CHAPTER NINETEEN

 

 

By the time Heather arrived at the café in the Arrivals Lounge, Dan was on his second cup of coffee. He had exchanged the small amount that remained of his own cash - the few notes and coins that were in his pocket when he made the altogether rash decision to jump onto a plane bound for China - and used it to buy breakfast.

He spotted Heather from a long way off as she walked across the large open area between the entrance and where he sat. She easily stood out from the crowd with her long red hair and pale skin. And today, he noted, she opted for a much more formal business suit rather than the relaxed casual travel clothes from before. As she moved closer and the details of her face became clearer, Dan felt one of those rare and unusual smiles working at the corners of his mouth.

He gave in to the urge, as she sat down on the other side of the table from him with a smile of her own proudly showing on her face. He hoped it was for him.

"Morning. Did you sleep well?"

"No, not really. I had to sleep on a bench over there."

He indicated to a row of seating at the far side of the building where he had spent the night. Heather looked over in the direction he was pointing. As she did so, Dan sneaked an appreciative study of her from closer up. He breathed in the sweet scent of her perfume which was wafting towards him and wondered if she regretted leaving him last night when she did.

"Oh dear. It doesn't look very comfortable."

"I've slept on worse."

She smoothly brushed over his pathetic play for pity and got straight down to business.

"Look, I told him I would be alone and he's really jittery. So if you don't mind, can we sit at different tables? Maybe if you sit behind me or over there? Just so he doesn't link us together. I don't want to spook him."

The change in Heather was obvious. She was all business now. Gone was the cheery, likeable woman from the flight. Here was a professional, ready to set to work. Dan got the message loud and clear; chiding himself for losing sight of what he himself had come to do and instead acting like a love struck puppy towards a woman way out of his league.

"OK, but remember, if you get a chance, ask him about a man with a dragon tattoo."

"Once I have everything I need, I'll ask him."

Dan stood up and walked to the till. He bought another coffee and sat down at a table behind Heather. She didn't look at him as he passed by, even though he was looking at her, and Dan felt miffed at the change in her attitude. His back was to her but he was close enough to hear her shuffle papers, as she removed them from a briefcase she carried and arranged them on the table top. She was close enough that he could still make out the perfume she wore over the smell of coffee wafting up from his cup.

Dan shook his head, forcing his mind away from her. If he was to get anywhere, he would really need to get over this woman.

# # #

As she waited, the clock slowly making its way towards eight, Heather spent her time studying the information Peter Blackthorn had sent her about the Hangzhou Wildlife Sanctuary and the Panna Reserve in India. It seemed that the microchip, found by this man who claimed to be a butcher in the Sanctuary, traced back to the pregnant female tiger that had been taken from beneath her nose in India! The significance of the information Aiguo Chang could provide was not lost on her. Heather fully intended putting all else aside until she could squeeze every last drop of information out of Chang – including the very attractive but distracting Daniel Harpur!

She was aware of his presence behind her, brooding over a coffee after she had very unsubtly dismissed him, but he would have to wait. This was the break she had been praying for. Someone on the inside. Someone with enough knowledge to allow the WIA to make an impact on the illegal trade in tiger parts. If she could just tease out a few names of those involved, maybe some locations, movements or tactics used in the smuggling network. Then just maybe she could find a way to stop them. She might even get her hands on Selassie.

As she thought through what she might ask him, a man approached her table, stopping in front of her and offering her nothing but a nod of his head in greeting. Heather wasn't sure what Chang looked like, and quietly cursed herself for not asking him on the phone, but this was not what she expected. He wore jeans and a T-Shirt and looked barely out of his teens. Thick gold jewellery adorned his neck and wrists, and his arms were covered in crude, badly drawn tattoos. He didn't speak, he just nodded with his head again, indicating for her to follow and walked back across the open area towards the entrance.

On the phone, Chang had sounded nervous and elusive. Maybe he wanted to take her somewhere quiet to talk and to give her the microchip in private? Maybe he had sent someone else in to check things out and bring her to him? She had nothing to fear. This was an international airport with thousands of people already bustling in and out of the terminal.

Heather couldn't let him leave. She quickly stored the paperwork back into her briefcase and hurried toward the entrance.

# # #

Dan watched Heather walk away from him, without so much as a sideways glance. It was eight o'clock exactly. Where was she going now? No-one had come to meet with her, he was sure of that, so what was going on?

She had a certain urgency in her step and was heading straight for the doors. It wouldn't be long before he lost sight of her as a gradually increasing number of travellers blocked up the terminal, keen to return home, begin their holiday or just get on with their business.

At the doors she stopped and he thought he could see her talking with someone, but with all the people around and the angle at which she was stood, he couldn't be sure. After only a few seconds, a car pulled up to the kerb. The passenger door opened and a figure emerged, walking straight over to Heather. Something about this newcomer raised the hackles on Dan's neck. The way he walked, how he was dressed in a smart black suit and the expensive Mercedes car in which he travelled.

Dan kept his eyes on the couple as he vaulted the railings defining the seating area of the café and ran towards them. He lost sight of her a few times as the crowd thickened and he negotiated families pulling luggage, and holidaymakers in no particular hurry to move out of the way. But when he heard her screams, Dan increased his pace, shoving those barring his path out of the way with renewed strength and determination.

As his path cleared, Dan could see Heather struggling against two men who were trying their best to force her into the rear of the waiting Mercedes. Each had an arm, pointing her towards the open vehicle door as she wrestled wildly against them, kicking out and screaming at the top of her lungs. None of the passers-by stopped to help her and the few who stood close to the ruckus quickly moved; chased away by the man in the suit who barked at them and waved his hands in the air, scattering any would be witnesses like frightened children.

Dan called out as he closed the final few metres to the vehicle.

"Heather!"

It was only then, when the suited man turned at his call and was within touching distance, that Dan recognised who it was. It was Dragon Tattoo.

Caught up in his whirlwind trip with Heather, he had lost sight of his objective; distracted by a beautiful woman, he had allowed himself to become complacent. How could he not have recognised the man who had haunted his dreams for so long and driven him to some of the craziest decisions of his life?

Dragon Tattoo's arm raced out, slamming against Dan's chest, the forward motion of his run adding to its power and driving the wind from his lungs. He pitched backwards and fell to the pavement, but quickly rolled to the side, avoiding a vicious kick aimed at his head.

As he recovered, Dan could see the two men struggling with Heather hesitate just long enough for her to squirm loose from their grip and break away. He surged to his feet, relieved she had escaped and turned to face his opponent with all distraction gone.

Dragon Tattoo calmly walked forward to face him. The cruel grin Dan remembered from the medicine shop was there again, slowly creeping across his face. The creases it created on his cheeks touched the mouth of the dragon, which writhed and rippled its muscles in response. A shiver ran down Dan's spine at the sight of it. All those memories of Michael and the nightmares of his murder racing back to tease him once more.

"It's the knight in shining armour! Still in search of the ring to return to your fair maiden? Must I now take your other eye, Daniel Harpur?"

Dan circled warily, ignoring the comments and searching for a weakness he could exploit; any advantage at all he could find to finish it once and for all with the man who killed Michael. He would take his chance right now if he could. He would kill him here on the doorstep of Beijing Airport if he had to. His blood was up and he had nothing to lose. What life he had before was gone and he had no intention of returning to the pitiful existence he left behind in Belfast. It was now or never.

The area around them had cleared of people, and the two goons, with Heather long forgotten, instead focused their interests on Dan. They spread out around him, cutting off any potential escape route; which was good for Heather but very bad for Dan, even though escape was the last thing on his mind. The odds were badly stacked against him.

He bunched his fists and readied to attack, throwing everything he had into a full frontal assault. If he could just grab hold of Dragon Tattoo, clamp his hands around his neck or get his head in a choke hold, Dan wouldn't let go. He would squeeze the life out of him, until all his strength was gone.

The shrill blast of a whistle echoed around him, and in the distance, Dan could see several police officers running towards them. For a fraction of a second, Dragon Tattoo glanced over his shoulder, searching for the danger. Dan seized the moment and launched himself forwards, swinging his right arm in a wide arc to throw every ounce of strength and power he could muster into his first punch. His fist connected with the jaw of Dragon Tattoo with a satisfying crunch and they both fell to the ground in a tangle of limbs. Dan continued to punch, kick and claw at his opponent on the ground; fighting for all he was worth. The other two joined the melee, striking Dan on the head and back, and pulling at his body to remove him from their master. He couldn't keep a hold of Dragon Tattoo, and a brutal kick to the side of his head ended all hope of claiming his prize.

From the ground, he watched the unconscious body of Dragon Tattoo being dragged into the waiting Mercedes as one of the goons drew a firearm and shot at the approaching police.

At the sound of the shots, panic ensued in the airport; screaming people running for cover everywhere. Several rounds, returned by the police, struck the Mercedes, and with windows down and guns blazing from within, it sped away from the entrance.

Dan slowly rose to his feet. He wiped a trickle of blood away that ran from his head and down onto his face, then joined the fleeing crowd before the police arrived.