The First End (16 page)

Hu understood the gravity of the situation, and
he started to climb the shack wall just as the other two guards,
having heard their companion’s cry, came running out the door to
look over the edge.

Bill hoped fervently that the two guards would
mistake the man’s fall for an accident and not look around for
other possibilities. Hu, nimble as a cat, darted up the wall and
rolled onto the shack’s roof. Bill Gardner followed more slowly,
finding scant hand holds on the splintery wood, and praying that
the two other soldiers wouldn’t turn around and look.

Neither did. They talked excitedly as they
looked over the edge, pointing and arguing amongst themselves as
they tried to locate their dead companion. Bill managed to get to
the roof, and he followed Hu’s example and rolled along the top
until he came to the other side of the shack. He dropped down and
crouched in the shadows there next to Hu. They waited.

Finally the two soldiers ran down the trail in
the direction that Bill and Hu had come from, that being the
quickest way into the gorge and to the body of their companion.
Gardner regretted the murder, for murder it was. The man had been
innocent and Bill had killed him in cold blood without so much as a
chance to defend himself. No matter how necessary the man’s death
might have been, Bill felt ill.

Hu whispered in his ear, “They gone. Come. Stay
low.”

They hurried along the path until the shack had
disappeared behind them. Once Bill felt safe enough, he pulled his
companion to a stop. “Wait. What will they do about this
incident?”

“Report it.”

“I know that, but will the Chinese react swiftly
and come to investigate, or will they just ignore the incident,
thinking it an accident?”

Hu shrugged. “Who knows?”

“Yeah, who knows…” Bill ran a frustrated hand
through his hair. More than ever, he felt like this mission was
doomed to failure. He just couldn’t see how he, mostly alone, could
meet his objectives. Shaking aside the feeling, he turned towards
the trail. “Okay, my friend. We have a long walk ahead of us, so we
might as well get started.”

Hu nodded and they trotted off. Gardner couldn’t
help but think that both of them were somehow dupes in a conspiracy
that reached well beyond what they knew of.

High up on the mountain another Chinese soldier
lowered his binoculars and considered what he had seen. The two
men, one looking to be a white man, American, Russian, or
European—he didn’t know which—had slipped by the watch post below.
He hadn’t seen how the pair had made it past the guards below, but
he had clearly heard the death scream of one of the soldiers. He
didn’t need to see it to know the man had fallen off the ledge and
into the gorge. Accident or not, the timing was suspicious. He was
in no position to do anything about it. His role was to observe the
Vietnamese border and report any troop movements, and this secret
watch post was isolated.

He rubbed his tired eyes. He had been up here
for four months and he longed to be back home. Sighing, he moved to
a small shack situated under some trees. He needed to report this.
He hoped the report might jog someone’s memory that he was out here
all alone. Maybe, he would even be relieved and sent home. Anyway,
someone was sure to be interested in the fact that a white man had
slipped across the border.

Nearly two weeks later, Bill and Hu finally
reached Beijing. Bill had no doubt that if the little man hadn’t
been along, he would have been captured or killed long ago. Hu knew
where to go, what to avoid, and where they could find food and
shelter. Bill found it all surreal. He felt like a fugitive, and
every sound put him on edge. He wondered how long before a door was
kicked in and soldiers would surround him. He didn’t relish such a
fate. No doubt he would disappear into some hidden prison where he
would die a very lonely death.

Hu somehow maintained a level of optimism that
put Bill to shame. The small Chinaman seemed invigorated by the
cloak and dagger lifestyle. The man’s hope and faith in seeing his
mother released kept him going.

Hu led Bill through a suburb of Beijing filled
with immigrants from all over. There were enough large white men
walking around to make Bill’s presence less notable to the local
populace. Hu seemed to know exactly where to go as they made their
way through the tall apartment buildings.

“We stay here,” Hu explained. “Many Americans.
Many Brits. You fit in.”

“That’s good,” Bill replied. “Tell me, Hu, how
are we going to find this plane? How do we even know it is still in
the area?”

“Still here,” he insisted.

“How do you know that? If Iran bought it, why
hadn’t they delivered it by now. It has been over two weeks since
the auction.”

Hu shrugged. “I told need…” he seemed to
struggle with his words “…demonstration,” he finished. “Iran no buy
until see what plane can do.”

That made sense. They would want a live
demonstration before the funds change hands, so the Chinese
government wouldn’t risk moving it until afterwards. That gave
Gardner a very narrow timeframe in which he could accomplish his
task. He didn’t imagine that either the Iranians or the Chinese
were anxious to delay the transfer for very long. No, the
demonstration would take place shortly, of that Bill had no doubt,
but how to find out when and where.

“Do you know anymore?” he asked his guide.

Hu shrugged again. “No. Only know in
Beijing.”

“Okay, then I’m going to need a map and someone
who knows everything about the city.” He thought about it for a
bit. “Preferably a thief.”

Hu blinked in confusion. “A thief?”

“Oh yes. Thieves make it their business to know
where everything is. They need to know where to steal and where not
to steal. If anyone knows, it would be a thief.” Bill smiled. “Yes,
that would do nicely. Can you get me the map?”

“Yes.”

“Good. Then I’ll go get us a thief.”

Hu regarded Gardner with a look that questioned
the sanity of the American. “How you find a thief?”

Bill chuckled and shook his head. “Don’t worry,
my friend. I’m an American. I’m a big fat target for a wily thief.
All I need is a large wallet and directions to the shopping
district. The thief will come to me.” He looked around. “Where do I
find you?”

Hu pointed to a hotel. “There. I no go in. I
wait for you.”

Bill understood. This district housed many
foreigners, and only Chinese of influence and money would come
here. Gardner imagined that a significant amount of international
business took place in such lobbies. “Fine. I’ve got some money, so
when I return with our thief, we will figure out where to stay.” He
nodded towards the hotel. “I don’t know if we should stay in
something so obvious.”

Hu grinned. “Large store two kilometers that
way.” He pointed towards the east. “You go there. Catch thief.”

“Thanks.”

Gardner walked for perhaps a mile before finding
a large shopping mall. The mall was thronged by people, many
tourists and foreigners who had plenty of money to fling around. He
looked down at his scruffy looking clothes and realized he needed
to change into something else. Currently, he didn’t look like a
rich American.

Finding a clothing store, he purchased new
clothing using a credit card—nothing fancy, just expensive causal
ware. It felt good to be in some clean clothes. Since the train
ride into the heart of China, he had managed to find the time to
take a shower or two, but his serviceable clothing looked…ill-used,
to say the least. He still carried the satchel with the explosives
in it, his knife, and a handgun he had picked up along the way. He
had enough money to live lavishly for a time, but the sooner he
could complete this mission the better.

Looking more like a rich American, he began
strolling from shop to shop, keeping his eyes out for any
pickpocket or would-be thief. He knew better than to wonder into
isolated areas—especially outside—where a gang could simply beat
him and take what they wanted. No, he needed a solitary thief, one
with a quick wit and nimble fingers.

Bill had several other reasons for wanting a
thief. Thieves would not be used by the government to spy on either
their own citizens or the many foreigners in this part of the city.
In addition a thief would most likely know ways around the city
that others, even professional spies, would not. General Hynes had
given him the tracker to locate the beacon he had stashed aboard
the plane. But he had to get within a mile of it to be sure, and a
thief would cut down the search time significantly.

People thronged around him, chatting, laughing,
and hurrying about their business. Occasionally he spotted security
mingling with the crowds, and once he saw a group of slurry
teenagers slinking through the crowd, dressed in styles ten years
outdated in the States.

The mall atmosphere resembled those back home,
except more of these people felt comfortable in tight spaces,
jostling each other, brushing up against one another in lines or at
counters. Americans would find the invasion of personal space
disquieting, but here in China such contact was the norm. In
addition, Bill realized, it allowed the pickpockets more
opportunities to lift a wallet or piece of jewelry here or
there.

For thirty minutes, the lawyer wandered around
the mall without spotting a single person who might be a thief. It
dawned on him then that he needed to make himself conspicuous—an
easy mark. How to do that? He spotted a jewelry store situated in
the corner of a junction of the mall. Perfect.

He wandered in and pointed to the most expensive
men’s watch in the place. “I would like to see that, please.”

The salesman’s eyes lit up. No doubt he was
already calculating his commission on a watch that cost nearly
nineteen thousand dollars. “Of course, sir,” he replied in passable
English. “This is a very good choice. The Jaeger Amvox5 just is
perfect for any occasion, providing just the right amount of flash
and decorum.”

Gardner nodded, knowing the rehearsed speech
meant little to the salesman. “Let me see it.”

The man retrieved the watch from the secure case
and handed it to Bill who looked carefully at it. After a moment,
he snorted and tossed the watch back on the counter—much to the
horrified man’s astonishment. “What is this!” Bill demanded,
raising his voice. “Do I look like an idiot! This watch is just a
cheap imitation!” Actually, Bill had no idea if that was true or
not. But in China, who knew for sure?

“Sir!” the man protested. “I assure you—”

“You assure me? Are you questioning me, sir? Do
you think I don’t know my watches?” Bill pulled out his wallet and
began pulling bills out one at a time, tossing them carefree onto
the countertop. “You might as well rob me now!” he yelled into the
ashen man’s face. “Take it! You might as well! Trying to sell me an
imitation!”

“No, sir, please, it is genuine,” the man
hastened to say. Another man, probably the owner, was rapidly
approaching, his face a study in consternation at the disruption in
his store.

Bill pulled out some more money and threw it in
the face of the salesman. “Steal me blind will you? Then take it
now! Take it all! I heard stories about places like this. Selling
sham merchandise! I’m insulted!”

The owner finally arrived, shoving his
speechless salesman out of the way. “Sir,” he said, gathering up
the bills and pushing them back towards Bill. “We are an honest
business. Please take your money and leave.”

“You’re blasted right, I’ll leave,” Gardner
muttered loudly. He snatched his money from the counter and stuffed
it haphazardly into his wallet, which he thrust into his back
pocket without any attempt to secure it safely. Turning on heel, he
stormed out of the shop and shoved his way through the crowd as if
irritated that they would not give way before him.

Now, where are you, my thieving friend,
he thought to himself. Someone should have noticed that little
display and prepared to make a move the moment he left that store.
No thief could resist all that money he had flashed around and the
seemingly easy location to get at his wallet.
Come on! Where are
you?

A young man, his hair dyed red like any number
of the teenagers that roamed the mall, suddenly bumped into him. Up
until that moment, Bill had been shoving people out of his way,
leaving a trail of protests and curses around him. No doubt, this
thief assumed to receive the same treatment, only he expected to
have Bill’s wallet firmly in hand when the lawyer shoved him.
Instead, Bill grabbed the man’s wrist and pulled him close.

The bulge where his wallet should be was gone.
Bill had to hand it to the thief. He had nimble fingers.

Locking the man’s wrist, he twisted, bringing
the thief around and facing away from the Gardner. The hold was
painful and the thief let out a startled cry as Bill brought him to
his toes.

“Please, good sir! I give it back! I give it
back!”

Surprised and pleased that the man spoke
English, Bill bent over the smaller man and whispered into his ear.
“Do exactly what I tell you, and I’ll let you have the wallet and
the money.”

“I mean no harm!” the man insisted.

“But I might. You will come with me and make no
fuss. Try to get away and I’ll hunt you down and turn you over to
those nice looking police men. I think they would love to find out
about your chosen career path.”

“No! Please! I do as you say. I come!”

“Glad to hear it. Now move.” Keeping the thief’s
arm twisted behind his back, he shoved the man forward. He marched
the terrified man out the door and down the street. For a quarter
of a mile, he said nothing, just focused on keeping the man moving
forward.

Eventually they came to the hotel where Hu
spotted them and came up quickly. “He thief?” he asked with a nod
to the prisoner.