‘You two are lìhai!’ exclaimed Zhen, their guide applauding them, his pollution mask back on against the dust.

Connor coughed. ‘What?’

‘Hardcore! Entering a building marked for demolition, then sliding down that tube.’

Connor glared at Zhen. ‘What do you mean, marked for demolition?’

Zhen frowned. ‘Didn’t you see the red painted circle? It said chāi – demolition.’

‘You could’ve warned us!’ cried Amir.

‘I thought you could read Chinese,’ said Zhen with a shrug.

‘Whatever makes you think that?’

Zhen pointed to Connor. ‘He said you’re a guide.’

Connor gave a wheezing laugh. ‘That was a joke.’

Their guide blinked. ‘Oh. Sorry. I don’t understand English humour. I learnt your language from books and Hollywood movies.’

As the dust cloud began to disperse, Connor spotted a ghostly figure sprinting through the haze towards them. The man was large and powerfully built and wore a black pollution mask with mirrored shades. Whoever he was, he certainly wasn’t a demolition worker.

Connor turned to Zhen. ‘Get us out of here.’

‘Sure. Where do you want to go?’

‘Anywhere! Just do it,’ ordered Connor, handing over more money and jumping into the rickshaw’s back seat. Amir had spotted the menacing figure too and, tossing in his Go-bag, leapt in beside Connor.

Zhen, unaware of the approaching threat, raised a slim eyebrow in surprise at the handful of yuan notes. ‘OK, I give you extra-special Shanghai Surprise tour,’ he said, mounting his bike and pulling out of the car park. ‘We start at People’s Square, before heading into French Concession, then we will make our way back to Old Town for the Yùyuán Gardens and Confucian Temple. After that I will show you the real Shanghai, explore the backstreets and visit some local homes –’

‘Sounds great. Let’s go!’ said Connor, barely taking any notice of their guide’s tour plan. His eyes were fixed on the figure emerging from the dust cloud. The masked man was waving angrily at them as their rickshaw merged with the traffic and slipped away. Then a white telecom van pulled up at the kerb, their pursuer leapt in and the van gave chase.

Amir looked at Connor with a horrified expression, the dust on his face making him appear pale with fright. ‘I think they intend to finish the job!’

Connor shouted to their guide. ‘Can’t you go any faster?’

‘You two always in a hurry!’ remarked Zhen with a laugh. ‘Lucky for you the battery is fully charged!’

Zhen flicked a switch on the handlebars and the electric motor kicked in. The rickshaw took on a burst of speed and they zipped along the road. Behind, the van forced its way between the lanes of cars, scooters and taxis, determined not to let them out of its sight. But the rickshaw’s smaller size and nimbleness allowed them to weave through gaps in the traffic and they steadily pulled ahead.

‘We’re losing them,’ said Amir with relief.

But then the rickshaw came to a halt.

‘What’s the problem?’ asked Connor.

‘No problem,’ Zhen replied breezily. ‘Traffic lights.’

As the lights stubbornly stayed on red, the traffic began to clog up. A dozen or so cars back, the telecom van had stopped too and the masked man got out. He started to wend his way towards them.

‘Know any more shortcuts?’ Connor asked.

‘Of course!’ replied Zhen, pulling off the road and on to the pavement. Manically ringing the bike’s bell, Zhen forged a path through the crowds of pedestrians, then turned off down a side alley and cut through to an adjacent road. As they swung left to join the traffic again, Connor glanced back and spotted the masked figure standing at the far end of the alley. Their pursuer had apparently given up the chase.

‘See the red building ahead? The old one with the curved roof?’ Zhen called out as he continued with the tour, oblivious to everything that had gone on behind. ‘That’s the Dàjìng Gé Pavilion. It sits on top of the last remaining section of the old city walls. Originally built in the sixteenth century to protect Shanghai against pirates, now most of it has gone …’

As their guide pedalled them in the direction of People’s Square, every so often pointing out landmarks and rattling off guidebook facts, Connor and Amir engaged in a frantic whispered discussion.

‘Mannequins! Wrecking balls! What the heck happened back there?’ asked Amir.

‘We were set up,’ said Connor.

Amir wiped the dust and grime from his face. ‘By the colonel?’

‘If he’s the traitor, then yes.’ Connor frowned deeply. ‘But that doesn’t make any sense. Why would he want to destroy his own organization? Why would he want to kill us?’

Amir shrugged. ‘The enemy could’ve intercepted the message, or else the text was never sent by the colonel in the first place.’

Connor’s concern for the colonel spiked and he swallowed hard as a stark realization hit him. ‘If they’ve got his encrypted phone, then they must have him too.’

Amir slumped back into the rickshaw’s plastic seat. ‘So what do we do now?’

‘Stay alive,’ said Connor grimly. ‘Whoever attacked HQ clearly wants us dead. Their aim must be to wipe out the entire organization. We’re going to need all our bodyguard skills just to protect one another. Then our next priority is to contact –’

‘Hold on. Do you hear that?’ interrupted Amir.

‘What?’

‘That high-pitched buzzing.’ Amir looked up and searched the sky. ‘There!’ He pointed to a small drone hovering high over their rickshaw. It appeared to be the same one that had spied in through the office window. ‘We’ve got to get off the street and into hiding, otherwise we’ll never evade their surveillance.’

Connor tapped their guide on the shoulder, interrupting his commentary. ‘Is there somewhere we can stay?’

Zhen nodded. ‘I know a good hostel. Cheap! Well, cheap for Shanghai.’

‘Take us there then, but can you –’

Suddenly the rickshaw gave a jolt as a vehicle shunted them from behind.

‘Báichī sīj ī!’ yelled Zhen at the driver, waving his fist in fury.

The driver evidently took offence at this and rammed into the rickshaw again, the impact lifting the front wheel off the ground. Almost bucked from his bike, Zhen screamed abuse at the man as they were forced at increasing speed down the road. Clinging to the rickshaw for dear life, Connor turned round to see a silver Mercedes on their bumper. In the front passenger seat sat the woman with the steel-framed glasses.

‘STOP! STOP!’ cried Amir, pointing ahead in panic. The rickshaw was on a collision course with the back of a parked truck.

Zhen battled to regain control of his steering as the Mercedes’ engine revved and growled, accelerating them towards the truck. Bracing himself for the impact, Connor had a sickening vision of his own mangled and bloody body sandwiched between the wreckage of the rickshaw and the silver bonnet of the Mercedes. But at the last moment the rickshaw’s front wheel touched back down and Zhen swerved violently to the right. There was a screech of tyres as the Mercedes narrowly missed the truck itself. But the sudden turn had been too sharp for the rickshaw and it began to keel over like a ship in a storm. Almost thrown from their seats, Connor and Amir clung to the frame.

With the rickshaw at tipping point, Zhen yelled, ‘Lean!’

Connor and Amir both threw their weight into the turn and the rickshaw righted itself. As soon as all three wheels were back on the ground, Zhen twisted the electric engine’s throttle to the max and shot away down the pavement.

Wheels spinning and rubber burning, the silver Mercedes followed, mounting the kerb and driving with homicidal speed. People leapt aside in panic, cyclists collided with each other, and those on scooters went hurtling into shop fronts.

‘Faster!’ Connor shouted as the Mercedes gained on them.

‘I’m going … as fast … as I can!’ gasped Zhen, his legs pumping and the electric motor whining. Sweat poured from his brow and his breathing became ragged and strained.

The Mercedes was almost on top of them when, in a skilful and unexpected manoeuvre, Zhen veered off the pavement and down a side lane. Connor heard the Mercedes brake hard, tyres squealing on tarmac.

He looked back. The lane was too narrow for the car.

‘Good work, Zhen. We got away!’ Amir yelled.

But Connor wasn’t so jubilant. The insect-like buzz of the drone continued to hound them from above.