Battlefield 4: Countdown to War Read online

  43

  Tsu’s mouth stretched wide. His eyes lit up like a kid at Christmas and he let out a long hyena-like laugh that was like nothing Kovic had ever heard before. Eventually the laugh subsided.

  ‘Interesting choice.’

  Kovic said nothing. He gazed at the poor prisoner, who was trying to comprehend what had happened. Tsu took the empty Glock from him and pressed a button on the wall.

  ‘Amusing, but also very revealing.’

  Two more guards rushed in, then slid to a halt when they saw their dead comrade.

  ‘Your cover is absurd. I can tell that you are an American. You’re fatally compromised; you’ve allowed yourself to be infected by a naive sense of fair play, hence your siding with the victim, the little guy. You want to help the downtrodden, bring liberty and justice for all, blah, blah, blah. You’ve come to the wrong place. I don’t help the downtrodden; I help the powerful become more powerful.’

  Tsu was right; he had blown it. Kovic turned and faced him. There were many things he had done in the line of duty that he wasn’t proud of, that he would prefer to forget if his mind allowed it. He had bent and broken the rules and made up some of his own along the way. But he had never killed a defenceless man. He levelled his gaze at Tsu.

  ‘And you can shoot a man in the head when he’s lying wounded in the snow. What kind of “helping the powerful” is that?’

  Tsu snorted contemptuously, but when he looked at Kovic again the lofty disdain had faded from his face. The retort had hit home. He could see Tsu’s thoughts whirring.

  Well, Kovic thought to himself, at least I’ve got in front of the monster. But he knew the truth was he had fucked up.

  Outside, the courtyard was filled with the sound of another helicopter preparing to land. Floodlights came on and a landing crew moved into position. Tsu pressed the button. Two more guards rushed in.

  ‘Clear that away,’ he barked at them. ‘And take this one back to the cells as well.’ He picked up the gun he had given Kovic and smashed him across the face with the grip. ‘Have him prepared for questioning.’

  44

  ‘Qi, you clocking this?’

  There was no reply on the transmitter at first. Then Qi’s voice, low.

  ‘You okay? ’

  ‘Been better. I’ll be out of range for a while but try to stay online. You got eyes on the arrivals?’

  ‘Yeah, captured on camera, checking the IDs. Some VIP and his entourage. How are you going to get out of this? ’

  ‘No idea yet. If I don’t make it out, take everything you have to Huang Shuyi at the MSS. Record everything you can. Wu should recce the cable car, see if it’s viable for exfil.’

  Qi signed off .

  There was no point in alarming them and the last thing he wanted right now was rescuing. He wanted to see who had arrived on the helicopter, but just as the door was being opened, with two of Tsu’s henchmen in attendance, his head was twisted away from the view. All he caught was the gleam of the highly polished finish on the machine and a carpet being rolled out across the rain swept courtyard. A guard hustled him forward.

  ‘Hey, easy, okay?’

  The butt of the guard’s gun slammed into the side of his head and he blacked out.

  He came to, trying not to focus on the phrase ‘prepared for questioning’. He was in another cheerless, windowless room, again with one bare bulb for illumination. In the centre was a thick wooden pillar that looked like it had been part of the original structure. On it were several metal rings of the sort found in a stable. There was a metal band round both of his wrists that was attached to a chain that tethered him to the pillar.

  Alone in this dank cell, doubt began to gnaw at him. What had he achieved? He had risked the lives of three good men on this crazy mission. He had gotten access to his adversary’s hideout and come face to face with him. But that was it. Now he was powerless and about to be tortured by a sadistic killer. Self-doubt, an alien sensation he barely recognised, engulfed him. He cursed his own impetuousness. He remembered some comments of his instructors at the Farm. Too headstrong, can take things to extremes, drives too fast at obstacles, a reckless appetite for risk that needs to be reined in. It was all true, and he hadn’t changed. For all those reasons he was here now gambling with his life – and those of his crew – on an encounter with an adversary who would almost certainly destroy him.

  He thought of Cutler, his head propped up on his fingertips, shaking his head in dismay. Glad to be rid of him no doubt, relieved – even happy – in the misguided assumption that he had died in a fire.

  Then he thought again about the shootings on the border, remembered his promise to Garrison, and then thought, painfully, about Louise. What did he have left to live for? It was as if all his life he had been jumping into the fire, propelled by some death wish or an insatiable need to challenge himself, to live as close to the edge as he could. Only in Shanghai had he found a kind of peace – and now even that was gone, forever.

  His thoughts drifted on to Hannah. She had surprised him. He had detected something of the maverick in her, and the misfit, as if she knew her destiny lay somewhere other than in the MSS bureaucracy and was just looking for a good enough reason to rebel. She had believed him – against all odds, against her better judgement. She had staked her career on him. He had better not let her down. As he thought about her the sense of doubt and defeat began to dissolve. Perhaps he was not done yet.

  A low metal door opened and Tsu stepped through it. He had changed uniforms, from loose fatigues into a dark formal tunic. He was carrying a brandy glass. He held the door open and another figure came in. This man was older: fifty-something, bald, unusually tall for a Chinese. His whole bearing exuded authority. The brilliant-white uniform stood out in such dazzling contrast to the dank grime of the room it almost glowed. The sight of this figure in these surroundings was so strange and unexpected that for a few seconds Kovic didn’t register who it was. The naval dress was a giveaway, but it seemed hardly possible. As he came closer, there was no doubt – Admiral Chang Wei, Commander-in-Chief of the Chinese Navy. What the fuck was he doing with Tsu? The two men circled the pillar he was chained to, studying him as if he was an exhibit at a show.

  Eventually Tsu spoke, in Mandarin.

  ‘The one who escaped from the border: Kovic. The CIA claim he’s dead. Quite why he’s here is a mystery. Maybe we can – encourage him to tell us.’

  Chang came right up close and peered at Kovic. He smelled of aftershave and liquor. His voice was hard edged from decades of barking orders.

  ‘One less American running around our territory can only be a good thing. It was remiss of the bureaucrats in Beijing to have let so many of them in. How much does he know? Has he talked?’

  Tsu grinned.

  ‘I haven’t applied myself to that yet.’

  Chang turned to Kovic, addressing him in English.

  ‘Your people have polluted the minds of our young generation. Your values are not our values. Our spineless politicians have been seduced by your toys, let you off er the people Buicks for their bicycles, fooling them into thinking they were getting some fanciful idea of freedom by buying your goods.’

  He waited for some response from Kovic. None came.

  ‘Do you know how many people there are in China, Agent Kovic?’

  ‘One-point-three-four-three billion. Give or take.’

  ‘Good.’

  ‘If you don’t include Taiwan.’

  The Admiral’s face registered irritation at this perennial bone of contention, but he pressed on.

  ‘Four times that of the United States. And the average American consumes fifty times more of the earth’s resources than a Chinese. Imagine what would happen if we allowed every one of those Chinese to consume at the same rate. Your so-called values will kill our nation. I’m not going to let that happen. You’ve fooled our politicians into letting the capitalist genie out of the bottle. I’m going to put it back.’

&nbs
p; Kovic stared ahead, silent, trying to get to grips with what was happening right in front of him: one of China’s most powerful military men in league with its most notorious criminal. But he absorbed every one of Chang’s words. The pieces were slowly starting to come together.

  ‘Modern China was forged in the furnaces of sacrifice, and honourable toil – something America lost long ago. Now you seduce and corrupt us with your poison, of the body and the mind.’

  His voice was getting louder; this was his worldview, the mantra that drove him, and it told Kovic just what he had walked into. The border incident, the riots – it all amounted to nothing less than the preparations for a military coup engineered by Chang himself. This lunatic was planning to take over the biggest nation on earth.

  ‘Democracy is an illusion! A dream you use to sell refrigerators and French fries. The real rulers of your world are corporations, not your precious Congress.’

  Kovic felt he should show he was paying attention.

  ‘So you want to turn the clock back? That’ll be popular.’

  Chang’s reply started as little more than a whisper.

  ‘Agent Kovic, do you know how old our civilisation is? When your continent was still overrun by savages with feathers through their noses, China had invented gunpowder, the compass, the clock, the printing press. Before Western meddlers came and corrupted us with their opium, China had bestowed a good living on a fifth of the world’s population.’

  Tsu was nodding and grinning. He was enjoying his party. Kovic felt a lifetime’s worth of hatred and bitterness trained on him. Tsu addressed Chang in Mandarin.

  ‘Is there anything specific you’d like me to get from him? His career was completely compromised by the border incident. His bosses seem to have dispensed with him and he must be sore about that. I doubt there’s much there. The MSS regards him as low level.’

  Was this designed to provoke him into talking? And who had Tsu had got that from – Hannah or her bosses? How deep did his links to the MSS penetrate?

  Tsu glanced at Kovic and continued, slipping back into English.

  ‘He’s unimportant but quite slippery. He left his whore in his bed as a decoy so he could pretend to be dead and escape.’

  Kovic felt the tenuous hold he had on his anger break apart.

  ‘You mean your goons were too stupid to check under the bed-clothes before they shot and burned her.’

  Tsu brought his face up to his and pressed a finger under each of Kovic’s eyes, pushing into the sockets.

  ‘Be careful or I might give in to my natural tendencies.’

  The Admiral turned away, a look of disgust on his face, murmuring in Mandarin.

  ‘See what he has on Jin Jié and his associates – elements among the elite who support him. Then do what you want with him.’

  Tsu relaxed the pressure and Chang headed towards the door.

  ‘What’s your problem with Jin Jié? He seems pretty harmless to me.’

  Both men turned and looked at him, surprised by his grasp of the language. Chang’s response was full of venom.

  ‘Jin Jié represents everything that is sick and corrupt in this country. His so-called “progressive” ideology will destroy what’s left of our system. His weak will has allowed him to be seduced by the mirage of American superiority. He’s just another instrument of Western humiliation. It is time to turn back the clock, to bring order back to our society. America is a threat and must be treated as such. You are the enemy.’ Chang’s voice became shriller with each sentence until he was shouting into Kovic’s face, spraying him with his sulphurous saliva.

  He turned to Tsu.

  ‘Squeeze everything out of him and then post the remains back to the White House.’

  And with that, Chang strode out of the room.

  45

  Kovic opened his eyes but could see nothing. Had his eyes been gouged out as well? He had a vague memory of Tsu knocking him about the face after Chang had left the room. Every part of his body stung as if he had been attacked by a swarm of hornets. What had he told him? It was coming back. He had recited random names from his extensive knowledge of politburo apparatchiks until Tsu realised that they were just that – random names.

  ‘That’s the problem with torture, isn’t it, Tsu – you may get answers but how do you know they’re the truth? We know all about the pitfalls of torture. We spent thousands of hours chasing leads from rendered detainees who gave us the first thing that came into their heads to stop the pain.’

  Tsu hadn’t liked that answer much and Kovic expected not to make it to the end of the session. But apparently he was still alive.

  He felt his eyes. They seemed to be intact. He was just in complete darkness. Then with his fingers he explored the area around him. The rough rock surface was slimily damp. There was a foul smell of human waste. He tried to raise himself a little, but his head hit hard rock. He was in a crevice no more than thirty inches high, deep inside the mountain rock.

  Now it was all starting to make sense – in a mad kind of way. Chang was Tsu’s client. If Tsu was working for Chang when he killed the Americans on the border then Chang must have been the architect of the whole Highbeam set-up. He would have had the clout to get the North Koreans to cooperate. His aim must have been to disgrace the current Beijing administration for its collaboration with the US, and create the opportunity to foment anti-American feeling. But to what end? He had focused his hostility on Jin Jié, but he was just one man – influential, yes, but an outsider. Chang had talked grandly about putting the capitalist genie back in the bottle, turning the clock back. Then the border incident was just an appetiser for what he was cooking up. It was as if he wanted nothing less than a new cold war – or even a hot one.

  As he recovered his senses, Kovic realised he wasn’t alone. Someone, or something, was sharing his cell. He felt something nudge his hand. Something cold and soft: a rat? He moved it away. A minute later he felt the nudge again and a slurping sound. The sound was a word.

  ‘Here.’ The voice was no more than a lisping whisper. ‘Follow.’

  Kovic let his hand be nudged and didn’t move it away this time. He was pushing it in a direction where the floor met the wall. But he was at the extremity of what the chain attached to his wristband would allow. He forced his arm forward until the band cut into his flesh.

  ‘Feel – under.’

  There was a slot-like gap where the wall met the floor, no more than an inch wide, just enough for Kovic to insert his little finger. He felt something smooth, a blade.

  ‘I made – can’t use now.’

  Kovic withdrew it from its hiding place. It was no more than half an inch wide but a promising six inches long.

  ‘Hey, thanks. Who are you?’

  But there was no answer.

  Kovic slid the blade under his right cuff . Then he drifted back into unconsciousness.

  46

  Kovic came to again to find himself being pulled from his crevice by the chains attached to his wrists. He struggled to shield his eyes from the blinding torchlight coming from the two guards who were manhandling him. They tried to stand him up, but under his bare feet it felt as if the ground was covered in broken glass. As his eyes adjusted to the light, he looked down and saw that the soles of his feet were a bloody mass, and remembered Tsu beating them. Then they put a blindfold over his eyes and tied it fast and dragged him out into the open air.

  ‘Kovic. My God, what have they done to you? ’

  It was Qi. He must be looking right at him.

  He didn’t want to risk talking so he just nodded an acknowledgement, then moved his head around as if trying to focus after his time in the dark.

  ‘Okay, there’s twenty-plus in paramilitary kit, all carrying Uzis. Looks like they’re waiting to board the chopper.’

  Kovic nodded a response.

  ‘Something else you should know – all hell’s broken loose in Shanghai: eighty-plus killed by a bomb in People’s Square. No one knows
what the fuck’s going on.’

  The guards dragged Kovic further into the centre of the courtyard. He felt the sun on his back, so reckoned he was facing north. He tried to blank out the searing pain in the soles of his feet.

  ‘There’s a scaff olding on the north face of the perimeter wall, with a long plank of wood on top, which sticks way out over the edge. They put it up overnight, next to the steps.’

  Before Qi had worked it out, Kovic guessed.

  Oh, fuck.

  ‘Tsu?’ He said the name aloud, figuring the guards would assume he was asking them.

  ‘No sign. Wait! Some big doors opening on the south side. That’s him. Same para gear as the others. Coming towards you now.’

  They were outgunned as well as outnumbered. Even with what they had, Wu and Zhou would be no match for the guards with their Uzis. Kovic needed a Plan B but there wasn’t much time to dream one up. He knew this had been a suicide mission, so he deliberately hadn’t thought too much about the outcome. He wanted to find Tsu and he had. He wanted to confirm that it was he who killed his team on the border and who else was behind it, which he had. And now he was about to pay the price with a fast trip back down the mountain. With his fingertips he felt for the home-made blade in his sleeve. It was trapped behind the metal cuff on his wrist. He could feel Tsu’s breaths near him now, short, quick, excited. He addressed his men.

  ‘Before we embark, a little appetiser. And a reminder of what the consequences are if any of you arouse my displeasure.’

  Tsu whipped off the blindfold.

  ‘You smell disgusting.’

  ‘Guess that’s what happens when I get near you.’

  Tsu struck him across the face. A ring on his forefinger cut a furrow across his cheek and he felt the blood run.

  ‘Up the steps, you worthless piece of shit.’

  ‘That would be a whole lot easier if you hadn’t beaten the crap out of my feet.’