The Beijing conspiracy

CHAPTER 75

T he drive to Qingdao in the Province of Shandong, nearly 800 kilometres to the south-east of Beijing took a full day, but al-Falid wasn’t concerned. He’d insisted on a very early start and his driver handled the chaotic traffic around Beijing with ease. Clearing the thick smog of the capital they travelled south-east across the vast flat areas of the North China plain where for centuries the peasants had grown wheat, cotton and maize. They reached Huang He, the great Yellow River, at midday and shortly afterwards, the city of Ji’nan, the province capital. To the south-east, the sacred Taishan Mountain rose majestically, and further south lay Qufu, the birthplace of Confucius. After a short break and fried dumplings at a roadside stall near the main railway station, they turned due east towards the bustling port of Qingdao.

It was after dark by the time they wound their way down into the foothills of Lao Shan, an ancient Taoist mountain 40 kilometres to the east of the port. Kadeer had been right, al-Falid mused, as the driver veered off onto a track that eventually led through a thick pine forest. A bear farm would be the last place authorities would be checking for terrorist activity.

The next morning, al-Falid rose early and went for a walk to explore his surroundings. The 2-hectare compound was situated on the side of Lao Shan and hidden from view. The sleeping quarters were in a low, dirty building at the top of the slope. Pines ran all the way to the bottom far corner of the property where the bear compound was surrounded by an earthen wall. The site had once been an ammunition bunker when the Germans had occupied Qingdao at the time of the Boxer Rebellion. Now it was the site of even more unimaginable suffering for the gentle moon bears, imprisoned in cages in which they could neither stand nor sit, their bile ducts kept permanently and painfully open.

In the far left-hand corner of the compound another dirty building housed the administration block. Most of the staff were Han Chinese workers, including the farm manager, Peng Yu, a short, cruel and thoroughly corrupt Han peasant who’d been around bear farms since he’d left school at the age of ten. Today the staff had been given the day off and the accommodation had been taken over by ten of Kadeer’s best men who had been entrusted with organising the teams that would be trained to distribute the lethal Ebolapox into airconditioning systems in dozens of key buildings in Beijing. They were yet to be vaccinated. This would be done as soon as the vaccines arrived along with the deadly vials of Ebolapox.

‘I trust you sleep well, Mr ’Flid,’ Peng Yu said in broken English as he met al-Falid in the compound outside the accommodation block.

‘Thank you. When was the last time we sent General Ho some bear bile?’ al-Falid asked.

‘Not for while. You want more?’ al-Falid nodded. ‘Make sure the driver has a package on ice before we leave tomorrow morning. He can deliver it personally. And make sure it’s from a young bear.’

Peng Yu headed off towards the stinking compound where the bears had been imprisoned for years. He unlocked the store at the back of the compound, retrieved a blunt knife and a catheter and headed back into the main area where nearly fifty bears were in cages. Oblivious to the deep groaning of the older bears, Peng Yu hooked a thin rope around the youngest bear’s front and rear legs, pulling them through the cage, and tied the rope off.

‘This is a typical airconditioning system,’ al-Falid explained to the young Uighur men he’d gathered around a large table at the back of the accommodation block. ‘The substance will come in vials like this,’ he said, holding up a vial of pink-coloured water. ‘Our people need to be trained to gain access to the airconditioning ducts in their particular building. You will be given a number of dates on which you can strike and apart from the airport, which day you choose is not important,’ he said, looking at the cell leader for Beijing’s Capitol International. ‘The airport is to be struck over three successive days at the start of the Games, for maximum effect.’ Suddenly the training session was interrupted by the high-pitched squealing of the young moon bear, his agonised cries carrying up the hill as Peng Yu attacked the bear’s stomach with the blunt knife.