Private Beijing

Chapter 47

Zhang Daiyu and I grabbed some zhajiang mian fried-sauce noodles from a stall near the hostel. We ate standing on the street not far from the grinning, wiry old man who kept up a steady trade serving his sweet-smelling bowls to the locals. I had never tasted anything so good in my life. Partly a consequence of hunger, but also a testament to the chef’s skill with the spices that went into the hot sauce covering the noodles.

“Good, right?” Zhang Daiyu remarked.

“I can’t tell you how good,” I replied.

She spent time on the phone, briefing Huang Hua, who was leading the surveillance effort on Liu Bao. We had a team of six operatives working in rolling shifts and Hua had put together an equipment package ready for installation that night. I didn’t care about the cost. I wanted the man who had targeted my organization and killed my colleagues.

After my call with Justine, Sci, and Mo-bot, Zhang Daiyu and I went to a local clothes shop and refreshed our wardrobes. I bought underwear, black jeans, and a gray T-shirt, and was dressed like many of our fellow residents in the hostel. The only thing missing was the ubiquitous blue worker’s jacket, but it was far too hot for outerwear. Zhang Daiyu was in a pair of black trousers and a red blouse, which she managed to make look like designer wear despite the fact it had been cheaper than our noodles.

“I want my own clothes,” she grumbled between mouthfuls. “I feel as though I’m in my mother’s wardrobe.”

“You look great.”

“Thank you, but you don’t have to be kind. I suppose I can’t go home until this is over?”

I nodded. “Seems that way. These guys are serious.”

Her phone rang and she pulled it from her pocket and answered rapidly before hanging up.

“Come on,” she said, hurrying back to the stall to hand her bowl to the vendor. “The surveillance team has spotted someone of interest visiting Liu’s office. A man with the triple dragon tattoo on his arm. If we hurry, we can support them. They don’t have the resources to watch Liu Bao and tail this new target.”

I nodded and handed my bowl to the chef, who smiled his thanks.

Thirty minutes later, after a cab ride, we reached the financial district and asked to be dropped off a few blocks from the building. We walked to Guangcheng Street, where we found Hua’s Private surveillance van parked in a multi-story between two office blocks. The van was on the roof of the building and had a partial view of Liu Bao’s eye-shaped headquarters.

Zhang Daiyu rapped on the side door and someone let us in. Hua was alone, monitoring a variety of screens.

“Good,” he said. “I think you’re in time. We haven’t seen him come out.”

“What are you running?” I asked.

“Six fixed cameras monitoring the entrances and exits, two operatives on the main entrance.”

“Good.”

“We haven’t been able to install anything inside, but we’ll fix that tonight.”

I was impressed. They’d managed to get up and running very quickly.

“We’ve tried directional mics, but they seem to have counter measures running,” he said. “A lot of corporates used counter surveillance to prevent industrial espionage. We’ll learn more when we get inside later.”

“Can you show us the guy?” I asked.

Hua nodded and took a seat on one of the stools in front of the main console. He gestured for Zhang Daiyu and me to sit next to him. I was grateful for the van’s independent cooling system, which kept the air conditioning running even with the engine off — essential for long field operations in the heat.

Hua scrolled through some video footage of the main entrance to Liu Bao’s building, which captured everyone entering and leaving.

“Where are the cameras?” I asked.

“Lamp posts. Bollards. Two button cameras on the agents,” he said, pausing the footage on a man in black slacks and a white shirt with rolled-up sleeves. “Zhang Daiyu told me about the tattoo so I thought this might be relevant.”

I nodded and studied the man on-screen. He had short hair and a gentle demeanor. He was slim and moved gracefully, a far cry from the criminals we had encountered so far, but he sported the same tattoo as them. The likeness of two small dragons curled around a much larger one was emblazoned on his left wrist.

“Recognize him?” I asked Zhang Daiyu.

She shook her head.

“He’s coming out,” Hua told us. “Should I re-task the agents who are watching the building?”

He gestured to a smaller monitor showing a live feed of the main entrance. The man with the intricate tattoo was walking out.

“No,” I replied. “Keep them on Liu Bao. Zhang Daiyu and I will take this guy.”