The Defector

CHAPTER TEN

It took a while for Nick to get full feeling back into his legs. He paced the afterdeck, breathing deeply of the fresh air, while Sheila followed his every move with her tiny automatic. Ling stood next to the woman. Even he had an old Army .45. Nick figured the time to be around noon. He watched as the two other crewmen hoisted their comrade through the hatch and tossed the body overboard. He smiled. The rats were out a good meal.

Then Nick turned to the woman. “I’d like to clean up and shave,” he said.

She had been watching him with a gleam in her cold emerald eyes. “Of course,” she said returning his smile. “Would you like something to eat?”

Nick nodded.

Ling said, “We kill,” in less than perfect English. There was hatred in his eyes.

Nick figured Ling didn’t like him much. He entered the cabin and poured water into the wash basin. The pair stood behind him, both guns aimed at his back. Hugo anilhelmina were on the table. The junk bobbed up and down as it headed up the river.

As Nick started to shave, Sheila said, “I suppose we should get the formalities over with. I am Sheila Kwan. My stupid-looking friend here is called Ling. You, of course, are the infamous Mr. Wilson. And what is your first name?”

“Chris,” Nick said. He kept his back to them while he shaved.

“Ah, yes. Friend of Professor Loo. But we both know that isn’t your real name, don’t we?”

“Do we?”

“It isn’t important. We’re going to have to kill you anyhow. You see, you’ve been a naughty boy, Chris. First Ossa, then the big one, and then Yong. And poor Ling here will never have the full use of his hand again. You’re a dangerous man, you know that?”

“We kill,” Ling said with feeling.

“Later, pet. Later.”

Nick asked, “Where did you learn to speak American like that?”

“You did notice,” Sheila said. “How nice. Yes, I was educated in the States. But I’ve been away for so long, I thought I had forgotten some of the phrases. Do they still say words like fabulous, and cool, and dig?”

Nick finished with the wash basin. He turned to face the pair and nodded. “West Coast, isn’t it?” he asked. “California?”

She smiled with amusement in her green eyes. “Very good!” she said.

Nick pressed it. “Wouldn’t be Berkeley, would it?” he asked.

Her smile broadened into a grin. “Excellent!” she said. “I can certainly see why they sent you. You’re sharp.” Her eves swept approvingly over him. “And very good to look at. It’s been a long time since I’ve had a big American man.”

Ling said, “We kill, we kill!”

Nick nodded toward the man. “Doesn’t he know anything else?”

In Chinese, Sheila told Ling to leave the cabin. He gave her a small argument, but when she told him it was an order, he reluctantly left. One of the crewmen set a bowl of hot rice on the table. Sheila gathered Hugo and Wilhelmina and handed them outside the cabin to Ling. Then she motioned Nick to sit down and eat.

As Nick ate he knew another question was about to be answered. Sheila sat on the bench on the opposite side of the table from him.

“What happened between you and John?” Nick asked.

She shrugged. The automatic was still pointed at him. “I guess you might say I wasn’t his type. I enjoyed college, absolutely loved American men. I slept around too much for him. He wanted someone more permanent. I guess he got what he wanted.”

“You mean Kathy?”

She nodded. “She’s more his type — quiet, reserved. I’ll bet she was a virgin when they got married. I’ll have to ask her.”

Nick asked, “How long did you go with him?”

“I don’t know, probably a month or two.”

“Long enough to learn that he was toying with the idea of the compound.”

She smiled again. “Well, I was sent there to get an education.”

Nick finished his rice and pushed the bowl away. He lit one of his gold-tipped cigarettes. Sheila took the one offered her, and as he was about to light her cigarette, he knocked the small automatic out of her hand. It slid off the end of the table and bounced on the deck. Nick reached over to pick it up but stopped before his hand touched it. Ling stood in the opening to the cabin with the .45 in his hand.

“I kill,” he said, cocking the hammer.

“No!” Sheila cried. “Not yet.” She moved quickly to stand between Nick and Ling. To Nick she said, “That wasn’t very bright, baby. You aren’t going to make us tie you up, are you?” She tossed Ling her small automatic and in Chinese told him to wait just outside the cabin. She promised him that very soon he would be allowed to kill Nick.

Ling, grunted and stepped out of sight.

Sheila stood in front of Nick smoothing her tight lavender shift. Her legs were slightly apart and the silk clung to her body as though it was wet. Nick knew now that she wore nothing under it. In a husky voice, she said, “I don’t want him to have you until I’m finished with you.” She cupped her hands just under her breasts. “I’m supposed to be pretty good.”

“I’ll just bet you are,” Nick said. “But what about your boy friend? He’s already eager enough to see me dead.”

Nick was standing against one of the bunks. Sheila moved close to him, pressing her body against his. He felt the fire building inside him.

“I can handle him,” she said in a husky whisper. She moved her hands under his shirt to his chest. “I haven’t been kissed by an American in a very long time.”

Nick pressed his lips to hers. He worked his mouth against hers. His hand went to her back, then slid slowly downward. She moved closer to him.

“How many others agents are working with you?” she whispered in his ear.

Nick kissed her neck, her throat. His hands moved up to her breast. “I didn’t hear the question,” he answered in an equally low whisper.

She stiffened and tried weakly to push herself away. Her breathing was heavy. “I… have to know,” she said.

Nick held her close. His hand moved under her shift, touching bare flesh. Slowly he started lifting the shift up.

“Later,” she said hoarsely. “You’ll tell me later after you find out how good I am.”

“We’ll see.” Nick laid her gently on the bed and finished removing the shift.

She was good, all right. Her body was blemish-free and thin-boned. She arched it against him and groaned in his ear. She writhed with him and pushed her firm, well-shaped breasts against his chest. And when she reached the pinnacle of satisfaction, she scratched her long fingernails along his back, almost raising herself off the bunk, her teeth biting the lobe of his ear. Then she fell limp under him, her eyes closed, her arms at her sides. As Nick was about to climb out of the bunk, Ling entered the cabin, his face red with rage.

He spoke not a word but went straight to his work. The .45 was aimed at Nick’s belly. He uttered profanity in Chinese at Nick.

Also in Chinese, Sheila ordered him from the cabin. She had come alive again and was pulling the shift over her head.

“What do you think I am?” Ling protested in his Cantonese dialect.

“You are what I say you are. You do not own or control me. Get out.”

“But with this… spy, this foreign agent.”

“Out!” she ordered. “Get out! I will tell you when you may kill him.”

Ling tightened his lips over his teeth and stomped out of the cabin.

Sheila looked at Nick, smiling slightly. She had a flush on her cheeks. Her emerald eyes still held the glaze of satisfaction. She smoothed the silk shift and straightened her hair.

Nick sat at the table and lit a cigarette. Sheila came to sit opposite him.

“I enjoyed that,” she said. “It’s a pity we have to kill you. I could easily get used to having you around. However, I can’t play games with you any longer. Again, how many agents are working with you?”

“None,” Nick answered. “I’m alone.”

Sheila smiled, shaking her head. “It’s hard to believe one man has done everything you have. But let’s say you’re telling the truth. What did you hope to accomplish by smuggling yourself aboard?”

The junk had ceased its bobbing. It was running over smooth water. Nick couldn’t see outside the cabin but he figured they were about to enter the small harbor at Whampoa or Huang-pu. They would pass big ships here. This was as far upriver as the big ships could go. He judged they were roughly twelve miles from Kwangchow.

“I’m waiting,” Sheila said.

Nick said, “You know why I smuggled aboard. I told you I’m working alone. If you don’t believe me, then don’t.”

“Surely you can’t expect me to believe your government would send one man to rescue John’s wife and boy.”

“You can believe what you will.” Nick wanted to be out on deck. He wanted to see where they were heading from Whampoa. “You think your boyfriend would shoot me if I tried to stretch my legs?”

Sheila tapped her fingernail against her front teeth. She was studying him. “Probably,” she said. “But I’ll go with you.” As he started to rise, she said, “You know, sweetheart, it would have been much more pleasant if you had answered my questions here. Once we get where we are going, it won’t be pleasant.”

The late-afternoon sun was ducking in and out from dark rain clouds as Nick went on deck. The two crewmen were forward checking the depth of the river. The ugly eye of Ling’s .45 followed Nick closely. He was on the rudder.

Nick went to the port side, flipped his cigarette into the river and watched the passing bank.

They were moving away from Whampoa and the big ships. They overtook small sampans loaded with families, the men sweating as they worked against the current. Nick figured at this pace it would take another full day to get to Kwangchow, if that was where they were heading. That would be tomorrow. And what was tomorrow? Sunday! He had slightly more than forty-eight hours to locate Kathy Loo and Mike and get them back to Hong Kong. That meant he’d have to cut this traveling time in half.

He felt Sheila standing next to him, tracing her fingers lightly along his arm. She had other plans for him. He glanced over at Ling. Ling had other plans for him, too. Things did not look good.

Sheila wrapped herself around his arm, working her breasts against it. “I’m bored,” she said softly. “Entertain me.”

The snout of Ling’s .45 followed Nick’s back as he walked with Sheila into the cabin. Once inside, Nick said, “Do you get some kind of kick out of torturing that guy?”

“Who? Ling?” She began unbuttoning his shirt. “He knows his place.” She ran her hands along the hair on his chest.

Nick said, “It wouldn’t take much for him to start firing that cannon of his.”

She looked up at him, smiled, ran a wet tongue over her lips. “Then you’d better do as I say.”

Nick figured he could take Ling if he had to. The two crewmen wouldn’t be much of a problem. But he still didn’t know where they were heading. It would be easier if he went along with this woman until they reached their destination.

“What do you want me to do?” he asked.

Sheila stood away from him until she had removed her shift. She untied the bun behind her head and let the hair fall around her shoulders. It reached almost to her waist. Then she unfastened his pants and let them fall to his ankles.

“Ling!” she called.

Ling immediately appeared in the entrance way to the cabin.

In Chinese, Sheila said, “Watch him. Perhaps you may learn something. But if he does not do exactly as I say, shoot him.”

Nick thought he saw the trace of a smile working on the corners of Ling’s mouth.

Sheila crossed to the bunk and sat on the edge, her legs apart. “On your knees, American,” she ordered.

The hair on the back of Nick’s neck bristled. Gritting his teeth, he sank to his knees.

“Now come to me, baby,” Sheila said.

If he swung to the left he could knock the gun out of Ling’s hand. But what then? He doubted if either of them would tell him where they were going, even if he tried to force it out of them. He had to go along with this woman.

“Ling!” Sheila said, threatening.

Ling took one step forward, the gun pointing at Nick’s head.

Nick started to crawl to the woman. He reached her and as he was doing what she ordered, he heard Ling chuckling softly.

Sheila’s breath came in short gasps. In Chinese, she said, “You see, Ling darling? You see what he is doing? He is getting me ready for you.” Then she lay back on the bunk. “Quickly, Ling,” she panted. “Tie him to the mast.”

With the gun, Ling waved Nick to the table. He gratefully obeyed. He sat on the table itself with his feet on the bench. He put his arms behind him around the mast. Ling put the .45 down and tied Nick’s hands together quickly and tightly.

“Hurry, darling,” Sheila cried. “I’m close.”

Ling placed the gun under the bunk and hurriedly undressed. Then he joined Sheila on the bunk.

Nick watched them with a bitter taste in his mouth. Ling went at it with the grim determination of a lumberjack chopping down a tree. If he enjoyed it he gave no sign. Sheila hugged him close to her breasts, whispering in his ear. The cabin darkened with the setting sun. Nick could smell moisture in the air. It was chilly. He wished he had his pants on.

When they were finished, they slept. Nick stayed awake until he heard one of the crewmen snoring on the afterdeck. The other was at the tiller working with the rudder. Nick could barely make him out through the cabin entrance. Even he nodded with sleep.

Nick dozed for maybe an hour. Then he heard Sheila waking Ling for another go. Ling groaned in protest but complied with the woman’s wishes. It took him longer than the first time, and when he was finished, he literally passed out. The cabin was enclosed in darkness now. Nick could only hear them. The junk bobbed its way upriver.

The dawn was hazy when Nick awoke again. He felt something fuzzy brushing his cheek. There was no feeling in his hands. The rope wound tightly around his wrists cut off the circulation, but there was feeling in other parts of his body. And he felt Sheila’s hand on him. Her long raven hair slid back and forth across his face.

“I was afraid I might have to wake up one of the crew,” she whispered when he had opened his eyes.

Nick remained silent. She looked like a little girl with her long hair cascading around her fragile-looking face. Her naked body was firm and well put together. But the hard green eyes would always give her away. She was a hard woman.

She stepped up on the table-bench and moved her breasts gently across his face. “You need a shave,” she said. “I wish I could untie you, but I don’t think Ling has the strength to hold the gun on you.”

With her hand on him and her breasts lightly touching his cheeks. Nick could not control the fire building inside him.

“That’s better,” she said, smiling. “This might be a little awkward with your hands tied like that, but we’ll manage, won’t we, darling?”

And despite himself, and his dislike for her, he did enjoy it. The woman was insatiable, but she knew men. She knew what they liked and she provided it.

When she was finished with him, she stood back and let her eyes sweep completely over him. Her tiny belly worked in and out with her heavy breathing. She brushed the hair out of her eyes and said, “I think I’m going to cry when we have to kill you.” Then she picked up the .45 and woke Ling. He rolled out of the bunk and stumbled behind her out of the cabin to the afterdeck.

They spent the entire morning out there, leaving Nick tied to the mast. From what Nick could see through the cabin entrance, they had entered the delta south of Kwangchow. The area was dotted with rice paddies and canals fingered off from the river. Sheila and Ling had a chart. They alternated between studying it and the starboard bank. They passed many junks and even more sampans. The sun was hazy and did little to warm the chill in the air.

The funk crossed the delta and started up one of the canals. Sheila seemed satisfied with the course and rolled the chart into a tube.

Nick was untied and allowed to button his shirt and put on his pants. He was given a bowl of rice and two bananas. All the time Ling kept the .45 on him. When he was finished, he went out to the afterdeck. Ling stayed two feet behind him. Nick spent the afternoon on the starboard side, smoking his cigarettes and watching the passing scenery. Every now and then he caught sight of a Chinese Regular soldier. He knew they were getting close. Sheila spent the afternoon sleeping in the cabin. Evidently she’d had all the sex she needed for one day.

The junk passed two villages filled with flimsy-looking bamboo huts. The inhabitants paid no attention as they passed. It was dusk when Nick began to notice more and more soldiers along the bank. They watched the junk with interest, as though they had been expecting it.

As it grew dark, Nick noticed lights up ahead. Sheila had joined them on deck. When they drew closer, Nick noticed the lights lined a dock. Soldiers seemed to be everywhere. It was another village, different from the others they had seen because this one had electric lights. From what Nick could see as they approached the dock, the bamboo huts were lighted by lanterns. Two electric bulbs were on each end of the dock, and a line of lights lighted the way between the huts.

Eager hands grabbed the thrown line as the junk came alongside the dock. The sail was dropped, the anchor cast. Sheila kept her little automatic on Nick while she ordered Ling to tie his hands behind him. A plank was set in place connecting the junk with the dock. Soldiers milled in the huts, a few stood around the dock watching. All of them were well armed. As Nick stepped off the junk, two soldiers fell in behind him. Sheila was talking to one of the other soldiers. With Ling ahead, the soldiers behind Nick pushed him slightly to get him moving. He started walking, following Ling.

As he moved under the row of lights, he noticed there were five huts, three on his left, two on his right. The string of lights running down the center seemed to be connected to a generator of some kind at the end of the huts. He could hear it running. The three huts on his left were filled with soldiers. The two on his right were dark and seemed empty. Three soldiers stood guard on the door of the second one. Could that be where Kathy Loo and the boy were? Nick kept it in mind. Of course, it could also be a decoy. They had been expecting him. He was marched past all the huts. It wasn’t until they actually got to the structure that Nick noticed it. It was beyond the huts and set apart, a low, boxy, concrete building. It would be hard to see in the darkness. Ling led him down seven cement steps to what looked like a steel door. Nick heard the generator almost directly behind him. Ling pulled a ring of keys from his pocket and unlocked the door. It creaked open, and the group entered the building. Nick could smell a musty, damp odor like decaying flesh. He was led down a narrow, unlit hallway. There were steel doors on both sides. Ling stopped in front of one of the doors. With another key from the ring, he unlocked the door. Nick’s hands were untied, and he was shoved into the cell. The door clanged shut behind him and he was in total darkness.