Part 60 (1/2)
Han Ch'in, stopping in the doorway, saw at once what had happened. Newell lay on the bed, his mouth gagged, his hands tied behind his back. His throat was cut from ear to ear, blood pooled darkly on the pillows and sheets. Beyond him, on the far side of the room, the curtains drifted in and out in the breeze from the shattered window.
The girl was gone.
Han Ch'in felt his stomach drop away. This was his fault One hundred per cent down to him. The visiting President was dead, a.s.sa.s.sinated in a safe house, and he had introduced him to the killer.
He dropped to his knees.
Turner examined the body quickly, then turned. His eyes took in the kneeling form of Han Ch'in by the door, then looked past him at his own men, who stood in the doorway, wide-eyed with horror.
”Hansen, Josephs ... go down and get the body. Then get the mess cleared up. And don't say a f.u.c.king word to anyone, right? Not a f.u.c.king word!” They nodded, then turned and disappeared. Turner s.h.i.+vered, then looked to Han Ch'in again. ”As for you, Major Li, you'd better contact your people at once and find out what you can about this Wyatt fellow. And you'd better let President Wei know while you're at it” Han Ch'in glanced up, distraught ”I'm sorry, Major, I...” 'Just f.u.c.king leave it!” Turner barked, all of his pent-up tension in those four words. ”He was a good man. And now he's dead, f.u.c.k iti So don't give me sorry, Major LLI don't wanna hear.”
Han Ch'in gave the smallest nod, then, standing, hurried from the room. Aiya, he thought, thinking of what his superiors would say when they found out Ai-f.u.c.king-ya!
Cho Yi was alone in the trading room. As Li Yuan closed the door and walked across, the old man looked up.
”If s happening,” he said, as if Li Yuan should understand what he meant ”I can't believe it, but it is.”
Yuan sat on the far side of the desk, puzzled by the look on Cho's face. He didn't seem troubled so much as bemused.
”Okay, what is it? We bought some valueless stock?” ”You might say,” Cho answered, vague to the point of irritating Li Yuan. ”Look ... I could be in bed now, Master Cho. Have we a problem, or haven't we?”
Cho laughed. Again, it was strange, because Li Yuan could not grasp what was meant by it Was he amused or not? And if he was, then why! ”Well?” he asked, when Cho did not answer. ”Look for yourself,” Cho said, sitting back and folding his arms' across his chest ”See what you make of it.” Yuan frowned, then activated the screen in front of him. For a moment he simply stared, then his mouth fell open. ”f.u.c.k ...”
”Yes, f.u.c.k. f.u.c.k times eighty billion neh?” ”Eighty.. .?” Li Yuan looked up and met the old man's eyes. This time he did understand. ”But can't we ...?” ”Stop it?” Cho Yi laughed again. This time Li Yuan had no difficulty placing Cho Yi's laughter. It was the ironic laughter of a man who saw that his time was up. ”But there are controls, surely?” ”Whoever started this removed them.” ”Removed them? That's not possible, is it?” ”Oh, I'd say anything was possible, if you wanted to commit financial suicide. You simply have to bribe men, or threaten them, or have them killed. And then replace those you've had killed. Until you control the system. And then ... see, Yuan? ... see how if s happening before our eyes? ... you just kick away the props.”
Yuan stared at the screen, bemused now. ”But who would do that? Who'd have the power? And if they had the power, then why? It would be like shooting oneself in the head!”
”Exactly. But someone has. Someone big.”
Li Yuan shook his head slowly. ”You've made projections?”
Cho nodded.
”And?”
”Freefall,” Cho answered, smiling a beaming smile at Yuan. ”Straight to the bottom and out the other side.”
”But why? I mean, surely someone's spotted whaf s going on? Surely someone's taking action?”
In answer Cho Yi turned and switched on the news screen just above him and to his right. As it came alight it showed the image of a woman lying on top of what looked like an airduct of some kind. She was quite clearly dead, blood oozing from her in a dozen different places.
As the commentary switched in, the camera travelled up the external window-wall of what appeared to be a plush hotel of some kind, until it focused on the shattered window of a room.
”... of what was President Newell's own suite in the prestigious Eight Dragons Hotel. While the President's spokesman refuses to give details of the incident, it is understood that the President himself was not involved, and was actually at an official reception across town in Ching Shan Park ...” Cho cut the sound then looked back across at Li Yuan. ”Rumour is that Newell's dead. a.s.sa.s.sinated by the girl. She too committed suicide Threw herself out of a thirty-eighth-storey window. Strange that neh? A curious synchronicity, wouldn't you say?”
”You think the two things are connected?”
Cho laughed. ”Don't you, Yuan? What better distraction than the a.s.sa.s.sination of a visiting President? What better way of keeping eyes off one screen and on another?”
Li Yuan gestured towards the screen. ”But this is more important, surely?” ”You know that, and I know that... but our friends in the media don't Not yet, anyway. They're still speculating as to whether Newell has been killed, and if so, whether there will be a war.”
”A war?”Cho nodded, then looked down.
And then it struck Li Yuan. ”Oh, s.h.i.+t! Han Ch'in!”
Kim followed K. into the lift, a sense of real urgency gripping him. He had seen the pictures on the news screens in the lobby of the apartment block, and heard the commentary, and knew now that time was running out for them. As the doors slid closed behind them, he looked up at the screen in the corner of the lift, then spoke to the air ”Channel 96. With sound.”
At once it switched to the news channel, showing the latest pictures from outside the Eight Dragons Hotel.
”... and whilst the woman cannot be immediately recognised after falling thirty-eight storeys, it has been confirmed by eyewitnesses that she was naked and that, according to one, she appeared not to scream as she fell.” The image cut to the view from a news glider, positioned in line with the shattered window of the Presidential Suite. Armed men were gathered in that window, blocking any view into the room, but that only served to stoke up speculation.
”It is now almost twenty minutes since the incident, and still no word has come from President NeweE's spokesman, or indeed the President himself, about the affair, but it has now been confirmed that earlier reports from their office that the President was at a reception in Ching Shang Park were erroneous, and that President Newett was not seen by anybody at that reception. Which leads us to ask just what has been going on at the Eight Dragons Hotel, and what are the implications for relations between America and China if-as rumours have it -President Newell has been a.s.sa.s.sinated. It must be recalled that no American President has ever been murdered in a foreign country...” The lift stopped. The doors slid open silently. Ahead of them lay their corridor. Their door was the third on the left. K. looked to Kim as they stepped out onto the plushly carpeted floor. ”I'd say the s.h.i.+t's really hit the fan, wouldn't you?”
”So what do we do now?”
K. stopped in front of their door and took the door key from his pocket.
”Simple. We get Karr and Chen and Ebert. And then we get the b.a.s.t.a.r.d.”
”And the markets?”
”That depends.”
”On what?”
K. turned the key and began to open the door. ”On whether we can get back in time. If we can get back in an hour...” He stopped dead. Kim, following him in, cannoned into the back of him, then blinked, astonished by the sight that met his eyes.
The hoop of fire was gone. And DeVore... Kim swallowed ... DeVore was sitting on the bed, a semi-automatic in one hand. He beckoned them in with the other hand, then grinned.
”I'd say that was a rather big if, wouldn't you?”
CHAPTER-23.
time's last hour.
The storm had pa.s.sed. Ragged clouds drifted about the edge of the great depression in the earth. Only an hour back the dark earth had steamed; now a great carpet of white flowers covered it; lilies, their tall, elegant white throats turned to the sky, spilling oxygen into the air. Fifty kilometres away, to the south of the ruined generator, the sun shone on a different scene. On the gentle slope of a wooded hill, a cruiser lay on its side, its port wing crumpled, smoke wisping up from its damaged engine. The hatch was open, the inside of the craft in darkness. Nearby, hidden beneath the trees, the entrance of a cave gaped black. Silence. Not even the call of birds or insects. And then, far off, a muted drone, growing louder by the moment.
A second cruiser, smaller than the first, flew over the valley, its shadow flitting over the canopy of the trees. It banked then circled back, slowing until it hovered over the fallen craft Then, edging back and across, it descended, settling in a patch of meadow by the stream at the foot of the valley.
The engines died. There was a hiss as the hatch opened; the dank of booted feet upon the ramp.
Daniel stood there a moment, squinting out at the wooded hillside through the visor of his helmet, his senses twitching, then he jumped down and began to make his way up the slope towards DeVore's cruiser.