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Authors: J. Robert Kennedy

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BOOK: Flags of Sin
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And now
he was through.

A
staging area was to his right, and he could see hundreds of People’s Armed
Police assembling in riot gear. Whatever was going on at Tiananmen had been
deemed unacceptable, and the rapid response team set up after the 1989 incident
was moving in.

But
what could she mean? Trapped?

Trapped
by who? By what?

As he
sped toward the square, he could see thousands jumping around and dancing,
others sitting, and more arriving, the security cordon obviously not completely
in place.

Please
don’t let my daughter be here!

He
couldn’t believe the idiocy of these kids. Didn’t they know what happened the
last time something like this occurred?

But they
didn’t.

It was a
stain on the regime’s history that had been washed away with the fire hose of
censorship, like the hoses used to clear away the blood of those crushed under
the treads of the tanks as they roared toward the square. These kids weren’t
alive when it happened, or if they were, they were still in diapers. They would
never hear about it at school, never hear about it on the censored Internet,
and their parents would never tell them about it, for fear they might repeat it
to their friends, and it would get back to the authorities.

If
you
can’t
learn your history, then whose fault
is it when you repeat it?

He
pulled his phone from his pocket and dialed home. He sighed when his wife
answered quickly.

“Where
are you?” she asked groggily. “I fell asleep waiting for you.”

“There’s
a problem. Is Juan there?”

“No. She
went to some party with her friends, said she’d be back a little after
midnight.”

Li
sighed. A party was fine. A party meant someone’s apartment most likely, with
he hoped adult supervision. But at this point he didn’t care. As long as she
wasn’t anywhere near here. But midnight?

We
need to set an earlier curfew.

He
pulled to a stop on the boulevard north of the square, the crowd less than a
hundred meters away.

“Where’s
the party?”

“Tiananmen.
Some dance was being organized or something.”

Li’s
heart froze as his world closed in around him.

Juan!

 

 

 

 

North-East Corner, Tiananmen Square, Beijing, China

 

“Now what?”

Dawson
looked across the square, filled with revelers, their five minute flash mobs
having converged, the time limit now ignored. It was turning into an impromptu
gathering in defiance of the authorities, everyone naively in such a good mood,
they must have figured themselves invulnerable.

Kids
always think they’re immortal.

“That’s
not one of mine,” said Ping as she peered over the planter. Hundreds more were
arriving from Mao’s tomb, but this group carried gold flags, some on poles,
some held over their heads, others wrapped over their shoulders.

But they
all had them.

“That’s
the same flag as on the tanks,” observed Laura.

“What
did you say it represented?”

“I’m
assuming the Qing Dynasty. They were the last of the emperors. I saw the full flag,
with the blue dragon, hanging on the wall in an office as we were escaping their
HQ.”

“So,
what? Somebody’s trying to reestablish the dynasty?”

Laura shrugged.

“It’s
been almost a hundred years since they were in power. It doesn’t make any
sense. More likely someone is using it as a cover. It’s been almost
romanticized today in Chinese popular culture, with many of their traditions
still carried on. It’s plausible that someone thinks a coup staged with the
Qing symbolism might succeed where yet another communist regime, under a
different dictator, might not.”

Dawson
looked back at the new arrivals who swarmed into the midst of the already
massive crowd, their flags fluttering above the throngs. Whatever was going on,
he knew it didn’t concern them. He had to get the Ambassador to safety.

“Okay,
let’s get out of here. Our friends’ departure doesn’t seem to have triggered
any reaction, so chances are they’ve given up on us.” He pointed at Laura then
Ping. “Next group, you two mix in, then get out as quickly as you can.”

“What
about you?” asked Laura.

“I’ll
take the Ambassador as originally planned. Hopefully the crowds will keep us
out of view.”

Laura
frowned. “I think you have a better chance if you and I carry him out, as if
he’s drunk or something, rather than a fireman’s carry.”

Dawson
shook his head.
She’s determined to get herself killed.

“Absolutely
not.” He pointed at a group passing nearby. “Now go!”

Ping
jumped up, far too quickly for his liking, and rushed toward the group.

A
snapping sound rung out, followed by several screams. Dawson popped his head up
as another clap rang across the square, and more screams were heard.

And to
his horror, he saw bodies being thrown toward their position as snipers opened
fire across the square, trying to take out the police officer. He turned toward
her as she stood frozen in horror.

“Get
down!” he yelled, but it was too late. Her body jerked and was blasted
backward, her arms and legs dangling in the air as if she were a ragdoll,
finally coming to rest near the road they so desperately needed to get to.

They
know exactly where we are. But why aren’t they moving in to get us?

 

 

 

 

 

East Chang’an Street, North-East of Tiananmen Square, Beijing, China

 

“Start calling her and texting her now. Don’t stop until you hear
from her. Tell her she has to get out of Tiananmen Square immediately, the
police are moving in. Tell her anything you need to tell her, just get her out
of there!”

“You’re
scaring me, Dear, what’s happening?”

“There’s
no time to explain,” said Li as he climbed out of his car, his eyes now peering
into the crowd, desperately trying to find not only his partner, but his
daughter. “Just do it, and call me when it’s done.” Suddenly something occurred
to him. “Wait!”

“What?”

“Don’t
mention the square or police or anything. They might look at the messages later
and we don’t want them knowing she took part.”

“Took
part in what? You’re
really
scaring me!”

“I’m
scared too, Dear. Just get our baby home!”

He hung
up then quickly typed a text to his daughter.

This
is daddy. Go home now. You are in danger!

A
cracking sound followed by screams ripped across the square, followed by
several more. He peered into the throng and was almost sick as he saw the
crowds scattering, large pools of emptiness created as whatever they were
running from was abandoned.

And each
space contained several bodies, and even from his vantage point, he recognized
the damage from his previous crime scenes. Another shot slammed into the crowd,
and another area opened, and he immediately noticed the line formed across the
square. He followed it to its source, and gaped in horror at the line of tanks
and infantry on the other side.

What
is the PLA doing here? This is a police matter, not army!

The
sniper was obviously amongst the group of soldiers, but why was only one gunman
firing? He followed the widening gap through the square to see what the target
might be, and he gasped when he immediately recognized Ping, frozen in place.

“Get
down!” somebody yelled in English, and his eyes darted to the source to see the
American man and British woman that had been kidnapped earlier, then his eyes
snapped back to Ping as her body was tossed toward him like a doll on a string.

“No!” he
cried out, but he knew it was fruitless. She was dead. There was no way she
could survive that hit, not with the type of damage he had seen earlier.

Willing
his own frozen legs forward, he rushed across the street toward the square, and
dropped beside her body, momentarily forgetting the danger that lay on the
other side. He cradled her head in his hands and wiped the hair from her face.
Her eyes, the life draining out of them, stared back at him and a slight smile
emerged from the corners of her mouth, then nothing.

“Get
down!” yelled the voice again, and Li suddenly snapped back to reality, looking
across the square realizing there was now a clear line of sight between him and
the sniper on the other side. He placed Ping’s head back on the concrete and
jumped up, racing toward the concrete planter the foreigners were hiding behind
just as a shot echoed.

A sharp
pain in his side and he gasped, tumbling forward as he lost his balance. He hit
the ground hard and felt strong hands grab him by the shirt, yanking him across
the ground, but he knew it was too late.

He was
hit, and was dying.

Please
God let Juan get out of this!

 

 

 

 

 

Bo Yang’s Mobile Headquarters, Beijing, China

 

“Flash mob is in place, sir, but there’s something else going on.”

Bo Yang
didn’t like surprises. Not on this of all nights. He looked up at General Liang.

“What?

The General
shifted his feet.

“It
appears that several other flash mobs have convened in the square. Before us.”

Bo sat
back in his chair. He didn’t believe in coincidences. This had to be related
somehow to the events he currently orchestrated. Flash mobs never convened in
Tiananmen. The armed response would be swift and ruthless.

Which
was exactly what he was counting on.

But with
this added wrinkle, he had to think.

Does
it affect the plan?

“Any
intel?”

General
Liang seemed to ease slightly as he flipped open a file.

“Yes,
sir. It appears five flash mobs were called for, all around the same time, all
from the same mobile number.”

“Whose
phone?”

“We’re
tracing it now, should know shortly. They seem innocent enough. Crazy clothes,
crazy hats, pretend to be on a picnic. Seems like kids being kids.”

Bo shook
his head and jammed his finger onto the surface of his desk.

“Not on
this night, of all nights.” His mind raced. He knew the plan. Would it matter
if there were more in the square when it was executed? He looked at Liang,
decision made.

“Proceed
as planned.”

General
Liang snapped to attention, then hurried from the room.

If
there are thousands more, then so be it. More martyrs for the cause.

 

 

 

 

 

North-East Corner, Tiananmen Square, Beijing, China

 

“Is he okay?” asked Laura as Dawson, lying on his side, quickly
assessed their new arrival. She recognized him as one of the police officers
that had interviewed them, and arrested them, earlier.
Ping must have been
his partner!
She felt her chest tighten at the pain he must be going
through, losing his partner like that. She glanced over at the body, so close
yet so far, the widening pool of blood evidence if any were ever needed that
she was most certainly dead.

Why
is this happening?

A nice
vacation. That’s all she had wanted. To get away from it all. To get away from
the Triarii, the Vatican, the Pope, the Priests, the Imams, the Jihadists, the
ancient cults and the millennia old vendettas. She had thought long and hard of
where to go, and China had finally been chosen for the very control people
criticized. What had been happening to them just didn’t happen in China.

Or so
she thought.

Now here
they were in the middle of a coup d’état, people dying all around them, and
James only God knows where.

“He’ll
live,” pronounced Dawson. “He just got a sliver of concrete in his side from
when that shot hit the ground behind him.”

“Can you
take it out?” she asked, her journey of self-pity interrupted.

“Already
did and there’s hardly any bleeding, but he’s in shock. Keeps muttering
something.”

Laura
helped Dawson roll the officer onto his back, then fished some water from the
pillow case and held it to the man’s lips. The water dribbled down the sides of
his mouth at first, but then he began to come around and was quickly drinking
the water thirstily. His eyes fluttered then focused on Laura.

“Juan!”

Laura
smiled at him reassuringly, she hoped. “I’m sorry, I don’t speak Chinese.
You’re going to be okay. You were just hit by a piece of concrete. You’re going
to be fine.”

“Juan,”
he whispered, then suddenly shoved himself up on his elbows. “My daughter,
Juan, she’s in that crowd.”

Laura’s
hand darted to her mouth as her eyes filled with tears, and her head with a
prayer for the safety of a girl she knew nothing about.

 

 

 

 

Approaching Tiananmen Square, Beijing, China

 

The sound sent waves of fear tingling up and down Acton’s spine. The
whoosh of helicopter blades as they sliced through the air was unmistakable,
and never seemed to bring good news. Spock brought the car to a halt and they
all looked up.

“Jesus
Christ!” exclaimed Niner. “Somebody’s going to war!”

Acton
watched as at least a dozen heavily armed attack helicopters passed overhead.

“Where
are they going?” he asked, but he already knew the answer.

“They’re
heading straight for Tiananmen,” replied Niner as he dialed the phone. A moment
later he was giving a rapid update to Dawson. “Helicopters approaching your
position. You should see them any second. BD, you gotta get out of there, now!”

BOOK: Flags of Sin
2.56Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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