The Trail to Buddha's Mirror - Don Winslow [144]
Peng said, “Comrade Secretary, it is not for me to question your instructions, but merely to carry them out.”
Xao’s smile had the warmth of a dagger.
“Even so, accept my gratitude.”
“Humbly, Comrade Secretary.”
Xao turned to Simms. “You will inform your superiors that the problem of Mr. Pendleton is resolved?”
“They will be most grateful.”
Jesus, thought Simms, can we cut the Oriental bullshit and get out of here?
“What about Carey?” Simms asked. “It would be awkward to bring him back to the States.”
“A reckless young man,” Xao answered. “Prone to the sort of rash behavior that leads to accidents. This is a dangerous mountain, particularly on the stretch known as the Elephant’s Saddle. Careless hikers have been known to slip and fall, especially if they were foolish enough to attempt to traverse it at night.”
“But I am afraid I have little choice, Secretary Xao. I wonder if I could borrow a flashlight?”
“Of course. Xiao Wu and my driver will escort you. Mr. Peng will stay here for the night. We have much to discuss.”
Xao smiled pleasantly at Peng. So pleasantly that Peng wasn’t looking forward to the conversation. Xao stood up and offered his hand to Simms.
“Thank you for all your help,” he said.
“Don’t mention it.”
They both laughed at his joke.
Wu sat with Neal at the pavilion near the summit. Neal’s hands were tied behind him. In the three hours since Pendleton’s murder and Li’s suicide he hadn’t uttered a sound, just stared into the distance.
Simms came up, stood in front of Neal, and then kicked him in the ribs. Neal toppled over on his face.
“That’s for the swim in the river,” Simms said.
The driver picked Neal up gently and lifted him to his feet.
“You like to walk, Neal,” said Simms. “We’re going for a walk.”
Simms held a large flashlight in one hand. So did the driver.
The soldier led the way. Simms pushed Neal in behind the soldier, and Wu brought up the rear. They trudged slowly down the Buddha’s Ladder as the driver carefully pointed out the trail with his flashlight. They reached the bottom and started along the Elephant’s Saddle.
“You want to be real careful, Neal, so you don’t slip and fall.”
Neal heard the words with intense relief. They were going to kill him after all.
They’d walked for a couple more minutes when he heard Simms say, “I guess this will do.”
Neal waited for the push. Neal wanted the push.
“Cocksucker.”
Neal turned and saw Wu kick Simms’s feet out from under him. Simms tottered on the edge for a long moment, flailing his arms as he tried to regain his balance. Then he tumbled into the darkness. His scream echoed in the night.
Then the driver lifted Neal into his arms.
21
Robert Pendleton squatted in the muck of the rice paddy for a moment and came up with a beaker full of mud. He held it up to the light, swished it around, and looked at it carefully.
“It’s the nitrogen content that’s crucial, as you know.”
Zhu smiled and nodded.
“We’ll take this back to the lab and see what’s what,” Pendleton said. He waded up to the dike, shook the mud off his shoes, and looked around him. Dwaizhou’s broad paddies and fields shone green and fertile in the morning sun. He inhaled the fecund scent of the rice crop, so different from the sterile smell of the corporate laboratory, so much richer.
AgriTech, he remembered, had always bragged that it was “where the action is.” No, he thought, this is where the action is.
And what would the boys in the office say if they could see me now? In my green Mao suit, little Mao cap, and rubber sandals? They probably wouldn’t give me a tee time on the company course.
Gee.
He decided to stop off at home for lunch, handed Old Zhu the beaker, and said he’d meet him at their makeshift lab later. The lab was actually pretty good. Nothing like AgriTech, but still pretty decent, all things considered, and he’d given Xao a shopping list to fill as time, money, and secrecy allowed.
Pendleton walked along the dike, then along the road past the rabbit wood to his plain, tin-roofed, cinder-block dwelling on the brigade’s far edge.