Wall of Night

61

Ten minutes after three, Xiang’s cell phone trilled. It was Kwei: “He just called.”

“Where is he?” Xiang asked.

“In the city somewhere, but he refused to say. He’ll be at the Liaobin ferry terminal at five.”

“We’ll find it,” Xiang said. “Is he expecting you?”

“No, I told him one of my people would be coming, a man named Lin. That way, you can—”

“Good thinking. If you hear from him again, call me immediately.”

“Of course.”

Xiang hung up and turned to Eng. “Liaobin, two hours.”

The ferry was halfway across Yinkou harbor when Xiang’s phone rang again. “Yes?”

It was Shen. “We have a problem. One of the trackers was walking his dog north of the station and he got a hit on Tanner’s scent.”

“What! How sure are they?”

“Very. The dogs went crazy. I think I know how he did it,” Shen said, then explained Tanner’s ruse. “We followed the trail for about a mile. He’s still headed northeast.”

Xiang paused, thinking. He’s been toying with us since he jumped off the damned train! He’s wasted our time, split our forces. … “Lieutenant, split your men into two trucks. I want one team to follow the rail line north, the other to stay on Tanner’s scent. Somewhere, the two are going to meet.”

“How do you know that?”

“He’s got over two hundred miles to go. He’s not going to run all of it. Get moving!”

Two hundred miles northeast of Xiang, Tanner was nervous. Whether from cynicism or a sixth sense, he couldn’t quash the feeling that things were going too smoothly. His luck had held out too long.

Upon jumping into the freight car, he’d found it loaded not with feather pillows, but stacks of rotted railroad ties. Though the ride had been far from comfortable, he’d fallen quickly asleep inside the makeshift cave he’d created in the car’s bottom corner, and dozed intermittently, watching the sky and listening to the train’s wheels thump over the joints.

Once past the incline by the lake, the train had steadily picked up speed as it began a winding course north and east through the towns of Zhangwu, Baojiatun, Jinjiazhen. Shortly after his call to Kwei, he passed out of Liaoning Province and into Jilin.

According to his map, the camp was 250 miles away.

Xiang’s hind landed in a small clearing south of the lake. A truck drove him the half mile to the rail line where Shen was waiting. Despite the late afternoon sunshine, Xiang could feel a chill in the air. He pulled his coat tighter around him.

“The trail ends here,” Shen reported. “He must have laid in the grass here — probably guessing the train would have to slow on the incline — and jumped aboard as it passed.”

“Could he have walked the rails? Can the dogs track scent on steel?”

The dog handler nodded. “Yes, sir. Not as well, but they can. There’s been no rain, no wind to speak of. … If he’d done that, the dogs would have caught it.”

“Then he’s aboard another train,” Xiang said. He turned to Eng. “Call the Fuxin station. I want a complete map and schedule of every route north of Xinqiu.” Then to Shen: “Lieutenant, you, twelve of your best men, and the dog teams come with me. Eng will arrange transport for the rest.”

“Where’re we going?”

“We’re flying straight up this line and stopping every train we come across.”

Sixteen miles north of Changchun, Tanner’s luck ran out.

Sunset was less than thirty minutes away when he heard the distant beating of helicopter rotors. He closed his eyes and strained to listen, hoping against hope the sound would fade into the distance. It didn’t. Coming closer, he thought. From the south. He climbed to the top of the car and peeked out.

Three hundred yards behind, sunlight glinting off its cockpit, a Hind helicopter raced toward the caboose. Briggs ducked as it swept overhead. The Hind drew alongside the locomotive, then banked hard, circling and descending over me tracks. The whistle blared. The train lurched forward, slowing.

Tanner didn’t have time to think. He ran forward, leaping from tie to tie until he reached the front of the car, then slipped over the side and down the access ladder into the caboose buffer.

He leaned out, looked ahead. Wind whipped his face. A half mile ahead of the locomotive, the Hind had come to rest across the tracks, its rotors still spinning. The train was slowing rapidly and great billows of steam drifted back along the cars.

Tanner jumped. He landed hard on his shoulder and hip, then found his feet and tried to stand. White-hot pain shot through his feet, into his legs, and up his back. He collapsed. Instinctively, he knew what was wrong. Stupid! Lying still for hours inside the top-loader, his muscles had stiffened.

He dropped to his belly and looked around. Bordering the tracks was a field of waist-high millet. This early in the season, it was still green and tender, and would betray his passage as clearly as a neon arrow. But there was nowhere else to go.

Down the tracks, the Hind’s side door opened and soldier’s began leaping out, followed by a pair of dog handlers. The dogs tugged on their leashes and barked. The cockpit door opened and out stepped Xiang; he talked with one of the soldiers, who turned and began barking orders.

Time to go, Briggs.

Jaw clenched against the pain, he crawled up the embankment and onto the tracks so the caboose would temporarily shield him from the soldiers. He forced himself upright and started running.

“Half your men take the right side, the other the left,” Xiang ordered Shen. “One dog handler per team. I want a sentry posted on each car. If he jumped off, the dogs will find his scent; if he’s still aboard, we’ll search it car by car.”

In the end, it was the dogs themselves that bought him the time he needed.

Shaken and disoriented from the helicopter ride, the dogs spent ten minutes running around in circles before the handlers were able to bring them under control. By the time they started moving down the tracks, Tanner was a mile away, his body limbering with every stride.

Every few seconds he would glance over his shoulder, and when he saw the first soldier appear alongside the train, he dropped onto his belly and crawled for the edge of the millet field, where he turned himself around and backed feet-first into the grass, closing the stalks behind. After ten yards of this, he raised himself into a crouch and started picking his way east.

Behind him, the sun was dropping toward the horizon.

Half a mile into the millet field, he heard the dogs start to howl, followed by excited shouts. He felt a ball of fear explode in his chest. He stood up and started sprinting with everything he had.

“He’s sticking to the rail line,” Shen told Xiang over the radio. “His scent is strong; the dogs have him. He can’t be far ahead.”

“Run him down!” Xiang said.

Fifteen minutes later: “He’s veered into the millet field. He’s heading east”

“Keep going,” Xiang ordered. “We’re going airborne.”

To his west, Tanner heard the roar of the hind’s engines spooling up, followed moments later by the thump of rotors heading in his direction. Outa time, outa time. …

He crashed through the edge of the field and found himself standing at a junction of two dirt roads. He stood rooted, panting hard, heart in his throat. Twilight had fully fallen now, with only a few tinges of orange sunlight showing to the west Behind him, the barking had changed into a series of long, overlapping wails. Then voices, shouting in Mandarin: This way … hurry!

Tanner looked left, right. Decide, Briggs! Do something!

Beyond the road stood a line of fir and through them he caught a glimpse of water. He felt a flood of relief. The ex-SEAL in him took oven Water is safety; head for the water. He sprinted across the road and through the trees and found himself at the edge of a muddy, fast flowing river. Head down, he dove in.

Sixty seconds behind him, Shen and the dog team emerged from the millet field. The dogs led them straight to the riverbank. Shen grabbed his radio.

“He’s in there,” Shen reported when Xiang arrived. “He couldn’t have been more than a few minutes ahead of us. I’ve got my men spreading out along this bank, but we need to cover the other side. The current’s running fast, so we need to hurry.

“Split your men; the helicopter will ferry them across.”

Shen nodded, then passed the order to Sergeant Hjiu, who ran off.

“Where does this river lead?” Xiang asked.

Shen pulled out his map. “Southeast for ten miles. This could be a problem. … It splits into three tributaries just north of this lake. If he makes it that far, we’ll have triple the shore to cover.”

Xiang studied the map. On the lake’s shoreline were four towns, each with a population of twenty thousand or more. Shen was right: they had to find Tanner before he reached the tributaries, and certainly before he reached the lake. If he made it that far he could disappear into one of the cities.

“Eng, how long before the rest of Shen’s company arrives from Xinqiu?”

“Within the hour.”

“Good. Until then, we’ll use the Hind and patrol the river.”

“Yes, sir.” Eng ran off.

Xiang walked to the bank. He knelt and dipped his fingers into the water. It was cold. That was good. The more miserable Tanner became, the sooner he would try to get out.