Mudada

by M G Leslie

  Jennifer gave a brief smile, but didn’t reply – she just turned and walked in to the bathroom whilst thinking, “Liar!! What are you up to?”

  2. Trouble In The Mid Levels

  Price looked down at his watch – noting that it was just after 8pm.

  He was sitting on a sofa in a private apartment in the upper mid-level area of Hong Kong Island.

  The lights in the room, however, were switched off – although he kept looking out of a window, as he needed his eyes to be adjusted for when the lights did come on. He'd already seen the apartment in daylight and had memorised the layout. The lounge was a relatively large room by Hong Kong standards – around twelve feet by fifteen feet he estimated – with a pale cream coloured marble floor and clean white woodwork around the skirting board and windows. There was a TV in one corner and a sofa along the side of one wall – where he now sat, facing the door that led out in to the hallway and the front door to the apartment.

  It was a good seat. Light from the bustling street outside came through the windows and meant that Price could see the door. But it missed one end of the sofa, which remained in the shadows – the end he'd chosen for that very reason.

  Price’s heart sped up slightly as he heard the front door unlock. He hoped that the girl was alone – it would be very unpleasant otherwise. Not that he couldn’t handle that situation because, as always, he’d replayed every potential scenario in his head over and over again – considering all the possible outcomes and determining his course of action for each. The event itself, tonight’s assignment, would merely be a case of going through with the plan – at least – that was his intention.

  The front door locking closed, was clearly audible from the lounge – along with a single pair of feet walking along the hallway.

  That, combined with a lack of any conversation, suggested the girl was indeed, alone, Then, as she walked in to the lounge, Price, with some relief, confirmed his deduction had been correct – he could clearly see that nobody had accompanied her home, as she reached up to the wall to turn the light on.

  The girl, with a light African complexion that distinguished her from the predominantly Chinese population of Hong Kong, froze in terror as she saw Price, pointing his Smith and Wesson directly at her – the silencer already fitted.

  Price pointed to a chair that he’d deliberately placed on the other side of the room. “Sit down please,” he said in a calm unhurried tone – almost reminiscent of fatherly tone, which was of course, completely intentional – after all, the last thing he needed was for her to scream and alert the neighbours.

  The girl looked at the chair – some surprise showing on her face, as it was clearly not supposed to be there – but she sat down and faced Price, placing her hands palm down on her legs.

  “What’s your name young lady?”

  “Jennifer.”

  “Your family name as well please.”

  “Jennifer Lee. My family name is Lee.”

  “And you work at Simmons and Lee Associates?”

  “Yes. What do you want?”

  Price didn’t speak – he let two thuds from his silenced gun answer for him – causing the girl to fall off the chair and come to a rest on the floor – the two bullets having penetrated her heart.

  He didn’t move immediately – he wanted to be sure that nobody had heard her fall or registered what he had done. It was only after another thirty seconds or so, during which he didn’t make a sound and where the only occasional noise was a neighbours dog barking, that he stood up and walked over to the door – switching off the light.

  After a couple more minutes, his eyes now readjusted to the low light level, he turned and fired a third bullet at point blank range in to the back of the girl’s head. Then he walked out – quietly leaving the apartment and making his way down to the underground car park from where he made a discreet exit through a side door – the same way he had entered just over two hours earlier.

  Once outside, Price hailed a taxi, “Grand Tower hotel please.”

  Then, as the taxi pulled away, he looked behind to see if he’d been followed. It all looked clear. “Good,” he thought, “Back to the hotel to pick up my things. Quick shower, check-out and the late night flight home.”

  Price never liked to hang around after an operation – regardless of whether it had been successful or otherwise. He applied a modified version of an old idiom – he didn’t want to ‘snatch defeat from the jaws of victory’.

  On arriving at his hotel room, despite the fact that the assignment appeared to have gone well, Price still decided to stick to his tried and tested procedure – first checking the room, wardrobes and en-suite to ensure there was nobody hiding inside. At least he attempted to follow that procedure. However, in reality, he never stood a chance – there were four armed men waiting for him – two hidden around the side of the en-suite, out of sight of the door, and two more in the en-suite bathroom itself.

  So as soon as Price walked in to the room and stepped around the corner the men were standing there pointing guns at him. Instinctively, and in a fraction of a second, Price weighed them up in his mind and felt reasonably confident he would prevail. So as one man started to speak, Price stepped forward in a well-practised move to disarm them. However, a voice from behind said, “Don’t move Mr Price.”

  Price hesitated – a third man that he hadn’t even seen, changed the situation completely, so he turned around – only to be faced with the other two men that had now emerged from the en-suite. Then before he could say anything he received a sharp blow to the back of his head and passed out.

  Price later worked out that he had been unconscious for nearly two hours, before waking up stark naked on top of his hotel room bed. He had a headache that he presumed was a result of being struck. However, he couldn’t explain the throbbing pain in his right leg – which, as he gripped his leg with both hands in a fruitless attempt to reduce the pain, actually hurt more than his head.

  Then, as he tried to move, he found that he could barely lift his body – he still seemed to be dazed and extremely weak – his arms felt like lead weights, as did his eye lids – even his breathing seemed to be affected – he was struggling to make sense of his surroundings – taking a few seconds to realise where he was.

  Then a voice spoke – not loudly – in fact, it was quite gentle – friendly – and somehow familiar, “Hello Price.”

  Price desperately tried to adjust his eyes – blinking repeatedly to try and wake up – but everything seemed to be a blur and he felt very tired. He just about managed to make out the figure standing by the bed – it was a girl – a small Chinese girl. Only as his senses began to react, albeit very slowly, he realised who it was. It was a long time friend – some might say girlfriend – although, since she was a member of the Chinese Ministry of State Security (MSS), the Chinese equivalent of the UK’s MI5 or Security Service, their relationship was not something he admitted to – indeed, he positively hid it from everyone and anyone – especially his Chief in SIS.

  “Mary? Is ‘at ‘ou?” he said – hearing himself slur his words due to his tired state.

  “Yes Price – it’s me. How are you feeling darling?”

  “Bad. Really bad – some’ing ‘appened to my leg and I can’t seem t’move.”

  “That’s because I injected you with forty milligrams of benzodiazepine Price.”

  The realization that he had been drugged, sent a shockwave through Price’s brain as he desperately tried to take stock of the situation. “Was she alone? Could he see any of the men that had hit him before? What were his options? How long do the effects of Vallium last? I can’t remember,” he thought. Then raising his voice as much as he could, he said, “Valium? Wha’ the hell for?”

  “I need you to answer some questions and stay still for a while. Don’t worry – it will wear off pretty soon. It was a very large dosage – but you’ll be fine – big tough guy like you.”

  Still slurring his words, Pric
e asked, “Why? Why d’you do dat?”

  Mary started to raise her voice – the soft tone being replaced by a harsh edge, “That’s funny coming from you Price. I could ask why you came to Hong Kong without telling me.”

  Then she paused before continuing – this time, the sharpness of her tone even more accentuated, “What? Didn’t you realise we have our immigration system set up to send me an alert every time you put a foot in this country?”

  Price didn’t respond. Although it wasn’t for lack of trying – the drug dosage meant that he was still struggling to stay focused.

  Mary moved closer and landed a surprisingly hard punch to his stomach – causing him to fold his legs up and roll on to his side – in his weak state, he hadn’t seen it coming and despite his drowsiness, it still seemed to hurt.

  Mary shouted, “Wake up Price – you need to answer my questions!”

  “What,” said Price.

  “Well – you already know I think. But to refresh your memory – you murdered an innocent girl earlier this evening – do you remember doing that? Then you came back here, were hit you over the head and then I pumped you full of drugs.”

  Price didn’t speak.

  “No answer? Cat got your tongue? That’s one of your phrases isn’t it,” said Mary as she walked over to the minibar and took out a bottle of wine. Then as she walked back she shouted, “Why did you kill her?”

  Price didn’t answer – he just looked at her – desperately trying to muster some energy to do something – indeed anything – about the situation. But Mary had little or no patience it seemed, and in an instant she was next to him and swinging the bottle through the air – using it like a baseball bat to hit Price – fortunately only catching him on the back, as he instinctively turned away at the last second.

  Despite his reaction though, the bottle hit him so hard that it broke in to pieces – sending shards of glass in all directions – causing him to wince from the pain.

  Nevertheless, Price refused to cry out – he wasn’t going to give her that pleasure. Instead, he just closed his eyes to focus on his breathing and stay calm. Then, once he had regained some level of self-control, he turned back and looked at her.

  Mary had been waiting – and as soon as she had his attention she said, having reverted to her original soft tone, “You are quite a violent person Price – I know that and I know it’s your job. But I really do want to know why you killed her?”

  “What?”

  “Stop saying ‘What’!” she shouted. “And answer my question. She was an innocent young girl. You murdered an innocent girl, and I won’t have you coming over here murdering innocent people.”

  Still no reply from Price – so Mary retrieved another bottle from the minibar before walking back and standing next to Price. Then once again in a softer voice she said, “Darling, I can order more wine if I have to – and don’t think the drugs will wear off quickly enough for you to escape, because if you don’t start talking soon, the people that knocked you out will be back and it will get a whole lot worse for you. So I suggest you speak now.”

  Then as she smashed the second bottle of wine on Price, this time catching his shoulder, she shouted, “Why did you kill her you bloody fool?”

  Again struggling to control the pain – this time in his shoulder – Price whispered, “She wasn't one of yours. Why do you care?”

  “It's murder and it's in my territory. Why did you kill her?”

  Price ignored the question – preferring to address her first statement, “Arrest me then.”

  Yet again switching to a calmer voice, Mary almost whispered as she said, “You know I can't do that darling – you entered with diplomatic immunity.”

  Price just shrugged his shoulders, “So let me go then.”

  This time Mary smiled as she spoke, “No – maybe I’ll just kill you instead – make it look like you got drunk and banged your head in the bathroom – so very sad – a tragic loss of life – a tragic loss to MI6 and the world in general.”

  Price started to sit up – now feeling a bit better – he presumed as a result of the intense pain caused by the glass shattering on his shoulder and back, that would have sent adrenalin shooting round his body, reducing the effects of the other drug.

  Mary, however, was already aware that this could happen and had withdrawn a gun from her pocket. “Don’t start getting any silly ideas Price,” she said.

  “Mary – this isn’t you – why are you doing this to me?”

  Mary hesitated and then said, “I have orders as well Price. Either you give me answers or you join your lady friend. It’s as simple as that. So start talking – we don’t have long. I’m not making this up – they will be back pretty soon if I don’t leave here with answers. You really don’t have time to sit and think and ask me questions all the time. You will die if you don’t give me answers darling – believe me – it is that simple.”

  Price shifted his position on the bed – he was feeling even more alert now and was starting to think about his options – could he move quickly enough to disarm Mary or even get to his gun, which he presumed would still be in his jacket on the other side of the room.

  However, he knew Mary was extremely strong. Whilst she looked like a petite, young Chinese girl, he knew she was a martial-arts expert and could over-power men many times her size – indeed, he’d seen her do so on more than one occasion. “The question,” he thought, is, “Am I going to be able to take the gun off her in my weak state?”

  Mary, however, read his mind and, without saying a word, just smiled as she pointed the gun directly at his head – making eye contact in the process.

  Price erased thoughts of disarming her from his mind and, looking back at her, said, “She was a spy – she’d been giving information away.”

  “You know she didn’t work for MI6 Price.”

  “Mary, I promise you. I was told that she was a spy.”

  “What was her name?”

  “I don't know.”

  With a flick of her wrist, Mary adjusted the gun’s direction and fired – the thud from the silencer creating a hole in the bed next to Price’s shoulder – grazing his skin as it did so.

  Then with the gun again pointing directly at his head, she switched back to her soft voice and said, “You and I both know that’s a lie, Price. Don’t treat me like a fool. You know I’m more than capable of killing you here and now. Yes, I’d be sad to do that – but you know I will. So start cooperating darling, because time is running out for you.”

  Price was starting to believe that she would pull the trigger and kill him. “This could be it,” he thought, “He’d have to give her something – something she probably already knew anyway.”

  So he spoke in a calm and unemotional tone, “Her name was Jennifer Lee.”

  Mary sounded annoyed though, “That was her married name – idiot. What was her real name?”

  Price focused on Mary’s eyes and continued to speak slowly and careful, “Mary, that was the name I had. You’re right – I know you could kill me in a second. But I also know that you know me as well as anyone in the world – probably better than anyone else in the world. So before you do something we’ll both regret, I need you to look at me and decide if I’m telling the truth – because I am. That was the name I was given. Yes, I know she was married and separated I believe.”

  “So you know she was separated.”

  “Mary, come on – you and I both know that was relevant. I needed to know if she lived alone. But I didn’t need her maiden name.”

  “Do you know her maiden name?”

  “No. I do not.”

  “Would you like me to tell you Price? Because you may get a shock.”

  “Why?”

  “I’m just saying – you’ll be surprised.”

  Price almost laughed, “Nothing surprises me anymore Mary – except perhaps being drugged and shot at by you.”

  “I saved your life once Price.”

  �
�Yes – I am most grateful. How about a thank you dinner – on me? Then maybe after we can… well… I think you know…”

  Mary smiled – then leaned forward so their faces were only inches apart. In fact, for a brief moment Price thought she might even kiss him – right up until the point where the pistol whipped across his face, bruising the left side of his jaw.

  Price sat back, rubbed his face with his hand and just looked up at Mary, as she pocketed the gun and walked towards the door – at the last second looking back. “I believe you Price and I’m sorry for all this,” she said as she waved her hand at the glass fragments and wine that was spread across the room.

  Price couldn’t believe his ears, “You’re sorry? I don’t see anyone forcing you to do this.”

  Mary just looked back at him. So, after a short delay, Price spoke again, “Just go please. Please. Just go. I’m sorry as well OK?”

  “Next time get in touch OK?”

  “Yes Mary, whatever you say.”

  Mary put her hand on the door to the room and was just about to open it, when Price’s curiosity got the better of him and he said, “So what was her name anyway?”

  Mary glanced back again – this time smiling – indeed, almost laughing. “That’s for you to figure out Price. But remember this – I warned you – you’ve made a mistake, and as a result, you’ve also made an enemy close to home. I’ve covered your back before. I can’t guarantee to do it every time – so take care of yourself. Good night Price.”

  Then she walked out.

  Price just slumped back in his bed – feeling fragment of glass cut in to him as his bodyweight applied pressure to the sheets. “Bitch,” he thought, as he closed his eyes and passed out.

  3. The Phone Call

  Six thousand miles away and some six months later, it was a Monday evening in Zimbabwe’s capital, Harare, when a phone call started the sequence of events that would later be investigated, uncovered and understood – at least, most of those involved would believe they understood – little were they to know that the events were somewhat more complex than they first appeared.