by Jay Tinsiano
Then, he seemed to find solace in one thing—killing. First it was animals; he would capture a dog or a cat and torture it to death, enjoying that moment as the last flicker of life passed through the animal's eyes. This seemed to calm his inner rage for a short time.
Chiu could not wait to get his P.L.A. army papers, but no opportunities that involved actual kills to satisfy his dark lust seemed to come his way. It was all training, crawling through mud, grappling over walls and roll calls. Only a move to Special Operations Forces would give him what he wanted, what he craved. Or so he thought. In his whole time with the unit, he had only racked up one kill and that was at long range.
Then he was visited by the military intelligence head, Oracle, and his life became dramatically more exciting. His first test: the prisoner in the yard at Nanjing.
And now the Hong Kong clean up operation was becoming the perfect catalyst for his murderous side. It was what he had been waiting his whole life for.
Chiu lit a cigarette and flicked the ash out of the window, keeping just out of sight from the white Toyota ahead. His thoughts drifted back to Bangkok and the last few weeks. He regretted having to kill Richard the way he did. It was over way too quickly for Chiu's liking. He would have much preferred to have taken him out more slowly but unfortunately his orders were to make it look like a gangland hit. A shot in the back of the head took less than a second and it seemed like a big anti climax; there had been a distinct lack of satisfaction.
Then he had the chance to give the Thai police chief the heart attack sermon. Now that had been fun. The wide eyed fear as he struggled to stop Chiu stabbing the verminous liquid into the police chief's bloodstream and then watching the violent spasms of a full blown heart attack.
The young man in the shop. A need to try and get information on Bowen’s whereabouts had given him the perfect excuse to torture and inflict pain.
And then there was the guesthouse man, Mr Ron, who he had garrotted with piano wire. He claimed to know nothing as he begged for his life but he did say he had put up Frank Bowen. Chiu guessed he probably also had a connection with the criminal, Richard Desmond. Not that it mattered.
It was also unfortunate Theo Kampala had turned up at that moment. He had eventually believed Chiu when he said the victim was an enemy agent. Of course, Theo was his main concern, he needed to be hit, too many loose ends. Despite turning up at the bird house, with the same mission to kill Bowen, Kampala had served his purpose.
Yes, despite his doubts about the blonde woman’s true identity, he would not hesitate to kill her or the main target now. This had to be wrapped up and quickly.
It had been a roller coaster ride and was just beginning as far as Chiu was concerned. He wouldn't stop now. Once he had disposed of Frank and his girlfriend, he would continue his killing spree. There was no going back.
Chapter 33
Lieutenant General Teng of the Special Unit leaned back in his chair, forehead creased with lines and a greying mop of hair hung loosely around his ears. He glanced at the gold watch that his wife had given him and wondered if she’d be offended if he bought himself a new one.
Opposite him sat Chief Inspector Christopher Johnson and Lim Su Sung, his senior inspector of police. There were jugs of water on the table as well as numerous files and papers spread over the surface but there already seemed to be a tension between the two groups.
The inspector read a paper in front of him before meeting Teng with a level stare.
"What we need to know is why Chinese intelligence is trying to kill Frank Bowen."
Teng raised his eyebrows, "Chinese intelligence?"
Inspector Johnson pushed a report across the desk. It was a file on Chiu Won On, his known history, military record and recent C.C.T.V. photographs of the same man in Hong Kong. Teng took it and frowned as he read. "You should have shared this," he said.
"I'm sharing it now. Anyway, this known assassin recently killed a shopkeeper who had helped Frank Bowen get a false passport. He then tracked them to the house of a Maria Amerman Chapman, where they reportedly overpowered him. It's worth pointing out that she is the daughter of Peter Chapman who works for the Legislative Council of Hong Kong. We received an anonymous call, but he had already escaped. We found fingerprints, so we know he was there."
Teng shrugged, "Yes, we stormed the house before your men got there."
"I know you did, contaminating a crime scene. That, we could have done without," remarked Johnson quietly. Teng frowned, "We were tracking a suspected terrorist for God's sake."
"Reports sent through from MI6 put Frank Bowen and Jimmy Duffy as main suspects for the attack, but they were certainly not working alone. We also had problems confirming these intelligence reports," said Johnson.
Teng said nothing, his face a mask of mild annoyance.
"You had a team at the market very soon after the explosion. You had a tip off; can you tell us anything about that?" Johnson asked, his eyebrows arched in anticipation.
"I can't reveal anything about our sources, I'm afraid, except that we had reliable information about this operation," Teng snapped.
"And why weren't we told?" interjected Johnson.
Teng slammed his hand down onto the oak table, "We had no time! We had to move a team in fast and even then we were too late to stop the attack," the lieutenant stared hard at the chief inspector, clearly irritated.
Lim Su Sung leaned across and whispered into Johnston’s ear. He nodded and turned once again towards Teng. "We'd also like to know the exact source of the reports about the suspects and this tip off, Lieutenant General."
Teng waved a dismissive hand, his voice raised. "I cannot tell you that right now, maybe in time. But we have a job to do and that is tracking these terrorists and protecting Hong Kong."
"Yes and we have to do our job," retorted Johnson, "We need to find out what the hell is going on. There could be more attacks if Chinese intelligence is behind this and it looks like they are trying to frame MI6 for carrying out a false flag operation. We need your co-operation, Lieutenant."
Teng breathed heavily as if trying to hold in his temper.
"Of course we will co-operate, Chief Inspector."
"Then tell me the source!"
Teng paused and stared down at the table, "MI6," he said.
Johnson frowned, "So they knew about the attack beforehand? They told you and you went to the locations? Why weren't—" He stopped himself, frustrated.
Teng shuffled in his seat. "I'll level with you. The message was to keep your boys out of it, initially anyway. As I said, we were given very little time."
Johnson felt even more confused and he had several questions in his head. But he only asked one more, "Can you give the exact MI6 codename of the source?"
"There was no information on where it came from exactly. It was anonymously delivered."
Johnson and Su Sung glanced at each other. "Alright. Thanks for your help, Mr Teng." Chairs scraped as the meeting ended.
Chapter 34
"Yes, Governor Wilson, I'll keep you informed. Goodbye." The chief inspector put the phone down and glanced up at Lim Su Song, senior inspector of police.
"The Governor's anxious about the investigation. Is the detective inspector ready?" asked Johnson.
"Yes, he's already in the situation room," answered the senior inspector.
Johnson and Lim Su Sung walked into the long, bright room where Detective Inspector Brown was tinkering around with the window blinds to block out the fierce sunlight. A board on the wall had photographs, maps and notes pinned all over it, resembling a puzzle. Johnson and Lim Su Song sat down at the large table that dominated the room and slapped down their files.
The detective inspector cleared his throat, "I'll start with what we know so far."
"One bomb denoted on the number 61 tram at Chun Yeung Street market at 10.45am on the 2nd February. Then the 11.30am MTR train to Causeway Bay blew up as it entered the station at 11.37am, causing seventeen death
s and multiple injuries." Inspector Brown gestured to photographs of the immediate aftermath that were on the wall. He then produced the same passport photograph of Jimmy Duffy that had appeared on the news from a briefcase on the table in front of him.
"This man, who we had identified as Jimmy Duffy from Northern Ireland, was shot dead by the Special Unit at the street market immediately after the explosion. They had apparently been tipped off about the attack and were at the scene minutes after the explosion. We're still trying to find out where this tip off came from. According to his file, he has Ulster Defence Association connections, but we’re treating that with a big pinch of salt."
Brown moved to the other side of the board and pointed out Frank Bowen's passport photograph.
"Frank Bowen … who is still at large and could be linked to the Causeway Bay attack. He arrived in Hong Kong on the same flight as Jimmy Duffy and they split up at the airport."
"This is where it gets interesting. Frank Bowen's fingerprints have been placed at the scene of the murder of Li Wu, who was a passport forger. There were also fingerprints of Chiu Wah On, an operative of MSS and former People's Army. We believe him to be operating for a division within Chinese intelligence. Witnesses also have placed a man of his description entering Li's shop before the time of death."
Brown paused and sipped his water before continuing. "An anonymous call, which was traced to Malaysia, tipped us off about an intruder in the home of this woman, Maria Amerman Chapman. Apparently the intruder had been tied up, but we only found cut rope and signs of a struggle. No sign of Maria Chapman. We did, however, find fingerprints, from both Frank Bowen and our friend, Chiu Wah On.
Right now I'm co-ordinating a concerted effort to track down Frank Bowen and Maria Chapman. Frank Bowen is most certainly travelling on a false passport. We already had the airport security unit and all exit control points notified, but we can't rule out that he's already left Hong Kong."
Detective Brown paused and looked up at the two men sat in front of him. "Any questions so far?"
Johnson gestured for him to continue.
"So, we need to find these two suspects as soon as possible. Also, I've asked the sergeant to question her father; see if that brings anything up."
Lim Su Song shifted his weight in his chair, "It might be an idea to go through all their background files again to see if we may have missed something—an alternative to our current source if possible. It would be good to have a second opinion."
Johnson chimed in, "The two men, Bowen and Duffy. They came in from Bangkok, what's the track on their movements?"
"Our line of enquiry with the Bangkok police has revealed they stayed in a guesthouse on Khao San Road. I'll put a full list in the report."
Johnson clicked his pen, flipping it round and round in his hand. "Do we have any idea where the explosives came from?"
Brown sighed, "Not at the moment. It's much too early to tell. Forensics are still going through the crime scenes."
Johnson thought for a moment and then opened his file for the first time, almost hesitating. "Well, the location of the MI6 station that supplied the false Intel to the Special Unit came through and it's pretty worrying to say the least."
He handed the sheet to Detective Brown, whose eyes quickly fell on the paper and widened as he saw that it was the station right there in their own city; the Hong Kong station.
Chapter 35
Frank found a phone and dialled the same number he had before, pouring Baht coins into the slot. It took a while; several redials later, Frank heard Carl's voice.
"Frank, good to hear you. There's nothing on a Dean Whiteman, no one with a record anyway. I have some other news though. Your friend Richard Desmond is dead. He was found in his apartment, classic execution style. He was just a lowlife villain, but a connected one, doing anything for the highest bidder. He also had a record in the UK, petty stuff, drug trafficking."
Frank took in the words as he watched a dog lying flat on its side, sleeping on the shaded platform as though it were dead. "He was assassinated?"
"Yep. Right or wrong, he's out of the picture."
"Jesus!" Frank paused before continuing: "Listen, I've got another name for you. Theo Kampala. I met him in Goa but I found him in Krabi with a dead guesthouse owner. He admitted involvement and then died before I could get anything more out of him. He'd been shot and the other guy had been throttled with piano wire."
"That doesn't sound good."
"What the hell is going on? Why are they doing this, Carl?"
"Frank, it's pretty complicated from what I can see. We've got the Hong Kong authorities screaming the same questions. It looks like a False Flag op. Basically the Chinese have set this up and tried to make it look like an MI6 gig. There are stories in the Chinese press that it's a Brit operation and the authorities are sticking to that story and accusing us of murdering Hong Kong citizens. To what end I do not know. You should get the hell out of there and come home."
"And get locked up for God knows how long? You know as well as I do that I'm still blamed by the Hong Kong authorities and probably by your lot, officially anyway. Maybe not by you personally, Carl, but I don't trust anyone at the moment."
"Look, I'm trying to find out all I can. Hong Kong Police did contact us trying to verify a report we allegedly sent them. It claimed you were connected to us as well as a few terrorist organisations."
"What?"
"It came from Hong Kong, not here. But Frank, listen, we'll sort this out, don't worry."
Frank fell silent as the line crackled badly for a few seconds before returning to normal. He was about to say something and then thought better of it as a thought crossed his mind.
"You OK, Frank? Hello?"
"Yes, Carl, I’m still here. Listen, what is the British press saying? Please tell me my photo isn’t plastered all over the bloody Sun newspaper?"
"No, we buried it. There was a small piece in the Times but it's hardly made the news. Everyone's attention is on the Gulf war."
Frank sighed in relief. "OK, I'll call you later, Carl. Thanks for your help mate." He put down the phone and walked back to where Maria was waiting outside Surat Thani train station.
"Is everything OK?" she asked.
Frank forced a smile but his mind was still taking in what Carl had said. "My friend gave me some background but the Bangkok situation has changed slightly. Want to get a drink?"
Frank wondered for a moment if the report Carl had mentioned had been doctored by someone in London, not Hong Kong. Had he been involved somehow and was now attempting to cover his tracks by telling him?
Now that Richard was dead and God knows who else, there was no reason to go to Bangkok, except, of course, to get the money he'd stashed there. But going to the Thai capital now seemed too dangerous.
"Frank?" Maria studied him, her hand touching his as they sat in a café near the train station. He shook his head and smiled. "Sorry, I’m miles away."
His face went serious. "Maria. The guy I wanted to get some answers from in Bangkok is dead. I think you're right. Going there was never a good idea."
She looked at him, shocked, and then asked how. Frank told her and she looked relieved that he had scrapped that plan.
"I think I need to lie low for a while. I read about a great place. It means a train back South again, I'm afraid, and possibly a boat. If you're game, that is?"
"Well, well. You are the dark horse, Mr Bowen." She gave him a full smile, the one he could never resist.
Neither of them noticed the blue Nissan parked opposite.
Chapter 36
Ho Zhang looked out across the Beijing skyline; the grey smog settled leaving only vague shapes of buildings visible as if it were a painting. He suspected that he might be seeing the view for the last time and put on his jacket before checking himself in the mirror. He then made his way down in the lift, stepping out into the humidity, and told his driver to take him to the headquarters of the Ministry of State
Security.
Zhang stepped warily up the polished steps to the building, and entered the vast lobby area that echoed his footsteps up to the ceiling. He reported his appointment and verified his identification before sitting down on a long bench. After half an hour of waiting, a guard walked over, dressed in immaculate uniform, and asked him to accompany him to the lift.
On the top floor, Zhang waited another fifteen minutes before being called into the office. He bowed and sat down nervously in front of Xu Yun, the agency head, who nodded as he finished off writing on a notepad in front of him. Yun had a bullish red face and large bags under his eyes. A reflection of nearly fifty years in the intelligence service, thought Zhang as he glanced over the framed certificates on the wall behind him. There was a photograph of a much younger Yun shaking the hands of a man that he did not recognise.
Yun stood up and Zhang quickly followed his lead and they shook hands.
"Thanks for coming, Ho Zhang," he said gruffly and pulled a folder out that was set aside, opening it to reveal Zhang's file.
"So," he began, "Mr Zhang. A graduate at The University of International Affairs?" Zhang nodded in agreement. He had enrolled at the University in 1979 which had re-opened a year earlier, following a hiatus due to the Cultural Revolution. The University had been brought under the control of the Ministry of Public Security in 1965 and was charged with training intelligence agents for the Investigation Department, which later became the Ministry of State Security.
"And you seemed to be in the right place at the right time when the National People's Congress established the Ministry of State Security under the State Council?" Yun looked up and peered at him from under a pair of thick eyebrows.
"Yes, you could put it like that, yes." The MSS had indeed been established out of the old intelligence service, the Central Investigation Department of the Ministry of Public Security under Deng Xiaoping, perceiving a growing threat of subversion and sabotage.
