Authors: J. Robert Kennedy
“Forward!”
yelled Dawson.
Ping
complied, but followed it with an “are you crazy?” look as the car surged
toward the tank. Laura glanced through the rear window and saw a delivery truck
had just cut them off, blocking the alleyway. Looking forward, her heart
hammered faster with each meter they closed between them and the metal beast hell-bent
on destroying them.
“Get
ready to bail!” yelled Dawson, one hand already on the door handle. Laura slid
over to his side, and opened the door slightly. “Brake when I tell you, then
get out and start running away from the tank.”
Ping
nodded, saying nothing.
“Brake!”
yelled Dawson. The car jerked to a halt, sending Laura against the back of the
passenger seat. For a moment she was disoriented, but felt her door jerk open,
and a hand grab her. She stumbled from the car, then was pushed forward by
Dawson. “Keep running, don’t look back!”
But she
had to.
She
glanced over her shoulder and saw Ping at least a dozen paces behind her,
terror etched on her face, her eyes bulged with fear, and Dawson pulling the
Ambassador from the backseat and heaving him onto his shoulder in a fireman’s
carry. The alleyway compressed the sound, and the round belching from the
turret sent a shockwave toward them. She couldn’t tell if it hit them first, or
if the car they had just been in erupted into a fireball first, either way,
they were all thrown to the ground.
Dawson
was up first, pulling Laura to her feet. “Keep going!” he yelled as he picked
up the Ambassador. Laura grabbed Ping and ran toward the delivery truck, its driver
and the lumper standing, mouths agape, staring at what had just happened.
“Get out
of here!” yelled Laura, waving her hands to the sides, hoping they’d understand
to get out of the alley.
But they
just stood, frozen.
She
reached the driver first, and saw an open door to the left.
“Over
here!” she yelled, shoving the driver through the doorway, and diving inside
after him. Another round erupted from the tank, slamming into the delivery
truck, shoving it farther down the alleyway before it exploded.
A body
flew through the door, landing on the driver as Laura jumped to her feet.
Another followed, and just as the fireball roared toward them, she saw Dawson
pushing toward the door, obviously having taken time to save the innocent
bystander. She reached out and grabbed his outstretched hand, yanking him
inside, providing that little bit of extra momentum that allowed him to clear
the threshold just as the fireball exploded through the open doorway. She
slammed the steel door shut, and the roar instantly dulled as they all tried to
catch their breath.
Dawson
let go of her hand and jumped to his feet, pulling everyone else to theirs and
collecting the Ambassador. “Let’s get out of here.”
Ping
asked something in Chinese, and the men pointed deeper into the building. She
replied with her hands, urging them forward.
She
didn’t have to urge hard.
They ran
fast, dodging between boxes stacked to the ceiling, and through a dizzying
number of doors and small rooms, but with each step they were farther from the
tank, and Laura began to relax. A little.
And
suddenly they were outside, the fresh cool nighttime air a relief compared to
the claustrophobic thickness inside.
“We need
to get somewhere public, and get the Ambassador to a hospital,” said Dawson.
Ping
pointed to their right. “One block, Tiananmen Square,” she said. Dawson nodded.
“Let’s go!”
They
broke into a sprint, and the two men ran with them, probably not entirely
certain as to why. One of them pulled out a cellphone, which Ping immediately
grabbed. They ran past an alley and Laura caught a glimpse of the tank pursuing
them, already rushing toward the street they were now on.
“We’re
gonna have company!” she yelled as they suddenly burst onto a large boulevard
filled with a steady stream of nighttime traffic, but to Laura’s dismay, there
was almost no pedestrian traffic to mingle with.
The
screeching of treads behind them added a new sense of urgency to their
situation as they looked about for somewhere to hide.
Oh
James, I wish you were here!
En Route to US Embassy, Beijing, China
Nothing much had been said since the breakout. Acton was still in
shock from the knowledge he was about to be executed, and with the further
knowledge that he was now an escaped fugitive.
In
China.
They had
to make it to the embassy so that at least he would be protected, and then
negotiations could begin for the charges to be dropped. Clearly something was
going on that none of them knew anything about. The death penalty for trying to
help? He could understand being arrested and questioned, then released. He
could even understand deportation. But sentenced to death, with the execution
to be carried out within twelve hours of the arrest?
To him
it sounded Iranian, not Chinese.
If he
weren’t paranoid—which after everything that had happened to him over the past
couple of years it was a miracle he wasn’t—he’d think he was being targeted for
some reason. But no one could have known he would be where he was, so that
couldn’t be it.
But if
he had injected himself into the middle of something he wasn’t supposed to,
perhaps that’s why he was being targeted. But then why did they take Laura?
And who
were
they
?
They
couldn’t be the authorities. The authorities already had him.
They
had to be the people at Tiananmen. And those people were well equipped. He
recognized the sound of a sniper rifle, and those weren’t easy to come by. It
was as if they were being targeted by—
“Holy
shit!” he exclaimed.
“What?”
asked Spock, looking in the rearview mirror.
“Do you
guys have any intel on what’s going on?”
Spock
said nothing. Neither did Jimmy or Niner.
“Come
on, I’m in the loop now.”
Spock
looked at Niner who sat in the passenger seat and nodded.
Niner
turned back.
“Okay,
here’s the dealio. Over the past two weeks foreign tourists have been murdered,
most by sniper rounds, with anti-foreigner propaganda leaflets thrown about.
Today they targeted our ambassador, and that’s what you stumbled upon. We were
called in to do a security assessment, and had warned against taking the exact
route he took, because he takes the same goddamned route every effin’ day.”
“Take a
breath, dude!” urged Jimmy.
“Sorry,
Doc, but it just pisses me off when politicians ignore perfectly sound advice,
then get themselves up shit’s creek. Then it’s guys like us that have to go and
rescue their asses, or die trying.”
A phone
rang and Spock fished it from his pocket, handing it to Niner. Niner flipped it
open.
“Green
here.”
His
eyebrows shot up and his eyes widened as a smile spread across his face.
“BD!
Where the hell are you?” he asked as he put the phone on speaker.
“We’re
pinned down near Tiananmen.”
Spock
jerked the wheel to the left, pulling a one-eighty with no warning.
“Pinned
down?”
“Yeah,
by a tank.”
“Are you
messin’ with me?”
“I wish
I were. I’ve got Professor Palmer with me, a local cop who was kidnapped with
us, along with our ambassador and two innocent bystanders. The Ambassador’s badly
wounded. Won’t make it if we don’t get some real cover and a chance to dress
his wound.”
“We’re
on our way, ETA…”
“Ten
minutes!” yelled Spock.
“You get
that?”
“Yup.
Listen, they arrested me with both professors. I don’t know where Professor
Acton is—”
“I’m
right here, Sergeant Major. Tell Laura I’m okay.”
“Good to
hear your voice, Professor. Spock, get your asses over here but be careful.
Something big is going on and I’m not sure what. There’s a lot of heavy
equipment involved. If I didn’t know better, I’d say we’re in the middle of a
coup d’état.”
There
was silence in the car at these words and they all exchanged glances, and the
concern in the eyes of these men made Acton all the more scared.
“Understood,
Bravo One. We’ll be there ASAP. I assume you can be reached at this call
display number?”
“Confirmed.
Contact us when you arrive.”
Niner
flipped the phone closed and looked at Spock.
“Should
we notify the embassy?”
Spock
nodded. “Give them a sit rep, and tell them to expect a contingent of US
citizens coming in hot.”
Niner
nodded and began to dial the phone.
Acton
leaned back in his seat and looked out the window and gasped.
“What
the hell is that?” he asked as they rounded a corner.
On the
opposite side of the road was a column of tanks, armored personnel carriers and
troop transports, racing in the opposite direction.
“What
are those markings?” asked Jimmy, leaning over Acton’s lap.
Acton
looked, but they appeared to merely be a solid gold, oddly reminiscent of the
background of the Qing Dynasty flag, but without the blue dragon emblazoned
across it so boldly.
“Regimental
colors?”
“Doubt
it,” replied Niner. “Those usually have symbols of some type. That’s a solid
color. I’d guess it’s meant to distinguish them from other units.”
Acton
frowned, looking at the armor as it roared by.
“I have
a feeling your Sergeant Major’s hunch is right. We’re in the middle of a coup.”
North-East Corner, Tiananmen Square, Beijing, China
The sense of déjà vu was almost eerie. With the exception of there
being no natural light, she was in nearly the exact same spot as earlier today,
only the characters had changed. She, Dawson, Ping, the Ambassador and the two
Chinese delivery men were huddled behind a large planter. Across the square,
instead of a white van, was a tank. But for some reason it hadn’t fired; it was
merely holding its position.
Ping was
furiously texting, and had been since Dawson had relinquished the commandeered
phone. Dawson was now lying flat on the ground, peering around the side of the
planter at the tank across the square.
“If he
decides to fire, we’re dead,” he said matter-of-factly.
Laura
thought of James, and how he had rushed off to try and save the Ambassador
earlier, and how he was now rushing to try and save her this very minute. Her
heart was tight in her chest as she realized what Dawson said was so true. Just
one shot from that tank and they would be finished. It wasn’t like the horror
she had gone through earlier when she watched the snipers try to chip away at
the planter her beloved had hid behind, the only thing saving him the large
amount of soil it contained. If it had merely been concrete, it would have
split in two with the first shot, and James would have been exposed.
But
tonight, soil or no soil, that tank’s round would slice through the planter
like brie. And right now she could think of nothing to do about it.
She tied
off the tourniquet she had made from the Ambassador’s tie, having cleaned the
wound as best she could with the water Ping had managed to keep carrying, and
wrapped it with a bandage from the med kit contained in the pillow case, but
the wound was deep, and still seeping blood. The Ambassador was weak, and could
barely speak.
He
won’t make it if we can’t get him to a hospital soon.
“Okay,
here’s the plan,” said Dawson, shuffling over to them. “Right now that turret
is pointing down the street, perpendicular to us. The tank’s at zero degrees
from us, like a compass. We’re at one-eighty, the turret’s pointed at ninety. The
moment he starts to aim at us, you two”—he pointed at the delivery men—“go that
way”—he pointed to their left—“since that will give you the best chance at
surviving. Just keep running until you’re out of sight, and lay low. They don’t
know who you are and aren’t looking for you.”
Laura
had to smile to herself that his thoughts were to protect the innocent
bystanders first. He looked at her after Ping had finished translating.
“Professor,
you and the Inspector head this way”—he pointed at a forty-five degree offset
from the deliverymen’s escape route. “Get behind those cars, then keep moving
down the street as best you can. Watch for the tank in case he repositions. If
he does, switch to the other side of the cars. Keep retreating until you can
get out of sight, then try to make your way to the US Embassy. Hail a cab or
something. Just get the hell out of here.”
“What
about you?”
“I’ll
follow you with the Ambassador, but we’ll be slower. I don’t want us holding
you up.”
“That’s
bollocks, Sergeant Major. I’m not leaving you behind.”
Dawson
gave her half a smile. “You and Professor Acton were made for each other,” he
said, shaking his head. “Listen, there’s nothing you can do. I have to carry
him alone, and you can’t provide cover fire, since it’s a tank we’re dealing
with. My duty is to you and the Ambassador. He’s an American citizen, and
you’re the citizen of an ally. This is my job, let me do it.”
She
realized he was right. There
was
nothing she’d be able to do. The best
thing she could do would be to take care of herself so he wouldn’t have to
worry about her.
“You’re
right, of course, Sergeant Major.”
He
seemed relieved to hear her say that, and he shuffled to get a look.
“Something’s
happening.”
Laura
looked up and her heart sank. Two columns of tanks were roaring toward them on
either side of the boulevard they had just crossed. Cars were slamming their
brakes on, swerving to avoid the armor that advanced like a juggernaut, what
they hit and who were in their way of no concern. Several vehicles tried to
reverse out of their path, and she winced as one car, a Jaguar convertible, its
top down so its occupants could enjoy the evening air, stalled out as its
driver panicked. She sighed as they managed to jump clear of the vehicle moments
before the column of tanks rolled over it as if it were nothing more than a tin
can.