"Van Lustbader, Eric - Jake Maroc 02 Shan(eng)" - читать интересную книгу автора (Van Lustbader Eric)
"Our trump card," Jake said. "As you have told me, Kam Sang may very well end up being the salvation of China."
Now the Jian shuddered visibly. "Kam Sang was always a two-edged sword. We all knew that going in. In any project of this sort the potential for destruction exists. However, at the time, we felt that the risk was worth taking. We felt that we had built in adequate controls and safeguards." He took a deep breath. "But now everything has changed."
In the deathly silence, Jake could hear the plashing of the waves as if they were rows of crystal smashing. "What has happened at Kam Sang, father?" He could not recognize his own voice; his rapid pulse made his ears ring.
Zilin looked out to sea, beyond the surf and the small junks lifted high on the ocean's crests as they tacked for shore. "A discovery has been made by the scientific cadre there," he said softly. "A frightening, terrible discovery. It was accidental. They came upon it by chance during their experiments." His head swung around and his dark gaze impaled Jake. "It threatens-Jake, it threatens the entire balance of power here; in the entire world. Kam Sang's possibility for destruction is now virtually limitless. The destructive potential is so heinous that you must ensure that it can never be implemented. Sane men-of all nationalities-would shun it. But there are others-" He broke off abruptly, shivered slightly, and turned his face into the wan light. "The Russians would gladly kill for the secret of Kam Sang. So would the Americans and the British. But you, Jake . . . you are its sole guardian now."
He placed the jade fu in Jake's hand and said, "Though this jade has been near you and near me, yet is it still cool. Jade is always cool, unlike men, who grow heated with passions and lusts. That is a lesson to be learned."
Zilin placed his hand atop Jake's so that the jade linked them. "There is a saying, Jake," he said, "older than the Tao: 'On the mountain it is dark and cold, but without these discomforts there would be nothing.
He moved his legs in the surf. "That is where you are now-on the mountain. You must begin to feel the dark and the cold. Without giving them substance you will be lost; you will feel only fear for the rest of your life."
Jake felt the sand beneath him, felt the salt wind on his cheeks. Somewhere he heard the sound of children's laughter, a dog's yelp of joy. Most of all, he felt the weight, cool and curved, of the jade fu. Father, he wanted to say, when I learn your lesson will it make me all-powerful, or just inhuman?
But sitting on the beach at Repulse Bay, next to the Jian, the creator, he made no comment at all. He merely waited for his father to explain to him what had occurred at Kam Sang-and to explain how the world was now a different and infinitely more dangerous place.
Jin Kanzhe was in Qianmen, just south of Beijing's Tienanmen Square, in among a warren of tiny side streets filled with food- shops and vendors' stalls. He wore a putty-colored trench coat, belted and epauleted, the hem reaching to the ground. It made him seem even taller and slimmer than he was.
Behind Jin Kanzhe a torrent of bicycles shot along the main streets, the heavy cold damping down almost all sound so that their passing was eerily silent. The smell of coal dust turned the air to molasses.
Jin saw the stocky man outside the carpet shop and approached him. "Good morning, Comrade. And how is our lizi, our deadly little plum?"
Colonel Hu sucked on his teeth. "Our lizi is as well as can be expected," he said.
As always, Colonel Hu was uncomfortable around Jin. His features, rough-hewn, undistinguished, were a far cry from the narrow elegance of Jin Kanzhe's.
"The mission concerning the girl went well?" he asked. They moved slowly through the throngs of shoppers; Jin Kanzhe liked to be in motion.
"There was no undue difficulty," Colonel Hu said. Jin concentrated on a tonal shading he did not recognize. "The strategy you proposed was the correct one. They are used to being sought out near the rivers. It has been the established way for years. We found Cheng and the girl on the mountainside; we caught them asleep." Colonel Hu shrugged. "Still I lost two men; one more is in a coma. These are resourceful people."
Jin Kanzhe wondered whether it was a note of respect he detected in Colonel Hu's voice. "We used every precaution and still they were able to counterattack."
"It was a pity about her escort," Jin Kanzhe said. "I would have preferred to put him under articulated interrogation."
"Cheng?" Colonel Hu shrugged. "He died a soldier's death. He took a bullet through the heart."
Jin Kanzhe snorted. " 'A soldier's death.' You give it a romantic ring. There is nothing romantic about death."
Colonel Hu said nothing. They turned right as they came to the end of the block. They were in an area adjacent to the railway station. As they walked, they passed a line of traditional apothecaries, their narrow interiors lined with dusty glass cases stocked with deer antlers, ground tiger's teeth, ginseng root and all manner of fungi.
Jin Kanzhe nodded, dismissing the subject. "It is the girl who concerns us, after all. We have Wu Aiping to thank for detecting her presence among the Steel Tiger Triad. His almost pathological interest in the Shis led him to track down, before his death, her identity and whereabouts. This was the legacy left for his friend, Huaishan Han."
"He led us to the girl?"
"There is a good chance," Colonel Hu said slowly, "that what you are asking me to do to her will change her in a very basic manner."
Yes, Jin Kanzhe said to himself; yes. She is like some mythical creature. All men who look upon her face are captivated by her. He stopped, turned to face Colonel Hu. "I must tell you something in no uncertain terms. This is so critical that neither of us can afford to misunderstand the other." He was silent for a moment, allowing his intense gaze to register on the other man.
After a time, Colonel Hu nodded. "Yes, sir." For the first time, he understood the true nature of his discomfort around this man. I am afraid of him, Colonel Hu thought, with some surprise. Jin Kanzhe knows how desirable the lizi is. Has she so profoundly affected me- her captor? Is Jin Kanzhe making a shrewd guess? What troubled Hu most was that he himself did not know the answer.
"Good, Comrade Colonel. Zheige lizi hai mei shu ne. This plum is not yet ripe. But that doesn't mean that she is not dangerous. On the contrary. She is exceptionally deadly." Jin Kanzhe abruptly began to walk again and Colonel Hu, taken unawares, was obliged to hurry to catch up.
"You have a point," Colonel Hu said. "However, I must confess that I am unsure whether you are aware of just how deadly I have made her."
Jin Kanzhe turned his head. The oblique light flashed off his eyes, as if energy was pouring out of him. "Tell me, Comrade Colonel," he said, "have you ever been to sea?"
Colonel Hu was puzzled. "No, sir. The truth is, the water makes me seasick."
Jin Kanzhe laughed. "Yes. That seems to be the case for many of our countrymen. However, there is a nautical term that you should take to heart when it comes to our lizi, our unripe fruit. She is like a beautiful sloop. With her one may come to feel that anything is possible. Therefore, beware of sailing too close to the wind, Comrade Colonel. Otherwise you may find yourself drowned." He glanced at his watch. "I am late."
Colonel Hu knew a dismissal when he heard one. He watched Jin Kanzhe stride off. In a moment the tall man was swallowed up in the swirl of pedestrian and bicycle traffic that ran like an endless river through Qianmen.
Ian McKenna was out with his police unit quelling a disturbance in Stanley when he was handed the briefcase. One moment he was directing three of his men in beating back a phalanx of jabbering Chinese so intent on getting through the doors of the closing Hongkong & Bangkok Trust Bank that they had flung aside the sawhorses McKenna's men had erected, the next a nondescript Chinese had placed something in his free hand. At six-foot-three, McKenna was easy to spot.
For a moment McKenna was not even aware of what had happened. He was intent on parting a Chinese from his teeth, swinging his burnished teak walking stick over his head and bringing it down with a crunch he believed to be one of the most satisfying sounds in the world.
Then, as the blood began to flow and he was about to step over the prone Chinese, he became aware of the added weight. He turned his head, saw the briefcase and the nondescript Chinese at the same moment.
"Inspector Ian McKenna, this is for you."
"Hey!" he called. "Hey, you!" But it was already too late, the figure melted into the riot of color and motion that surged all around him.
McKenna was known as Great Pool of Piddle by all the Chinese who came into contact with him-and this included those who served under him-but never to his face, only when they were among their own, speaking in their native tongue. McKenna was a fire-haired Australian who spoke Cantonese and a smattering of the Hakka dialect with an atrocious accent. He had served his apprenticeship in police work in the Outback down under before emigrating to Hong Kong ten years before. He was made a corporal in the Crown Colony's police force and by a combination of a rough-hewn guile and an often violent force of will, worked himself up to the rank of captain.
He possessed the animal's innate ability to go for the jugular when confronting his enemies. This trait caused him to be feared by almost as many of his superiors as those who toiled in his command.
But there were others who did not fear Ian McKenna. Among them was Formidable Sung, the 489 of Hong Kong's largest Cantonese Triad, the 14K. It was Formidable Sung who, failing to strike a bargain with McKenna, had discovered the Australian's weakness. Photographs had been obtained of McKenna and an eleven-year-old Chinese boy in poses of such extreme intimacy that the public exposure of same would spell not only instant dismissal for McKenna but more than likely criminal prosecution.
Now twice a week McKenna reported the details of his pending workload directly to Formidable Sung; in a break with tradition, it had been the 489 himself who had handed McKenna the sheaf of photographic prints sealed in a glossy crimson envelope.
The symbolic gesture-such a red envelope was traditionally given to a defeated business rival along with a token sum of money in order for him to keep some semblance of face-had not been lost on the Australian. He would never forget the moment Formidable Sung placed the thing in his hand. Each sound, each smell, and above all the laughing glitter in the 489's eyes, were indelibly etched into McKenna's brain. He would not forget such an insult, for Formidable Sung-by coming himself to the rendezvous, and by staring openly into his face when he slit open the envelope-had left McKenna with no face at all.
Now, as the men in McKenna's command beat back the last of the Would-be rioters, McKenna wondered what new indignity the dragon of the 14K was foisting upon him. His face was red, and not from the exertion of wading through a bunch of hysterical heathens.
McKenna blew his whistle, calling his men back to the wagon that had brought them from the station house. He stared down at the unconscious Chinese and spat heavily into his broken face. What he really wanted to do was spit into Formidable Sung's face.
He turned, stomping back to the police wagon, thinking, One day I'll do just that. Then I'll watch ft is face turn red. A pox on him and all his accursed Triad.
McKenna did not open the briefcase until he had returned to the precinct. Even then he did not trust the operation to his office. Instead, he went down the musty-smelling hall to the evil-smelling men's room. One grimy window was painted shut. The black desiccated bodies of flies lay on the rotting sill. Above, one of their brothers, still alive, beat itself feebly against the painted glass. There was just enough sunlight filtering in to give it a false sense of hope.
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