The Trail to Buddha's Mirror - Don Winslow [108]
But why have they brought me here? Why go to all that trouble and then bring me here where I can see her? And where is Doctor Bob? Why did Li Lan shake me off this afternoon? Was I supposed to see her and not see her? How do I resolve that contradiction? What the hell do they want?
Make up your mind, guys, he thought.
No, not “mind” … minds.
Yeah.
He picked up Random and worked on it for an hour before crashing into sleep.
Peng squeezed the trigger. The pellet smacked into the paper target with a satisfying thwack. Along with the fishing pool, the BB gun range was his favorite part of visiting Dwaizhou. He had gotten the key from Zhu, opened up the big room, and liberated some beer and cigarettes from the locker. There were, after all, privileges that came with his high position and heavy responsibilities. He shot again, and the pellet hit the silhouette target right in the forehead.
“Good shot,” the American said.
“If only you had shot as well,” Peng observed.
The American shrugged.
Peng couldn’t help rubbing it in. He didn’t like the American, and the American had been drinking heavily.
“You missed,” Peng said. “You shot at the wrong man, and then you missed.”
“It could happen to anybody.”
“But it didn’t. It happened to you.”
The American took a long pull on the bottle of beer.
“It won’t happen again,” he said. He raised the pellet gun to his hip and casually pulled the trigger. The pellet hit the target between the eyes. So did the next four shots.
“Let us hope you get the opportunity,” Peng said.
“That’s your job.”
And a good thing, Peng thought. The plan was working beautifully. Carey had spotted China Doll and had not so much as blinked. The same could not be said for her; her eyes had widened and her breath had caught. She could not have been more obvious, and Peng would have arrested her on the spot if he hadn’t had bigger plans.
She will run, now that she has seen Carey. Run like a rabbit, right to the burrow, to hide from the Carey dog. Well, you may have seen the dog, but you missed the fox. And you will lead me right to your lover, the great scientist, the great expert.
Xao will go, too, of course. The great romantic will not be able to resist. Then I will bag you all. Rightists, capitalists … traitors.
He squeezed off another shot.
Xao Xiyang put out his cigarette in the overflowing ashtray and answered the phone.
“Yes?” he said. It was his driver.
“Your foreign guest had a good day.”
“Did he have any complaints?”
“If he did, he didn’t say a word.”
“Perhaps you can take him to see the Buddha tomorrow.” There was a silence, a hesitation. Xao lit another cigarette.
“So you do not wish to change Mr. Frazier’s itinerary?”
“Not at all.”
“As you wish, sir.” The driver hung up.
It is not as I wish, Xao thought. It is what I must do.
The smoke tasted bitter in his mouth.
17
Neal Carey looked up at Buddha.
Buddha didn’t look back. Buddha just sat there and gazed serenely across the water and ignored Neal entirely. Buddha was 231 feet tall and made of stone. Buddha was carved from a red rock cliff that rose straight up from the broad Min River.
Neal was standing on Buddha’s big toe. So were Wu, Peng, and a couple of PLA soldiers. There was plenty of room.
“Pretty big Buddha,” Neal said stupidly.
“It is the biggest sitting Buddha in the world,” Wu said.
“A relic of the superstitious past,” Peng said.
“Where’s Mao’s statue?” Neal asked. “Upriver? Next to the Gang of Four montage?”
Neal was back on his Piss Off Peng Program. Peng had whipped him out of Dwaizhou