Wall of Night

19

Fong bunked his eyes against the glare of Tanner’s flashlight. “Who are you?”

“You don’t remember me? Twelve years ago … Beijing?”

“No, I don’t. What do you want?”

“You’re sure? Ledger — General Han Soong was Treble; you were Genoa.”

Fong’s eyes widened. “You! They told me you were—”

“They were wrong,” Tanner said. “Not by much, but enough.”

Here’s the answer, Tanner thought. Twelve years of wondering what had gone wrong with Ledger, and here, huddled on the floor before him, was the answer: a frightened old man.

Briggs wanted to hate Fong, but instead he felt nothing. The why of it didn’t matter. Whatever the reason, whoever was to blame, he’d made a promise to Soong and his family, then failed them. He was alive and free and they were still in China, their lives draining away inside a laogi.

“How did you find me?” asked Fong.

“Three years and a lot of hard work,” Tanner lied. “You’re the last agent in the Ledger network. I’ve already visited the rest. Truth be told, I hadn’t expected to find you.”

“Last agent? What does that mean?”

“You’re going on a trip.”

“Where? What for—”

“Bear, give me the duct tape.”

They stood Fong up, had him bend forward slightly, then taped his wrists to his thighs.

“This is uncomfortable,” Fong whined.

“We’ll make you some hot cocoa later,” Tanner said, then pressed a piece of tape over his mouth. “Bear, tie up the two downstairs, stash one, and bring the other up here. We’ll make him a sleep-in for Fong.”

“Gotcha.”

Bear took two steps toward the door, then stopped. He tapped his ear and pointed downward: Noise. Briggs crept down the hall and peeked around the comer. On the first floor, a pair of guards were kneeling over the two he and Cahil had incapacitated. What they did next told Tanner much about their training: Instead of racing up the stairs to check on their charge, the two men backed slowly out the door and disappeared. Going to get reinforcements, Tanner thought.

He returned to the room, told Cahil what was happening, then knelt beside Fong. “Listen closely. You have two choices: You can cooperate and live to see this place again; or you can die here.”

Despite the threat, Tanner had no intention of killing Fong. Twelve years ago he’d been serving his country; now he was just an old man trying to live in peace and herd sheep.

Fong stared into Tanner’s eyes for a long five seconds, then nodded.

From the first floor Tanner heard the scuff of a shoe on wood, followed by murmured voices.

Hurrying now, Briggs climbed out the window onto the roof. The rain was falling heavily, and steam rose from the still-warm shingles. With a shove from inside, Fong came out the window, followed by Gahil.

Tanner crept to the edge of the roof. He handed Cahil the shotgun, then eased himself forward until he could peek over the eaves trough. He froze.

Directly below him a man crouched in the shadows along the wall.

Behind them, voices from Fong’s window.

Out of time, Briggs thought. He looked at Cahil and got a nod.

Tanner turned himself around so he was squatting backward over the edge, then dropped.

He landed in front of the crouching guard, who hesitated a half-second too long. Tanner clamped his hand over the guard’s mouth, drew back his leg, and slammed his knee squarely into the man’s solar plexus. The guard let out an explosive grunt and went slack. Tanner snatched up his rifle, a Norinco SKS-D.

Cahil and Fong, who Bear had lowered by his collar, were already on the ground and moving through the mist toward the garage. Tanner sprinted to a nearby bush and dropped to his belly. Nothing moved. To the west, he could see a hint of orange on the horizon. He waited until Bear and Fong were inside the garage, then followed.

From the cabin came the first shout of alarm. Voices called back in Chinese. Rusty though his Mandarin was, Tanner caught a few words: “Gone,” “Intruders,” and “Horses.”

In the garage, Bear was swinging open the doors. Fong lay in the backseat of the Range Rover. Tanner jumped into the driver’s seat, Cahil into the passenger seat. “I think we’ve worn out our welcome,” Bear said.

“You’re assuming we were welcome in the first place.”

Briggs turned the ignition, floored the gas pedal, and the Rover lurched forward.

From the left, two figures were running toward them, muzzles flashing. Bullets peppered the Rover’s rear quarter panel. Tanner spun the wheel hard, fishtailed, then accelerated, spewing a geyser of mud. The headlights swept over a gap in the trees. Tanner steered for it.

Bullets thunked into the Rover’s tailgate. The rear window shattered. Fong screamed.

“Whoa,” Cahil shouted. “Unfriendly!”

That answered one question for them: Whether Fong knew it or not, the guards were here not only for his protection, but for the Guoanbu’s as well: Rather than risk Fong’s capture, they were to ensure his silence.

Tanner called, “Bear, I think our passenger has something to say.”

Cahil reached back and peeled the tape from Fong’s mouth.

“—shooting at us! Don’t they know I’m in here?”

“They know,” Tanner said.

“Then why … oh … I see now.”

“I’m sure it’s nothing personal,” Cahil replied.

“I can never go back there again, you know.”

“Not necessarily,” Tanner replied. “Once we get out of this, I’ll explain.”

“If we get out of this, don’t you mean?”

“Think positively.”

The trees closed in around them until branches scraped the Rover’s sides. Mist swirled over the ground. Rain splattered the windshield. Tanner tightened his grip on the wheel. “Any company, Bear?”

Cahil leaned his head out the window. “Nope, I don’t see any — Whoa!”

Tanner saw headlights in the rearview mirror. They were a hundred yards back, but rapidly closing the distance. “I see them! I thought you disabled—”

“I did. Those aren’t truck headlights.”

Fong said, “They’re four-wheel ATVs.”

“What?” said Cahil. “From where?”

“There’s an old hay bin under the barn.”

“Oops,” Tanner said.

“The entrance is disguised,” Fong said. “You weren’t meant to find it.”

“I’ll say this much, your watchers are good.”

“Let us hope you’re better.”

Tanner floored the accelerator, opening the gap between them and the pursuers. As long as there were more straight-aways than curves, they might be able to lose the ATVs. He wasn’t confident, however. This high in the mountains, winding roads were more likely.

“Bear, how’s our—”

“Already on it,” Cahil called and began checking their weapons. “Seven rounds in the shotgun; Beretta’s got fourteen, SKS’s got a full magazine. What say I try to create a little gridlock?”

“Good idea. Hang on, there’s a corner coming up.”

Cahil climbed into the backseat, shoved Fong to the floor, and propped the SKS on the seat.

Tanner skidded around the corner, punched the accelerator for fifty yards, then braked hard and doused the headlights. Seconds later the lead ATV came around the corner. Cahil opened fire. The ATV swerved right, then left, then plunged into the trees along the road. Tanner floored the gas pedal and took off.

In seconds the Rover was back up to speed. Branches whipped past the windshield.

“Dawn’s coming,” Cahil said.

To the east the sun’s upper rim was rising over the mountains.

Tanner said, “We should only be about ten miles from the highway. If we can—”

“Briggs, watch it!” Cahil called.

Through the fog, the headlights picked out a tree lying across the road. Beyond it stood half a dozen horses and riders. Tanner slammed on the brakes. The Rover slewed broadside. He spun the wheel, straightened out, and the Rover shuddered to a stop.

“Your men?” Tanner asked Fong.

“Yes. They must have gone overland. There’s a game trail that parallels the road.”

“Now what?” Cahil muttered.

“Now,” Tanner said, jamming the shift lever into reverse, “we take the road less traveled.”

The Rover lurched backward, the transmission whining as they picked up speed. Behind them, the three remaining ATVs skidded around the corner. “Briggs … ”

“I see them.”

Tanner spun the wheel, slammed on the brakes.

“What do you think, Bear?” Tanner said, pointing through the windshield at a gap in the trees. Mostly overgrown with brush, the trail sloped away from the road and disappeared. “Wide enough?”

Fong shouted, “No, wait! It—”

“Pretty steep,” Cahil said. “But, given the alternative … ”

“My thoughts exactly,” Tanner replied.

He slammed the Rover into gear, aimed the hood for the gap, and floored the accelerator.