The rickshaw slowed to a crawl, wending its way through the crowded lanes and backstreets. Wafts of steaming noodles and frying meat billowed out from tiny Formica-tabled restaurants, and locals stared in lazy curiosity as Connor and Amir glided by, the only foreign faces in the whole area. As Zhen negotiated a turn, Connor leant close to Amir and said under his breath, ‘I’m guessing the people who followed us belong to the same organization that attacked HQ. You were right about the compromised Wi-Fi router – they must have intercepted my phone signal when I called up the colonel’s coordinates.’
‘Do you think it’s safe to go to the rendezvous point then?’ questioned Amir.
Connor gave a reluctant shrug. ‘What other choice do we have? Besides, if the enemy knows where we’re headed, why bother following us? Why try to grab us off the street?’
‘Well, since your original message was encrypted, they don’t know who or when we’re meeting, only where,’ said Amir.
Connor ducked as a shirt hung out to dry almost hit him in the face. ‘That’s a good point.’
Their guide took another sharp turn and Amir checked the map on his phone. Leaning forward, he tapped their guide on the shoulder. ‘Are you sure we’re going the right way?’
‘Shortcut! Now on Fangbang Middle Road,’ Zhen announced as the street opened up and the rickshaw rejoined the stream of traffic. He waved his hand at the passing buildings. ‘All this used to be old houses and old offices. Now New Shanghai!’
Connor and Amir gazed in awe at the gleaming shopping malls, shining skyscrapers and towering apartment blocks that sprouted from the countless building sites. The modern urban sprawl was barely a few metres away from Old Town yet a whole world away from its crowded backstreets, cramped houses and overhanging laundry. But every so often a cluster of little homes and shops defied the city’s advance. One small area looked like it had been bombed out – only a few houses were left standing in the middle of a barren wasteland.
‘We call those “nail houses”,’ Zhen explained, pedalling hard to keep up with the traffic. ‘Homeowners refuse to move. So developers can’t build until the tenants are bought out, pushed out or – since many are old – carried out.’
‘That sounds harsh,’ said Connor, amazed that the ramshackle nail houses were still standing.
‘That’s progress!’ replied Zhen, pulling off the main road and into a car park. ‘Here we are.’
The rickshaw squealed to a halt in front of a concrete office block. Not as new as the surrounding glazed towers, the block stood alone and defiant amid its bigger, flashier brothers. A building site on its doorstep was forested with tall yellow cranes, industrial-sized diggers and heavy dumper trucks. From one nearby crane a large wrecking ball hung like a pendulum over the gutted remains of a demolished building.
‘Are you sure this is it?’ asked Connor, dubiously surveying the scene. The car park was mostly empty and the office building itself looked to be vacant.
Zhen nodded. Amir checked the map on his phone and nodded too. Stepping from the rickshaw, Connor took out a fifty-yuan note and handed it to their guide, who pocketed it eagerly.
‘I wait for you here,’ said Zhen, tugging off his mask and shooting them an expectant smile.
‘Thanks, but we might be a while,’ replied Amir.
‘No problem.’ Zhen settled into the rickshaw’s back seat to wait, apparently not getting the hint.
Leaving their tenacious guide behind, Connor and Amir headed to the office entrance. They kept an eye out for anyone suspicious, but there was nobody around. Perhaps our mystery enemy doesn’t have the coordinates after all, thought Connor. A sign by the door listed a number of companies in Chinese, but none bore the Buddyguard logo – although that didn’t surprise Connor, considering the organization’s covert nature. On the wall next to the sign someone had spray-painted what looked like a J and K in a red circle.
‘The place seems a bit run-down,’ Amir observed.
‘I expect the colonel chose a place that wouldn’t draw too much attention.’
Amir frowned at the piles of rubbish, cardboard boxes and discarded mattresses that littered the forecourt. ‘But do you really think this is the rendezvous point?’
‘Only one way to find out,’ replied Connor, pushing through the glass doors and entering the lobby.
A lone security guard sat behind a desk, looking bored. Connor approached the man. ‘We’re here to see Colonel Black,’ he said.
The security guard pointed to the lift.
Connor glanced at Amir. ‘Well, it seems we’re in the right place.’ He turned back to the guard. ‘Xièxie,’ he said, using what little Mandarin Chinese he knew to thank the man.
Amir went over and pressed the button to call the lift. The doors pinged open and they stepped inside.
‘Which floor?’ Connor asked.
The security guard pointed up, gesturing several times irritably.
‘I suppose that means top floor,’ mumbled Amir, thumbing the uppermost button.
The doors slid shut and the lift began to rise.
‘I’ll be glad to regroup with Colonel Black and the others,’ said Amir, his foot tapping impatiently as the floor numbers blinked by.
‘Me too,’ agreed Connor. He was most looking forward to seeing Charley again. They’d been apart for over two months and every day he’d missed her like crazy. After all that had happened, their reunion would be even more emotional.
The lift doors pinged open on the sixth floor and they stepped out into a sparse reception area. Standing behind a wooden counter, a receptionist greeted them with a tight smile.
‘Colonel Black?’ enquired Connor.
The receptionist nodded and led them down a hallway into a meeting room. ‘Wait here, please,’ she said in accented English. Apart from a conference table and eight office chairs, the room was empty.
‘Where’s Colonel Black?’ asked Connor.
‘In a meeting. He won’t be long.’ The secretary gave him another tight smile, then left, the door clicking shut behind her.
Connor gave Amir a troubled look. ‘Where’s everyone else?’
‘Perhaps we’re the first,’ Amir replied, taking a seat at the table.
Connor glanced at his watch: 10:26 a.m. Maybe his friend was right. But, too agitated to sit down, he paced the room instead. A door at the far end led to an adjoining office. Through its small glass window, Connor spied a figure sitting in a tall leather chair at a desk, back turned to the meeting room. He went to knock on the door –
‘Hey, look!’ said Amir, pointing at the main window. ‘A drone.’
Connor turned to see a small remote-controlled drone hovering in the air, then it darted away. ‘Did it have a camera?’ he asked, his tone urgent.
‘Probably,’ said Amir. They exchanged a look, both knowing what that meant.
The enemy had found them.
Connor strode over to the door through which they’d entered and spotted the receptionist hurrying into the lift. He also noticed that the reception counter was bare – no computer, no stationery, not even a phone.
‘Something’s wrong,’ said Connor. He tried the door, only to discover it was locked. He yanked on the handle, but it still wouldn’t budge. He rushed over to the other exit, Amir joining him. This was locked too. Throwing their shoulders against the door, they burst into the office. The occupant still had his back to them, but Connor immediately recognized the distinctive silver-grey hair.
‘Colonel, we’ve got to leave. Now!’
When he didn’t respond, Connor spun the chair round and was confronted not by Colonel Black … but by a mannequin in a wig.
‘Is this some kind of joke?’ said Amir.
They both stared at the shop dummy in bewilderment. ‘What the hell’s the colonel up to?’ said Connor.
‘Perhaps this is a ghost rendezvous,’ Amir suggested. ‘A way to check if we were being followed or not. Bugsy must have spotted the drone and they pulled out
.’
‘But why the elaborate set-up?’ Connor’s smartband vibrated, alerting him it was 10:30 a.m.
The office strip lights flickered out and the room darkened to an ominous gloom.
Amir looked round and started backing away to the door. ‘I don’t like this,’ he said. ‘We should get out of here.’
As he spoke, a huge boom sounded outside and the building shook to its foundations. Dust and plaster rained down on them from cracks in the ceiling.
‘Was that a bomb?’ gasped Amir, trying to keep his feet as the floor beneath them shuddered.
‘Sounded like one!’ Rushing to the window, Connor looked down into the car park. The security guard and receptionist were running for their lives. Their guide Zhen was waving his arms madly up at them, gesturing to one side of the building. Connor peered through the glass and saw what the boy was pointing at. A huge grey wrecking ball was swinging towards the building on a direct collision course with their office.
‘RUN!’ Connor shouted at Amir, shoving his friend towards the door.
Feet skidding across the carpet, they dived into the meeting room just as the wrecking ball smashed into the office window, shattering the glass panes in a shower of lethal shards. The huge ball ploughed on through the office, taking with it the desk, the chair and the mannequin in one heavy swoop. The floor was eaten away and the ceiling caved in. The noise was like an avalanche of rock and rubble, the air turning thick with dust, as the whole building trembled from the impact.
Then the steel wrecking ball slowed its savage path of destruction, pausing for a brief moment before retreating. With a screeching groan, it fell away, leaving a jagged hole in the outside wall. The wind whistled and papers fluttered out into the empty sky like birds with broken wings.
Amir coughed and spluttered as Connor blinked away the dust and debris hanging in the air.
‘That was close,’ wheezed Connor, shaking the plaster from his hair. Then he saw Amir’s eyes widen in alarm.
The wrecking ball was coming back.
Scrambling to their feet, they raced for the door. But in their panic they’d forgotten it was locked. As Amir frantically yanked on the handle, the wrecking ball hurtled closer and closer.
‘It won’t open!’ cried Amir, throwing his full weight against the door.
Connor delved into his Go-bag and pulled out the XT tactical torch. Gripping it like an ice pick, he smashed the hexagonal strike-ring into the door’s narrow window. The pane shattered. Amir reached through, undid the lock and they kicked the door open just as the demolition ball punched another hole in the office block.
Racing down the hallway, Connor could hear the wrecking ball pursuing them like an out-of-control steamroller. The five-thousand-kilogram comet of steel demolished all in its path. Partition walls crumbled. Floorboards split. Ceiling panels fell.
‘The stairs!’ shouted Connor, his heart screaming in his chest as the grey juggernaut thundered after them.
Amir was almost at the stairwell when another demolition ball powered through the side wall. It rocketed past Amir, missing him by a whisker, though it took out the floor at his feet. Connor grabbed for Amir’s Go-bag as his friend tumbled into the abyss. Catching hold of the strap, he was jerked forward by Amir’s weight and pulled to the floor. All the breath was knocked from him, but he stopped his friend from breaking a limb in the fall. It also saved Connor’s life. The wrecking ball behind had reached the end of its arc and the steel whisked over Connor’s head on its way back out of the building.
Amir dangled over the floor below. ‘Don’t let me go!’ he pleaded.
But Connor had no choice. The other demolition ball was also on its return swing. Forced to release his grip on the strap, he dropped his friend and rolled away as the ball carved out another slice of concrete.
Then all was quiet again, the only sound the light pitter-patter of dust settling.
Connor called through the haze to the floor below. ‘You all right?’
‘Yeah!’ groaned Amir, rubbing his backside tenderly.
Before the wrecking balls made a repeat visit, Connor lowered himself over the hole and dropped down to the fifth floor. The whole level was stripped of furniture, light fittings and partition walls. Connor now realized the building was just a shell – a vacant office block.
Amir nodded towards the main stairwell, which was blocked with concrete lintels, bricks and debris. ‘How do we get out of here now?’
‘Fire escape,’ said Connor, pointing to a green sign with an arrow. But they’d barely taken a step towards the fire door when the first wrecking ball smashed in the corner of the building. Connor and Amir were knocked off their feet and a section of the sixth floor caved in, cutting off that escape route.
The building shuddered yet again as the second demolition ball hammered into its side. Bricks and concrete support pillars exploded from the catastrophic impact, and morbid creaks and groans began sounding from the entire office block.
‘Another few hits and this building’s going to collapse like a house of cards!’ cried Amir, crawling over to Connor.
As the wrecking balls tore their way through the building once more, Connor looked desperately around for another fire escape. But there didn’t appear to be one. Then he spotted the bright yellow plastic of a builder’s rubbish chute poking through an open window. ‘There! That’s our way out.’
He dragged Amir to standing and they dashed over to the plastic tube.
‘You’ve got to be kidding,’ said Amir, peering down the dark hole to nothing. ‘We’re five floors up!’
‘It’s either this or being flattened like a pancake!’ Connor replied as the building let out another pained groan. ‘You go first.’
Amir stared at him. ‘Why me?’
‘I want something soft to land on!’ He took off his Go-bag and threw it down first. ‘There, that should take the sting out of things.’
But Amir was still reluctant and Connor didn’t blame him – they were likely to crash-land on to rubble, bricks and glass. And that’s if they were lucky! Then a wrecking ball blasted its way through the fifth floor, forcing his friend to make up his mind. Amir tossed his own Go-bag into the tube and leapt in after it.
Connor decided to give his friend a count of five to allow him time to move out of the way. However, before he finished the countdown, the second demolition ball smashed through the wall beside him. It sent masonry flying like shrapnel from a bomb, and a brick struck Connor on the back of the head. He was knocked to the floor, stars bursting before his eyes and his head ringing like a bell. For a moment he thought the room was spinning. Then with utter horror he realized it was – it was collapsing.
Fighting his sickening disorientation, Connor staggered back over to the chute and jumped in. He flew down at breakneck speed, a straight run to the ground. A second later he was spat out into a skip, landing hard on a pile of wood, cardboard and junk. The skin was taken off his elbows and his back jarred against the edge of a filing cabinet.
‘What kept you?’ asked Amir, pulling him to his feet.
Connor grimaced with pain and rubbed the back of his head where a large bruise was forming. ‘Thought I’d admire the view.’
Grabbing their Go-bags, they tumbled out of the skip. The wrecking balls continued pulverizing the office block and the entire building started to reel like a concussed boxer. Bricks rained down as Connor and Amir ran for the safety of the street. Then the structure gave way entirely and the building collapsed in on itself. A monstrous roar preceded the tidal wave of bricks and masonry. A huge dust cloud billowed out, enveloping them and plunging their world into a murky darkness. Unable to see or breathe, they staggered blindly across the car park. Then the air cleared a little, the building exhaled its last wheeze and they found themselves beside the rickshaw, bruised, bloodied yet alive.
‘We could’ve been killed!’ gasped Amir, bent over double, his hands on his knees.
Connor stared at the demolished bu
ilding, now little more than a dark corpse in the haze. ‘I think that was the whole point.’
‘You two are lìhai!’ exclaimed Zhen, their guide applauding them, his pollution mask back on against the dust.
Connor coughed. ‘What?’
‘Hardcore! Entering a building marked for demolition, then sliding down that tube.’
Connor glared at Zhen. ‘What do you mean, marked for demolition?’
Zhen frowned. ‘Didn’t you see the red painted circle? It said chāi – demolition.’
‘You could’ve warned us!’ cried Amir.
‘I thought you could read Chinese,’ said Zhen with a shrug.
‘Whatever makes you think that?’
Zhen pointed to Connor. ‘He said you’re a guide.’
Connor gave a wheezing laugh. ‘That was a joke.’
Their guide blinked. ‘Oh. Sorry. I don’t understand English humour. I learnt your language from books and Hollywood movies.’
As the dust cloud began to disperse, Connor spotted a ghostly figure sprinting through the haze towards them. The man was large and powerfully built and wore a black pollution mask with mirrored shades. Whoever he was, he certainly wasn’t a demolition worker.
Connor turned to Zhen. ‘Get us out of here.’
‘Sure. Where do you want to go?’
‘Anywhere! Just do it,’ ordered Connor, handing over more money and jumping into the rickshaw’s back seat. Amir had spotted the menacing figure too and, tossing in his Go-bag, leapt in beside Connor.
Zhen, unaware of the approaching threat, raised a slim eyebrow in surprise at the handful of yuan notes. ‘OK, I give you extra-special Shanghai Surprise tour,’ he said, mounting his bike and pulling out of the car park. ‘We start at People’s Square, before heading into French Concession, then we will make our way back to Old Town for the Yùyuán Gardens and Confucian Temple. After that I will show you the real Shanghai, explore the backstreets and visit some local homes –’
‘Sounds great. Let’s go!’ said Connor, barely taking any notice of their guide’s tour plan. His eyes were fixed on the figure emerging from the dust cloud. The masked man was waving angrily at them as their rickshaw merged with the traffic and slipped away. Then a white telecom van pulled up at the kerb, their pursuer leapt in and the van gave chase.
Bodyguard_Fugitive Page 6
