Private Beijing

Chapter 16

Zhang Daiyu’s uncle chivvied us back to the lobby, eager to beat the shift change. We were searched again and our belongings X-rayed before we were allowed out.

“What do you think?” she asked me as we crossed the perimeter road to the parking lot.

“He’s claiming innocence,” I replied, “which isn’t surprising. And he’s suggesting someone is out to get him. Someone with the power to put him in there.”

“He doesn’t trust us,” she observed.

“I don’t blame him. I wouldn’t trust anyone if I were in his shoes. Whether he’s innocent or guilty, one wrong word might get him killed.”

Zhang Daiyu nodded and we got in her SUV.

The heat had become stifling in the late-afternoon sun, and I was glad when she started the engine and the first breaths of ice-cold air-con hit me, soothing away the heat and humidity.

Zhang Daiyu drove us out of the parking lot and gave a cursory nod to the gate guard before we joined Huaichang Road, a large and busy highway that would take us out of the valley and back into the city. We sped through fields, past industrial estates and factories, into suburbs that grew denser the farther west we went.

“So what now?” she asked.

I never got to answer her question. Instead, when I looked over I saw something that froze my blood. A motorcycle had drawn alongside the driver’s side of the H6. Both rider and pillion passenger were in black helmets with opaque visors, and the second man was pointing a QCW-05 suppressed submachine gun directly at Zhang Daiyu. I had only had a split second in which to act.

I grabbed the steering wheel and jerked it right, hard.

“Down!” I yelled.

She cursed. She hadn’t seen the threat, and only looked left when I pushed the wheel that way in an attempt to side-swipe the bike.

Muzzle fire blinded us and there was a terrible rattling sound followed by the crack and crash of shattering glass. The bullets missed their target, flying in front of Zhang Daiyu before smashing the windscreen. My maneuver of turning toward the bike had startled the motorcyclist, causing him to go heavy on his brakes. It looked as if the two assassins had been left behind..

Zhang Daiyu cursed again and took the wheel, but she couldn’t see very well as the remnants of the shattered windscreen blocked her view.

I slid off my jacket, wrapped it around my arm and punched and swept away the cracked white glass, creating a hole through which we could both see the road ahead.

“Turn off here,” I said, gesturing to an exit ramp to our right.

I turned my head and saw the bike directly behind us.

She stamped on the brakes. As she followed up and spun the wheel, the rear window erupted under a burst of machine gunfire.

There was a cacophony of horn blasts and the screech of tires as we cut across another lane of traffic. Craning my neck around, I saw the bike follow. The pillion rider was reloading.

We shot onto Changcui Road, a broad street that cut through the surrounding residential area. We went east, passing beneath the highway, racing by low-rise apartment blocks and houses to either side of the street. There were vehicles parked the whole way along, and a few shops and restaurants at the base of the buildings flanking us, which drew crowds of diners. This was no place for a chase; too many lives would be put at risk.

“Stay close to the side of the street,” I said, signaling left. “And get ready to stop.”

I glanced back to see the man on the pillion raise his gun.

“Emergency stop... now!” I yelled, and Zhang Daiyu stepped on the brakes again.

The tires screamed as they bit into the road, and the motorcyclist had no choice but to swing right to try and avoid us. As the bike came past, I flung open my door and the bike tore it off. The collision had the desired effect, though, and the door became tangled beneath the bike’s wheels and frame and took it down. The CFMoto 650GT and its riders skidded along the road for thirty feet before hitting a parked truck.

I leapt out and started running to the machine gun that had been dropped halfway between us and the crashed bike. The dazed driver and pillion man struggled to get to their feet as they came to their senses. Then the gunman started sprinting toward the fallen weapon.

I had to beat him to it, I had to, or Zhang Daiyu and I were both dead.