by James Palmer
After what felt like an eternity, I finally reached the end of the tunnel. Another door waited before me. Slowly, I turned the knob and opened it just a crack. Seeing or hearing no one, I opened it all the way and stepped through. I was in another room, much like Lao Fang’s so-called inner sanctum, only this room was decorated with all manner of weaponry. Hanging from the walls were hundreds of examples of weaponry from ancient times up to the modern age. I had never seen a more impressive collection. Bronze Age swords and shields mingled with medieval broadswords and maces. Scottish claymores, English mortuary swords from the Interregnum, all countries and eras were well represented. What was the meaning of such a room? For that matter, what was the meaning of any of this?
While my mind reeled, I failed to notice another hidden door opening.
“You should not be here!”
I started at the familiar voice. “Soo Yin!”
She ran toward me. “What are you doing here?”
“I came to find out what happened to my friend,” I said evenly.
“I told you. My master killed him. Lao Fang is very dangerous. You must go before someone sees.”
“I made it this far,” I said. “I’m not leaving this place without answers. Who did your master send that Gomez fellow to kill?”
Soo Yin blanched with horror. “How do you know about that?”
“I saw,” I replied. It was enough.
“Constable Long,” she said. “With the police.”
I grabbed Soo Yin’s arms and shook her. “What are you involved in? Who is this Lao Fang? What is this hold he has on you?”
Then in a flash, I knew. “You drank the elixir too.”
Soo Yin began to cry. “Yes. God help me, yes.” She pressed her face into my chest and sobbed.
I put my arms around her and held her there until she calmed down. When her tears had subsided, she looked up at me.
“I was a slave to hashish. The elixir freed me. But I only thought I was free. Now I am a slave to Lao Fang. The hashish was bad, but Lao Fang is a devil, a tyrant. I have seen him...do things.”
“Murder?”
Soo Yin only nodded. “Sometimes he has his men do it for him. Like Mustafa and now Gomez. Other times...” She buried her head in my breast once again. “One day I decided I couldn’t be his slave anymore.”
I nodded. “When my friend Durant showed up. You saw in him a way out.”
“Yes.”
I pushed her away gently and looked deep into her eyes. “You should have gone to the police.”
“I could not. The Master has eyes everywhere. He would have me killed.”
“The authorities could have kept you safe.”
Soo Yin shook her head. “It is not like your country. It is different here. Lao Fang is master, not the police.”
I threw up my hands in frustration. Was there no getting through to this woman?
“What of this Constable Long?”
Soo Yin wiped her eyes with her sleeve and stared at the wall behind me for a moment, deep in thought. “Yes. We could trust him. He has been investigating the opium trafficking, and he knows it is Lao Fang who runs it.”
“He must be getting close to a bust,” I surmised. “That’s why Lao Fang wants him dead.”
Soo Yin nodded. “Yes. I think the Master is afraid of him, and the Master fears no one.”
I smiled. “That’s it then! Soo Yin, I don’t know what plan you had arranged with poor Durant, but I have a new plan for you. Since you came to visit me last night, I assume you can come and go as you please.”
“Yes,” said Soo Yin. “Somewhat. If a henchman questions me I tell them I am about the business of our Master, and that is enough.”
“Good. I want you to lead me out of here. If anyone sees us, tell them that I am a recent convert and that we are running an errand for your master.”
“Oh, Rick,” said Soo Yin. “I am still deathly afraid, but I know with your help I can escape the shackles of my master.”
I gritted me teeth. “Let’s get to it then.”
*
Soo Yin led me through a veritable maze of rooms, tunnels and stairwells. We encountered no resistance. Of the few people we encountered, none of them gave Soo Yin or I a second glance, and soon we were back up on street level, emerging into the light of early afternoon in the rear of what appeared to be some sort of gambling parlor. It was apparent this Lao Fang struck at people through the vices, and I wondered just how big his underground empire was.
Out front of this establishment, we hailed a sedan chair that carried us to the government district and the police station.
Constable Long was a tall, heavyset Brit with dark red hair and intense green eyes that missed nothing as he looked us over in his office. His secretary told him we had information about Lao Fang, so he already knew the importance of meeting with us.
“Have a seat,” he said, gesturing to the chairs in front of his desk. We did so, and he got out a tablet and a pen and readied himself to write.
We told him everything. I told him about Durant’s letter, my adventures thus far, and the plot to kill him. Soo Yin told him of her time among the tunnels of Lao Fang, and about those crimes of his that she had witnessed.
“God!” said the Constable, setting down his pen and rubbing his wrist. “If I hadn’t witnessed Lao Fang’s atrocities myself, I would say both of you were out of your tree. As it where, this is much bigger and stickier than I thought.”
He turned toward his window and looked out nervously, then drew the blinds. “So I’m to be killed, eh? Well, we’ll see about that.” He stood and began pacing about the small office.
“I’m bloody sorry about your friend, Mr. Casey,” he said, pausing before a metal filing cabinet. “But you should have gone to the police and filed a missing persons report.”
“I know,” I replied. “His story was so wild, I thought he might have had a nervous breakdown or something.”
“Yes, well. We’re full of wild stories around here.” He pulled open the top draw and hefted out a thick folder bulging with papers. “Take a gander at this.”
Constable Long flopped the file onto the desk before us with a thud.
“This is all Lao Fang. You too have given me enough to start a whole new drawer.”
He returned to his seat behind the desk and interlaced his thick fingers. “It isn’t easy maintaining law and order in what is, for all intents and purposes, a foreign land. He glanced self-consciously at Soo Yin, who looked straight ahead and said nothing. “Did you know that there are some areas in Kowloon and Hong Kong where they still refer to chaps like us as foreign devils?” He chuckled dryly.
This Lao Fang fellow is what you would call a big deal. He’s responsible for most if not all of the drug trafficking in and out of Hong Kong. Scotland Yard has been riding my coattails for months trying to get a bust.”
“Scotland Yard?” I said, amazed.
“Oh yes. Seems our old boy Fang has been making inroads into England and Europe, and the United States as well from the looks of things. Yes, you and your girlfriend there have stumbled into the hive of one of the most powerful criminal organizations the world has ever seen.”
My legs felt numb, and I glanced at Soo Yin, who still sat quietly in her chair, scarcely moving, her jet black hair shining in the lights in the Constable’s office.
“We’ll get you transferred to a safe house immediately. Then we’ll arrest this Gomez character before he fulfills his assignment. Maybe we can get even more information on Lao Fang.”
Soo Yin started to squirm in her seat. “Master will be looking for me,” she said. “I must go back to him.”
“I’m sorry my dear,” said the Constable. “But that is one place you can never venture again. Let me put a few of my men in there, and he’ll never be in a position to harm you again.”
“With all due respect, Constable,” I said. “He’ll see your men coming. He already knows you’re close. That’s why he w
ants you dead. I ventured into his inner sanctum and back undetected. Let me go.”
The Constable let out a long laugh. “Oh no. I’m not letting some foreign civilian get himself killed. Let’s keep the body count to a minimum, hm?”
“But I can help you,” I pleaded.
“If you want to help,” said the Constable. “Stay out of my way.”
*
A plainclothes Chinese policeman escorted us back to my hotel room to pack my belongings. He waited outside the room while Soo Yin and I went inside.
“Any idea when the attempt will be made on the Constable’s life?” I asked Soo Yin as I removed my suitcase from the small closet.
She shook her head. “The Master left it up to Gomez to find the best time and place to strike. He won’t see him coming until it is too late. Oh, Rick!” She broke down again, sinking into my arms.
“There, there now,” I soothed. “We’ll see a way out of this. Things are already looking up. We were right to go to the authorities.”
Suddenly the door flew open and the cop entered, a gun in his right hand. Strange, I thought. This being a British protectorate, I didn’t think the police carried firearms.
“What is this?” I cried.
“The Master sends his regards,” the cop said. He said something in Cantonese to Soo Yin.
“What?” I asked her.
“The Master’s eyes are everywhere,” she replied, her eyes never leaving the cop’s gun.
“Such a shame what happened,” said the cop. “Shot by agents of Lao Fang while fleeing their police escort.”
At this point I moved between the cop and Soo Yin. I would only have one shot at this.
“Your bones will rot in the belly of Yogul tonight,” said the cop, and he raised his gun toward my head.
I flung the suitcase, swinging it upward in an arc that connected with his gun even as it fired, directing the shot into the ceiling. Plaster rained down upon me, and the handle of my suitcase broke off in my hand as I closed with the cop.
We wrestled with the gun, my right arm straining against his in an attempt to keep the gun as far away from me and Soo Yin as possible. With a heave I shoved his body back against the wall, his right wrist slamming against the door frame and dislodging the gun from his grasp.
Lao Fang’s assassin redoubled his efforts, bringing both his fists to bear against me. I am quite the amateur boxer, but I knew that this was no icehouse bought. The loser would not get to go home and doctor his wounds.
The cop’s fighting prowess was quite formidable. He surprised me with blow to my gut, then punched me in the face, knocking me backward. He reached inside his jacket, and I knew he was going for another weapon.
From somewhere to my left, there were six loud cracks, followed by the acrid smell of gun powder. The cop flew back, arms in the air. He hit the wall and slid down it, leaving a thick smear of dark red blood.
I looked to Soo Yin, who was in a crouch, the cop’s gun frozen in her hands. Sometime during the melee she must have grabbed it off the floor. She was shaking.
“Are you all right?”
Soo Yin nodded, breathing heavily.
“Thank you.”
Soo Yin stared at me. “I told you the Master has eyes everywhere.” She dropped the now empty gun to the floor.
“Constable Long’s entire police force could be out to get him,” I said. “He’s in tremendous danger,” I said. “And I’m sure the entire hotel heard that. We need to get out of here now. We’ll have a hard time explaining why we just killed a policeman.”
I grabbed Soo Yin, and without preamble we exited the room via the fire escape.
We needed a plan of attack, I thought. Lao Fang no doubt knew of Soo Yin’s betrayal, and had ordered both of us killed. He also knew we had warned Constable Long that his life was in danger, and so would modify his plans in that endeavor as well. As for myself, I was in a foreign city, with no one I could trust save this strange Chinese woman, armed only with a small pistol, my fists, and my wits.
The first order of business was to get as far away from the hotel as possible. Then we needed to warn Constable Long. Soo Yin took me on a circuitous though well-practiced route through back alleys and side streets, past street vendors strange-smelling food and old men playing mahjong, until we were several blocks away. I heard the discordant, atonal whine of British police sirens far away behind us, and knew that we were safe, at least for now.
Soo Yin led me to a little hole in the wall eatery, where an old woman smiled at her, sat us down on the floor and gave us noodles, rice, sesame chicken and pot stickers without question.
I was ravenous, so we ate in silence for a time. When we had our fill, Soo Yin took my hands in hers.
“What next?” she whispered.
I thought for a moment. Would she do what I asked of her? Could she do it?
“You’re going to take me to a place where I can enter Lao Fang’s tunnel system,” I said. “Then I want you to go and warn Constable Long. You know these streets better than I, and can blend in.”
I thought she would cringe or start crying again, but she only nodded. “I will warn the Constable and bring the police. But what are you going to do?”
I shook my head. “I don’t know. Up here, I would only slow you down and get us caught. But down there, I might be able to seek justice for my friend. Lao Fang may have taken Durant’s life, but he cannot have mine, or yours. This ends now, today.”
Her hands were cool to my touch, and shook slightly. I gave them a squeeze and pulled free from her grasp.
“Good luck, Rick Casey,” she said. Rising, she leaned over and kissed me.
There was a trap door in the floor of a laundry next door that lead into Lao Fang’s cursed tunnels. I squeezed Soo Yin’s hand one final time before lowering the door above my head and crawling down into the darkness.
A rich, earthy smell greeted me as I descended into a narrow tunnel. The others were structurally complex; this was dug by hand, and looked as if it wasn’t used much. I knew this would be to my advantage during my descent, though I didn’t know how I would find my way to Lao Fang. At this point, I still had yet to see him, but I imagined what it would feel like to get my hands around his fiendish throat and choke the life from him. Whoever reads this must think me a violent man, but I ask them to put themselves in my place for just a moment. What would you do if someone wanted you dead? Someone not even the police were a match for? Each man must walk this Earth according to his nature. So must it be with me.
The narrow tunnel slowly began to widen and level off, changing from hard packed earth to sturdy stone. There were no electric lights or torches here, but a green phosphorescence along the walls lit my path. Somewhere far ahead of me, I could hear a steady rumbling, as of large amounts of water rushing headlong in a single direction.
I felt my way along the path, cold wet stone greeting my fingers. There was water nearby, an underground river perhaps. Fascinating, but would it help me find Lao Fang?
The sound grew louder. The close walls of the tunnel opened out into a yawning cavern. Cool air blasted me in the face, and more of the phosphorescent lichen glittered along the walls. My eyes adjusted to the gloom, and I could just make out long, dripping stalactites hanging from the cavern’s ceiling hundreds of feet above me. Water roared past about ten feet to my left, and just below its monstrous roar was another sound.
It was a low chanting of many voices in unison, saying a single word over and over. Yogul. Yogul. Yogul.
The chanting was getting closer. I crouched in the tunnel mouth and watched.
Glowing orbs of lantern light emerged from the gloomy distance, bobbing up and down. In their light, I made out a congregation of some dozen or so people standing alongside the river. Before them stood a tall figure in a flowing gold and black robe, a tall, fez-like hat upon his head.
He addressed the congregation in Cantonese, English, something that might have been Portuguese, and a few other ton
gues I didn’t recognize. He spoke loudly and clearly to make himself heard over the roar of the underground river, and I recognized his voice immediately. It was the same voice I had heard in the inner sanctum. The figure standing not twenty feet from me was Lao Fang.
“Yogul has poured out his blessings upon us,” Lao Fang told his congregation. “His will is to unite all who are disenfranchised, all who are broken, all who are enslaved. Together we shall topple the white man!”
Everyone shouted, their voices echoing through the massive underground chamber, temporarily drowning out the sound of the rushing river.
“He has tasked me with bringing us all together. The brown men. The yellow men. Jew, gypsy and Basque. We will stand together as brothers!” The men and women in his thrall cheered once more.
“But he demands much in return. He needs sustenance.”
At this there was movement among the group of people, as if someone was pushing and shoving. A struggling person book-ended by two large figures emerged from the group and planted themselves before Lao Fang.
In the lantern light I could see that this figure was a woman.
My heard thundered in my chest. Soo Yin! A closer inspection revealed that it was not Soo Yin. This woman was older, her jet black hair longer.
Without another word, Lao Fang was upon her, twisting her around so that she faced the congregation, a glittering blade appeared in his right hand. He quickly sliced it across her throat, the poor woman uttering a gurgling sound as he unceremoniously threw her body into the rushing river.
I leaned back against the rough stone of the tunnel mouth, horrified. Oh how I wanted to cry out! The rational part of my brain quickly took hold again, and I knew that if I revealed myself now, the whole group would be upon me and I would join that woman in the river.
Lao Fang licked the woman’s blood from the blade before secreting it in his robes once more. All the while the congregation excitedly chanted Yogul’s horrible name. They continued this chant as they went back in the direction they had come, Lao Fang walking slowly behind them.
