Wall of Night

30

Tanner slipped into the water and started out in a breaststroke, submerged except for the upper rim of his mask. He kept his eyes fixed on the Tija’s decks, watching the guards come and go. When he was fifty yards off the port beam, one of the guards stopped, leaned on the railing, and looked out.

Come on, keep walking …

After ten seconds, the guard turned and walked aft.

Tanner turned and circled the boat until he was on the bow, then started swimming in. He got as close as he dared on the surface, then took a breath, ducked under, and started kicking.

Slowly the white curve of Tija’s bow appeared out of the gloom. He stretched out his hands. Easy now, Briggs … Distances under water were exaggerated; similarly, sounds were amplified. Anything more than the lightest touch on the hull might draw unwanted attention. He felt the cold fiberglass under his fingertips, then kicked to the surface, snatched a quick breath, and dove again.

He arched his back and angled deeper, following the sweep of the keel. He pulled a chemlite off his belt and crushed it to life. He held the green glow against the keel and kept swimming aft.

Segung’s directions had been specific: twenty-five feet behind the forefoot, just off the centerline. He almost missed it, so well was the hatch set into the keel.

Segung had called it his “dump door.” On dicey smuggling runs, he explained, forbidden cargo was placed atop this hatch. If a customs official happened to get nosy, Segung would dump the cargo, then wait for nightfall and dive over the side to collect it.

Briggs tapped his knuckle against the hull. There were a few seconds of silence, then a responding tap. A crack of light appeared around the seam, then the hatch swung open. Tanner finned through until his fingers touched a metal grating. His head broke into the air.

Segung was kneeling on the catwalk above. “Welcome aboard,” he whispered. “Any trouble?”

“None. Give me a hand.”

Segung helped him onto the catwalk, then reached down, grabbed a knotted rope, and pulled the hatch shut. “Clever, yes?”

Tanner took off the rucksack and set it aside. “Very. Ever had to use it?”

“Once or twice.”

“How many guards aboard?”

“Four, all on deck. There is a shift change coming from the island at four.”

Tanner checked his watch; time was going to be tight. “How about Soong?” he said.

“He’s in the master cabin — forward companion way, last door on the port side.”

“There’s no one else aboard?”

“No,” replied Segung.

“Okay, wait here. I’ll be back in five minutes.”

“One moment. What about our arrangement? The other half of the money?”

“I told you: The other half when it’s done.”

“I would say we are done now. In a matter of minutes, you and your friend will be gone.”

“In a matter of minutes, my friend and I will be in the water, in the middle of the Java Sea with only a few hours before the Chinese seal off the island.”

“That’s your problem. I will take my money now, thank you.”

Tanner put an edge in his voice: “You’ll get your money. I gave my word, and I’ll keep it.”

Segung raised his hands, smiling sheepishly. “Of course, whatever you say. Go find your friend.”

Tanner climbed to the top of the ladder, slipped through the door, and eased it shut.

The passageway was dark. What little moonlight that filtered through the skylights was absorbed by the earth-toned carpeting and wood paneling.

Walking on flat feet, he moved into the salon: cream carpet, sectional sofas, and wide, convex windows lining both bulkheads. He dropped to his belly and crawled across the carpet to the companionway steps. Once at the bottom, he stopped and listened. Outside, the click of footsteps came and went. Voices murmured.

Last door, port side … As he neared the door, he could hear snoring. He could feel his heart pounding. A rivulet of sweat ran down his cheek; he wiped at it with his shoulder. He eased the door open and slipped through.

Fully-clothed, Han Soong lay in the fetal position on the bed’s coverlet, the unused pillows pushed into the corner. He was tiny, all bones and sinew, his skin a pasty white.

Why wasn’t he sleeping under the covers or with pillows? Tanner wondered. Then it struck him: There were no such amenities in the laogi. In that moment, Briggs knew in his gut that it was all true. Soong had been in prison for the last twelve years.

He knelt beside the bed and gently placed his hand over Soong’s mouth.

Soong’s eyes sprang open, but he didn’t move. He blinked his eyes a few times, and then they settled on Tanner’s face. “Han, it’s me. It’s Briggs. Nod if you recognize me.”

Soong nodded vigorously.

“I’m going to take my hand away. Don’t make a sound.”

Another nod. Tanner took his hand away.

“Briggs …” Soong whispered. “Heavens, Briggs, it’s you, it’s really you. What are you doing here? What is happening—”

“We’ll catch up later. Right now, I need you to come with me. Don’t ask any questions. Okay?”

“Yes, of course.”

As Soong put on his shoes he said, “I’m a little older man you remember me, eh?”

“We both are. You’re alive — that’s what counts.”

Soong patted Tanner’s face. “You’ve grown up. What are you now, thirty-eight?”

“Forty.”

“I see a few silver hairs here and there.”

Tanner smiled. “Don’t remind me. Okay, time to go.”

With Soong behind him, Tanner slipped out the door, up the steps, and into the salon. Once certain the way was clear, they crab-walked to the engine-room hatch. Tanner descended the ladder first, then helped Soong to the bottom.

Segung was waiting. “I was getting worried.”

“Everything’s fine,” Tanner said. “Segung, this is Han Soong.”

Soong gave him a bow, then shook his hand. “Thank you for your help.”

Tanner led Soong to the hatch, then sat down and began donning his fins.

“Briggs, what is going on?” asked Soong.

“I’m getting you out of here.”

“What?”

“I know I’m about a dozen years late, but better late than—”

“I can’t go with you.”

“What?”

“I can’t go, Briggs. They still have Lian; if I don’t go back, they’ll kill her.”

Another question answered. Thank God. “What happened to her? Where—”

“She’s alive. That’s all I know.”

“What about Miou?”

“Miou got pneumonia and died the first year. They refused to treat her.”

“I’m sorry, Han:”

“I can’t leave my child. She’s the only family I have left. I won’t abandon her.”

“We can still get her. Once you’re out, we’ll have leverage. They’ll release her.”

“No they won’t.”

“Then I’ll go back for her. Han, you have to come with me.”

“No, Briggs, I—”

“Enough!” Segung barked. “Both of you shut up.”

Tanner turned.

Segung was pointing a thirty-eight revolver at them. “General, you’re staying. Briggs, you’re leaving — but not the way you came in.”

Tanner stood up and stepped in front of Soong. “Why are you doing this?”

“For the reward, you idiot. I’ve just broken up a plot to kidnap the general.”

“Segung, they won’t buy it. Listen to me: They’ll arrest you, seize your boat, then—”

“I doubt that.”

“You’re making a mistake.”

“There’s a lesson in this for you: Never haggle with a man who holds your life in his hands.”

Tanner knew his plan had just gone to hell. Regardless of whether the Chinese believed Segung’s story, they’d whisk Soong back to Beijing and he would disappear into the laogi. There was only one way out of this. Briggs steeled himself for it.

“Segung, stick to our deal. There’s a bonus in it for you — ten thousand U.S.”

“And what am I supposed to do? Let you go and wait here for the money? I don’t think so.”

“I have the money here.”

“You’re lying. Where?”

Tanner reached down, picked up the rucksack, and extended it to Segung. “Here.”

“No,” Segung said. “Put it down and open it yourself. Slowly.”

As he knelt, Tanner took a casual lean forward. He opened the zipper, reached inside, and pulled out a money belt He showed it to Segung. “Ten thousand. It’s all yours.”

Segung barely heard him; his eyes were locked on the belt.

Tanner hefted the belt in his hands. “It’s a lot of money. What do you say? Do we have a deal?”

“Give it to me.”

“We have a deal?”

Segung nodded absently; his gun never wavered. “Of course, yes. Give it to me.”

Easing his foot forward, Tanner pushed the belt toward Segung’s right shoulder, the same side on which he held the gun. Instinctively Segung grabbed at it with his left hand. His torso followed the movement, pivoting left and drawing the gun along — across Tanner’s body and slightly off target

Even as Segung’s fingers touched the belt, Tanner was moving. Sidestepping left to clear the gun, he clamped his hand around Segung’s wrist — thumb pressed into the radial nerve — then lunged forward, jerking Segung off balance and jamming the revolver into the open rucksack. With a muffled cough, the revolver discharged into the blankets.

Before Segung could pull the trigger again, Tanner slapped his open palm hard across Segung’s windpipe. Stunned and off balance, Segung fell backward, his head striking the catwalk railing with a dull crunch. He slumped to the, deck.

Tanner knelt down and checked for a pulse; there was none. His skull was fractured.

“My lord, Briggs,” Soong murmured. “What did you just do?”

“I just got very lucky, that’s what. Wait here.”

Tanner picked up the revolver, scaled the ladder, and opened the hatch. He listened for thirty seconds, heard nothing, then climbed back down. Soong was sitting on the cat-walk, staring at Segung.

“Are you okay?” Briggs asked.

“It’s been a while, that’s all. Funny, no? All those years in the army, I never got used to it.”

“Me neither. It’s better that way.”

“It seemed easy enough for you just then.”

“That doesn’t mean I enjoyed it. Han, come with me please.”

“I told you, I can’t. Please understand.”

Tanner hesitated. “Then I’ll come back for both of you. Do you know anything about the prison? Anything that might help me find it?”

“No, I’m sorry. It would be very dangerous for you, Briggs. If they catch you—”

“I’ll figure something out. Just keep your bags packed.”

Soong smiled. “I will. What are you going to do about Segung?”

“He’ll have to disappear. When the guards can’t find him, they’ll wake you. You didn’t see or hear anything, understood? You never woke up.”

“Yes.”

“Let’s get you back to your cabin.” He helped Soong to his feet.

“Briggs, how long before you come?”

“As soon as I can.”

Soong placed a hand on his shoulder. “Make it very soon.”

“Why?”

“I want you to take a message back. You can reach the CIA, I assume?”

“Yes.”

“Give them this: Ming-Yau Ang and Night Wall.”

“That’s it? Nothing else?”

“They’ll figure it out,” Soong replied. “When they do, they’ll understand.”