Gunmetal Gray

CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE

After Zoya Zakharova dressed in dark blue warm-ups and tennis shoes, she and Court were shoved into the back of an SUV and driven up into the hills to the northeast of the resort, with a second SUV full of Chinese operatives trailing behind. Court and Zoya were not hooded or blindfolded, which they appreciated, but men sat on either side of them, and both held pistols jammed into the ribs of their captives. Every bump in the exceedingly bumpy road made Court hold his breath, as the asshole on his right knocked the barrel of his weapon right into Court’s right side where he’d been shot the previous month. Court could see that Zoya was equally stressed about the jackass on her left and his gun banging into her side as the SUV bounced along.

Court had been frisked by the Chinese, but they’d missed the tiny vial of scopolamine hydrobromide in his left cargo pocket. He’d done nothing special to conceal it, but it was only an inch long, and the man searching him had squeezed the pocket and found Court’s phone, and then moved on to check the other pockets.

It wasn’t that Court particularly needed a central nervous system depressant at the moment, but he would keep its presence on his body at the back of his mind.

After less than a ten-minute drive, the two SUVs pulled off the paved rural road and took a gravel drive through a gate opened by two Chinese men in their twenties. This winding drive led to the south, up a steep incline, and ended at a ranch-style home with sweeping views of the ocean. The door next to Court was opened by another young Chinese man in plainclothes, and he and Zoya were directed to go straight into the front door of the home.

Near the entrance to the ranch house, yet another pair of Chinese men dressed in casual wear stood, trying, Court decided, not to look like security officers. He could see the pistols under the men’s white shirts and linen pants, and the earpieces in their ears, so they failed in this endeavor, but Court imagined these were Dai’s men, from the People’s Liberation Army, and playing the role of civilian wasn’t really in their bag of tricks.

On a second-floor balcony over the entrance he saw another pair of men. They sat at a table drinking bottled water, but Court had no doubt the men had firearms and orders to keep watch all around.

Inside the walls of the home, Court and Zoya encountered somewhere between twelve and fifteen more men, bringing the total number of operatives around here to over thirty. These wouldn’t all be bodyguards for Colonel Dai. No… Court was pretty sure he was looking at some sort of paramilitary strike force.

Court and Zoya entered the kitchen of the home, where Colonel Dai Longhai sat alone at a wooden table with a laptop open in front of him and a mobile phone in his hand. His eyes furrowed when he saw Zoya, but he put down the phone and motioned for the two of them to take a seat in front of him.

This was awkward for Court, to say the least. He wanted to speak to Dai outside the earshot of Zoya, but he saw no way to keep her out of it now. He could only hope she had the good sense to play dumb, like she was just a tourist Court had picked up along the way. While in truth she didn’t know what was happening right now, surely she was sharp enough to know that admitting to the Chinese that she was a Russian spy who’d been running the task force in charge of kidnapping Fan would not go over well in this company.

Court went on the offensive immediately with the colonel. “What the hell are you and all your goons doing here?”

Dai said, “Obviously we are here for the same reason you are here. Fan Jiang is inside the walls of the property in the jungle just a few hundred meters away.” Dai looked at the attractive brunette with the wet hair, then back to Court. “That is why you are here, is it not? Or did you decide to go on vacation right in the middle of our partnership?”

Court said, “Of course that’s why I’m here. But that’s a big piece of property and I haven’t pinpointed Fan Jiang inside it yet. You guys showing up like this will just alert Chamroon’s people and cause Fan to escape yet again.”

Dai said, “The moment for pinpoint actions has passed, Mr. Gentry. And believe me, we’ve been very careful in the way we arrived. No one in the Chamroon property knows we are here.” Now he looked at Zoya, but he kept his comments directed to Gentry, as if she were unable to speak for herself. “And who is your friend here?”

“She’s… she’s nobody.”

“Then you won’t mind us eliminating her.”

“I would mind that, very much,” Court said, mustering as much toughness in his words as he could, considering the circumstances. “I met her at my hotel in Bangkok. I couldn’t very well come down to this resort by myself. That would have stuck out. She’s just part of my cover.”

Now Dai spoke directly to Zoya. “I understand you are from Chicago?”

Zoya kept the Chicago accent in place, and a twinge of fear in her voice. “Yes, sir. I barely know this guy. I was just looking for a free trip to the beach.”

Dai stared her down. “Where is your passport?”

“It was stolen.”

“I see.”

Court jumped in again. “Colonel, I told you I would contact you when I had a target.”

“Yes, you did. A day and a half ago. Your inability to communicate in a timely manner has caused me considerable frustration.”

“You hired a private operative, and I am operating privately. Your inability to understand this fact is causing me considerable frustration.”

Court glanced at Zoya. She was in character, looking at the floor nervously. She’d even generated some sweat on her forehead.

Dai asked, “How did you track Fan here?”

Court said, “I encouraged Nattapong Chamroon to give me the information. He said that his brother, Kulap Chamroon, would bring Fan here via helicopter after hiding out in the capital for a couple of days. I don’t know if he is here or not, but I was going into the property to find out. If you get out of here before anyone sees you, then I will have a better chance of—”

Dai heaved a deep breath and blew it out. “Fan Jiang communicated with the American embassy in Bangkok. He said Kulap Chamroon had him under guard. We were able to pinpoint the location from where the e-mail was sent.”

Of course Court pretended like this was news to him. “Was there any other intel in the e-mail?”

“No. Nothing more. Only that he hoped America would rescue him.”

Court now asked, “And Sir Donald? Where is he?”

Dai smiled a little, a look that gave Court chills. Finally he said, “You can’t even pretend like you don’t care anymore. That ship has sailed. Yes, your old friend is here. Until this operation is complete, he goes where I go. Don’t worry, you will see him shortly.”

“Good,” Court said. And then he added, “Because I want to beat his ass for hiring me into this fucking job.”

Dai smiled. “You have nothing to complain about. I am a man of my word, and you will be paid when we achieve our objective. Look at the facts; the objective is within our grasp. We will raid the Chamroon compound tonight at midnight. We will kill everything that opposes us, and when we find Sergeant Fan, we can all go home.”

Court said, “Let me go in with your team.”

Dai shook his head vehemently. “No. You will stay here, under guard with Fitzroy. And your friend here, as well. If something should go wrong tonight and Fan makes his escape… then I will continue to require your services. As much as it pains me to say it, you just might be the only person working for me who has accomplished much of anything in the past two weeks. The information that Fan was at the Chamroon property next door came from a signals intelligence interception by Beijing. But you already knew, and you were already here.”

Despite what Dai had just said, Court knew there was no way the PLA colonel was going to let Zoya walk out of here alive. Dai couldn’t kill her now, because he did not know if he’d need Court’s compliance in the future. But if this group of paramilitaries around this property was able to assassinate Fan this evening, then the “girl from Chicago” would have to die because she’d seen too much.

Court wondered if Dai just planned on doing away with him when this was over, as well.

Court looked to the colonel. “What about you? Are you going into that estate tonight?”

Dai grinned now. He wasn’t quite the cat who caught the canary, but he was the cat who saw that someone had left the canary’s cage door open. “I will go in behind the raiding party. I would love to be the last thing Fan Jiang sees before he leaves this world, but I fear he will already be long dead by the time I get to him.”

Dai looked up to Major Xi. “The major will take you and your friend here upstairs. You will stay there until our operation is complete.”

Court and Zoya were led up a flight of stairs, down a hall, and through a set of doors into a large master suite: a sitting area and a bedroom off to the side. A balcony off the sitting area hung over a cliff, nearly two hundred feet straight down to white waves and jagged shoreline rocks.

Sir Donald Fitzroy was sitting on the sofa, guarded by a single young Chinese officer in a black T-shirt and warm-up pants.

Court saw that Don’s right hand was bandaged, and the last two fingers on his hand were clearly gone. He wore a Huntsman & Sons suit and a thin sheen of sweat, obviously from the pain he’d endured in the days since Court’s actions had led to Fitzroy’s torture.

Before Court could speak to Sir Donald, Xi said, “You will remain in this master suite. If you want water, there is the bathroom sink. You are not to step out onto the balcony. I will have men there with orders to shoot you if you do.”

Court looked at Xi. “So… no dinner in the oven, and if you go out to look at the view, you die. Some B-and-B you’re running here.”

Court’s gallows humor was an attempt to draw a chuckle from Zoya, but she just stared at him like he was an idiot. Fitzroy didn’t seem to be in the mood for jokes, either.

Major Xi just shrugged. “The colonel makes the rules. I wouldn’t have brought a gweilo in for this operation in the first place, and if I were in charge, I’d put a bullet in each of you now and lead the raid tonight myself.”

“You drew the short straw, did you?”

Xi just looked at Court a minute, then said, “I can’t go because I have an injury. I was shot in the leg in the spa in Bangkok. It wouldn’t surprise me at all if you were the one who did it.”

“It would surprise me. I didn’t shoot anybody but Nattapong Chamroon.”

Xi said, “Dai is in a trusting mood because he sees the end of this unfortunate episode for our nation, for our organization. That’s why you’re alive. If he has a reason to doubt you for an instant, that will change.”

Xi turned and stepped out of the room with two of his men, and two more went out to the balcony, shutting the door behind them.

Court looked at his watch and saw that it was four thirty p.m. Dai’s operation would kick off in seven and a half hours, and the Americans would arrive an hour after that.

When the three prisoners were left alone, Court greeted Fitzroy, then turned to Zoya. “Obviously you have questions.”

Zoya said, “Yeah, like who is this guy?”

“Don, this is Whitney. Whitney, Don.”

Fitzroy made a face like he wasn’t buying the name, then reached out with his left and shook Zoya’s hand. “Sorry to meet you under such circumstances.”

She just nodded.

Fitzroy looked back and forth between the two. Finally he said, “I’ve been in this room since the moment the Chinese got here to the villa this morning. They rented the place and entered the same time I did. They didn’t plant any bugs. We can talk freely.”

Court now winced with the inevitable fallout from what he was about to say. “Whitney… would you mind if I spoke with my friend here first? He might be able to clear up some things, so when I try to explain all this to you—”

She got up and left the room without a word, walking into the bedroom. When Zoya shut the door to the bedroom, the older man said, “A girlfriend? Really, lad?”

Court rolled his eyes. “She’s not a girlfriend.” Then softly he said, “SVR.”

Fitzroy jerked his head around towards the bedroom, astonishment on his face. Shifting back to Court he said, “Her? You’re mad.”

“This whole thing is mad, Don. I don’t understand what the hell is going on.”

“She’s Russian?”

“Yep.”

“And she’s with you?”

“Sort of. She trusted me, till it became apparent I was working for the Chinese. I had neglected to mention that to her.”

Fitz was still looking at the door to the bedroom. “Incredible. Russian intelligence? What’s her angle in all this?”

“She’s on my side now.”

“Raises the question: whose side are you on?”

Court did not respond directly. “How’s the hand?”

Fitzroy held up the bandaged appendage. “It feels quite like some sod cut off two fingers with a straight razor.”

“Sorry about that.”

Fitzroy reached for a decanter on the coffee table, filled with an amber liquid. “I’ve been looking at this since I got here. What do you suppose it is?”

“I don’t guess it matters; you’ll drink it anyway.”

“Too true,” Fitzroy said as he poured two healthy shots in crystal glasses. Without even smelling it he downed his full portion.

He made a little face. “Whiskey. Nothing special, but not utter shit, either.”

He gestured towards Court’s glass.

Court shook his head, so Fitzroy lifted it and took a sip. After he swallowed he said, “I don’t blame you about the hand. I blame whoever got you into this in the first place. You shouldn’t even be involved.”

“What does that mean?”

“C’mon, lad. I don’t believe for an instant you just fell down from heaven when I got kidnapped by Colonel Dai. No. You were sent in. I’d say by Langley, but since Langley is your sworn enemy, I confess I’m at a loss. Whoever sent you on this little fool’s errand, I am quite certain you didn’t come to assassinate Fan Jiang just to earn me my freedom. Your aim from the beginning has been to capture Fan and hand him off to a Western power.”

Court said, “That was the job I took. But Dai will kill you if I double-cross him.”

“Of course he will. If you rescue Fan from all this, Dai will put a bullet in my skull, and then he’ll put a bullet in his own, because he can’t go back to China without Fan’s head on a pike. But now Fan is nearby, and Dai has thirty stone-cold killers readying to raid that property and give poor Fan a terminal overdose of lead. And at that point, it’s anyone’s bet what Colonel Dai will do to us.”

Court spoke low. “The Agency is sending in an SAD team. Oh one hundred hours.”

Fitzroy finished his second shot, then rubbed his meaty face with his good hand. “Dear lord. What a mess.”

“Yeah.”

The Englishman sat back on the couch and looked at Court for a long time.

“What is it?” Court asked.

“I’m trying to figure out how you became involved with Langley.”

“The short version is they told me you’d been snatched in Hong Kong and I was to go in and get intel from you and Colonel Dai, something to identify Fan’s location.”

“And you did just that.”

“Damn lot of good it did.”

“Don’t blame yourself for any of this. If Langley had just stayed out of it from the beginning, we could have avoided the whole thing.”

Court cocked his head. “Who is we?”

Fitzroy reacted to Court’s confusion. “Ah… I see. You don’t know. Langley just told you I was over in HK working for Dai on the Fan hit.”

“That’s right. Dai hired you to kill Fan Jiang. Was there something else?”

“I’d been in Hong Kong for weeks before I’d ever heard of Colonel Dai.”

“Doing what?”

Fitzroy smiled. “Oh, boy, you really are in the dark, lad. I was over here on a job for MI6.”

Court raised an eyebrow. “You work for 6?”

“Things come up. You know how it goes.”

Court nodded slowly. “Yeah, I guess I do.”

“I was hired to oversee the assassination of a man inside mainland China. Damn difficult to do, as it happens.”

“Who… who did they send you in to kill?”

“A PLA man called Major Song Julong. He was—”

Court interrupted. “He was the personal bodyguard of Fan Jiang’s parents.”

“That’s it. MI6 wanted him dead, so I sent a team in to Shanghai to eliminate him.”

“Why would they want to kill the bodyguard of a couple of retirees?”

“It’s a tad complicated, but Song was an agent for the West.”

Pieces were falling together quickly for Court. “Song sent Fan over the border into Hong Kong because his parents were killed in a car crash. He told Fan he’d be killed if he didn’t run.”

“Yes,” said Fitzroy, and he poured himself another drink.

Court said, “Song tried to arrange for the Taiwanese to help Fan, but the PLA got there first and the defection fell apart.”

Fitzroy cocked his head. “No, lad. We… I mean whoever in the West that was really running Song, found out that Song’s plan was to kill Fan’s parents. So they hired me to go in and stop him. I sent a team in to kill the son of a bitch in Shanghai before he did it, but my lads were themselves killed in Shanghai. By who, I do not know.”

“Why did Song want to kill Fan’s parents?”

“I was never told. I was just told there was a timeline, because if I didn’t get Song, the Fans would end up dead. Which, unfortunately, is exactly what happened.”

“How did you get hooked up with Dai?”

“After Fan stumbled over the border with the PLA on his tail and no arms to run into, Colonel Dai came into Hong Kong looking for Fan. Someone told him I was here, and he knew about my network. He knew about you, in fact. It was like that. When he reached out to me, I spoke with MI6, and they realized they had a chance to use me and my network to grab Fan. My teams went looking for him, not to kill him, as Dai thought, but to capture him for the West.”

Court said, “But by then Fan had gotten himself hooked up with Wo Shing Wo, and your men got themselves killed.”

Fitzroy nodded. “That’s when Dai kidnapped me, and that’s when you showed up.”

Court said, “I was sent by Langley. This was sold to me like they had this once-in-a-lifetime chance to get Fan to the West so they could learn his secrets.”

Fitzroy smiled ruefully. “I’d say it was a twice-in-a-lifetime chance. The first time was at the border crossing. If Langley knew about that, which is a safe bet because the Taiwanese knew about it, then it is likely Langley was involved somehow.”

Court said, “I wonder if your people were sent in to scare Song. If he knew people were trying to kill him in Shanghai, he would want out of China. His handlers in the West could get him out, but only if he produced something valuable for them.”

Fitzroy understood. “It was the push he needed that would show him he was in danger. The catalyst that would get him to act. Someone in the West wanted Song to kill Fan’s parents so that Fan would run over the border to avoid being put to death for losing his family collateral.”

Court looked out past the balcony at the darkness there. “So… if this is all true, then the CIA was responsible for the murder of Fan’s parents.”

“CIA, MI6, Taiwan’s NSB, even. A safe bet they were all in it together. Either they conceived of the plan and pushed Song to go along with it, or they sat back and let it happen, happy to be the ultimate beneficiaries of the crime.”

Court put his head in his hands. “Well, this blows.”

“Exceedingly well put, lad.”

Fitzroy drank silently, then held his glass out towards the balcony behind him, towards the big jungle in the distance visible to the east of the ocean. “A cynical plan, to be sure, and a plan that is failing before our eyes. And the final nail in the coffin will take place when the Chinese enter that estate and kill Fan, and then the CIA enter that estate and shoot it out with Chinese intelligence. We are hours away from a nasty incident that could lead to nastier incidents, up to and possibly including war.”

Court whispered to himself. “Christ almighty.”

Both men sat in silence for a moment. Then Fitzroy said, “There is something you can do.”

Court lifted his head quickly. “What?”

“Won’t be easy.”

Court stared Fitzroy down.

Fitz said, “We arrived by boat from the airport this morning, so I saw the layout of the back of this property. I had a nice look around. It’s not for me; I’m old, weak, and slow… but you could do it. Don’t know about the girl, but I’d wager you could do it.”

“Do what?”

“This balcony here. It overhangs a sheer cliff, easily fifty meters of jagged rock down to the sea. It will be no picnic, but it could be done. There are boats there, tied to a dock. You could get in a boat, motor away, and get back to shore where there’s a phone. You won’t save Fan, but you will save the Agency men on the way.”

Court said, “And it won’t save you.”

Fitzroy shook his head, then held up the glass of whiskey in a toast. “I’m a fuckin’ dead man any way you slice it.”

Court thought a moment. “If the girl and I can get the guns off the men on the balcony, then maybe we can—”

“Forget it,” Fitzroy said. “You might recall I used to be in the game, not as a grumpy old man behind a desk, but as a grumpy young man behind a pistol. Trust me that I’ve seen the setup. Major Xi will have a dozen men with him here, even while the attack is going on, and the lines of assault to get to them around this house are no good. To get me out of here you’d have to go through the front of the house, which means taking on each and every man on the premises, and they’ll all know you are coming once you start shooting.

“No, lad. Making your way down the rock wall in the pitch-black night is your only bloody chance. You’d do well to take that chance and leave me to my fate.”

Court knew Fitz was right. He said, “Let me go talk to her.”

“I’ll warn you again. I’ve seen you in action, so I feel confident you can make the climb. But I don’t know about the woman. It was a straight drop down.”

“Trust me, she’ll pull it off better than I will.”

Fitzroy held his glass up. “Well then, go and live to fight another day.”

Court looked at the French doors to the bedroom. “She’s pissed at me right now, so if I don’t come out in five minutes, send help.”

Fitz faked a little smile. “You’re on your own there, lad. You have more training against buildings full of armed opposition than you do having a talk with an angry woman. Can’t say I’d wager much on you now.”

Court looked at the whiskey, then poured himself a healthy shot. “It’s not utter shit, you say?”

“Better a mouse in the pot than no meat at all.”

Court looked at the glass of booze, then at the Englishman. “What?”

“Beggars can’t be choosers, lad.”

“Oh.” Court downed the shot, stood, and headed for the bedroom.

As soon as he entered the bedroom Court closed the French doors behind him, then found Zoya seated on the bed. She was working on something, which surprised Court, but when he saw she had taken the bedsheets and wound them tightly, then tied them together at one end, he realized he should not have been surprised. She added another sheet, making sure the knot was strong enough to hold her weight.

She said, “While you were in there drinking and whispering with the fat guy, I was in here preparing my escape.”

“Off the balcony?”

“You have a better plan?”

Court sat on a chair facing the bed. “No. In fact, I had that plan exactly.”

Zoya kept working. “Maybe I’ll run into you on the cliff.”

After a few seconds Court said, “Will you look at me?”

Zoya did turn, though she didn’t stop tying off pieces of the sheet. “So… the PRC? You are an assassin for the People’s Republic of China?”

“Of course not.”

“Right.”

“It’s cover, Zoya. The Agency needed intel on Fan, and they knew I was the one who could get it. I was contracted for this op in the first place because I had a relationship with Donald Fitzroy. He is—”

“I know who Donald Fitzroy is. When I saw him I realized you were not an Agency man, as you said; you were, exactly as you told Colonel Dai, a private operator.”

“I’ve had a long relationship with Fitzroy.”

“A relationship?”

“Look, I wasn’t lying before, but I wasn’t exactly letting you in on the whole truth. The truth is, I worked for the Agency for fourteen years. And then one day, I didn’t work for them anymore.”

She stopped tying the sheets, then slid them under the blanket to hide them in case one of Xi’s men came in. Looking at him, she asked, “Does that mean you quit, or does that mean you were let go?”

“Well… I didn’t exactly get a pink slip. They sent guys to kill me.”

Court could see Zoya looking hard at his face, searching for microexpressions that might give away honesty or deception. “Go on.”

“Kind of a long story, actually, but in those years when I wasn’t with Langley, I took odd jobs, working for different handlers in the private sector. Fitzroy was one of those employers.”

“Doing what, exactly?”

Court did not answer, so Zoya said, “Extrajudicial assassination?”

“Sometimes,” he said. And then he amended it with, “Well… yes, pretty much exclusively.”

There was no judgment from Zoya. No real expression of surprise, for that matter. After several seconds, she said, “I am going to ask you another question. It may be a difficult one for you to answer, but I need to know. Do you promise you will tell me the truth?”

Court leaned forward. “I swear it.”

Her eyes remained locked on his. “Are you the Gray Man?”