Chapter Fifteen

 

 

Behind Mr. Chu’s Dragon Den

Chinatown, London, England

 

The hatchback fishtailed as it rocketed out of the parking lot. It almost crashed into a van coming from the other direction. Ying twisted the steering wheel and drove out of the way of the honking van, which zoomed through so close it tore off the car’s side mirror.

Justin was not prepared for Ying’s maneuvering. He was thrown against the door, and his head hit the glass. He clenched his fingers around the door’s handle and leaned back on the seat.

Ying stepped on the gas and drew very near to the truck in front of her. Then she turned the wheel to the right and overtook the truck, cutting into the oncoming lane to do so.

“Watch the taxi,” Carrie said.

“Got it,” Ying replied in a calm voice.

She flattened the gas pedal. The car slid in front of the truck—whose driver had slowed down—then Ying yanked at the wheel, bringing their car back onto the lane. The black taxi zipped through the lane, barely missing the hatchback’s side.

Justin looked over his shoulder, then said, “You can slow down. No one’s behind us.”

“Yet,” Ying said. “But they’ll chase us down and kill us.”

“If we don’t kill ourselves first.”

Justin turned to the waitress, who was shivering and sobbing in her corner. “You’ll be okay; you’ll be alright.” Then he said to Ying, “Let’s drop her off. There, around that corner.” He pointed to his right.

Ying nodded. “Sure.” She switched to Chinese and spoke rapidly to the waitress.

At first, she shook her head, but, as Ying continued hammering out her words, the waitress started to nod and seemed to relax.

As they reached the corner, Justin placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “Hide for a couple of days, if you can.”

“Yes, yes, okay,” she replied in a weak, wavering voice.

The waitress got out of the car and disappeared into a narrow alley.

Ying stepped on the gas again. The hatchback drifted as it rounded another corner, then she turned the steering wheel to avoid crashing into a red double-decker city bus.

Justin shook his head. “Ying, you can calm down now. We’ve lost them.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure,” Ying said in a worried tone. “They’re still behind us. I feel it.”

Justin frowned. “How ... do you know the attackers?”

Ying hesitated for a moment, then said, “Yes. I recognized the man at the entrance.”

“And he’s MSS?” Carrie said.

“Used to be until two years ago, when he was thrown out for suspicion of wrongdoing.”

“Can you be more specific?”

“Sure. Weapons smuggling.”

“And let me guess: He has ties to Lim?”

Ying nodded. “Unfortunately, it is so.”

“Then the attack makes sense,” Carrie said. “They know we’re looking for Lim, so they came looking for us.”

“They must have followed me.” Ying’s voice rang with true disappointment. “I ... I’m so stupid.”

“No, that happens to everyone,” Justin said.

“Don’t be too hard on yourself,” Carrie said.

Ying nodded, then turned the wheel. They were now driving on Shaftesbury Avenue and heading south. She glanced up at the rearview mirror, adjusted it for a moment, then cursed out loud. “There they are.”

“Who?” Justin asked and turned around.

“The shooters. The silver Audi.”

“Really? I didn’t notice them earlier.”

“Perhaps you didn’t look hard enough.”

Justin ignored Ying’s scolding tone. He peered at the Audi approaching fast. His hand went to his pistol.

Ying turned onto Great Windmill Street. She honked to clear the street of a couple of pedestrians, then drove around a white utility van.

Justin looked over his shoulder as the Audi also turned behind them. That’s not a coincidence. “You’re right,” he said and pulled out his Sig. “They’re getting close.”

“I’ll lose them.” Ying stepped on the gas.

The car rocketed through the street. When she came to the intersection, Ying tapped on the brakes, then swung the steering wheel. The maneuver was just enough to avoid side-swiping a red double-decker. “These buses; they’re everywhere,” Ying shouted.

She slammed her fist on the horn, but the silver SUV in front of them did not pick up speed. Ying tried to go around it, but the SUV’s driver had the same idea. “Oh, come on,” Ying said and cursed the driver.

Justin shifted in his seat just as the Audi came crashing into the back of the hatchback. The trunk’s cover popped up as the glass shattered. Justin held his pistol close to his face but did not fire. He did not have a clear shot. Moreover, the pursuers were not a real threat yet.

Ying pulled at the steering wheel and drove on the sidewalk. She kept one hand on the horn, while she steered with the other. The right corner of the hood scraped against two red phone booths, shattering their glass. She swerved to the left to avoid plowing into patrons enjoying their evening meal on the patio of Caffé Concerto. They scampered in panic as the hatchback cut through a number of bikes locked into a rack at the edge of the sidewalk. Then the hatchback dropped back onto the road.

Ying slammed on the brakes as a car zoomed in from the right. Then she edged forward and merged into the traffic on the wide Haymarket Street.

The Audi was still behind them.

Ying turned to the right and passed a couple of slow-moving taxis. Then she reached a small Smart car. “Sorry,” Ying muttered as she jerked the wheel.

The front of the hatchback crashed into the side of the Smart car. It pushed it forward and to the left, and into a black van. The Smart car driver fought with the controls as the small vehicle spun around. Ying forced her way forward by climbing partially onto the sidewalk.

The Audi collided with the still-spinning Smart car.

Ying returned to their lane. She had increased the distance, but the Audi was still behind them.

She shook her head and stepped on the gas. Ying glanced to the left at another red double-decker nearing the next intersection. “If we time it right...”

“What?” Justin said.

“Hold on tight.”

Ying flattened the accelerator. The car tore through the empty stretch of road and shot through the intersection. It zipped a few feet away from the bus, then Ying wrenched the wheel, turning the car to the left. It slid into a small gap in the traffic and crossed to the next street.

The Audi’s driver was not that good or that lucky. The bus blocked Justin’s view for a long moment. Then, when it drove away, he saw the front of the Audi smashed in. The windshield was gone, and gray smoke spiraled from the wreck. The Audi was not going anywhere.

Ying had taken note of the situation. “They crashed,” she said triumphantly and eased off the gas.

Justin heaved a sigh of relief and holstered his pistol. “You did very well,” he said with a genuine tone of admiration.

“Thanks. I ... I never liked guns, but I love fast driving.”

“Unusual for a data analyst,” Carrie said.

“You’re right. I wanted to be an operative, like you and Justin, but...” Her voice trailed off. Ying shook her head and looked away. “I guess I just wasn’t cut out for it.”

She made a right turn, then a left, followed by another right. They were drawing near the next intersection. “Where to now?” Ying cocked her head toward the right. “Pall Mall East or Cockspur Street?”

Justin said, “Well, the police and Five will be all over the restaurant shooting and the car chase. I’m afraid we’ve overstayed our welcome in London.”

“We can stay at our embassy or one of our safehouses,” Ying said.

Justin shook his head. “Let’s not tempt fate. Do you have false IDs?”

“Do you have to ask?” Ying smiled.

“I’ll take that as a ‘yes.’ Let’s catch the tube at Piccadilly station and head to France.”

“Always wanted to go to Paris,” Ying said.

“Well, this is your chance,” Carrie said.

Justin nodded. “Yes, and perhaps in Paris we might learn something about Lim, since that’s the last place he was seen before vanishing.”