

### Time Stops Ticking

Simon M Gray

Smashwords Edition

Copyright 2011 Simon M Gray

http://www.simonmgray.com

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Prologue

Kashi: population 190,000. Western terminus in the barren Xinjiang Uygur; autonomous region of China.

Hu Lee pressed his forehead to the window of the People's Republic of China Trade Ministry's Airbus 320. The yellow-brown landscape blurred to rolling sludge behind his tears. The flaps extended, as the pilot banked for the military air base, five miles north of Kashi whose buildings below, looked like acne on a ravaged face. An important commercial outpost for China, populated by Uigur; their flat caps and swarthy, dark Middle Eastern complexions testimony that Kashi used to be the capital of the Uigur Turks in AD 750, passing definitively to China in 1760 from the hereditary Muslim kings of the Khojar. There had since been uprisings and periods of contested control but the hardship and suffering within those nondescript buildings was not the cause of Hu Lee's tears.

He blinked rapidly while removing his glasses, aware that a colleague with inquisitive eyes was glancing his way. Hu Lee pinched the bridge of his nose, making a show of popping his ears. Brushing away the tears, he nodded curtly before glancing down the aisle to the VIP seating where the Minister for Trade was holding court with his closest advisors. Hu Lee frowned. He should be there. He had been in the department longer. Passed over twice for promotion. His wife had hinted he was spineless. He hadn't argued. What could he do anyway? He hadn't been promoted because the Minister didn't think he was ready. Hu Lee pulled at his seat belt, feeling it squeeze against his already knotted stomach. He had accepted his situation – until last month's signing of the Russian agreement.

Hu Lee's hands balled to fists. Two years of intensive investigation and negotiation with contacts he alone had nurtured, putting together a rescue package for Russia's Yulos oil company, involving a secretive $6 billion loan from Eximbank, the Chinese Export-Import Bank, to another mid-sized Russian oil company, giving them enough resources to buy the Yulos's oil fields, on the understanding they would supply the China National Petroleum Corporation, on a fixed, $75 per barrel contract. The Russians were happy; the Mafia pleased that no foreign-owned company was moving into their territory. Hu Lee had even managed to secure the building of the pipeline to a prominent Shanghai construction company. It had been his deal but the Minister had given him no credit.

The A320 sank towards the ground. It was not enough, he realised sadly. There was a quiet panic throughout the government. A panic which had put a massive burden on the Trade Ministry. Through their hard work and the people's dedication, China was now the fastest-growing economy in the world and would be bigger than the United States by 2015. China was already the second largest oil consumer, but needed more – much more.

Hu Lee watched the sunlight reflect off the onion-shaped dome of the Aidkah Mosque. He could see the streets now, crammed with people and animals dodging vehicles, many of which were heading for the mountain passes to the Middle East.

The pilot announced they would land at the airbase in two minutes.

The United States had not been happy with his Russian deal. Hu Lee adjusted his seatbelt. Perhaps that was why the Minister had not promoted him. He had failed to realise that several of Yulos's major shareholders were US oil companies. They were now threatening to sue Eximbank for facilitating the sale of Yulos, which in their opinion was in defiance to a US bankruptcy court ruling in Houston, Texas.

The wheels of the A320 thudded onto the tarmac at the People's Liberation Army Airforce base, braking hard between ranks of Su-30 Flanker fighter-bombers. The A320 manoeuvred between the swept wings and needle-pointed noses, across interconnecting strips of concrete before stopping beside a Boeing 747, unmarked except for a discreet crown high on the tail.

They had been delayed in Beijing and should have arrived before their guests. The Trade Minister was not pleased. To avoid loss of face, he would have his Personal Assistant make the necessary apology before shaking hands.

Hu Lee followed the line of dark suits to a waiting bus. The Minister and his entourage departed in a convoy of black limousines. A Bedouin-designed marquee was set up on ground near the PLAAF base for the signing process later that afternoon.

Hu Lee, if he was lucky, would witness the moment. More likely, he would be kept back at the trailers – three temporary offices for him and his colleagues to check the amendments their guests had made to the 250-page document. They were pushed for time, Hu Lee thought, draping his jacket over the back of a plastic chair. He had been assigned the task of confirming the oil volume quota had not changed.

If the United States had not been happy about his Russian deal, then they were going to be incensed with the one his Minister was about to sign.

The US, with its usual arrogance, had yet to realise what the next worldwide flashpoint was going to be. Through its blinkered self-interest it believed that oil was the most important resource, but China, in its wisdom, had found something more important to trade with the Arab oil producing nations. Something far more desirable than guns and bullets and the promise of western democracy. Something that their guests could only produce very expensively. Something that their sun-baked lands could only create by using more of the oil they desperately needed to export.

Water.

Hu Lee sat back in his chair. With the population growth in the oil producing Arab countries, their requirement for water was reaching critical levels. Their desalination plants, that converted seawater through advanced osmosis technology, used copious quantities of oil and could still barely produce enough for their burgeoning populations. The fact that many of them were angry with America's military involvement in the region and what seemed their open aggressiveness against Muslims, had made the Chinese proposal all the sweeter. As Hu Lee stared blankly at the pages, a few miles north pipelines were being laid, like a new Wall of China – except that they were hidden from satellite imaging, passing through tunnels and keeping to the black shadows of deep passes to the Middle East. This time next year, they would be carrying millions of gallons of fresh water to the desert lands on the Arabian Peninsula from the vast underground North China Plain aquifers. In return, China would receive oil to sustain her economic development.

Hu Lee sat forward and rested his elbows on the desk. It was a brilliant agreement. His Minister was being highly praised. But, it was also dangerous and destabilising for the entire world. The United States, historically, did not react well when threatened. Hu Lee could feel his shirt sticking to his back. His deal had been brilliant too. A sound business strategy – except for overlooking the bankruptcy ruling. Still, he had deserved recognition.

A few more days and his Minister would truly regret ignoring him.

Chapter 1

'You ready?'

The man next to him pulled nervously at the seatbelt. 'Go for it!'

Leo checked the pit lane was clear, dropped the clutch – and the rear tyres squealed, smoke pouring from the rubber. The BMW M3 struggled to keep the horsepower on the road. Leo expertly counteracted the sliding rear as it fought for grip. The V8 bellowed as he rapid-shifted up through the gears, speed quickly climbing past 120 mph. The first corner, he could feel the man next to him going rigid, his hands clutching at an imaginary wheel, his foot stamping on a non-existent brake, Leo took the gentle right-hander at top speed; the man next to him shouted 'whooaa,' which turned to an embarrassed laugh. They were through and racing down the dip to the next, sharper, right-hander. Down through the six-speed sequential gearbox, engine bellowing, the carbon-fibre brakes effortlessly bringing the BMW down to 50 mph, the rumble of concrete protecting the corner apex. A squeal of rubber, another 'whooaa,' from his passenger and Leo hit the accelerator, the BMW leaping forward up through the gears.

The first lap he always pushed to the limit, perhaps to rub their noses in it, but more likely to keep the buzz that had got him into motor sport. The next two laps, however, he took more leisurely, giving his passenger time to understand the instructions he was relaying: what gear he should be in, when he should start braking, how to set the car up for each corner.

The end of the third lap, Leo pulled off the circuit, the engine rumbling as they parked under the marquee supporting the corporate logo for that day's guest. His passenger fumbled with the racing harness as his friends gave him the thumbs-up, champagne spilling from their glasses. Leo reached over and helped release the catches. 'You liked that?'

'Bloody fantastic,' the man said, a sickly grin on his red face, his cheeks compressed by the helmet, sweat on his top lip.

Leo's mechanic opened the door.

The man rolled out, puking over the concrete, his colleagues cheering manically, slapping his backside as he crawled from the side of the car. He reached the table, pulled himself into a chair and accepted a glass of champagne while pulling off his helmet, letting it clatter to the floor.

'Who's next?' Leo called, shaking his head at his mechanic who looked up disgustedly from the floor. It paid the bills, and after his short-lived professional career, he should thank these city bankers. He earned more now than he ever had racing.

No-one volunteered.

'Come on you wankers, I'm not paying for you to drink champagne all day,' the fat man who had puked over the floor shouted.

A woman stepped forward from the edge of the group. Tight jeans, high heels, long Blond hair, windswept over the turned-up collar of a black North Face jacket. She leant in through the door, the mechanic stepping out of the way with a sly wink.

'Leo, you promised I could have a drive,' she pouted, wiggling her arse at the men standing behind her. She was one of the directors for the fund managers and had spent her instruction laps telling him how much money she had earned last year, despite the downturn and credit crunch. He hadn't asked the question, but had given up trying to teach her the skills of racing as she concentrated on describing how her new Porsche handled.

Leo reluctantly let her into the driving seat, his mechanic adjusting its settings. 'Don't you have any other shoes?' he asked the woman, looking sideways at Leo.

'I drive my Porsche with these. This is only a BMW!'

The crowd laughed.

Leo knew how much his mechanic hated his beloved cars being ruined by these people.

His other drivers came in from the track. Leo looked at his watch as he climbed in beside the blond. Only another hour.

Her name was Claire, and she stalled the car twice on leaving the marquee. Each time the men outside cheered; each time she swore and gave them the finger.

'Try without your shoes on,' Leo suggested.

'Bollocks, I can do this,' she retorted, and eventually she drove onto the track, red lining in the first two gears, aggressively stamping on the brake for the corner, missing the apex and pulling away in fourth, the V8 manfully coping with the torture.

'OK, change up ... no, that's down ... brake ... brake ... brake ...' Leo shouted as the BMW left the track, gravel crackling against the black paintwork.

'Bollocks!' she screamed, stamping even harder on the accelerator. The car spun and stalled.

Her mobile phone rang.

Leo looked incredulous as she calmly reached into her pocket and answered it. 'Oh, hello darling, how are you?' She tilted the rear view mirror and swept a strand of hair back under the helmet.

'Oh, did you!' she gasped, 'What was he like?'

'Excuse me Claire, you're going to have to do that later, we're in a dangerous place here.'

Clare rolled her eyes, blowing a kiss from cherry-red lips. 'Listen darling, I'm going to have to call you back, I'm racing at the moment.'

'Do you have a girlfriend, Leo?' Claire asked, having spent a few minutes trying to get the BMW started again.

'No ... you can accelerate ...'

'Why not?' She looked at him.

'Keep your eyes on the track. Look, you're going too fast for this corner ...'

'Bollocks!'

'Jesus Claire! Do you put as much concentration as this into your business?'

'Cheeky bugger. No, honestly, why haven't you got a girl? You race cars. You're not bad looking ...'

What could he tell her? Girls got pissed off pretty quickly with a moody, failed racing driver.

An hour later and the last of them weaved out of the car park, the fat Chief Executive's green Bentley narrowly missing the gate post.

'Right, you are going to manage without me, aren't you?' Leo asked, looking at his employees – three other drivers, the mechanic and administrative manager, the office and marketing manager. 'Course we are,' they chorused, grinning.

Leo shook his head wearily. 'Just don't damage any of the cars.' He searched for his phone in his racing overalls. Dialled a pre-set number.

'Mate! How's it going? You ready?'

There was a slight pause. 'Yeah Leo, no worries. What time do we have to be at the airport?'

Leo looked at his watch. 'Five hours. You want me to swing by and pick you up at the showroom?'

'No, I'm not working late. I'll get the missus to drop me off.'

'You alright?' Leo asked, stepping out of his overalls.

'Yeah, of course. Just a shit load to do.'

'We're going to have fun.'

'Yeah,' Tom replied, and the phone went dead.

Chapter 2

'Tesco! You've missed the bloody deadline for Tesco?' Vib pulled his tie from his neck, unhooking a button.

His Production Manager crossed his arms tightly. 'I told you last week we needed a new part for that machine.'

'Fuck off. You didn't tell me it was critical.'

'You knew, without it we couldn't seal the jars properly.' The Production Manager uncrossed his arms and stuffed his hands into his pockets.

'Fuck you ... fuck you,' Vib shouted.

'You can't talk to me like that.' The Production Manager's red face was glistening with perspiration.

'Fuck you, I'll talk to you ...'

'Vib!' A well-dressed, elderly man entered. 'Everyone can hear you.' A cuff-linked arm pointed out through the glass partition to employees at their desks.

'What?' Vib looked briefly from his office. 'I don't fucking care. This arsehole has just cost us a fortune.' Vib waved his hand dismissively at the Production Manager.

'Would you give us a minute,' the elderly man said quietly, smoothing silver hair behind his ears. He lowered himself into Vib's chair, crossing his legs. 'Sit down Vib.'

Vib shook his head irritably, pacing in front of the desk, his handsome face set in an ugly scowl.

'Do you think this is the right way to handle the situation?' the elderly man asked.

'He's lost us ...'

'Has he?'

Vib stopped pacing.

'I've read the report on that machine, the elderly man continued. 'A requisition was put in for a spare part the beginning of last week. Why didn't you authorise it?'

'I'm too busy.'

'You're inefficient.'

'I'm not! He should have told me how urgent it was.'

'He did.' The elderly man's silver eyebrows arrowed to the bridge of his hooked nose. 'You have not read the report, have you?'

'Mr. Patel, look ... I can't be responsible for ...'

'You are the General Manager,' Patel growled. 'You are responsible for everything.'

'That's not fair.' Vib blushed, his Indian skin darkening. He swept a lock of dark hair from his face.

'What's not fair,' Patel stared unblinking, 'is that I had to employ you in the first place.'

Vib looked down at his hands. 'You don't mean that. Since I've taken over, turnover has quadrupled.'

'You did not take over,' Patel said ominously. 'You married my only daughter. I'm told, I had no choice.'

'I bought Tesco into the company,' Vib said, standing straighter.

'We got Tesco because our sauces are the very best. That is the only reason.'

Vib slumped into a chair, avoiding the penetrating stare. Sweat ran down the inside of his shirt. He felt every eye in the office on him; his anger boiled from the humiliation.

'You're going away this evening, aren't you?' Patel said quietly, drumming his fingers on the desk.

'It's not important. I can cancel,' Vib said, suddenly scared.

'It was a stupid idea in the first place, leaving my company and my daughter alone for two weeks.'

'I'll cancel.' Vib leant forward in the chair.

'No, I think you should go.' Patel stood and walked to the door. 'It'll give us a chance to get things back to normal.' He opened the door. 'Give you a chance to think seriously about your future.'

Vib controlled his urge to race across the floor and punch the superior expression from the old man's face, to pick up the chair and crash it down on his manicured hair, breaking that stupid great nose, ripping his expensive suit. He buried his head in his hands, shaking with rage.

Vib's mobile vibrated. He picked it up without looking.

'Hey buddy, you ready for the big off?'

'What?' Vib said, clenching the phone tightly.

'Mate, it's me, Dan ...'

'Oh, yeah ... sorry.'

'You don't sound in the holiday spirit!'

'Fucking holiday.'

There was a crash in the background. 'Damn it,' Dan shouted. 'Listen, could you swing by the restaurant and pick me up? Janine has the car this evening.'

'I ... er, I don't know. I'm going to be here pretty late.'

There was silence and Vib could hear the clink of cutlery. 'Yeah, alright,' he said irritably. 'I'll be there around seven.'

'Cutting it fine, isn't it mate?'

'I don't give a shit. I'll see you later.' Vib slammed the phone on his desk and glared at the Production Manager, now talking to his father-in-law.

Chapter 3

Daniel looked at the phone in his hand. Poor Vib, he really couldn't cope with the stress. He swilled the glass of red wine in his hand, looking over the rim at the young waitress picking up the shards of china. Janine had just employed her. Polish girl. Long legs in tight jeans; good figure, he thought, watching her bend and pick up the broken plate.

Janine appeared from the kitchen, Sheila, their manager, struggling to keep up. 'OK, get the candles lit,' Janine ordered, scowling at her husband. 'You really got time to sit there drinking?'

'Nope,' Daniel said, getting resignedly to his feet. 'Sheila, are you OK with the ordering schedule?' he smiled at the harassed looking woman.

'I...I think so...yeah...Renata, could you light the table candles please?'

The Polish girl frowned.

Janine clicked her fingers irritably at the tables. 'Candles dear, light the bloody candles.'

Daniel searched his pocket and found a box of matches. 'Here, use these,' he said.

'I can't believe you're doing this to me.' Janine was close to tears. 'I really can't.'

Daniel finished the wine and made sure the price was right for the bottle on the menu. 'We talked about this, remember? Up until yesterday, you said it was fine. It would do me good.'

'What about me, how am I going to cope with two restaurants and a baby?'

'You don't have to cope. Sheila is perfectly capable and Harry's been in the business longer than me, so you don't have to worry about that either.'

'I can't believe you're pissing off for two weeks and just ... leaving me.'

'I need a rest,' Daniel said, watching the traffic. Four-thirty, already dark, he thought sadly. 'I've been doing this for two years solidly. I need time out.'

'What about me?'

He gazed at his wife, hair, tied in a pony-tail, making her face look fatter than usual. The tip of her pointed nose was pink; it always was whenever she was angry or about to cry. He reached for her but she backed away, eyes brimming. 'Sod off, that's not going to help.'

'But honey we discussed this. You said it was OK.'

'You don't love me anymore, do you?'

Daniel looked at Sheila with embarrassment. 'Of course I do. But the doctor said I needed a break, remember?'

Janine sniffed, snatching a napkin from a table and blowing her nose. 'You could have just stayed at home.'

Daniel poured himself another glass of wine. 'And I probably would have, if Leo hadn't called.'

'Your friends are more important than me.'

'Rubbish. I haven't seen them in months.' Daniel went towards the kitchen; he wanted to make sure the chef was happy. 'Everything's under control. Don't worry. Vib will pick me up at about seven, so you can leave if you like.'

'Fine, I will.' Janine snatched up her handbag. The door banged open – a blast of frigid air, and she was gone.

Chapter 4

Hu Lee worked tirelessly in the cramped conditions ensuring the agreed oil quota remained unchanged. He spotted the Arabs' five percent increase in the water quantity supplied during a 24-hour cycle. This amounted to millions of gallons. Concern rippled through the team that it would put a crippling burden on the North China Plain aquifers.

The scientists had spent months analysing the aquifers, studying the replenishment rates, arriving at a safe figure at which the vast underground lakes could be drained. They had reduced the figure a further ten percent to add in a margin of error. The Trade Ministry, together with the Eximbank and the Ministry for Finance, had spent months discussing a fair water-to-oil value. Now, at the eleventh hour, they had changed the percentages because of the volatile price of worldwide crude.

Hu Lee turned forward to the appendix for his section and used his finger to follow each character. Starting on the right, he slowly ran his finger down the column, making sure he understood each word and phrase, double-checking there was no hidden meaning. The Trade Minister still insisted that all documents were produced in the column format, reading right to left, which added to his concentration levels. He was used to reading newspapers, books and practically every other piece of information, in rows on a left to right basis. The only advantage to a right to left document was that Arabic followed the same format.

Hu Lee read: 'Crude oil prices reached a record high in October of $105.17 per barrel, a significant leap from the 2003 average of $31.10. Factors that combined to contribute to the continued upward trend are: high growth of petroleum demand centred on China ...'

He sat back and nodded. The Arabs were telling them they understood how desperate their economy was for oil.

He leant forward again. '... the tight supply and demand situation in the US petroleum product market; a marked drop in surplus supply capacity in the international petroleum market; terrorism and conflicts; oil company financial and operational problems; and other problems in major petroleum producing countries such as Iraq, Nigeria and Russia." The appendix then examined each point and drew a solid conclusion that oil prices were always going to rise. Hu Lee appreciated that the Arabs, literally, had them over a barrel.

He loosened his tie and looked nervously for his section boss. He was a stickler for dress code.

Hu Lee glanced through the dusty window. The huge white marquee was a dazzling contrast to the baked soil. The sun was settling on the distant peaks like an orange on a juice squeezer. The barren mountains were the border with Kazakhstan. It was an alien and desolate landscape, and Hu Lee shivered, despite the temperature.

'Lee!' his section manager barked. Hu Lee whipped round, nodding his head apologetically. 'Can you confirm that these slippery Arabs will still send the same number of barrels for the five percent increase?' The manager was looking pointedly at the slackened tie.

'Yes Manager Wu, but they state the term has been reduced from three years to thirty months.'

Hu Lee signed off his section of translation and rushed over to Manager Wu's desk, holding it forward with both hands. It was snatched from his grasp. 'We know about the thirty months, Lee. You may wait here or on the plane. I am afraid there is no more room in the marquee.'

Hu Lee remained expressionless. The only sign of his anger was a slight twitch under his left eye. He bowed and walked rigidly back to his desk. He would be the only one, other than the secretaries, not going to witness the ceremony. Manager Wu was punishing him for the Russian deal. Hu Lee knew he was going nowhere within the department.

During the next hour of frantic activity, the document was reassembled in its entirety, fully translated with each section signed by the department manager and then counter-signed by the Trade Minister himself, after which a clean document was produced in Mandarin, Arabic and English. With a few minutes to spare, they left for the marquee. The secretaries started to pack away the laptops and shred piles of unused paper and discarded reports.

Hu Lee went to Manager Wu's desk. His laptop was still connected. He waved a secretary away imperiously. 'I need to shut this down properly or we will lose all the information,' he said. 'Give me five minutes.'

Manager Wu had the entire finished document, in the three separate languages, on his machine. Hu Lee had Manager Wu's password.

He slipped a CD from his jacket and pushed it into the laptop drive. He could hear the motor running and a bead of perspiration ran down his face. He looked over the screen to make sure no-one was watching. The secretaries were still busy on the other side of the low partition. The screen message advised him the disk was configured correctly and ready to copy. He saved and sent the file across to drive F and clicked copy. The disk whirred again and in 23 seconds the entire agreement in the three languages was copied onto the disk.

Hu Lee extracted the disk and slipped it into a plastic sleeve before putting it back inside his jacket. He checked that no trace of the copied file had been left on Manager Wu's laptop. Satisfied, he shut down the machine. He snapped the screen shut and a drop of perspiration splashed on the black plastic surface. Hu Lee hurriedly brushed it off with his sleeve and pushed back the chair. It scraped loudly on the linoleum. He could feel his hands shaking and he stuffed them into his trouser pockets. He needed fresh air. He rushed out.

The sun had slid behind the peaks and the air at their high altitude was quickly cooling. He gulped a lungful and immediately felt better. His mouth was dry and he could feel his shirt sticking to him. He walked away, the dust covering his polished shoes. An Su-30 took off, its afterburners a crackling roar. There was a smattering of applause from inside the marquee. Several white-robed Arabs were standing about the main entrance. Leaning against limousines, smoking and talking. Unlike him, they had no interest in what was going on inside. They were just servants.

How dare they treat him like this!

He patted the disk. The woman he had made contact with in Shanghai - Sarah J - was going to be very pleased. She had promised him $200,000, a resident alien Green Card for the United States, plus lifetime living expenses.

He knew how important this information was to the Americans. They would have time to put another deal forward offering better technology, better planes, guns ... The Arabs would not think twice about reneging on the deal they were currently signing. The agreement only started once the water and oil began flowing. Up until then, either side had escape clauses – war or natural catastrophes – but he was sure if the Arabs had to, they would find a way out. Weapons and nuclear power or water – that would be their choice.

Hu Lee had no doubt how seriously any leak would be treated – solitary confinement in the notorious K Block at Banbuqiao Detention Centre, a section for prisoners condemned to death. He had made it perfectly clear to Sarah J that he had to get out of the country with an untraceable identity. He had visited San Francisco three years ago, astounded at his cousin's standard of living. That's where he wanted to live.

Hu Lee had come to Sarah J's attention because of his Russian deal. She had been impressed. She was beautiful too, and her body, when she revealed it to him in an hotel suite after an evening of champagne, had been intoxicating. The whole of San Francisco was full of Sarah J's – that exotic Chinese-western look. He wasn't sure when he had become aware that she worked for the US Embassy, or when she had realised how frustrated he was with his lack of recognition. She was beautiful, that was all that mattered, and he had no wife or girlfriend to worry about.

Hu Lee patted the disk in his jacket. Now all that remained was to get back to Beijing, get a connecting flight to Shanghai, then Hong Kong, before a new life with $200,000, a sum he would have to live a lifetime to earn in China.

He picked up a pebble, grey and smooth from millennia of windblown erosion. It was hard and cold and yet he felt he could crush it like chalk. He was going to win. He was going to show them. He threw the stone towards the fence that protected the air base and then walked purposefully towards the waiting bus. He could not wait to leave and get on with his new life.

Chapter 5

A woman's scream. Lights dimmed. Corridors lit with emergency LEDs, leading like narrow runways to the exits. Pale faces illuminated by the frozen glow of the TV screens in the seat backs – blinked off to leave just the No Smoking and Fasten Seat Belt sign.

An overhead locker fell open, its contents escaping from under the retaining cargo net. More screams.

Leo smelt fear, mixed with the stale odour from the long flight. His nails dug into the armrests. A flight attendant struggled past, her knuckles white as she strained for support, her cheeks vibrating from the motion.

A rumble under his feet sounded like part of the plane tearing away.

'Landing gear,' Vib shouted, a little too shrilly for his look of nonchalance.

Leo tore his gaze from the TV screen and rolled his head sideways; he smiled, glad for the first time that Vib had grabbed the window seat. The lights surged and through the window all was swirling cloud. Nothing man-made could withstand those forces for long. He fixed his gaze on the seat belt sign.

The flight attendant battled back to her seat. Above the bangs, rattles and screams in the cabin they could hear the engines begin a desperate, manic roar.

'Can you see anything?' Tom shouted from the other seat. He was not trying to cover his fear. His jowls wobbled and his chest and stomach bounced under his t-shirt. His pale skin accentuated by dark stubble; his lips, a thin bloodless line, his fingers clamped like claws into the armrests.

Vib turned from the window and shook his head. 'Can't be far. The map said we only had a few miles to go.'

'Why doesn't the Captain say something?' Tom asked.

'Busy, I guess.' Vib's grin quivered.

The giant plane rocked from one wing to another. Rain streamed past the windows and pulses of lightning briefly outlined the flexing wing.

The engines howled.

A crash from the galley. A woman in front began to cry hysterically. The seats vibrated as the fuselage bucked through the storm's violence.

Leo waited for the ripping sound of metal as they plunged into the surface. He pictured surviving the initial impact, with bloodied and dead people around him, fire in the darkness, survivors manically struggling for the exits; then he realised they would probably end up in the sea – water jetting between the ragged holes, the cabin filling; screams as they struggled in blackness over the broken seats and people. Sweat ran down his body.

Come on, get it over with.

The wheels hit with a force that jarred his spine. He squeezed his eyes tight, waiting for impact as the wheels sheared from their axles. Silence. What had happened? His eyes flew open. He could see nothing through the spangled windows. Another jarring impact and then a constant rumble as the plane straightened, decelerating with a final roar from the engines. Suddenly, red, blue and green lights flashed by in the darkness and the pilot, not attempting to hide the strain in his voice, welcomed them to Chep Lap Kok, Hong Kong's international airport.

There was applause from the rear of the cabin and Vib looked round with irritation. 'He's only doing his bloody job.'

'Yeah, but he deserves a bonus. You can't see a thing out there,' said Leo.

Vib looked out the window. 'These things can land themselves. Where's the skill in that? You don't see me running about the office expecting my staff to applaud me when I get a contract.'

Leo smiled apologetically at the angry eyes glaring back through the gap in the seats. The man in front had his arm around the shoulders of the sobbing woman next to him.

Leo looked across the aisle. Daniel was reading a guidebook. He put it aside, stretched, yawned and said: 'Did you know that this is the Year of the Rooster?'

Leo grinned.

'If I have a rooster ...' Tom began loudly, releasing his fingers from the armrests and stretching them above his head, 'and you have a donkey, and your donkey bites off my rooster's feet, what do you have?'

The three of them looked at him blankly.

'Two feet of my cock in your ass,' Tom said, equally loudly, rolling his shoulders.

Silence. Then the whir of air-conditioning, the bump of the undercarriage, the whine of engines – and Daniel sniggered. Leo could feel the tension bubble from him. He laughed until tears stung his eyes. The man in front smiled, still holding his sobbing partner. The flight attendant walked past with a smirk. Tom eased the muscles in his shoulders, his face ashen, his lips a thin, bloodless line.

Leo could feel their old camaraderie return. It lasted until the 747 nosed up to the gate, and even while everyone scrambled into the aisles and opened lockers whose contents tumbled on tired and irritable heads, but it evaporated when the walkway that connected the terminal to the aircraft failed. Then he could sense their silent cursing.

*****

Leo watched the red lights blink out as the train travelled its route. The Airport Express had two stops before Hong Kong; Kowloon and Tsing Yi. Total journey time - 23 minutes - the counter started as soon as the train left Chep Lap Kok.

'Can you imagine Southwest Trains sticking that rigidly to a schedule?' Vib said. 'My staff would be stuffed. No more, I'm sorry I'm late, the seven-thirty was delayed.'

The others nodded at their reflections.

Tom belched and then farted. He opened an eye and looked around. 'Pardon me,' he said, stretching his legs.

Leo moved closer to the window.

'Airline crap, what do you expect?' added Tom.

Out of them all, Tom was ageing the fastest. His sun-hidden pallor looked sickly under the artificial lights. Two stone overweight, without the height to carry it.

They found the minibus with a Pacific Grand Hotel card in the window. It emerged from the underground parking area to the multi-coloured neon of Kowloon. Nearly midnight; the streets crowded, the shops open. Arching yellow arrows ran from rooftops to shop entrances: Canon, Pepsi, Nike, McDonalds, KFC flashed their corporate messages. Headlights were subdued to weak torch beams. Leo imagined getting out and burning from the glare.

He nudged Daniel. 'You alright?'

'Yeah, of course, just past my bedtime.'

They did not see the sign for the Pacific Grand until the minibus pulled up in front of reception, its red neon lost beside a huge Fuji and another for a Honda Scooter.

'This place is buzzing.' Leo shouldered his duffle bag.

'Smells like a bloody take-away,' said Tom.

They went through the revolving door. 'Reservation for four... Leo McLaren?'

The receptionist typed delicately, holding a smile, and nodded. 'Please, passports,' she said, handing out registration cards. Two blonds walked by accompanied by suited Chinese. The taller women flicked back their hair; one adjusted the strap of her handbag with exaggerated care. Their figures pushed against the tight material of their cocktail dresses.

'Lickee, lickee, and I bet they're more than fifty buckee,' Tom murmured.

The receptionist, still smiling, handed Leo an envelope with Wonder World Expeditions in the left corner. He read the message inside.

Leo,

Your guide will meet you on the ferry to Zhaoqing. Tickets enclosed.

You're going to have the trip of your life. I hope your friends know what they are in for!

Take care and look forward to seeing the photos when you get back.

All the best

Mike."

The others looked bored.

'We've got to catch the ferry from Kowloon at eight-thirty ...' Leo looked at his watch, '... seven-and-a-half hours' time.'

'Mr. McLaren,' said the receptionist, smiling and handing back Leo's passport.

'Mr. Bastable,' she said, handing Tom his.

'Mr. Singh-Miller,' she added, and Vib stepped forward.

'Can I get room service for seven?'

'So sorry. Room service start at seven-thirty. Dining room open six-thirty.'

'Great!' Vib said, humping his bag onto his shoulder. 'Room 317. I guess the lifts are still working?'

She nodded, smiling. 'Mr. Stinger, your passport sir,' she called.

Daniel turned back from following Vib and thanked her.

'Well, it looks like it's you and me in 412,' Leo said to Tom.

Their room had a view of Hong Kong. Skyscrapers, like electrified fingers plugged into a black night, competed for supremacy with blue, red and green floodlights. Huge neon billboards flashed their messages across the water, choppy from criss-crossing ferries. Searchlights probed the clouds and, out past the anchored ships, nature's own contribution of lightning on the horizon.

Leo marvelled at the vibrant scene; it seemed hooked up to the world's national grid, absorbing all the power in an orgy of light. 'You should look at this,' he said, glancing back.

Tom was waving a TV remote. 'They should switch off a few things so their bloody TVs work.'

Leo was sure Tom had never been to Hong Kong before – never been outside Europe. Needing a cigarette, he set off for the lounge, pressing a button on the TV as he passed. Immediately, a picture appeared welcoming them, in English, to the Pacific Grand Hotel.

'Hey, how did you do that?' demanded Tom.

The lounge was busy, the bar crowded with different voices in suits and evening wear. Leo ran a hand self-consciously down his jeans and rumpled shirt. He found an exit to the terrace. Plucking at his shirt, he walked out onto a pier. He lit a cigarette, inhaling deeply. The first since leaving London.

Lighters were transferring containers from ships to the acres of dockland on Kowloon. Twenty four-seven must have originated here, he thought.

Leo looked over the handrail at the oily water slopping around the pier. To his left, a man with a fishing rod nodded at him. Leo smiled, finished his cigarette as a couple appeared with their camera. They were both five feet tall and Leo felt a giant. She had an oval face with eyes that were so narrow he could not see the pupils. They giggled as he walked past. Leo wondered what they thought of him. A dishevelled, bad smelling monster, probably.

*****

'Do you have English breakfast?' Tom asked the waitress.

She shook her head and smiled. 'Sorry, only yam cha, very good.'

Vib arrived from the buffet table. 'Try this. I think they call it ha gao.'

Tom scoffed and folded his arms. 'Breakfast ain't fried shrimp.'

Leo put down his chopsticks and finished a small cup of sweetened tea. 'You're in China. Do what the Chinese do.'

'Bollocks! They want tourists. They should cater for their tastes.'

'What? Like we do?'

'Sure, there's a Chinky on every corner, isn't there?'

Leo frowned. 'You telling me, you're not going to try it for the whole two weeks?'

'Yep. I'm not eating this shit. I'll buy Frosties and take them with me.'

Vib raised an eyebrow. 'You seen any milk around here?'

Tom searched the buffet table. He looked back with disgust.

'If you're lucky you'll get condensed milk. Not nice with Frosties,' said Vib, with a smug grin.

'Great!' Tom threw his napkin on the table. 'How did I let you talk me into this?'

Leo glared at him.

Tom laughed quickly, looking away. After a moment, grinning, he said: 'Do you know what the Chinese call someone who's not sticking to their diet?'

Leo shook his head, still pissed off.

'Wai Yu Mun Ching.'

Vib spewed the last bite of his dim sum onto his plate; his eyes watered as he choked. His brown face became puce. He slapped the table until Leo wondered whether he should help.

'It wasn't that funny.' But Leo was unable to stop himself grinning. Vib had an infectious laugh.

They found Daniel in the lounge sitting beside their bags, mobile tight against one ear. Leo heard the quiet patience in Daniel's voice as he explained to Janine that his mother had offered to help with the school run.

'Excuse me. Leo McLaren?'

Leo turned. A young Chinese faced him, black eyes behind black-framed glasses, beneath spiky hair. A slim body, taller than average, wearing a red Wonder World Expeditions t-shirt and knee-length shorts with sandals.

'My name is Jon Yong, your guide. Sorry I was not here last night. My flight from Beijing was cancelled.'

Leo made the introductions. Daniel hurriedly finished his call.

'OK. Must hurry. Ferry only five minutes' walk.'

Leo walked with Jon Yong. A boy came up with a tray of cigarettes. He was tempted to stock up but it was too difficult to get to his money belt. 'Your English is very good, Jon Yong,' said Leo.

'Thank you. Four years at university in London.'

'Studying English?'

Jon Yong looked at him and smiled uncertainly. 'I learnt English in Beijing school. I studied Economics in London.'

They joined a mass of people flowing down the wooden ramp. The ferry dock, underneath the promenade, looked like a watery, underground car park.

'Tourism very important in China. Opportunity to make lots of money.' Jon Yong had to shout to be heard above the voices around them. They reached a barrier where a man with a green-banded cap and an ironed blue uniform demanded to see their tickets. He gave Jon Yong's a perfunctory glance but glared at Leo before looking down at his ticket. After an exaggerated time he waved him through.

'Lot of bureaucracy in China,' Jon Yong said with an apologetic grin.

'But a lot of opportunity, right?'

'Yes, China very important place now.'

'Is that the rest of our group?'

Jon Yong stood on his toes. He shrugged. 'Maybe.'

'How many in the group?'

Jon Yong looked down at his paper. 'Eleven, including your friends.' He stood on his toes again. 'Ah so, I see Mr. Wang.'

Leo glanced behind; it was like flotsam on a river of black bobbing hair. Vib was talking earnestly to Daniel - Tom nodded in Leo's direction, scowling as a pigeon dived across his face.

'First time in China, Leo?'

'I came to Hong Kong when I was eighteen.'

'Hong Kong was not China ... then,' Jon Yong said emphatically. 'Hong Kong is like a diamond ring, beautiful, exciting, but does not tell you anything about who is wearing it.'

The crowd thinned as people split from the line to board a ferry for Macao. Jon Yong corralled the group into a space away from the steady flow of travellers. Leo glanced at the others in the party: five women, two men. The girl on the end immediately caught his attention. Beautiful combination of western and Asian. Her dark, oval eyes focused on him, and he smiled. The corners of her lips twitched in reply.

'OK. We take ferry on Xijiang River to Zhaoqing. Four hours. Check you have tickets and passports.'

They received a few curious glances from the other passengers. Daniel in particular. His blue eyes, as fierce as acetylene torch flames, and collar-length blond hair. Two rarities in the world they were now travelling. Daniel appeared oblivious to the stares.

'What's the matter?' Leo nudged Vib, nodding at Daniel.

'Family troubles. Janine wasn't happy about him coming.'

'Oh,' said Leo quietly. 'I thought everything was OK.'

Vib opened his Loaded magazine, turning to a story on Jordan. 'You know Janine, she says one thing '

'What about Janine?' Daniel interjected, opening an eye.

'Vib was saying you're having trouble,' Leo said.

'Oh ... usual shit,' Daniel replied, yawning.

Leo looked concerned. 'Well, I'm sorry if she's giving you trouble.'

'It'll be fine,' Daniel said, closing his eyes.

Tom introduced himself to the girl in front. She sounded Australian when she told him her name: Hilary Foster. A blond bob framed a pointed face. Her small mouth looked prone to turn down at the corners above a pink knobbly chin. Her youthful smile was bright and cheerful.

Tom began telling her about their landing.

The ferry vibrated with acceleration. They passed anchored container ships with rafts of lighters alongside; and dhows and Chinese junks, their ancient design in elegant contrast to the modern slabs of steel. Tugs manoeuvred a tanker towards the oil terminal on Kowloon. The scene stretched as far as Leo could see. The skyscrapers were shrouded in cloud. It was not the photograph he had hoped for.

Daniel snored, and Vib's head lolled forward; a picture of Jordan's breasts slipped between his legs to the floor.

The vibration of the ferry eased. A foghorn. The high, rust-stained bow of a freighter appeared. A tumbling wave fell from a scarred stem.

Leo watched Tom and Hilary as they went forward to join the others gathered near a woman selling tea and sweet rolls.

'Looks like they're out for the count,' a voice said in front of him.

Leo glanced up at the man leaning on the back of his seat. 'The name's Zachary – Zachary Foster. That's my sister your friend's talking to.'

'Leo McLaren.'

They shook hands.

Zachary had to be in his sixties. Thin silvery hair, thick glasses and heavy lines set in an intelligent and kind pattern on a lean face

'Where you from, Zachary?'

'Sydney. Melbourne originally. That's where my sister still lives and her friend Kate – over there.'

Leo raised himself slightly in his seat so he could see the group. Another blond, taller, younger and much more attractive than Hilary.

'You all from England?' asked Zachary.

Leo nodded. 'Known each other over twenty years.'

'Really!' said Zachary. Leo grinned.

'That's wonderful. Have you ever been to China before?'

'Hong Kong ...'

'Really!'

'... but I've been told that's not China.'

'Wonderful!' Zachary smiled and looked out of the window.

'Not quite what I imagined,' Leo said, looking at the fog.

'Wonderful! I'm going to get a cup of tea.'

Leo watched him walk down the aisles. Zachary walked with a limp and carried his right shoulder higher than the other. He wore a white vest and tight shorts. His thin tanned legs looked like a couple of Twiglets.

'What the hell's he on?' said Vib, alongside Leo, as he took in Zachary's departure. Some of the Chinese passengers giggled.

'I don't know, but I can't see him surviving the two weeks.'

'Really!' Vib replied, mimicking Zachary's Australian accent.

Leo nodded out the window. 'China! A sixth of the world's population – 1.3 billion people – and I can't see a bloody thing.'

Unlike Hong Kong, China was reluctant to reveal itself. As Jon Yong had sternly told Leo: Hong Kong was not China.

*****

The bustling dockside at Zhaoqing. The fog had lifted

At the small, corrugated building, the customs official seemed satisfied and stamped each visa with a bang. Leo received Tom's passport and Tom was given Zachary's – neither thought it very funny.

Jon Yong shrugged. 'You look the same,' he said, leading the way out to the minibus.

'Marvellous!' Tom grunted, humping his bag onto his shoulder. 'I've been in this country five minutes and I've already aged thirty years!'

At the minibus, Jon Yong introduced them to Mr. Wang, who beamed and bobbed his head as they handed over their luggage. The three Australians sat in the back; a man and a women, neither of whom had said anything on the ferry, sat together; across the aisle, the two younger women. The one with dark glossy hair, was turned in her seat and talking to Hilary Foster. Mr. Wang clambered aboard and sat heavily next to Leo. He had a round pock-marked face, and one incisor missing. 'All ready to go, Mr. Wang?' Leo asked.

Mr. Wang nodded enthusiastically.

'He doesn't speak English,' Jon Yong explained.

The minibus lurched forward. They followed traffic through nondescript buildings of yellow brick and flat roofs. The road filled with commercial vehicles, billowing black smoke as they weaved between the larger potholes, their canvas backs like treeless islands in the sea of bicycles and mopeds. With the occasional red traffic light, a hierarchy of queuing ensued: the bicycles near the verge, the commercial vehicles and buses towards the centre, and the gaps filled with the popping mopeds. As the lights changed, all would surge forward, the various speeds separating the types of transport, like different densities of material settling in a beaker of water.

There were few private cars, Leo realised, which meant that nearly everyone was out in the open, creating a vibrancy and interaction; people talked to each other at traffic lights, or yelled a word of greeting as they passed. Girls sitting on the backs of scooters engaged in shouted conversations with their boyfriends; everywhere there was noise. An elegantly dressed woman in a white business suit, knees together, glided through the traffic on a vivid yellow scooter; the beep of her horn seemed to cut through the noise as she effortlessly found a path through the throng and disappeared down an alley, bridged with a netting of telephone and power lines.

'Madness, absolute bloody madness,' said Daniel.

Leo looked over. Daniel was reading from a crumpled copy of The Times bought at Heathrow.

'This celebrity chef thing and schools makes me mad. What's his name ... ?' Daniel looked at Vib. 'You know, the one from Essex?'

'Jamie Oliver,' Vib yawned.

'Yeah. He's got the schools coming up with things like chicken salad wraps and goat's cheese thingamajigs. In my day it used to be beans, pie and chips.' Daniel dropped the paper into his lap.

'My mum was such a crap cook, I couldn't wait to get back to school meals,' said Vib.

'Well, at your school they probably had silver service,' Daniel replied, pulling a face. 'My point is, don't give the little bastards a choice.'

'That's what you do in your restaurants, isn't it?' Leo said.

'Very funny.' Daniel rolled the newspaper and slapped it over Leo's head.

The centre of Zhaoqing bordered a lake with a clutch of small high-rise buildings. 'So much for leaving the West behind.' Leo looked up at the giant yellow arches.

'That's the best sight I've seen all day,' Tom enthused. 'At least I know where I can get a decent breakfast. Provided they haven't switched the Egg McMuffin with a sodding McDim Sum!'

Leo glanced at Jon Yong, but his expression remained neutral.

Tom caught Leo's glance and nudged Jon Yong. 'Hey Jon Jon, do they serve Egg McMuffin?' he asked loudly.

Jon Yong slowly turned and looked to where Tom was pointing. There was a crowd of young people outside, dressed in jeans and t-shirts; some of the girls looked as if they were going into a nightclub; using their scooters like bar stools as they ate from polystyrene containers. 'Not many eggs in China. I have never been there. For young people only.'

'Young! You have to be all of twenty, Jon Jon,' Tom said, laughing.

Jon Yong looked ahead, his face expressionless. 'I am twenty-five. They are all coolies,' he replied with a slight grin.

'I thought coolie was a hat,' said Leo, shaking his head at Tom to prevent any further embarrassing comments.

Jon Yong took off his glasses and cleaned the lenses with the end of his t-shirt. 'In 1800's, when living in China was very difficult because of war, famine and many floods, the British tried to help us by importing opium.' He adjusted his glasses and stared impassively at Leo. 'You beat us in the Opium Wars and then gold was discovered near San Francisco and many Chinese escaped, mainly from Kuangtung province. But most did not find gold. They became labourers, building the railways. Coolie is a name for those slaves and we now use the name as ...' Jon Yong looked down at his hands. '... as fun ...' he added. 'For people who need to eat western food and buy western clothes ... slave to western fashion, yes?'

Leo nodded uncertainly.

'So are you a coolie for wearing jeans and a t-shirt?' Tom sneered.

'These are made in China,' said Jon Yong, plucking at his t-shirt proudly.

'As are most things,' Leo interjected, 'so I guess we've all become coolies to China.'

Jon Yong smiled. 'At least we are selling you something more useful than opium, yes?'

Leo nodded. Jon Yong was not your typical, bubbly tour guide.

The road jinked from the shore, diverting for expensive western-style housing, protected by thick walls and heavy gates. Black limousines stood in the driveways; women in bamboo hats bent over manicured flowerbeds.

Before the road started to wind up to the jagged peaks, the driver turned right and bought them back to the lakeside and an expanse of paved courtyard. A fountain sprayed water in front of a two-storey building, painted pale yellow.

'Hey Leo, I thought you said this was going to be five star all the way!' said Vib, clambering past him. 'This looks like a Travel Lodge!'

'Can I call the UK from here?' Daniel asked Jon Yong.

Leo had to admit it looked utilitarian. He was the last off the minibus, eventually joining the group at a deserted front desk. Through cracked glass doors, they could see a second courtyard, infested with weeds. Mr. Wang shuffled in and out with their bags. When he had made a neat pile behind them, blocking their escape, he said something to Jon Yong and left.

'He say, they are having staff problems,' Jon Yong explained.

Silence. Even Tom was quiet. Leo felt dejected. They had been travelling for two days and this was their first, official stop.

'How about some service round here?' one of the Americans muttered.

Jon Yong disappeared and returned moments later with a smiling older woman, who bowed, handing keys to Jon Yong.

They followed along a plain tiled corridor. At each door, Jon Yong stopped and handed a key to whoever was closest. 'Wonderful!' said Zachary before leaping into his room, pulling his wheelie-case behind him.

'There's no bloody TV,' grumbled Tom, as he and Leo entered the room they were to share. He dumped his bag and rushed into the bathroom. 'Sodding chinky food.'

Leo grimaced. Pushed back the sliding doors, he stepped onto a narrow balcony. Below, a man was sweeping with a witch's broom. To the right, an outside bar stood beneath a thatched roof. Juniper, ficus and maple trees crowded the shoreline. On the opposite shore were the buildings of Zhaoqing. Occasional traffic noise could be heard above the chirrup of the birds below.

His cigarette burnt Leo's throat. He coughed and the man sweeping looked up, smiled and waved. Leo waved back, feeling the sweat drip down his arm. Needing a shower, he stubbed the cigarette into an abandoned cup. Tom was still on the toilet. Leo stretched out on a single bed, hands behind his head. The ceiling needed a coat of paint. But Leo liked the room. It had none of the air-conditioned; coach tour, anesthetised rubbish. He closed his eyes, trying to shut out the noise from Tom.

When Leo opened them, he felt momentary panic. He sat up, searching the unfamiliar surroundings until his memory caught up and he fell back on the bed with a groan. Then, becoming conscious of conversation and bursts of laughter, he sat up and clambered off the bed. 'Shit!' he stubbed a toe out onto the balcony. Across the lake, Zhaoqing shimmered. The Wonder World group sat around a large circular table, covered with bottles. The thatched roof bar was playing a Dido track. Annoyed, Leo watched Daniel get up from the table and walk to the bar.

Why had Tom not woken him? He tripped over the door sill, stubbing his toe again. 'Shit, shit, shit!'

The single bulb in the bathroom cast deeper shadows around Leo's red-rimmed eyes. His skin was greasy from sweat and he noticed a pimple on his nose in the discoloured mirror. 'You handsome bugger!'

The shower gurgled and finally a weak stream of tepid water fell from the rusty nozzle.

'Hey, it's Sleeping Beauty!' Vib shouted.

'Thanks for waking me, Tom.' Leo punched him lightly on the shoulder.

There was laughter and Leo felt uncomfortable, like a gatecrasher.

'You were snoring like a steam train. We've had to tell the barman to turn the music up,' said Tom, laughing loudly with the others.

'I'll go get a beer,' said Leo. 'Anyone else need one?'

'I'll give you a hand,' said the American man.

'What's everyone having?' Leo asked, when they got to the bar.

'Tsingtao, it's all they've got,' the man answered without smiling.

The barman was already pulling bottles of the Chinese beer from the fridge as Leo held up his fingers, indicating ten, and then one more.

'I'm Leo McLaren,' Leo said, holding out his hand.

'Taurean Dyott,' the man replied, shaking hands. His grip was strong, his hand engulfing Leo's. Well-defined muscle filled his Washington Redskins t-shirt. He was at least three inches taller than Leo, with a neat goatee and deep-set dark eyes. 'And my girlfriend back there is Tina Butcher; we're from Washington ...' He pointed at his t-shirt. '... DC, not the state.'

Leo nodded, handing over Chinese yuan until the barman bowed to show he had enough.

'That's about fifty cents a beer, cool huh?' said Taurean.

Leo found a chair and squeezed in between Vib and the girl with the long glossy, hair. 'Hi, I'm Leo.'

'Ah, the Fourth Musketeer,' she laughed, clinking the neck of her bottle with his. Leo smiled and looked at Vib, grinning widely next to him.

'I've explained to Emma, that we're on a final crusade, the four of us.' Vib belched softly. 'Pardon me ... a crusade to fight back the forties,' he shouted, rising to his feet and thrusting his bottle in the air.

'Seems a bit premature,' said Leo, although no-one was listening.

As one, the group stood and saluted with their bottles. 'All for one and no-one for forty!'

When the girl had stopped laughing she held out her hand. 'I'm Emma Seto and this ...' she said, turning and putting her arm round her friend's shoulder, '... is Madison Prowle.'

Leo leant across Emma and shook Madison's hand. A determined look greeted him behind square-framed glasses. A broad nose with flared nostrils. Her black skin was a startling contrast to her blue eyes. 'Where're you from?' Leo asked.

'They're New Yoikers,' Vib interrupted. 'OK everyone, I have a game,' he said loudly getting to his feet and sending his chair crashing backwards. 'Oops ... now listen, it's complicated ...' Tom and Daniel groaned in unison. Leo decided he needed another beer.

'Ah, Jon Jon, come and join us,' Vib called, spying their guide walking towards the bar.

Jon Yong obediently came over.

'Now, this game is going to help us all remember our names, because if you're anything like me you're bloody hopeless at it. I'll start by putting my hands up like this ...'

There was a general look of confusion Leo thought when he returned.

'Leo felt light-headed as the game descended into chaos. He noted Tina Butcher's black, very athletic, body in a white t-shirt that expanded over large breasts, sweeping to a narrow waist – and the blond hair, fashionably straight, of Hilary Foster's friend, Kate McKissen. She had a soft Australian accent.

'If Santa Clause, a smart Aussie and a dumb blond were in a room, and you tossed in a hundred dollar note, who would grab it first?' Tom asked, beaming round the table.

Leo glanced at Kate and Hilary.

Vib turned to Tom. 'I dunno, who?'

'The blond ... the other two don't exist.'

A general snigger before Kate slapped the table. 'Well, that proves what we know about Pommie men, doesn't it Hilary?'

'You mean, their sense of humour is as bad as their personal hygiene!' Hilary answered, her eyebrows arched.

They high-fived. 'You boys stink!'

'Wonderful!' Zachary said, beaming.

Jon Yong jumped to his feet. 'I get beer.' Daniel said he would help.

The four Americans were looking at the table top.

'OK, what's grey, eats fish and lives in Washington ... ?' said Tom, '... DC,' he added, looking pointedly at Taurean.

Leo leant back in his chair, shaking his head. He glanced at Taurean who stared blankly at Tom, his mouth a thin line. Tina looked at her boyfriend uncertainly and then returned her gaze to the table.

'I don't know, Tom, why don't you tell us,' said Taurean eventually, the muscles in his jaw bunching.

'The Presidential Seal!' answered Tom.

Taurean held Tom's gaze, his expression neutral, for a full five seconds. Then his shoulders started to shake and when the laugh arrived, it was surprisingly infectious.

Chapter 6

Hu Lee wore a baseball cap low over his eyes \- presented to him by Honda when he attended the last Chinese Grand Prix as their guest - recognition of his help in facilitating the purchase of land for their new factory. He filled with pride as he remembered opening the invitation in the office; the admiring looks from his colleagues. Imagine, the superior Japanese, saying 'thank you' to a Chinese for permission to manufacture in his country!

Now, he was about to betray that country.

Hu Lee looked behind him. Pedestrians weaved along the packed pavement. It was impossible to tell if he was being followed.

He had substituted his spectacles for contact lenses and wore sunglasses, despite it being a typical overcast Shanghai day.

Hu Lee turned onto a quieter stretch, by the river, away from the main flow of people, taking the route Sarah J had given him on the phone – presumably so they could check if he was being followed.

He stopped to look down at the polluted water, absently watching gulls squabble over a dead animal floating in the rubbish. He glanced behind him: people on bikes, tourists, a street cleaner; a vendor pushing a cart. Nothing out of the ordinary.

Hu Lee squared his shoulders, shaking away the feeling of dread. He had made his decision. The Trade Ministry deserved what was about to happen to them. Sarah J had assured him there was nothing to worry about.

He found the stone seating, with images of downtown office buildings carved into the seat backs – a reflection in stone of the burgeoning Chinese economy.

Pulling his jacket around him, he pushed the tie to his collar, crossed his legs, and then uncrossed them, nervously brushing his trousers. He opened the newspaper he had brought with him, aware his hands were shaking.

'Hello Hu Lee,' a voice said quietly beside him.

Hu Lee dropped the paper. He had not heard anyone approach. 'Sarah J,' he said breathlessly. She wore running gear, headphones around her neck, hair pushed up into a Nike cap.

Sarah J smiled. Straight white teeth, as he remembered - her lips a glossy red. 'Calm down Hu Lee, everything is going to be fine.'

He found her American-accented Chinese as intoxicating as her body. He nodded quickly, disappointed that her baggy clothing hid the outline of her figure. He wondered if they would have time to go to a hotel room before he left for Hong Kong. He looked at his watch. There was time.

'You have the information?' Sarah J asked.

Hu Lee nodded again, pushing his sunglasses up his nose.

'Put the disk in the newspaper, leave the paper and walk away.' Sarah J looked out over river.

No hotel, Hu Lee thought sadly, slipping the CD from his jacket pocket into the folds of the newspaper.

Sarah J put on her headphones, her head bobbing as if to music. 'Is it encrypted?' she asked.

'Yes,' Hu Lee replied, not sure whether he should look at her.

'What is the encryption key?'

'I will tell you when I am in San Francisco.' Hu Lee crossed his arms tightly.

'That's not very trusting.' Sarah J smiled tightly, still looking out over the water.

'I am risking my life. I need guarantees.'

Sarah J looked at him from the corner of her eyes. After a while she nodded. 'OK. When you get to the airport go to the Avis car rental counter. Ask them for a package in the name of Hue Li.' She spelt it for him. 'Inside you will find your tickets to the States, another passport and further instructions.'

'Why can you not give me everything now?'

Sarah J got up with the newspaper. 'This is how we do things, Hu Lee. Have a nice trip. Someone will be in contact with you when you arrive in San Francisco.' She jogged off.

That was it. He was officially a traitor. Hu Lee looked around nervously, wiping his hands on his trousers. Sarah J had disappeared towards the road.

He got to his feet and, dispiritedly, made his way towards the taxi line

*****

Sarah J climbed into the back of the waiting Nissan. The driver looked at her briefly before pulling out into the traffic. She slid the laptop over to her, put the CD into the drive and downloaded the file. It was certainly encrypted. She sent it attached in an e-mail to the address she had been given at The Pentagon. They might be able to open it without the key; if not, they would have to wait for Hu Lee's arrival. She retrieved the disk. It would make its own way out of China, as back-up in case the e-mailed copy became corrupted.

A black Mercedes followed the Nissan at a discrete distance.

Chapter 7

There was no laughter the following morning. Hung-over, they looked unenthusiastically at their breakfast noodles, coconut snowballs, dim sum and green tea.

Jon Yong chatted loudly during the 20-minute drive back into Zhaoqing. They turned right from the Pagoda and headed up Main Street; flowers filled the central divide and lanterns and banners hung from street lights.

'Where's the goddam air conditioning?' Taurean moaned.

'Wonderful colours!' Zachary clicked away with his throw-away Kodak.

Shop merchandise spilled onto the pavement in a hectic display of carpets, TVs, pyramids of fresh oranges and melons, baskets of spices and herbs, scooters and racks of clothes. Halfway down an alley they turned through an arch into a cobbled courtyard.

Tom groaned.

Leo followed Emma, her slim body in tight thigh-length shorts. Her braided hair hung to the middle of her back.

They stood uncertainly in the oppressive courtyard. Across the cobbles, sunlight reflected off mountain bikes.

Jon Yong exchanged greetings with men from the workshop. He turned and faced his entourage like a General addressing his troops. 'These for ladies and these for men. They ...' Jon Yong indicated the men next to him, '... will help make adjustments.'

Taurean and Tina were the first, eager to add China to their list of Vietnam and Cambodia cycling tours. They looked the part: Bell Avanti crash helmets, Nike cycling shoes, Oakley glasses and matching Fox designer wear in orange – like a team from the Tour de France.

The Australian women could have been going to the beach, Kate in a bikini top and black football shorts.

Zachary wrestled a bike free as if he were coaxing a recalcitrant horse from its box. His pudding-shaped cycle helmet slipped down his forehead with the effort.

Two bikes left. Leo looked at Tom. 'You ready? Thirty miles a day for the next ten?'

Tom pulled a face. 'Must've been off my head.'

Leo frowned. Tom had not bothered buying cycling shorts. A cotton Hawaiian shirt hung outside his knee-length combats. His stomach pushed through an unfastened button.

'You look like that guy from Hawaii Five-O.'

'Piss off Darth Vader,' Tom selected a red Trail Blazer.

Leo adjusted his Fox Flite full-faced helmet.

'Christ, Leo,' said Kate, looking over at him. 'Aren't you a bit old for taking all this so seriously?'

'I bike back home. I've seen what damage coming off one of these things can do.'

'Oh, so you don't just have bad balance?'

'No...' Leo grinned, 'OK, I only took my stabilisers off last week and mother was a bit worried.'

Kate wheeled her bike over. 'As you're so experienced Leo, I'd feel a lot safer if you'd check out my equipment before we left.'

Leo knelt down. 'Well let's see...your front suspension arms are nice and firm, no slack there...your rear's all attached correctly...plenty of tread left for many miles of fun...' he stood, 'I'd say you're good to go.'

Zachary wobbled past, brake levers facing him. The Chinese were nudging and pointing.

Leo ran out to meet him. 'Zachary, your handlebars are arse about face!' Leo grabbed the man's wiry body and pulled him to a stop.

'You old twit,' Hilary shouted at her brother.

'Oh ... I wondered why I couldn't stop,' Zachary said as Leo turned the handlebars through 180 degrees. 'That's better – wonderful!' exclaimed Zachary as he wobbled off. 'Thank you, um ... Tom.'

Half-an-hour later, Jon Yong, emerged from the doorway of the shop, wheeling his bike. 'OK. You have maps for each day; you go your speed, not race. Do not pass minibus. Mr. Wang will follow with truck. So if you have flat tyre or anything breaks, wait for him.'

'How often do you do this trip?' Daniel asked, as Jon Yong wheeled his bike past.

'Very often,' he replied.

Tom's front wheel caught between two raised stones and he stumbled sideways. He leapt off, bumping Hilary, and his bike fell to the ground. 'Bollocks!'

'What's the difference between two intelligent blond Aussies and an overweight Pom?' Kate said loudly.

'Let me see... their sense of balance is like their humour...it stinks?' Hilary asked.

Kate raised an eyebrow, and thought for a moment. 'Could be, could be.' They rode after the others.

Leo picked up his friend's bike. Tom's scowl deepened. 'I'm sorry arse, for what I'm about to do to you,' he said, swinging his leg over the crossbar. 'On the other hand, maybe this saddle will back up this crap Chinese food.'

They joined the river of Chinese on single-geared, back pedal braking, basic transports. Their designer wear stood out like blooms on a dull plant. The locals stared; girls giggled.

Jon Yong cycled obliviously through the maze of streets, the traffic lights catching the unwary behind him. They waited, their bikes corralled against the stream of traffic – an island of tall, brightly-coloured foreigners. Zachary caused the most problems. His attention wandered. Only his sister's constant warnings prevented him colliding with the traffic.

They faded from the westernised centre to the crowded, poorer parts: dirt roads, dogs and small children playing under the string-vest shadows of power cables and telephone lines. Some houses were corrugated sheds, but they all had satellite dishes clinging to flimsy roofs. On the outskirts were featureless tower blocks and half-built warehouses, chocked with weeds.

Leo accompanied Tom, who was already suffering.

'Change down, you're pedalling too quickly,' said Leo, watching his wind-milling legs.

'Piss off,' Tom grunted, swerving to avoid a pothole, causing a moped driver to beep excitedly. 'Yeah, you piss off too!'

Tom rode with a straight back, arms locked to relieve pressure on the front of the saddle.

They joined a cycle lane beside a main road. Trucks thundered by. The breeze, at first a welcome relief from the stale heat of the city, turned into a headwind. Sudden rain took Leo by surprise. His helmet restricted his vision. He had not seen the sky darken; he had been concentrating on Tom's bike, inches from his. Leo looked ahead. The others had disappeared.

Tom did not brake but was simply blown to a stop. His chest and stomach were red from sunburn, and now the stinging rain. 'This is bollocks,' he shouted above the traffic. He got off his bike and walked it towards the back-up truck, signalling Mr. Wang. They had covered ten kilometres.

Leo had pleaded with Tom to come out with him on his Sunday rides. But Tom had always been busy. Disappointed, Leo rode away, pumping his legs to get his circulation working.

He caught up with Zachary, Hilary and Kate at a junction. On the other side, Daniel and Vib, Emma and Madison cycled off along another straight stretch of bike lane. There was no sign of Taurean and Tina, or Jon Yong.

'Talk about a baptism in fire,' Hilary shouted.

'Not exactly what I imagined,' Leo panted, smiling at Zachary who wore a yellow poncho which covered him and the handlebars. His glasses were misted on the inside and his helmet had slid to one side. He beamed at Leo when he asked how he was doing.

'Where's your mate?' Kate said.

'In the truck.'

'That's ten bucks you owe me, Hilly,' said Kate.

'You took bets?' Leo said.

'Yep, Hilly thought Emma because the rain would be ruining her make-up.'

Leo didn't say anything.

'Can you hear me inside that thing?' she asked.

He looked at her and nodded. Strands of blond hair had stuck to her forehead. Drops of water hung from her nose and chin. The thin material of her kagool outlined the swell of her breasts.

'What brings you out to sunny China?' Leo asked.

Kate wiped water from her eyes. 'Hilary.'

'Been friends long?' It was an effort to be heard over the traffic.

'No. Met through the work I do ... about two years ago ... her brother's crazy, don't you think?'

Leo looked ahead at Zachary, his skinny legs turning evenly under the cone of yellow plastic. 'How old is he?'

'Sixty-three next August.'

The track angled away from the road and down a quiet tree-lined avenue. The rain stopped. Overhead, through the swaying branches, Leo could see racing clouds and brief shafts of sunlight. The hills around them were still shrouded in mist.

'Jon Yong said this is the tail-end of a typhoon.' Kate was still shouting. 'Hit the coast several hundred miles north,' she finished quietly.

'Don't tell Tom. He'll be on the first plane home, if he isn't already,' said Leo.

They cycled four-abreast.

'Where did you guys meet?' Kate asked.

Leo changed gear. 'Christ, it's been so long I can't really remember.'

'You don't appear that close,' said Hilary.

'That's a shame,' he replied.

'So this is a male thing? A re-bonding trip? Naked men in the woods beating themselves with sticks ... that sort of thing?' Hilary enquired.

'No ... well, not really,' Leo braked to allow an old man to pass.

'You're over thirty, right?' Kate said.

Leo laughed. 'Yep ... and your point is?'

'Because lads' holidays are something you do in your teens or early-twenties. Don't you have a wife?'

'Nope,' Leo answered. 'But what about you? You're here on a girl's holiday?'

'Nah, we're here to make sure my brother doesn't crash into the side of any vehicles!' said Hilary.

'So, are any of you married?' Kate asked.

'Tom and Daniel are, with kids. In fact, I think Tom's eldest might be five now.'

'You don't know?' said Hilary.

'We don't really get involved. The women get a bit jealous.'

'What a surprise, Leo,' Kate remarked, taking off her cap and shaking out her hair. She hooked the cap on the end of her handlebar. 'No woman's going to accept that kind of competition.'

'Competition? It's just a fully balanced and healthy life.'

The girls laughed. 'Bollocks, Leo, you sound like a cereal commercial. It sends out a message that you haven't grown up yet. There's nothing scarier to a woman. What're you going to be like when you're forty! I bet you drive a convertible, don't you?' Hilary teased

Leo grinned.

'Oh no, that's right, you're a bloody racing driver, aren't you?'

'Maybe I'm a big kid. But when I look around at the sour-faced gits of the same age, I think I'll stick to who I am.'

'Wonderful!' Zachary said.

The quartet cycled down a narrow lane to a town of plain white-painted buildings with Mount Dinghu behind, its forested flanks swathed in fast-moving cloud.

They found the rest of the group sitting on the concrete steps leading up to a restaurant overlooking the main square. Children, with snotty noses and dirty knees, stood under one of the trees that ringed the square.

Vib sat next to Emma. She giggled at something he said 'What kept you, Leo? We've been here half-an-hour.' Vib shook his head, sucking in breath. 'I don't know whether you're going to make it... and I thought with that helmet ... the force would be with you!'

Leo took off the helmet, laughing with the rest of them. 'No, I was just making sure Chewbacca here was alright.'

Tom stood up abruptly. 'I don't need your help, Leo, alright? Stop being such an old woman.' He walked into the restaurant.

Vib looked around at the others in the silence and then slapped his knees. 'Right then, I guess it's time to eat.'

Leo twirled his helmet in his hand and smiled at the children. A little girl in a pink t-shirt giggled as she sucked on two fingers. She twirled away to hide behind a taller boy who continued to stare with wide brown eyes.

The restaurant was empty. They occupied a circular table in the middle. 'What do we have here?' Taurean asked, leaning forward and suspiciously prodding the dish nearest him. Tina started to ladle rice onto her plate.

'Good fish restaurant. Steamed tilapia fish, fish in soy sauce, five willow fish ...' Jon Yong replied.

'What's this?' Taurean interrupted, stabbing another dish.

Jon Yong turned to the hovering owner of the restaurant and gestured at the dish. 'Rice field eel with seasonal vegetable – his special dish.'

Taurean sat back with a look of dismay. 'Field eel huh, that's not going to give me a whole lot of energy.'

'Try it,' Jon Yong said patiently. 'Very good. Very healthy.'

'No wonder you guys don't grow very high,' Taurean muttered, before leaning forward and slopping some chow mien onto his plate.

Leo found it quite hard to de-bone a fish with chopsticks. He watched Jon Yong suck the meat from the bones and attempted to do the same – and nearly choked on the sharp mouthful.

'Take practice ... but very tasty.' Jon Yong smiled at him.

'Is it true that in South China, you eat everything that has four legs except a table, and anything that has two wings except a plane?' Taurean sniggered but attacked his noodles with vigour when no one joined him.

'This much better than McDonalds,' Jon Yong said. Leo was impressed that he did not appear to be offended.

'Yeah, right.' Taurean slurped at his noodles.

Tina's short black hair was tightly braided with coloured beads. Her dark skin was lustrous and she had clear, intelligent eyes. 'So, how did you two meet?' Leo asked, taking a bite of melon.

'Through work,' she said. 'Taurean runs the department. We just kinda got it together, didn't we?' she added, reaching for his hand.

He did not return the gesture.

'So what do you do?' Leo pressed.

'Oh, we don't do anything exciting.' She had a southern accent. 'It's just a big insurance company in DC.'

'OK,' Leo continued, trying to remain interested. 'So what do you do for fun?'

'Insurance can be fun,' Taurean said, pulling several bottles of pills from his backpack.

'Sure,' said Leo quickly. 'I didn't mean that, just, you know ...' He could feel the others around the table watching.

'No, I don't know, Leo, what do you mean? Is what you do so much more fun? Are you saying that just because we're in insurance, we're boring people? What?'

'What's in those bottles, Taurean?' Kate cut in loudly from the other side of the table.

His gaze remained on Leo for a moment longer before flitting to Kate and then down to the plain white bottles in front of him. 'Vitamin supplements. This one here is Vitamin C, this one D and E and this one ... potassium.'

'You're kidding! Isn't that the stuff that exploded with a blue flame?' Kate asked.

'Maybe,' Taurean replied, glaring at the grinning faces, 'but potassium actually regulates water balance and assists recuperative powers. It gives the muscles more energy ...'

'Although that hasn't been proven,' Tina interrupted.

Taurean scowled. 'It also helps regulate blood pressure and heart function.'

'Wow, you're a regular chemistry set, Taurean,' said Kate, getting up with the others. 'You're going to be rattling over all those bumps out there. You'll have Mr. Wang worried his bike's falling apart!'

Leo remained seated while they filed outside. He felt at odds, out of sync. A hand rested on his shoulder.

Kate smiled down at him. She had very green eyes. Her hair was swept back behind her ears with her sunglasses as a headband. 'Don't let the TTs get you down.'

'The TTs?' Leo queried, getting up.

'Yeah, Tina and Taurean, get it? Racing off like TT racers, with their potassium fuel and "insurance is fun" attitude. Let them get on with it.'

Leo laughed. 'I think I'll stay away from anyone whose name begins with T for a while!'

Chapter 8

Hu Lee glanced ahead. The taxi was speeding along a deserted section of new dual-carriageway towards the airport. Hue Li ... Hue Li ... Hue Li ... that was who he was now. He had gone from a Cantonese to a Mandarin transliteration and a western forename, which would be more acceptable in San Francisco. There were billions of surnames in China, each passed through the generations from father to son, but only a few first names. He would have to get used to introducing himself as Hue, rather than Lee.

Hue Li rubbed his hands nervously on his trousers.

At Shanghai airport, he hurried to the Avis counter, relieved when the smiling girl handed him a package. Inside was an American passport. His hands shook when he looked at his picture together with his new name. Two boarding cards: one for a China Airlines flight to Hong Kong – he checked his watch – leaving in two hours, and the other for American Airlines to San Francisco. There was also a letter from Sarah J with instructions for when he got to the US. He used his finger to follow the English. A Federal Agent would meet him and hand him a driving licence, social security number and an address where he could stay until he found a job and his own accommodation.

She had put a kiss after her name. Hue Li had a sudden image of her body – and deep regret that he would never see her again. He sat, resting his head, feeling weak with relief. It was over. He was on his way to a new life.

'Hi. You Ok?'

Hue Li bolted upright. The girl from the Avis counter was sitting next to him.

'I ... was resting ... very tired.' He smiled weakly, the use of English, alien.

She had a round face with a goofy grin. 'I've been instructed to ask for a key?... encryption key?'

Hue Li shook his head vigorously, looking around the crowded terminal. 'When I arrive San Francisco, yes.'

'Oh,' the girl shrugged. 'Well, I'm just messenger, right?'

Hue Li nodded, feeling sick.

'OK. remember, when you get to America, don't say to Homeland Security that you are being met by a Federal Agent. OK?'

Hue Li frowned.

'The US Government cannot be seen to be helping you,' she added slowly. 'Passport...' she tapped his travel documents, 'untraceable, paid in cash so if you say anything it will be ... difficult for you and they may send you back.' She looked for a sign that he understood.

Hue Li nodded quickly, not trusting himself to speak.

She sighed, her teeth resting on her top lip. 'OK...' she reached inside her Avis jacket and handed him another plastic wallet. 'First National Bank details, your Visa card, cheque book and direct debit card.'

Hue Li took the Avis wallet. He wondered if the $200,000 would be in the account.

'You OK?'

'Very tired,' he said.

The Avis girl gave him an understanding smile, patted him on the knee and left.

Hue Li felt his eyes grow heavy, pulled his small overnight bag across the seat and laid it on his lap, his fingers clenching the strap. His shirt was damp with sweat. No regrets, he tried to tell himself sternly to stop his hands shaking. China had done nothing for him. His parents had collapsed within days of each other after a lifetime of crippling hardship working for a toy manufacturer in south Beijing; an orphan at ten, with no brothers or sisters because the State had demanded he remained an only child. An indifferent education; only the intervention of a well-meaning aunt had saved him from the factories, giving enough money for him to survive university and then a move into civil service. Hue Li got to his feet. It was time to board. He needed to stop thinking, quell the feelings of pride he had felt then – part of the new generation, responsible for converting the lumbering agricultural giant into the world's next super power.

Thirty minutes to departure, Hue Li hurried forward, sidestepping at the last moment to the line for foreign nationals. The immigration officer flicked through the passport, noting the visa towards the back. She studied his photograph and then handed it back to him. Hue Li thanked her and immediately saw the surprise at his fluent Mandarin. He hurried away, cursing himself. He was meant to be American; he knew few American-Chinese spoke Mandarin, and if they did, it was with a very different accent, immediately recognisable to anyone from China.

He found a seat before he collapsed.

They were calling for the last passengers for his flight and he hurried through to the departure gate. The waiting area was empty. He rushed up to the uniformed girl at the door, handing over his boarding card. She pointed down the corridor, smiling.

Hue Li hurried down the dimly-lit corridor, inhaling the aviation fuel in the heavy air. He ran down a flight of steps and out onto the tarmac. A man directed him to a waiting bus with his flight number on the door. Another had just left full of passengers. In the distance, he could see the China Airlines 737. He got on the bus and the doors immediately hissed shut. The bus headed out along the lanes that bisected the tarmac, The 737 filled the windscreen. He could hear the roar of an aircraft taking off.

The glare from the concrete was painful. Hue Li put on his sunglasses, brushing out the creases in his rumpled jacket.

The bus approached the steps to the 737. Hue Li picked up his bag and walked to the door. The bus didn't stop. Instead, it accelerated.

Hue Li watched the 737 rush by. He looked ahead, searching for another aircraft. They had veered away from the parked airliners and were now heading towards a series of maintenance hangars at the far side of the airport.

'What are you doing?' Hue Li demanded, remembering to use English.

The driver looked ahead.

'My plane!' Hue Li now shouted in Mandarin, pointing back to the distant 737.

The driver shook his head.

Hue Li flung himself at the door and tried to pry the two sections apart. He had to get to the plane; if he could just do that he would be safe. He staggered over to the driver and leant over the wheel, trying to wrench it to the right. The driver laid a solid hand against his chest and pushed him away. Hue Li hit the door and sagged to the floor, tears streaming down his face. He begged the driver to take him to the plane. The bus interior dimmed and Hue Li realised they had passed into a hangar. The diesel echoed in the cavernous interior. Shaking, Hue Li got to his knees. Ahead was a private plane and a knot of men in suits standing at the foot of the aircraft's stairway.

The bus tyres squeaked over the surface as the driver u-turned and stopped in front of the men. The doors hissed open.

Hue Li held his bag to his chest, struggling to his feet. The driver smiled, pointing out the door. 'Your flight.'

How had they discovered him so quickly? He stepped down, turned and looked up into the impassive face of his former boss; the Minister for Trade and Industry.

'You have bought deep disgrace and shame onto my department.'

Hue Li fell to his knees. 'Please forgive me ...' he wiped tears from his face.

'You are the worst kind of traitor.'

'It was just business ... please Minister ... please make allowances for the foolishness of youth ...'

'Enough!'

Hu Lee lowered his head, realising he was never going to be Hue Li.

'You will escort these men to Shanghai and assist in the retrieval of the information. If you are successful, then it will be taken into consideration at your trial. If you are too late, then you will be sent to Banbuqiao Detention Centre. If you are lucky it will be a short wait ...'

'Sir, they do not have the encryption code,' Hu Lee cried.

'Idiot,' the minister shouted, 'how long do you think it will be before they work it out? You have caused irreparable damage to our great country. You have no shame?'

'Sir, I am deeply ashamed.'

'We have some time. We believe the encryption would not allow an electronic transfer. You will help retrieve the disk and pray that it has not already left the country.'

Hu Lee trembled as he watched the Minister stride away, his shoes clicking over the surface towards a waiting car. He looked back briefly before slipping into the darkened interior. The car moved away.

Pulled roughly to his feet, Hi Lee felt his suit ripped from him by strong hands; within seconds, he was standing naked. His hands were tied with a strip of plastic. The three men, among them the bus driver, casually dressed in dark trousers and open-necked shirts, then stood in a line in front of him. They stared impassively, looking through him, as if he already did not exist. A figure appeared at the top of the steps and slowly descended. When he reached the bottom he paused, and regarded Hu Lee.

He wore a modern Mandarin-style grey shirt with a high collar, over denim jeans. Tall. A slim, triangular face; black, unblinking eyes. He walked slowly around Hu Lee, one hand behind his back, the other twirling a string of beads. They echoed in the stillness of the hangar and Hu Lee felt his knees give way.

'Lee.' His voice was like approaching bushfire.

Hu Lee jerked his head up and quailed at the face inches from his own.

'Who has the disk?'

'Shanghai ... Hengsheng Peninsula Hotel.'

His interrogator's arm appeared in a blur and Hu Lee collapsed to the floor with a stabbing pain.

'I know where. Who?' The beads clacked against one another as the man circled Hu Lee, waiting for him to regain his breath.

'American woman, Sarah J,' Hu Lee gasped.

The waiting men stepped forward. One took hold of Hu Lee's feet, the other under his arms, and they carried him up the aircraft steps. The third ran to the hangar doors. The interrogator climbed the steps, the click of his beads drowned by the whine of jet engines starting.

Chapter 9

Daniel Stinger felt the muscles in his legs burn as they ascended Mount Dinghu.

The rain returned as they passed under the barrier to the national park. The slopes thick with vegetation. Trees arched the narrow path, their foliage pooling the rain, releasing it in handfuls. It washed the sweat down Daniel's face, stinging his eyes. His sodden clothes rubbed his goose-pimpled flesh.

Tom had given up at the barrier. Daniel had no time for him. Why had Leo invited him? He wasn't even funny any more.

The TTs had again disappeared from view. Typical Americans always out to prove something. Vib was no better. Daniel squinted a few metres ahead. Vib was cycling close to Emma, getting a good view of her nipples pushing against the clinging cotton of her t-shirt. Daniel had fallen back, suddenly tired of Vib's constant and irritating attempts at chatting her up. He had two weeks to get into her knickers; why did he have to do it all in the first 24 hours? Madison seemed equally irritated. She cycled alone.

Emma, Daniel had concluded, was an arrogant, self-obsessed rich girl. Just the sort Vib went for. On the ride out of Zhaoqing, above the roar of the passing vehicles, Emma had talked – shouted – for a full 30 minutes about how they both worked for a bank in New York and, at 25, were being sent to Shanghai to help run a new investment department. They had thought it was a good idea to get a taste of China beforehand. The bank had paid them to come on the trip. "We're getting down and dirty with the locals – see how they tick,' she had said.

Daniel doubted the agricultural peasants they would meet were going to be a good representation of the customers she and Madison were going to have to deal with in Shanghai.

He had asked whether she spoke Mandarin or knew what customs and beliefs the Chinese followed. Emma had shrugged, saying that all international business was conducted in English and the Chinese were becoming westernised in their beliefs. He guessed, coming from a Chinese-American background, she would believe that, and suspected the bank had chosen her because of that subtle message. However, he knew enough about the Chinese, to appreciate how important manners and social etiquette were in any business transaction.

Madison was the intelligent one. She had a good knowledge of Chinese history and quoted Mao Tse Tung's famous saying during the revolution – 'Without a people's army the people have nothing' – as a reason why the communists were successful in defeating the Japanese and also the British and American imperialistic ambitions.

Daniel had wanted to ask more. She had begun to explain that she thought China would never embrace capitalism, not as the West knew it anyway, but rather a fascist system, more like Mussolini's Italy before the Second World War. Vib and Emma had interrupted disdainfully, citing Russia as a good case of what happens to communism.

Having made their point they had not listened to Madison as she tried to explain that the current and recent generations of Chinese leaders, from Deng Xiaoping to Jiang Zemin, had scrapped the communist economic system, but had not embraced capitalism. To be sure, the State no longer owned the means of production. There was now private property and, early the previous June, Daniel remembered Madison saying, businessmen were formally admitted to the Chinese Communist Party.

Profit was no longer taboo; it was actively encouraged at all levels of Chinese society, in public and private sectors. And the State was fully engaged in business enterprise, from the vast corporations, owned wholly or in part by the armed forces, to others with top management and large shareholders simultaneously holding government jobs.

'That's capitalism,' Vib had shouted, grinning at Emma.

Daniel had looked at Madison, her dark eyebrows furrowed with annoyance. It was neither socialism nor capitalism, she had pointed out; it was the infamous 'third way' of the corporate state, first institutionalized in the 1920s by Benito Mussolini, then copied by other fascists in Europe.

Daniel had tried to ask her another question, but Madison, by now frustrated with Vib and Emma, had waved him away in annoyance.

They had not spoken since. Now, as he cycled up the stream that had become the path, he thought on why he struggled so hard to communicate with women.

And then his thoughts turned to Janine.

She had given him permission to come to China, knowing that time away would recharge him. But, how quickly that had changed to accusations of him behaving irresponsibly. How could he love her and put her under so much strain? What about the money he was spending?

If he was honest though, he was more worried about the restaurants. Could his managers cope? He had worked late into the night for two years, building his business. Friends normally were not that important to him. And even when they were, he couldn't help feeling there were better ways to celebrate their friendship than cycling through the rain up the side of a mountain. At their age, they should be playing golf and sipping gin and tonics on the back of a yacht in a Mediterranean harbour.

Looking back over his shoulder, he suddenly felt sorry for Leo. He was a good friend. Daniel stopped pedaling and allowed Leo to catch up.

'How you doing?' Leo asked as he caught up.

Daniel smiled. 'Soaked but getting there. I could feel my arse when I got back on after lunch, but now ...'

They had entered a series of hairpin bends that wound up through the jungle.

'How's Tom?' Daniel asked.

'On the bus.'

They passed Vib and the two girls, pushing their bikes.

'He's like a dog with a bone,' Daniel said, looking back.

'Old man Patel would bury him if he saw him now,' Leo grunted as they changed down to their lowest gear.

'He's always been like that.' Daniel was breathing hard, his face and ears red with effort. 'Remember when we went skiing. He wouldn't leave that girl alone – the one we met at the bar on the first night. We didn't even see him on the slopes!'

They had to stop talking as they climbed the gradient, then crossed a narrow bridge over tumbling water, the spray mingled with the swirling cloud.

The pathway led them onto a road, the speed bumps mocking the last agonised metres to the car park.

Steps climbed between two Buddha statues, guarding the entrance to a temple.

'I'm sorry if Janine is giving you a hard time,' Leo panted, leaning his bike against the back-up truck.

Daniel was doubled over. 'Don't ... worry ... about it. She needs ... to cope with things on her own ... it'll do her good.'

'Buy her something.' Leo grinned, pointing at the gift shop selling plastic temples and Buddhas, incense sticks and candles.

'My arse is sore enough without a plastic temple shoved up it.' Daniel took off his helmet and rubbed his hair. The clouds were dark and heavy, the air humid. Pigeons strutted the paving slabs. 'This place's about 300 years old,' he added, pulling the chamois away from his crotch.

'You having secret lessons from Jon Yong?'

'Read it.'

Leo remembered the guidebook on the plane, happy his friend was showing an interest.

'... Mount Dinghu, is an area designated of special interest by United Nations because there are 17,000 different types of plant in the national park,' Jon Yong explained when they were all together. 'Please come,' he beckoned. 'Two temples, one from Tang dynasty, dating 68 to 907, and Quigyun Temple is from Ming dynasty, 1368 to 1644.'

Daniel was fascinated. 'Buddhism is a great religion; have you ever studied it?'

Leo shook his head, having never been interested in any religion.

'I have,' Madison said. They reached a terrace. Two more Buddhas sat with serene expressions on stone plinths. Trees crowded the ornately carved structures, a patient threat to one day claim back the space as their own. Water dripped constantly from leaves, running in streams down the red tiles.

'It's unlike any other,' Madison continued, sidestepping a recalcitrant pigeon. 'They don't believe in gods but in kindness and life after death. If you lead a good life, you will have a better life in the next and build good karma. The ultimate goal in Buddhism is enlightenment, which leads to Nirvana.'

'I was led to Nirvana once at Wembley Stadium,' Vib interrupted, coming up with Emma. She giggled. 'Never mind,' he said, grinning at Madison.

'Never mind what?' Madison put her hands on her hips, eyes narrowed behind steamed lenses.

'It was their best-selling album, Nevermind,' said Vib, looking at the others with innocence.

Madison turned and stomped through the archway to the temple. Emma hurried after her. 'Maddy, wait up ...'

'What did I say?' Vib was still grinning. He put his arms around Leo and Daniel and steered them through to the inner courtyard. The area was rectangular and the size of a garden swimming pool. The sand-covered floor supported containers and urns bristling with incense sticks. The smoke filled the still air with sandalwood. Two monks silently passed, their vibrant saffron robes in contrast to the brown walls.

Jon Yong continued his tour.

Daniel spotted Madison entering a doorway at the far end and slipped out of Vib's grip. She had entered a shrine. Behind a simple wooden railing in the centre of the room was a gold Buddha.

'Wow, that's huge!' Daniel exclaimed, moving up to stand beside Madison. 'You don't think that's real gold?'

Madison shook her head. She was reading from a plaque.

'Can you read Mandarin?' Daniel asked.

'What if I could, would you find something funny about that too?'

'No, I would be hugely impressed,' he replied, quietly staring up at the face of the Buddha. 'They all seem to have the same expression ... they look so ... peaceful.'

'Maybe that's because he understands so much more than we do. Buddhism teaches that people always suffer and it provides a way to help those who are suffering.'

'How?' Daniel asked, looking down.

'It says here, "everybody's life is filled with suffering from birth to death" ...'

'Great!'

Madison scowled.

'Sorry.'

'Suffering is caused by people wanting worldly things and if you control these wants, then the suffering will end.'

'As simple as that?' Daniel arched an eyebrow.

'If you think about it, yes, it probably is. However, it does go on to say here, "... there is an Eightfold path that teaches us how to control these wants" ... like here.' Madison pointed. She was still wearing fingerless cycling gloves. 'Path number two says: "The true thought – having friendly thoughts about people and all forms of life" ...'

'How did you and Emma become friends?' he asked.

'An interesting jump of thought, Daniel.' She pushed her glasses along her nose and studied him openly for a few seconds. She might have been in her twenties, he thought, but her confidence made him feel self-conscious. 'You don't think Emma and I are suited to one another?'

'I didn't say that.' Daniel held up his hands. 'Forget it. I was just trying to follow path number two.'

Madison laughed and Daniel was surprised at how uninhibited it was. He grinned broadly.

She held his gaze, her smile confident, hands on slim hips. Eventually she took off her glasses, cleaning the lenses on her shirt. 'We met at work. I'd come from Yale ...' She frowned. 'I don't know where she went. Anyway, I know we're chalk and cheese but that works. What about you guys? I've never seen a more eclectic band of brothers!'

'A what?'

'Varied.'

'Oh.' Daniel looked down at the floor. It had started raining again. It drummed on the tiles. He had to raise his voice. 'We weren't bright enough to go to anywhere like Yale, but ...' He looked up and saw her frown. 'We were different back then I guess, not so ... eclectic. If we met now, would we still be friends?' He shrugged. 'A lot of water has passed under our bridges. A lot of suffering, our Buddha friend here might say.'

'Are you guys in one of these mid-life crises sort of things?' Madison asked, walking towards the door.

Daniel followed. The gutters were overflowing and creating a silvery curtain of water that now hid the rectangle of sand. Occasionally the veil would falter and they got a brief view of the incense sticks, the fatter ones hissing and popping.

'I didn't think so. If we are, we're only going to live to 70,' Daniel replied, sticking his hand in the water, surprised at how warm it felt. 'I thought Leo was suffering. He pushed us to come. But maybe he just enjoys us as friends and the rest of us have the problems.'

'Hey, this trip suddenly got interesting,' Madison smiled mischievously. 'Let's go find your buddies.'

They found them in the older Tang temple. The stone floors were worn into smooth depressions with the passing of countless visitors; the corridors were narrower and all the men had to duck. They silently filed past a small square, undecorated room, where half-a-dozen monks were quietly chanting; the canticle made Daniel shiver with awe. The carved panelled walls seemed to lean towards him, listening.

On reaching a cafeteria at the end of the corridor, Jon Yong indicated they should sit at one of the long trestle tables. There was no glass in the window, just thrown-open shutters and a view that fell away over the tree tops and across the valley to the next peak, shrouded in mist. It was quiet, except for the distant chanting. Peaceful.

Jon Yong ordered tea.

'I always thought Buddhism was like an Indian thing,' said Taurean as they shuffled along the bench to let Jon Yong sit down at the end.

Tom mumbled that he was sick of hearing about it. Daniel elbowed him in the ribs.

'Buddhism was introduced into China by immigrants from Persia, Central Asia and India,' Jon Yong told them, indicating the server to lay the cups around the table. 'During this time, Buddhism was at first considered an insignificant cult, practiced by immigrants or foreign corruption of Taoism, but over time it found its own identity as more attention was given to it by native Chinese followers.'

'So are you a Buddhist?' Daniel said.

Jon Yong gave a bemused expression. 'China is a communist country, and since Tang dynasty, many wars. Chinese Buddhism has never recovered. But now many people are coming back to the temples, and it is a great honour for a family to send one of their sons to become a monk.'

Daniel sipped his mint tea. 'You seem to know a lot about it.'

'I am your guide. Of course.' Jon Yong smiled politely.

An hour later they groaned as one when they felt their saddles once more. Jon Yong led them down an unmade path, across the side of the hill, away from the monastery.

Leo found himself at the front as Jon Yong cautiously made his way down the narrow trail, stopping and walking his bike over the exposed roots. He let Leo pass, and Leo quickly left the others behind. He stood on his pedals, adding stability, his arms and legs feeling the strain. Caught out by a sudden hairpin bend, he slid the back wheel around the 90-degree turn but an exposed stone threw him into an undignified heap. Quickly, he got to his feet and glanced back up the path with embarrassment, brushing the leaf mulch from his legs. 'Well done,' he muttered. Ahead of him, across still water, was a waterfall. The usual roar was muffled; it was like listening through a wall. He pushed his bike to a group of huts beside the stream that flowed from the pool.

Jungle crowded the borders of mossy rocks. He walked to the clear water's edge. The waterfall disappeared behind a slab of rock. He dipped his hand into the warm water. The air was still and humid.

Leo stripped to his cycle shorts, thought briefly about removing those too, but decided the others were not far behind. He dived in and relished the water closing over his body. Surfacing, he swam hard to the waterfall. He climbed and slipped into the upper pool. The water pummelled his head and shoulders.

He lost track of time and jumped with surprise when he suddenly felt a body next to him. Leo put his hand up to shade his eyes from the tumbling water.

'What took you?' he shouted, as Daniel and Zachary settled next to him. He turned and saw Kate, then Vib and Emma, climb over the edge. Emma wore a one-piece black bathing suit. Kate had stripped to her bikini top and cycling shorts. She had a good figure but must, thought Leo, be cursing Emma.

'Jon Yong said this place has special healing powers,' Daniel shouted.

'Well, I feel a new man!' Leo shouted back as he got up.

Daniel grinned.

Emma was standing just outside the fall force of water. She was leaning back, rinsing her hair. She had long toned legs in a high cut swimsuit that accentuated every perfect curve and thrust of her body. Leo suddenly felt very white and out of shape; he quickly dived off the ledge.

As the TTs swan laps, Leo noticed Tom, Hilary and Jon Yong sitting on a bench under a tree. He retrieved his t-shirt and started to rub himself down. Tom reached into the rucksack at his feet and pulled out a towel, tossing it towards Leo, who caught it with surprise. 'Not going in?'

Tom shook his head. 'Nah, take ages to refill if I got in there.'

'How about you, Hilary?' Leo plucked at his cycling shorts.

'I didn't bring my cossie. I'm just happy to look,' she answered. Leo caught the look in her eyes before bending down to retrieve the rest of his clothes. He hurriedly made his way to one of the changing cubicles.

The TTs stretched, hands above their heads, then planted their palms on the ground in front of them. Taurean was wearing a pair of black Speedos and Tina, a white one-piece swimsuit; her skin glistened like frosted chocolate and her muscles moved in oily suppleness. 'Great bodies but as interesting as a pair of dumb bells,' muttered Tom.

Leo found a cigarette, one that had fallen out in his backpack. Sitting with his legs in the water, he decided he would savour it as his last. The smoke hung in the heavy air; he could feel a nicotine buzz. He looked down and watched Kate, her arms and legs moving in a slow breast stroke. She swam below. 'Give me a drag,' she said, pulling herself up. He handed her the cigarette.

'Didn't know you smoked,' Leo said, indicating that she should keep it.

'Thanks. How would you? We've only just met.'

He could see tan lines where the bikini top had slipped. Her breasts jiggled with elasticity as she moved her arm, passing the cigarette back. She had a great body. 'Are you and Hilary the same age?' he asked.

'She's younger than me by seven months.'

'Australian life must be good.'

'Why's that?'

'You look fantastic for your ...'

Kate arched an eyebrow witheringly. 'You don't know how old I am, Leo. I could be Emma's age, in which case I'm not doing so good, or I could be an old fart like you and looking fabulous.'

Leo smiled with embarrassment. 'I thought somewhere in all the talk I heard you were more our age but just by looking at you, well, I would never believe it.' He clung to her stare.

Kate's mouth remained a grim line for a second and then curled into a provocative smile. 'You old smoothie. Flattery will get you everywhere!' She turned and dived back into the pool with hardly a splash.

'Less of the old,' Leo mumbled as he watched her swim away.

Chapter 10

A black Mercedes sped along the Wusong Road in the popular Bund district of Shanghai.

The Huangpu River was to the right. Freighters' deck lights were absorbed in the neon from the financial district beyond – towering edifices to Shanghai's surging prosperity, dominated by the spherical architecture of the Oriental Pearl TV Tower, which the dynamic citizens boasted was the world's third tallest.

Passed Nanjing Road, a pedestrian street lined with billboards advertising luxury goods from around the world, the pulsing heart of the city crowded, even at this late hour. Land trains moved beneath giant national flags, helping tired shoppers onto the next famous brand store.

Hu Lee agonised over what had motivated him to betray his country. He glanced at the man sitting perfectly still in the quiet interior of the Mercedes, the beads wrapped around his right hand, his eyes half-closed, a slight smile twisting his lips.

They sped on, surrounded by orange taxis.

'Such pretty things,' the man said suddenly; his voice sent a shiver through Hu Lee. He had thin lips, black spots for eyes, a flat nose. His name was Yo Yo Fang.

'You wanted all these pretty things, didn't you, Lee?'

Hu Lee nodded, his fingers gripping the leather armrest.

The Mercedes turned into the driveway to the HengSheng Peninsula International Hotel, pulling up to the main entrance where a uniformed concierge stepped smartly forward, opening the door, allowing the sounds of the city to assail the occupants. A freighter's horn from the river; the hum of traffic; the laughter of a group of passing tourists. Hu Lee wanted to run but fear paralysed him like a trapped mouse.

He followed Yo Yo Fang, aware at how the concierge bowed respectfully. The cavernous lobby of glass and chrome reflected the palm trees which grew beside several of the larger columns, their heads level with the balcony serving the first floor bedrooms. A chandelier of twisted metal, set with halogen lights, dominated the central space.

The manager bowed obsequiously and Yo Yo Fang dismissed him with a flick of the hand.

The elevator doors opened on the ninth floor. Hu Lee's legs collapsed. The men either side supported him roughly. He knew which way Yo Yo Fang would go; he had been on the same corridor before.

Room 91.

Yo Yo Fang opened the door and gestured for Hu Lee to enter.

He saw the familiar white marble flooring, black woodwork and furniture, and silver bed linen. The black floor-length curtains were tightly drawn and the table lamps cast a shadowy light around the suite. Hu Lee stared at the empty room for a moment. Then he heard a sound from the bathroom.

Yo Yo Fang beckoned him to enter; the beads echoed in the white tiled bathroom.

Sarah J was tied with her hands above her head to the shower nozzle. Her hair hung limply down the side of her face and her white underwear had become translucent. Her make-up had run in long black lines and her flesh was goose-pimply. When she saw Hu Lee she groaned. Yo Yo Fang smiled.

'You are called Sarah J?' Yo Yo Fang asked in heavily accented English, resting lightly on the side of the bath. 'And you are from ... America.' He emphasised the final word – like a match striking.

'Dui? Correct?' Yo Yo Fang's voice cracked and Sarah J nodded her head rapidly.

'Hao ... OK, Sarah J, tell me where disk is.'

'Please, I am just a messenger,' Sarah J whispered. 'I am not a spy. I just send material where I am told.'

The rhythm of the beads broke the silence that followed. Yo Yo Fang nodded to one of the men, who produced an object from the inside pocket of his suit jacket and stepped forward. It was roughly ten inches long, black, like a torch but with a substantial rubber hand grip at one end and two prongs where the light should have been. When this touched Sarah J, a blue spark buzzed between the prongs and her body convulsed. Yo Yo Fang stepped away from the bath, brushing drops of water from his shirt.

'It will not kill until many minutes ... feels very bad,' Yo Yo Fang told Hu Lee. They watched the woman's body buck and bend as her nervous system failed under the attack.

'Hao,' he said again; the man stepped back with the stun baton.

'Where is disk?' he asked, sitting again on the side of the bath, ignoring the stain of her urine as it spread from the front of her panties.

Sarah J was shaking uncontrollably, her teeth chattering violently. 'Took it to ... to hotel in ... Qing Yaun.'

'Name?'

Sarah J shook her head, her eyes terrified. 'Don't ... don't know. Told to put it under ... under door.'

'Number?'

'I ... I can't remember ... no ... no, wait,' she screamed as Yo Yo Fang signalled the man to step forward.

'PDA ... my handbag.'

Yo Yo Fang motioned for one of his men, who returned with the electronic devise in his hand. 'Where is information?' Yo Yo Fang shouted.

'V ... voice rec ... recognition,' Sarah J whispered. 'Need headset.'

Yo Yo Fang snapped his fingers irritably. His man returned with the headset and roughly connected it to Sarah J. 'Sarah ... Sarah J Carpenter ... diary,' she said as distinctly as she could. A page opened. 'The name ... the name of the hotel and ... and the room number is ... on yesterday's page.'

Yo Yo Fang impatiently stabbed at the scroll button. Finally, he nodded grimly and spoke quickly to one of his men, who left immediately. Yo Yo Fang closed the door. He leant against it, the beads beginning a slow rhythm. 'Lee. Take off your clothes.'

Hu Lee buckled, holding his hands in front of him in prayer, tears streaming down his cheeks. 'Please, the disk is encrypted, they will not get information.'

Yo Yo Fang kicked him onto his back, holding him with his foot like a cockroach. The stun baton jabbed against Hu Lee's arm. Yo Yo Fang lifted his foot and Hu Lee felt the charge ripple through his body. The electricity dumped into his nervous system, mixing the normal body signals, disabling the messages sent from his brain.

He was stripped while he struggled to recover.

The large bath had stainless grab rails. The owners couldn't risk their guests drowning.

Yo Yo Fang used the baton to slowly remove Sarah J's soiled underwear. He ran the prongs through her trimmed pubic hair, the tip of his tongue flicking along his lower lip. Then, impatiently, he shouted for his man to untie her and bind her to the grab rail. She struggled and was slapped across the face. Hu Lee's wrists were also tied to the grab rail. He was crying; saliva dribbled from the corner of his mouth. They both shivered uncontrollably, facing each other in the cold water.

Yo Yo Fang sat once again on the edge of the bath. He looked at one and then the other. 'A pretty couple,' he said. 'I can feel electricity between you!' He shivered dramatically, the rhythm of the beads increasing until they were just a blur, the noise a continuous crack.

Suddenly, the beads were silent. Yo Yo Fang opened his hand. One of his men laid a vibrator carefully in it, making sure the plug was firmly held in the extension cable. He knelt beside the bath. Sarah J began to squirm, her movements hampered by Hu Lee – her eyes wide, pupils dilated, her blond hair slapping the tiles. 'No ... no ... no ...' she screamed, clamping her thighs together. She screamed until Yo Yo Fang gagged her with the sash from her dressing gown. He forced the vibrator between her legs. Sarah J's eyes bulged, her legs stopped kicking.

Yo Yo Fang licked his lips. 'Lot of ac, no dc,' he giggled. 'Ac, dc,' he sang, before bowing theatrically. 'The people of China thank you.'

Hu Lee stared at Sarah J in horror.

Her heals drummed as the vibrator began to buzz. It continued normally until the engineered fault broke its internal earth. Sitting in water and connected to the stainless steel hoops, earthed through to the metal frame of the bath, Hu Lee and Sarah J completed the lethal circuit from the hotel mains.

Their bodies thrashed; water sprayed over the side. Yo Yo Fang and his colleagues hurried from the room. The lights in the suite dimmed. Sarah J's body began to burn. Muffled screams died as they bit through their tongues; blood spurted over their chins. Their eyes bulged. And then their hearts stopped.

The hotel blacked out.

Yo Yo Fang walked quickly down the fire escape. The press would not be allowed to report the full facts, but he would make sure it appeared on the internet. The Minister had insisted that the fate of traitors was fully known.

Chapter 11

As if by the hand of a divine lighting director, shafts of sunlight circled areas of flat landscape for their attention. But the display was lost on Leo. The dying breaths of the typhoon still dogged their progress. Leo's head was down, watching the tyres crunch over gravel, the monotonous rise and fall of his knees. They had left the traffic-clogged roads, heading out along a dyke protecting villages and farmland from the Bei River, a thread of gunmetal grey below distant hills with the area between, an endless green panorama of rice fields.

The wind buffeted him. It moaned through the gaps in his helmet; a dreary sound. The path rounded a series of lazy bends and then disappeared to a vanishing point that converged with the distant hills. A mile ahead, the TTs were mere blobs of colour; at half that distance, he could see the red t-shirts of Vib and Daniel, together with Zachary, Emma, Madison and Jon Yong. The rest were behind him – except for Tom, who had elected to remain in the minibus. He would already be at the lunch stop; 29 kilometres ahead.

Leo's frustration with Tom was hardening to resentment. As a friend, Tom should be making an effort. An experience shared is a bigger thing? Daniel had cycled off with Vib – without a backward glance. There was none of the camaraderie Leo had hoped for. None of the connection or humour that had been so memorable on their other trips.

The distant hills were in a halo of light. It had stopped raining an hour ago. His North Face was dry but the humid air kept Leo's shorts damp. His legs moved steadily. No aches or pains, unlike the others, who had complained vociferously when they had first mounted up. A pair of white egrets flew parallel. The gusts of wind helped them along and soon they faded into the haze.

Leo sighed. He wasn't sure he enjoyed biking over endlessly flat terrain. He had imagined the trip would be more off-road, climbing overgrown paths across deserted mountain ranges. He would certainly have had more fun in one of his BMWs over the route they had so far covered. He wondered how they were coping back home. It was the first time he had left the company since its conception, 18 months ago, the time he finally realised that his days as a Touring Car driver were finally over.

He changed down a gear as the wind abated. It wasn't that he was a bad driver, just not a very good salesman, unable to secure the sponsorship required to support a car good enough to be consistently at the front of the grid. Leo glanced at his milometer; he was doing 15 mph. He pushed the button again; he had been cycling for two hours, 26 minutes.

Sunlight illuminated what he thought had been a distant clump of trees. He could now see they were a series of high chimneys, the tallest emitting a flattened cloud of white smoke which quickly coalesced into the surrounding greyness. Leo wondered what obnoxious chemical was being allowed to escape into the ungoverned air. Tall, sentry-like box pylons marched away from the chimneys. Coal-powered electricity stations were everywhere, Jon Yong had told him. They were very inefficient and, as a result, were almost as numerous as the pylons. Every valley blighted with one.

The thought of China's struggle to drag their industry into the 21st century reminded Leo again, of his own daily battles. Striving to beat the competition, worrying about costs – making a profit. He hated it, knew he wasn't suited to it, but life had kind of stranded him on that particular high-tide line, and it was going to be a while before he found a way of getting off.

'Come on Leo, you're going backwards!'

He wobbled to his right. Kate and Hilary came into view. He looked down at his milometer. His speed had dropped to seven mph.

'Has the force left you?' Hilary laughed.

'Miles away,' he grinned ruefully.

Kate stayed beside him. 'You OK?'

Leo glanced at her. She was wearing Oakley sunglasses; hair pulled back and kept in place with a black headband. Her cycling shorts had a red stripe down the side below a black sleeveless t-shirt. Black suited her. He realised he hadn't replied and that she was still looking at him, a slight smile on her glossy lips.

He nodded quickly. 'Just thinking ... business.'

'That's a crap thing to be thinking about when you've got this beautiful scenery to fill your mind.'

Leo was about to mention the factory on the horizon when he saw her grin.

'Not the China I was expecting,' he said.

'Ah well, I'm sure it'll get better, Leo.'

They cycled together in silence, Hilary on point. Leo could occasionally smell Kate's deodorant – or was it her suntan lotion? Coconut. She was obviously optimistic that the weather would improve. 'So, you never did tell me how you two met?'

'It's a long story, Leo. Probably best told over a beer.'

Hilary straightened and looked over her shoulder; her bike wobbled dangerously close to the edge of the path. 'Go ahead Kate, tell him.'

Kate shrugged. 'I run a clinic, Leo ... in Sydney. I set it up about twelve years ago. I help people get over their problems.'

'What kind?'

'Drink and drugs normally.'

'And she's bloody good at it, Leo,' Hilary shouted over her shoulder, wobbling again. 'She had me off the vodka in three months. Worth every bloody last penny ... and she's become my best mate.'

'You just keep looking ahead, Hilly, otherwise I'm going to lose one of my best mate's too!'

Leo smiled with her. 'You must get a lot of job satisfaction.'

Kate laughed. 'It has its ups and downs, Leo, like everything. I meet a lot of desperate people and, if I'm lucky, we sort them out, and if I'm really lucky, I make a good friend ...'

'And a shit-load of money ... whoaah.' Hilary screamed as her front wheel slipped off the edge of the path and her bike side-slipped down the smooth slope of the stone wall. Her uphill pedal caught in a crack and pivoted the bike straight downhill. She screamed shrilly. She had her hands clenched over the brake levers but the locked tyres slid over the smooth surface.

Hilary's screams pierced the air.

Leo turned and jumped his bike off the path. He landed a few feet behind Hilary, standing on the pedals, his body arched behind his saddle. Rushing up beside her, he locked one arm round her waist and leant his bike into her, forcing her to turn, like a Speedway racer. His shoe bounced and stubbed over the joints in the stone slabs, but the bikes speed bled away with the friction from the tyres. A metre before the wall, they collapsed in a tangle of limbs and bicycle parts.

Hilary was moaning under him. Kate scrambled down the slope.

'Hilly!' Kate yelled. 'Christ, are you OK?'

'Pull the bike off me,' said Leo. 'My leg's trapped.'

They slowly disentangled. 'Shit, Leo, where the hell did you learn to ride like that?' Kate asked as she looked over her friend's leg, examining the gash down her shin.

Leo pulled down his sock. He had torn the skin off his ankle.

'Here, let me look at that,' Kate said, crabbing over. She had taken a first aid box from her backpack and wrapped a cotton pad over the cut on Hilary's shin. She used another to dab away the blood on Leo's ankle. Her touch was gentle. He winced as she dabbed with disinfectant, She tutted.

'That should do it.' Kate smeared TCP cream before applying a plaster.

'Thank you, Leo. I owe you my life,' said Hilary, her eyes large in a white face.

'I dunno. You might have been less damaged going over the edge. The paddy fields are full of water.'

'Yeah, about two inches deep!'

Leo grinned and inspected the two bikes. Other than a few scratches, the wheels and frames seemed undamaged.

'We're lucky. Could have been a long walk.'

He started to push the bikes up the slope. Hilary laid a hand on his arm. 'I mean it, Leo, thanks.'

Leo nodded. 'Hey, I was getting bored with riding along the top anyway!'

As they were about to get back on, Leo suddenly found himself in a group hug. Hilary kissed him hard on the cheek; Kate, on the corner of his mouth. Her lips were moist and tasted of apple.

'I take everything back about a man your age taking this cycling thing too seriously. You're a star,' Kate said quietly. Leo could feel her breath.

He ran his tongue over his lips as Kate swung a slim leg over the crossbar; her buttocks spread deliciously either side of the saddle.

'You go first,' he said as they looked round. 'Just in case ...' He shrugged his shoulders and Kate's eyes narrowed. She winked before turning back and pushing off.

They were half-an-hour behind the rest. The others were sitting around a camp table under an open-sided shelter overlooking the road, eating sandwiches of peanut butter and jam, pizza, fruit and cheese. There were also Mars bars, Twix, tubes of Pringles, cases of Diet Coke, Sprite and Fanta. Wonder World Expeditions were not going to let them go the whole trip without western food!

Tom grinned as they walked up.

'What happened to you?' Zachary cried.

As Hilary explained, he inspected her shin. Satisfied that Kate had done a thorough job, Zachary patted the plaster back into place. 'Wonderful!' he said as he helped her sit at the table.

Leo became embarrassed as the women enthusiastically recounted his heroics. Daniel and Zachary patted him on the back. Vib smirked.

The TTs were busily eating and Leo was unsure whether they had heard anything. He avoided looking at Tom, who sat between Mr. Wang and Jon Yong, both eating cold chow mein from Tupperware boxes, their chopsticks a blur. Leo sat next to Kate, her thigh against his.

As they sipped coffee sweetened from condensed milk, the sun burst through. Like washing liquid in oil, the clouds shrank away in an ever-widening circle, until the sky was a deep blue and the clouds were banished to the tops of the far hills. The change in temperature was dramatic.

Emma retrieved her Da Kine spree bag. The internal compartments were crammed with various bottles and tubes. Retrieving her mobile she frowned from the lack of signal then inspected her teeth in the bag's mirror and used a pink fingernail to lever out a melon seed. Selecting a brown tube, she spread lotion on her arms, neck, face and legs, then held up her hair which was tied in a pony tail. She asked Vib to spread more lotion onto the back of her neck.

Leo walked and stretched in the warmth; a delicious shiver ran through him as he felt the dampness finally leave his body and clothes.

'Feels wonderful, doesn't it?' Zachary said, stretching next to him. 'I've suffered from rheumatism since I had a car accident that buggered my spine. Damp weather plays hell with it.'

'You would never have guessed, Zachary, you're outpacing all of us.'

Zachary adjusted his glasses. 'Mind over matter. I'm fuelled with the elixir of life.' He plonked his round helmet onto his head and his fingers fumbled with the chin strap. It clipped into place and then he hiked up his cycle shorts, tucking his vest into the band. His skinny frame accentuated the bulge in the front of the shorts which Leo had to admit, was impressive. Zachary buckled on his bum-bag. 'Elixir of life, that's what keeps you going when you get to my age,' he added with a lopsided grin matching the slope of his shoulders. He suddenly stretched out his hand and Leo was forced to clasp it. 'Thank you for what you did for my sister. Wonderfully brave of you.'

Leo shook his hand, then watched him cross the gravel parking area to the bikes stacked under a tree.

The warmth transformed the group. There was laughter.

With the exception of Leo, Tom and Zachary, there was also a transformation in cycling attire.

Taurean had Spider Man leaping from his back in bright red and blue, and Tina looked as though she was about to go down to her local LA Fitness. She had short red pants and a g-string leotard separating her buttocks – like the white line in the middle of a road. Her dark skin glistened with applied lotion and her muscled thighs rippled in the sunlight.

Emma and Madison wore matching Fox tank-tops over sports bras; their escorts, Leo noticed, had also changed into fashionable sleeveless Specialized shirts and Fox Flite shorts.

'Looks like a fucking mountain bike fashion show,' Tom said glumly.

Leo nodded taking in his stained shorts and cotton Hawaiian shirt open to the top of his bulging stomach. The thick matting of dark hair on his chest contrasted with his pale skin.

'You biking this afternoon?'

Tom nodded. 'It's that or listen to Mr. Wang tell me his life history ... in fucking Mandarin.'

Leo looked past him. Kate's sports bra accentuated her breasts. Her baseball cap shaded her eyes and she twirled her glasses in one hand as she walked by.

'That is one magnificent arse,' said Tom, following Leo's gaze and hooking the sunglasses down the bridge of his nose, peering over the top of the frames. .

Leo rested his hand on Tom's shoulder. 'See what you've been missing.'

'I would sure like to be her saddle,' Tom replied.

The group pedalled up the ramp and rejoined the path along the top of the dyke. Leo felt invigorated and settled down to the pace set by the TTs. They cycled seriously, line astern; occasionally Taurean would glance back, Leo would smile, and he would frown. Leo peered at his milometer. They were averaging 20 mph. He could feel the muscles in his legs working, but his breathing was normal. Quickly, they covered the remaining distance to the Bei River. The path tapered down from the dyke and melded with the road before finishing at a concrete slipway.

The Bei, Leo remembered, was so insignificant that many maps did not show its name. When he looked across its half-mile width, he appreciated how immense China was.

Leo walked down with the TTs to the end of the slipway. The concrete ended abruptly and the dark water eddied around its jagged edge. Upstream were several barges. They looked like wrecks until he noticed washing on lines and smoke seeping from metal chimneys. More were downstream, rafted together in a protected pool. They were like Rhine barges, brightly-painted, prickled with TV aerials and satellite dishes. Several more were out in the main channel, slowly making their way upstream, their gunnels almost under water from the weight of cargo. A minibus and a battered truck joined the three bikes as they waited to board the ferry, which was beginning its return journey from the distant bank. Their drivers openly admired Tina as she squatted at the side of the slipway, studying the fish and crabs in the shallow pools.

'Do you both do a lot of cycling back home?' Leo asked.

Taurean nodded. 'Most evenings in the summer. Ten miles on local tracks. Winter, we work out at the gym.'

'Humidity makes it tougher?' Leo said.

'Not really. Work sends us away. We've cycled in Taiwan, Vietnam, India ... I think we told you that already.'

Tina stood up and shook her legs, relaxing the muscles. Her buttocks wobbled and the watching drivers smiled. 'Vietnam was pretty tough, wasn't it?' she said, looking up at Taurean. 'The roads were really bad and the food terrible.'

'Ahuh.' Taurean nodded, shading his eyes, searching for the others. 'That's why the supplements. ... the right fuel in the engine otherwise everything seizes.'

Leo yawned suddenly. 'What do you think of China?'

Taurean glanced at his watch. 'I think, if they don't get here soon, we're going to miss this ferry and we're not going to get into Qing Yuan before dark, that's what I think.'

Leo glanced at his watch. It was two-thirty. 'We only have forty kilometres to go.'

Taurean looked at him blankly. 'Have you seen the size of those hills? We're not going to be averaging twenty.'

Leo peered again at his watch and then back up the ramp.

'I think China's a threat to the world order,' Tina said suddenly, and Leo stopped halfway through another yawn. He glanced quickly at Taurean. Tina sat on the edge, her legs swinging, her trainers just brushing the water

Taurean frowned.

'Why's that?' Leo asked, sitting next to her with relief.

'Because the way they're going with economic growth an' all, they're going to need more oil than the world can provide. Then what's going to happen?'

'We'll all have to drive smaller cars,' Leo said.

Tina looked up from studying the fish darting below her swinging feet. She had sensuous lips that glistened with applied gloss and wide-spaced eyes that were very white around black pupils. Her nostrils flared. 'That's going to solve zip. They have to learn to make do with less.

Leo raised his eyebrows. 'Why should they, when they can see how rich the West is?'

'Cause we were there first. It's the law of the jungle and ...'

'Here they come,' Taurean interrupted, marching off towards his bike.

'How can we stop them?' Leo asked, getting up with her.

They looked towards the end of the slipway as the ferry came to a gentle stop. It was a flat barge with vehicle ramps either end, guided across the current by an old tug that looked like it had been doing its job for a hundred years.

'There are lots of ways their growth can be slowed,' Tina said. 'And the US is the only country in the world prepared to make harsh decisions which are best for all.'

Leo stopped. 'You're kidding?'

Tina shaded her eyes and looked up at him. 'What? No, I'm not kidding. Look at Iraq, Kosovo, Afghanistan, Viet ...' She stopped herself. 'Anyway, our forces keep world peace and our industry provides the technology that runs the world. We are the only superpower left.'

Leo twirled his helmet for a few seconds. 'So the US ... you reckon, would be doing a good thing if it stepped in and stopped China developing economically? Like you stepped in to help Iraq, and yourself to the oil?'

'Hey! Europe was with us all the way on that,' she said, her eyes narrowing. 'But yeah, I reckon China needs to slow down, but there are ways of doing it without using bombs and bullets.'

'Glad to hear it,' Leo muttered, watching her walk off, her buttocks chewing the white strip of material. The Chinese, he thought, were not the ones who needed to slow down. Even as a country struggling with its new-found wealth and development, China was more amenable to endorsing the Kyoto Agreement than the US, the country, that in 2004 produced 25 percent of the world's greenhouse gasses, He shook his head.

'You look pissed off?' Tom said, his shirt stuck to his heaving chest.

'Oh, just been talking politics to Spider Man and Miss LA Fitness,' Leo replied as they pushed their bikes towards the ferry.

Tom took a deep breath. 'Never talk politics until you've had a few, and never without me around.'

He stopped Leo with his hand, looked up at the sky and puffed out his cheeks. Assuming a wide stance, he held up two fingers, victory style. 'The best argument against democracy is a five-minute conversation with the average voter,' he said in a good Winston Churchill voice.

Madison laughed. 'I got a famous one by Dan Quayle: "It isn't pollution that is harming the environment, it's the impurities in our air and water that are doing it" ...'

Leo smiled. 'I'll remember that if Taurean or Tina start talking about the Kyoto Agreement.'

'Ouch! You don't want to go there,' Madison remarked in a serious tone as they sat down on a section of metal bench that lined the ferry. 'Not with red-blooded patriots.'

'Aren't you a patriot?' Tom asked.

'Sure, but the Kyoto Agreement is something else. Those who know about it in the States, which, let's face it, are few, find it hard to justify the US position. My father always quotes Ronald Reagan: "Trees cause more pollution than automobiles do" ...'

She sounded passably like Reagan in his old western movies.

'You into politics?' Tom asked her.

Madison shrugged, gazing at the vast expanse of blue-green river. 'Runs in the family, I guess.'

Leo laid his head back and closed his eyes, allowing the sun to dry his hair. The metal vibrated and he breathed diesel fumes. He half-listened to Tom and Madison, surprised at Tom's grasp of American politics.

Leaving the ferry, they passed a long queue of vehicles with bored occupants, who leant out of windows and laughed as they struggled up the first hill. Jon Yong had said this would be common. Many locals could not believe rich westerners would choose their most basic transport to see their country.

Their clothing, too, caused much astonishment and in some cases, even greater amusement. None of the Chinese wore shorts or brightly-coloured clothes; the women were aghast at the amount of flesh on show.

Jon Yong had insisted that they all stay together for the afternoon. It was impossible to park the minibus at all the intersections at which they had to turn. He set a steady pace as they climbed away from the river. The TTs were almost touching his back wheel.

Leo was at the back, Tom panting beside him, with the growl of the back-up truck, inches from his rear tyre. They crested the first hill just as Tom was about to give up. A stream of traffic, which had been waiting patiently behind, roared by in clouds of diesel. The fumes hung, trapped between the tall stands of bamboo. Leo felt suffocated in his helmet.

And then, out ... into a u-shaped valley, its flat bottom a patchwork quilt of greens, each varying shade denoting different planting times; and through small villages of tired whitewashed buildings with flat roofs, streets deserted except for a thin dog or a lone teenager on a moped.

A rotary cultivator converted into a van, the cab a canvas awning, the bed piled high with hay, overtook with just enough speed to get by, leaving a choking cloud of black smoke.

'No such thing as emission tests, then?' Tom growled.

The driver smiled as he passed, his hands vibrating on the handlebars that led to the engine between two knobbly, off-road tyres.

'I didn't know you were so into politics,' said Leo.

Tom swerved to miss a pothole. Leo's quick reactions prevented them ending up in a heap in the middle of the road.

'Fucking roads!' moaned Tom. 'Yeah well, when I'm not selling cars I read the papers; it helps me relate to the punters,' he finished sarcastically.

They could hear the buzz of another machine approaching from behind.

'You're the boss now. You don't have to mix with punters anymore.'

The buzz of the machine was loud enough for Tom to have to shout. 'No, I suppose not, but it's the only thing I enjoy doing.'

The machine overtook them, the driver smiling and waving. Behind him was a pyramid of watermelon, and hanging onto the rear was Vib, his bike freewheeling. He waved nonchalantly. Tom gave him the finger. They could hear laughter. Leo looked over his shoulder at Emma and Daniel.

'He's become a cocky son-of-a-bitch since daddy-in-law allowed him to take over the company,' said Tom.

Leo sucked some water in through the hose from his Camelback, rinsed and spat, trying to clear the taste of diesel. 'He's quite stressed though. Ironic, he was the one who always said, shoot me if I ever become a corporate nine-to-fiver. What did he want to be?'

'Well, he's always been a bit of a wanker,' Tom replied, watching Vib.

'He wanted to set up a men's mag, didn't he?' Leo asked.

'Probably. Wanker! You two don't seem to be talking much?'

'His attention has been elsewhere.'

Tom looked behind him, the action making him wobble dangerously. He peered forward and grinned. 'Well, she's better looking than you, that's for sure. You'll be best buddies again – once he's shagged her.'

Jon Yong slowed and bunched them up as they entered a small dusty town. The houses that lined the narrow street were two-storey grey concrete buildings that ran down both sides in a monotonous row, their flat roofs festooned with TV aerials and lines of washing. The shops were small, square openings with roller shutters as doors. A group of men, clustered around the engine of a cultivator spread on a tarpaulin, stopped talking and stared. The older man, with a scraggy white beard and eyes hidden in deep lines, smiled and waved, his two front teeth missing.

'They seem happy, don't they?' said Leo.

'Either that or they just think we're the laugh of the week,' Tom replied, swerving around a woman slowly peddaling her ancient bike with a child on the handlebars and another on the luggage rack.

'It's their belief system,' said Daniel, pushing in between them. 'Worries in life are only created through the pursuit of material things. They don't have many material things, so what do they have to worry about?'

'Bollocks!' Tom snorted.

'No, I'm right. Madison told me that all the average Chinese wants in life is a moped, a TV and a fridge.'

'Yeah well,' said Tom, ' what's that if not material? Maybe compared to the average Yank it's not, but look where they're starting from.'

'OK, but their aspirations are hardly two cars, a house in the country and the desire to possess every conceivable electronic gadget,' Daniel argued breathlessly.

'Bollocks!' repeated Tom. 'They have just as many desires and wants as the rest of us and are just as unhappy most of the time as we bloody well are. They are laughing at us because we look so bloody ridiculous! Not because they all live in a happy never-never land. And as more of them get TVs and satellites, and they see what we have, you watch how long they'll be willing to sit around in the dirt and accept nothing.'

'Alright mate,' Daniel said, patting Tom on the shoulder.

'Yeah well, I get pissed off with everyone looking at the world through Yank glasses.'

'I thought you were getting on with Madison on the ferry ?' Leo asked.

'Yeah I was, she's not your typical Yank,' replied Tom.

'Well, you know why that is, don't you?' said Daniel, lowering his voice and looking between Tom and Leo.

They shrugged.

'Daddy is only the Secretary for Defence. He's like the President's right-hand man!'

Leo looked sharply at Daniel, his eyebrows raised. 'You're kidding!'

Tom whistled. 'So, she's that Prowle?'

Daniel nodded. 'She's the youngest.'

Tom and Leo glanced behind them; the rest of the group was separated by an auto-rickshaw, popping along the road between them.

'Shouldn't she have protection, like the Royal Family?' Leo asked.

'I asked her that when Emma let it slip. Madison hates people knowing who her father is. She said, she wouldn't have come if they'd sent bodyguards. She just wanted to get to know the "real China" without all the bullshit. She came out here incognito, but Emma has a big mouth.'

'Wow!' exclaimed Leo and Tom together.

'Yeah, she flew out to Hong Kong using her mother's maiden name, wearing disguises and all sorts apparently. And then big, but cute mouth lets it slip on only the second day,' Daniel said through a grin.

'Yeah well she has to be the centre of attention,' Tom said.

The side street finished in the middle of town at a crossroads clogged with dump trucks. Their minibus was on the other side and Mr. Wang was waving frantically, indicating they should cross and go down the road next to him.

While they waited for the convoy to pass, the three of them glanced again in Madison's direction. Tom assured them there was a definite resemblance to the Secretary of Defence. Zachary was taking a photograph of a boy playing with a yellow plastic bus in the dirt, oblivious to the wheels of the trucks, inches away. He knelt to get a better angle. Through a sudden gap, a black car sprang out from the road opposite. The driver skidded to a halt, a cloud of dust billowing over Zachary. Hilary dropped her bike and rushed forward.

She emerged tugging at her confused brother. 'Slow down,' she yelled at the driver's bored, young face.

Leo was taken aback. He had become used to smiling Chinese greetings. The Toyota revved, rocking the tired suspension. The young man reached up to the visor and retrieved a pair of sunglasses before accelerating away, spraying loose gravel over the road.

Leo glanced at Jon Yong, who remained expressionless. 'Boy racer, yes?' Jon Yong smiled but it did not reach his eyes.

'Local rich kid with a chip on his shoulder, more like,' said Hilary, brushing the dirt off her brother's knees.

Tom, Emma, Vib, Kate and Hilary handed their bikes to Mr. Wang and wearily climbed aboard the minibus. When they set off again on the cycles, the TTs for the first time split up, Taurean in the lead and Tina at the back. Daniel and Madison talked for a while but eventually they, like the rest, fell silent.

The narrow roads of concrete set a monotonous clonk, clonk every few meters. The River Bei reappeared, this time on their right. They headed downstream. As the sun skewered itself on the sharp-pointed hills, it bled an orange, then a pink light, washing the peeling apartment buildings of Qing Yuan, with its evening light.

The congested, noisy suburbs pounded Leo's head. Jon Yong did not slow and they pedalled hard to keep up. The scruffy outer streets blended to wider boulevards of six lanes, which Jon Yong unnervingly led them into. Leo shouted warnings at Zachary to prevent his attention wandering.

The hotel, a modern building, was in the centre; a wedding party was leaving, the elegant guests bewildered by the sudden influx of licra-clad foreigners. Hilary pulled Zachary away as he started to take photographs, but the bride and groom smiled when he told them to 'have a wonderful life together.'

Leo found Tom stretched out on the bed, the TV showing CNN news. Several cockroaches lay where they had been beaten to death on the tiled floor. Leo kicked their carcasses out onto the balcony.

They were on the tenth floor overlooking square concrete blocks to the river. Golden sunlight capped the taller buildings like dying candle flames.

Leo longed for a cigarette. His eyes searched the dark street below for a shop awning that might have a cigarette advertisement he recognised. He didn't see one.

Tom was asleep. Leo showered – and Tom was still asleep. Leo looked at his watch. Twenty minutes before they were to meet back in reception.

He shook Tom's foot. 'You going to take a shower?'

Tom hooked an arm over his face. 'No, I think I've overdone it today. I'm going to pass on whatever fried caterpillar Jon Yong's treating us to.'

Leo hunted through his duffel bag and found a clean pair of boxers. He belted his jeans, buttoned-up a cotton shirt and put on his only other shoes; black Timberlands. Tom was snoring. Leo switched off the TV, not interested in knowing how the Dow Jones had done or the price of oil.

Kate looked stunning in a tight mid-thigh dress. Her hair, a golden yellow, bounced as she walked. She wore light make-up that accentuated the fullness of her lips and the green of her eyes. The foyer seemed to come to a standstill. Leo, who was following, smiled to himself as businessmen stopped their conversations and openly stared. Blond hair and a deep cleavage was not a sight they often saw.

'You have admirers,' Leo said, stepping up beside her.

She glanced at him from the corner of her eyes. 'Who would that be, Leo?'

'Well, I think the whole male population of this town to start with.'

They reached the steps leading onto the minibus. She faced him and pouted. 'Not you, Leo?'

'I'm first in line,' he smiled, placing his hand lightly on the small of her back to guide her up the steps.

She sat with Hilary; Leo, next to her brother behind them. 'No Trevor this evening?' asked Zachary.

Leo frowned. 'No ... Trevor's overdone it today ... and Tom says he's going to sit this one out as well!'

Zachary threw his head back with laughter, slapping Leo on the thigh. 'Wonderful! Always was hopeless with names. Used to cause a few problems in my surgery, I can tell you. None of them died but a few might be walking round with missing bits that others should have had chopped out!'

The restaurant was down a concrete alley; it filled them with trepidation. The rice wine was particularly good, Jon Yong assured them.

A few hours later, Leo could not remember the food they had eaten as he staggered to the minibus – it started to rain and then decided to walk back to the hotel.

Arms around shoulders, singing Raindrops Keep Falling On My Head, they weaved down the damp pavement, towering over the crowds, with uninterrupted views to the end of the street. They collected a group of laughing, curious locals. As if they were visiting Hollywood stars, every shop they went into became congested with excited people, the braver young women reaching out to stroke Kate's hair.

Vib bought beer and wine, announcing they should party on their roof terrace. Everyone agreed.

Leo looked longingly at the cigarettes but was pulled away. He had not managed to talk to Kate. As he walked up the steps to the hotel, he missed his footing and stretched his arm out awkwardly. He immediately felt the muscle in his shoulder tighten and, when he stood up, he could feel the strain. He grimaced as he swung the arm.

Kate walked over and felt along his shoulder, the others whistling.

'What you need is a good massage.'

Leo raised his eyebrows. Her lips were slightly parted and he could see the tips of her teeth.

'Tom's asleep ...'

Kate turned him and pointed to a sign above a stairway. The word massage was printed in English beneath the Chinese characters and an arrow directed the way upstairs.

'You're so thoughtful,' he murmured.

'I know,' she said lightly. 'Come and join the party when you're done.'

Leo rolled his shoulder. Sod her, he thought, suddenly irritated with her teasing. He smiled at the girl wearing a long blue cheongsam, standing behind an imposing reception desk. She smiled back and bobbed her head as he pointed to his shoulder and then mimed a massage. She held out her arm and indicated that he should follow. He caught a glimpse of buttermilk thigh through the slit in her dress.

She opened a door and bowed as he entered. Mandolin, pan pipe and flute played a traditional tune. Leo didn't hear the door close. To his right, on black lacquered shelves, were white towels and in front, a futon laid flat and covered with a sheet. A low table in the middle of the room supported a single lily in a black vase and a bottle of water next to an empty glass.

Two smiling young girls stepped in. Leo smiled in response and they both giggled, hiding their mouths behind small hands. They barely came up to Leo's chest and were probably half his width. Their young faces were dominated by dark oval eyes and long black hair that fell to the small of their backs. One of them retrieved a pair of silk boxer shorts and a knee-length robe from a shelf under the towels. Leo bowed and they burst into a fit of giggles before scampering out, leaving a scent of jasmine.

The walls were decorated with bamboo blinds – except for one, which had a long mirror sectioned with red banners that hung to the floor, depicting columns of black Chinese characters.

The lights dimmed and Leo hurriedly took off his shirt and put on the silk robe before removing the rest of his clothes and self-consciously stepping into the silk shorts. Just as he was wondering what to do next the girls reappeared. They no longer wore cheongsams but were now dressed in white t-shirts, with the logo of the hotel over the slight swell of their breasts, and grey tight-fitting cotton shorts above creamy, soft thighs.

They each held one of his hands and led him to the futon.

Leo lay down. They asked him questions with young, sing-song voices and raised their eyes to the ceiling when he replied by pointing to his shoulders and miming for a second time, massage.

One girl lit incense sticks. The other, kneeling, poured oil into her hands and rubbed them vigorously, before pushing them gently inside his robe. Her warm hands travelled up over his chest and either side of his neck, where the surprisingly strong fingers started kneading the knotted muscle.

More warm hands began massaging his feet. Leo looked down at the smiling face as she lifted his right foot and laid it in her lap. The knot holding his robe fell apart and they giggled, pointing at the dark curls of hair covering his chest and above the waistband of his shorts. Was he their first westerner? He suddenly felt embarrassed and started to pull the robe over him. They shook their heads, smiling; he relaxed, eyes growing heavy.

They rolled him over.

When had he become naked?

His head rested between the thighs of one of the girls and he breathed her Jasmine scent. Her hands worked the muscles in his shoulders. The other girl worked up his legs. The hard muscle of his buttocks they pushed and kneaded, then slapped in a series of quick chopping strokes. Delicious shivers rippled through his body as fingers traced down between the buttocks and a nail raked taught skin.

They rolled him over again. Leo opened his eyes. They knelt, eyes wide. He gasped as they applied more oil, stroking, applying pressure, then releasing. He reached out, too far gone to care. Pushing the hair from their faces, they smiled, then stood as a team before each of them pulled the t-shirt over her head and quickly stepping from the shorts. Their small breasts were paler than the rest of their bodies, which accentuated the dark areolas and pointed nipples. One girl stepped over his chest and, with her legs straight, bent forward, taking hold of him. Leo gasped. The other girl knelt between his legs, her lips close to his penis. She looked at him, her large eyes serious. They began to move their oiled hands, massaging the length of him. Leo lost himself to the sensation until he could hold out no longer.

His body felt suspended; a drowsiness filtered through him borne on the tendrils of incense smoke. He was only dimly aware of the girls leaving. With a supreme effort he opened his eyes. They had disappeared, leaving his clothes neatly folded at the foot of the futon. He wondered how long he could lay there. He was not sure he had the strength to get up.

The elegant woman behind the reception desk beamed at him. He pulled out his wallet and she wrote down the amount – 200 yaun.

Leo did a rough calculation and realised one of the most memorable experiences he had ever been treated to had cost him just £20!

He saw the time on the clock behind her. It was nearly midnight. They had another 80-kilometre ride the next day. He needed some sleep.

In the elevator, his finger hovered over the button for the tenth floor. On an impulse, he jabbed the number 15.

Leo put his ear against the door to room 1524. He heard the murmur of voices and then a sudden burst of female laughter. He knocked. He could hear urgent hushed whispers and he knocked again, saying his name as quietly as possible. The door opened and Vib grinned at him. His black hair was lank and his eyes were hooded. His smooth chest glistened with sweat and the top button of his jeans was open, revealing a wisp of hair.

'C'mon ... join the party ... party, party, parrrtee ... like it's 1999...again ... you're a bit late though,' Vib grinned, opening the door wider and leaning back against the wall.

Leo looked past him at Daniel, Emma, Kate and Hilary sitting round a wine bottle lying on the floor.

Kate raised her glass, slopping wine over her exposed breasts. Next to her, Hilary appeared to be naked, as did Daniel. Emma still wore underwear.

'You've got some catchin' up, Leo,' cried Kate.

Empty bottles of wine and beer lay abandoned around them. Leo tore his eyes away from the curve of Kate's breasts. They were slightly turned at the end. There was no hint of sag, unlike Hilary's, which seemed to have collapsed onto her stomach. Suddenly embarrassed, Hilary reached behind her and retrieved her dress, draping it over the front of her body. Leo looked back at Kate as he took a few steps into the room.

'I don't think there's enough time for me to catch up,' he said, trying to smile. 'Bollocks!' Vib bounced off him as Leo walked passed, then sat down heavily between Kate and Emma. There was an awkward silence.

'I'll let you guys get on with it,' Leo said, looking at Kate, trying to appear casual. The smile had slipped from her face; she looked disappointed, or angry. He was suddenly angry, too, at being excluded yet again, or was he jealous that Kate had been willing to take part in such a game without him? He didn't know.

Leo didn't mean to slam the door. He tensed his shoulders as he heard the mocking cries of the others.

He had thought Kate was attracted to him; now, she appeared well on her way to fucking Vib. Greedy bastard. And what about his wife back home? Old Patel would have a heart attack. Leo entered his room, kicking off his shoes.

Tom was snoring.

Leo angrily snatched at the buttons of his shirt; the faint aroma of sandalwood and the Chinese girls' jasmine perfume clung to the fabric – and the pleasure of the experience came flooding back to him.

He smiled to himself. He fell back on the bed, shutting out Tom's snores by concentrating on the floating images of the girls, feeling again their warm, oiled hands over his body.

Chapter 12

They waited patiently by the minibus.

The plan for the day: drive from Qing Yaun for 20 kilometres and start riding in the hills to the north.

There were five absentees from breakfast. Leo wondered sourly if they were still in bed together. He adjusted his sunglasses, blocking the sunlight reflecting off vehicles navigating the roundabout. Cyclists dodged vehicles like sardines under attack. Eight-thirty. The sun already hot on his legs. He tapped out a Winston bought from the hotel boutique. What the hell! He coughed. His nose felt blocked and his head fuzzy.

Madison and Tom were talking together in the shade of the minibus. Tom laughed and Leo was surprised to see him relaxed. He had even made an effort with his clothes: a pale blue t-shirt with animal written across the front, and a pair of shin-length shorts like Jon Yong's. The loose-fitting material better camouflaged his stomach. He still looked like Madison's father, Leo thought, jabbing out his cigarette on the pavement, burning his fingers. Were they talking about her father? Tom's interest in politics was affecting her; she looked at ease, unlike the guarded way she answered questions from the rest of them, particularly from Vib.

The TTs were stretching, using the back of the minibus for support. An old lady in black, a parasol shading her crinkled face, interrupted her shuffle along the pavement to stare. Several others stopped with her and stood silently as Taurean bent over to touch his toes, his lycra-covered backside facing them. The snarling green figure of the Incredible Hulk appeared to be ripping through the material on his back.

Leo's gaze flicked past them to the fountain in the centre of the roundabout. Young men sat smoking cigarettes; mopeds parked proudly in front. A child waddled towards some pigeons. Her mother watched but made no move to collect her as she teetered near the kerb. Leo was looking forward to getting away from the large towns that appeared to be morphing into every other town across the world; the Chinese identity was dissipating with globalization. Occasionally he would see someone with a basket on a pole slung across their shoulders, wearing a traditional conical straw hat, but in the main he could be in London's Chinatown for all the variety – except for the utilitarian, square concrete architecture.

Vib led them out of the foyer, grumbling at the light and noise. Leo watched them trudge down the steps, dump their bags at Mr. Wang's feet and then clamber onto the bus. They occupied the back seats; scowls surrounding their sunglasses.

Leo sat with Zachary. 'Wonderful day, isn't it?'

Leo nodded.

'Jon Yong, why so many unfinished buildings?' Zachary asked.

'If home owner is building, pay's no land tax,' Jon Yong explained, 'so people not finish building.'

'Wonderful!' Zachary said and took a picture.

'What's your place like?' Leo asked.

'It's a beaut, but Hilary owns it. I moved in when she stayed with Kate in Sydney. She hates gardening so I help. We have parrots that come feed in the trees, you know.'

'They're really good friends, aren't they?' Leo said.

Zachary looked over his shoulder and waved. 'Hilary's husband used to be a long-distance truck driver. Fell asleep at the wheel, they reckon. After they put the fire out there was nothing left ... believe me, I had to identify what there was. She took it really badly.'

'Any kids?'

Zachary shook his head, smiling sadly.

They turned off the main road and wound up through foothills. Thick stands of bamboo crowded the road, dwindling to dense copse of spruce or occasional tight stands of silver birch.

'Jon Jong, they've cut all the trees down,' Zachary cried, as they stared ahead at a forest of stumps.

'Chinese Government allows forty percent of forests for business, but people very poor... they use 90 percent for fires.'

The valleys were quilts of fervent green fields, with occasional figures bent over, knee-deep in water, planting rice or guiding a wooden plough behind water buffalo. There were no tractors.

They stopped in the centre of a village dominated by a dirty three-storey building with custard-orange woodwork and washing hanging from lines on each of the small balconies. The sun had disappeared in a white haze and the air was heavy. A few figures appeared in doorways.

Leo's attention diverted to the village butcher. Under the thatched porch, bloody carcasses swung on lengths of rope. He could see a man in a stained apron at a chopping board. Leo got a picture of the butchered bodies.

'Why the hell would you want a picture of that?'

Kate was standing next to him, hands on hips, a sheen of perspiration on her forehead. He glanced down at the dampness staining the material between her breasts and an image of the night before filled his mind.

Leo turned away. 'People would never believe it back home.' He took another picture as the butcher stood in the doorway with a bloody cleaver and a toothless grin.

'Are those ... dogs?' Kate whispered.

Leo smiled wickedly, enjoying the look on her face. 'You don't see any running around, do you?'

She put a hand up to her mouth and stumbled away.

Leo grinned, 'Woof, woof,' he said, and the butcher nodded happily.

A scream.

Tyres skidding.

Leo spun around. Tina and Madison were lying beside the front wheel of the minibus and Taurean was pulling a man off the saddle of his auto-rickshaw, its handlebars twisted against the bus.

Taurean slammed the driver against the side of the vehicle.

Tina helped Madison to her feet. Emma let out a squeal and ran to her. 'You OK, Maddy?'

'Yeah, fine,' she said, brushing the dirt from her knees. Zachary knelt down in front of her. 'Really, I'm fine.' Madison pushed Zachary's hands away irritably, glaring at Tina.

'What happened?' asked Jon Yong.

Taurean released a fistful of shirt and the terrified driver shrunk down beside the minibus. On his haunches, he held out his hands and started pleading with Jon Yong.

'He says he's very sorry. Eyes not so good.'

Jon Yong was looking at Taurean, clearly confused.

'Sorry!' Taurean mumbled and held out his hand to help the old man to his feet. The man shied away. Taurean went to the rickshaw and pulled it away from the side of the bus, straightening a mirror.

'What the hell just happened here?' Madison shouted. She looked at the others. 'I was crossing the road and this thing came from nowhere. The next thing I know, you two were attacking me.' She pointed at the TTs, now standing together.

They looked at each other. 'Sorry Madison, we thought ...' said Taurean.

'What?' Madison demanded, moving a step closer.

'We thought you were in danger,' Taurean answered, trying to look casual.

Madison held their gaze for a few seconds and then, very purposefully, removed her glasses. She folded them, slipped them into a pocket, then crossed her arms. 'My father sent you...didn't he?' she said quietly.

They looked uncertain but shook their heads vehemently.

'Crap. I haven't been sure of you two since the beginning. Why now?'

'This is bullshit, Madison, we just thought you were about to be run over, that's all,' said Taurean, walking away.

'Tell me the truth!' Madison leapt forward and tugged at the back of his shirt. Her head was level with his chest when Taurean about faced.

'Leave it, Madison, I don't know what you're talking about. We're on vacation. Our company gives self-defence classes.' He looked at the others and shrugged. 'Washington can be a dangerous place. I guess instinct just kicked in.' The high spots of colour on his cheeks had disappeared.

Tina nodded emphatically. 'Look, I know you guys don't like us much and we kinda stick out, but we're here just like you ... on vacation.' She smiled. The side of her white shorts were streaked with dirt. A scratch left a trail of bright crimson along her thigh.

The others looked at each other. Finally, Jon Yong knelt down beside the rickshaw driver and started talking rapidly. It sounded like an argument as their voices rose in volume, but Leo had witnessed this before. It apparently was bad manners for a woman to talk loudly but it was expected of men. Eventually, Jon Yong helped the man to his feet and walked him to his vehicle. A group of locals helped him push it away, silently looking back over their shoulders. There was no sign of the police. Jon Yong obviously carried some sort of authority because no-one came forward to confront them.

Mr. Wang examined the damage.

'If I find out either of you are lying, I'll make sure your asses are kicked out of whatever agency you work for,' said Madison as she stomped off.

'Whoah, has she got a problem.' Taurean smiled but Leo noticed that it quivered with uncertainty. 'We just work for an insurance company.'

Leo felt sorry for them, standing defensively together while the rest looked on in silence. He nudged Zachary.

'There's another injury for you to look at,' he said, pointing at Tina's thigh.

It was a subdued group that left the village, following the cracked concrete into the hills. They stretched out over a mile. Leo noticed the TTs no longer surged ahead.

He cycled up beside Daniel. 'What do you think?'

Daniel's face was pink. Sweat dripped down onto his t-shirt; wet rings circled the collar, under his arms and across his back. 'I think this sucks,' he panted.

Leo looked ahead. 'So, was it five in a bed?'

Daniel carried on panting beside him for a few more metres. 'It might have been, mate, but I was too far gone to notice. This chinky food just doesn't soak anything up. Man, was I wasted.'

'Did everyone get naked?'

Daniel looked at him, his eyes red, dried spittle in the corner of his mouth. 'I know I was. But it was only Vib and me in the room in the morning. No stains on the sheets. So I guess I can still claim to be a faithful husband.' Daniel sucked greedily at his water bottle. 'I think Madison suffers from an independence phobia.'

'Whatever that is, Doc Dan,' said Leo.

'Hey, I thought I fell out the wrong side this morning.'

Leo glared ahead.

'Yeah,' Daniel continued, 'she's strong, intelligent, independent ... sick of people hanging around, looking out for her.'

'If you say so.'

They waited for Tom to catch up. He took several minutes to get his breath back. When he looked at the hill they were about to ascend he got off the bike and started walking. They joined him, discontinuously discussing if the TTs were who Madison suspected.

On reaching the top, they were vaguely surprised. A small two-pump garage stood off the road. The building looked like rock had collected in some form of order as it fell from the steep bank of the cutting. Bits of rusty machinery propped up a wall, near a lopsided Tsingtao board and a man fixing a truck.

They walked into the cramped interior. The mechanic followed, wiping his hands on his shirt, nodding and smiling. Tom held up six fingers and said the name of the beer loudly and, the others thought, with surprising accuracy. The mechanic looked at him blankly so Tom reached over a stack of boxes and pointed at a beer sign.

The mechanic laughed and returned with six bottles, the glass dewing in the humidity.

They walked outside, where Mr. Wang was parking his truck. He waited patiently as they settled on crates near the pumps.

'I'm really beginning to enjoy this,' said Tom.

Amazed, Leo spewed a mouthful of beer into the dirt.

A few vehicles passed but none stopped for petrol. The group sat and talked; the only other sound, the occasional clink from the mechanic's spanner and the cicadas in the fir trees on the hill behind. Then, a black Mercedes with tinted windows, skidded to a halt. The car slowly rolled back until it was level with them. Leo, Daniel and Tom looked at each other and then at the mechanic, who had rolled out from under the truck. The Mercedes idled in the middle of the road. Daniel was the first to get up.

Leo glanced towards Mr. Wang, who was leaning out of the truck window, a cigarette in and. Leo got up and stood next to Daniel. 'Are we in the way? Does he want petrol?' They walked away from the pumps. The Mercedes did not move.

'Kids ... being arseholes,' Tom said, raising his bottle in salute to the hidden occupants.

The Mercedes slowly started forward. When it reached the next bend it accelerated and quickly disappeared from view.

'Some of them really don't like us, do they?' Leo said. 'I guess the young ones resent what we have. At least their parents probably didn't have TVs so were none the wiser.'

They finished their second beers and left 100 yaun. The mechanic patted his pockets. Tom shook his head. He had paid four times what they were on sale for, but worth every penny.

Mr. Wang started the truck and followed them back onto the road. It descended steeply into a valley of scrub and rock screes, the sides, deep in shadow from late-afternoon sun. Along the ridges, slabs of rock stood at precarious angles. Black specs circled above one bluff. They could see the road reappear along the valley floor, bisecting the ubiquitous patchwork of rice fields. The valley widened and at its mouth lay a small cluster of buildings.

'That village must be about ten miles away,' Daniel said.

'And all downhill,' Tom shouted as he pushed off.

Leo watched them go, enjoying the anticipation of the long downhill. But, in the silence he felt a sudden wave of loneliness. The small cluster of buildings, the grand vista of the valley and the fading shouts and whoops of his friends inexplicably made his life empty. Then the familiar rattle of Mr. Wang's diesel dispelled the feeling and he pushed off, pedalling hard to gain speed.

After a series of hairpins the gradient steepened. Leo could see the others. He jumped potholes, no longer risking a glance at his speedometer. The others were not so confident; he caught them halfway, passing at twice their speed.

Leo braked hard for another hairpin, cutting the corner and narrowly missing a truck's bumper. He looked back. Daniel was with him also narrowly missing the truck. On a straight section of new tarmac the speed built. Leo risked a quick look down – 42 – and his vision blurred with tears. The wind howled, the rush of air cold as it pressed his sweat-stained t-shirt against him.

At the final corner he braked inside a bus creeping down in first gear. He looked behind, Daniel was still there – with manic grins they overtook the bus and rounded the final corner together. Daniel, the lighter, edged ahead by a wheel. 'And it's Daniel Stinger ... restaurant owner ... pulling ahead of Leo McLaren ... Touring Car racing driver...' he shouted breathlessly.

Then a farmer's cart emerged from a side track. Leo, nearest the kerb, was forced to brake. He shook his head with disbelief at Daniel's wave of victory.

They followed a family of buffalo into the one-street village of dilapidated houses; walls painted in red and blue political graffiti. A child, wearing red trousers and orange shirt, waved his yellow plastic umbrella from the top of dumped sand.

The minibus was parked at the edge of town.

Vib was running towards them. 'Where the fuck have you been?' he shouted, shooing the buffalo out of the way.

'Drinking beer,' replied Daniel.

'Emma and Madison have disappeared!'

Chapter 13

Yo Yo Fang was dreaming of a hotel room – an empty one.

The receptionist had angered him. She had not been able to tell him who had occupied the room. A block booking – the rooms allocated by the party leader.

His eyes blinked open.

No activity.

They closed again, slowly.

At least he now had the names and passport numbers. He had sent the information to Beijing.; received orders to locate and wait for further instruction.

Yo Yo Fang felt restless, an alien emotion. He was not used to working with others. Not used to waiting for others to make decisions. But powerful people were in charge, people he could not afford to offend if he wanted to carry on with his usual businesses – undisturbed.

He had obtained an itinerary from a porter at the Qing Yaun hotel. His eyes snapped open. They should be here by now. He looked at his watch. Nearly six. He had seen three of the foreigners sitting outside the petrol station, the others spread out across the valley. Idiots!

Yo Yo Fang had been in the chair for five hours. The glare from the white-painted concrete of the hotel opposite had softened to evening orange. Shadows were slowly creeping up the walls. He had positioned his men on the road that led through town. He glanced at the phone, willing it to ring. His eyes closed again. The corner of his mouth twitched as he remembered the owner of the small furniture store, indignant when he demanded he close for the day. Their only child had run downstairs on skinny, six-year-old legs. He was light. Yo Yo Fang had picked him up, thrown him in the air, the youngster's squeals of excitement quickly turning to fear, the higher he came to the joists above.

'We will go,' the store owner had said quietly.

Yo Yo Fang had set the child down; he had run to stand behind his mother, hands clutching the worn material of her trousers.

'Say a word and you will lose everything,' he had said but he wondered if they had kept their word. Who could they have told?

He rose from the chair like a pop-up figure. He stood still and scanned the small bathroom: a stained bath, broken shower, leaking toilet and cracked mirror; in the bedroom, the parents double bed, the child's crammed next to it. Yo Yo Fang walked away from the scarred leather chair to the top of the stairs. Below, the second-hand furniture stood in crooked columns amid the gloom. The phone rang. His toes curled over the top step of the stair, straining the soft leather soles of his shoes.

He listened to his man's report. 'You will wait until I order you to leave,' Yo Yo Fang slammed the phone back on the receiver.

They had still not arrived.

He had made a mistake. He should have followed them. Slowly he walked into the centre of the room. He unfurled the beads from his hand; they centred him, allowed him to walk the inner road. But he needed a greater influence. He sat on the wooden floor, in the centre of the room, the soles of his shoes together, his arms at his side, back straight. The anger flowed through him in thick, black rippling coils. He closed his eyes; the air began to pulse. In his mind, he slipped from the room, his heart slowing. Vibrations ran through the wood-wormed joists, dirty water in the sink began to tremor. He floated high out over the town. Watched the tiny insect-like people scurry along the roads. The sun was a bronze shield on his arm. The coils separated, pulled away, and then reared, their heads expanding. He attacked, the shield destroying the lunging heads in fiery bursts. One after the other, they reared and plunged, his anger, his shield, crushing each stroke, just as he had been taught since the age of ten. He recalled his master's quiet, urgent voice: 'You must obtain control, Fang, or you will never survive ... control your anger. ... I will show you how.' Yo Yo Fang was alone, calm, the sun once more settling over the far hills, the town empty of people. He glided down through soft layers of cloud, gently settling on velvet.

Yo Yo Fang blinked awake. Dust filled the room. He went to the phone and dialled the payphone his man was waiting by, ordering him to return. The black cotton of his trousers hardly moved with the smooth movements of his body.

He lifted the roller door. His driver was asleep at the wheel of the Mercedes.

Yo Yo Fang slipped inside the vehicle without waking him. The car was equipped with a satellite phone. It had an encoder, scrambling his voice so that only the correct receiver could de-code it. He called Beijing. The phone whirred and buzzed like a fax machine connection.

A voice answered.

'I am calling as requested,' Yo Yo Fang said. He listened. 'Yes. The list I sent?' He gazed at the back of his driver's lolling head, 'Yes. But you cannot be certain who the courier is?'

The voice on the other end shouted.

'No, they have not arrived at the hotel yet,' Yo Yo Fang replied. He nodded, glaring at his driver who was looking at him, wide-eyed.

'It shall be done, Minister Chang,' Yo Yo Fang replaced the handset, surprised that the Trade and Industry Minister had lost face by raising his voice. It was not good to show worry with anger. It was a weakness, one that could be exploited, especially now he knew for certain that the Beijing government was not officially involved.

Yo Yo Fang buzzed down the dividing window.

'Next time, you will never wake up.'

The driver lowered his eyes.

'Find me something to eat in this shit-hole.'

Yo Yo Fang disappeared back inside the second-hand furniture store.

Moments later, a metallic green 4 x 4 Pajero skidded to a halt outside the closed shutter. Two men, both tall for Chinese, with well-defined muscles beneath their t-shirts, jumped out. Yo Yo Fang kept the binoculars trained on the building opposite as the two men padded across the wooden floor to his chair. They had followed his teachings in Ch'an, in particular the walking meditation. Although they were not actually meditating, the practice had trained them to focus concentration on the entire body while they walked – from the point where their feet touched the floor to the top of their shaven heads; concentrating as their bodies moved around Zendo. Consequently, they arrived silently at his side. Yo Yo Fang sighed, a sign that he had noted their ability.

'Go back and find these ugly westerners, call me and do not lose them. Follow discreetly back to their hotel. I want to make sure we know exactly where they are when the Minister calls with final instructions.'

The men bowed their heads and left.

Yo Yo Fang allowed himself a small smile. This was his favourite time – the anticipation.

Chapter 14

'What do you mean, disappeared?' Daniel dropped his bike.

Vib shrugged, thumbing to Taurean, who was shouting at someone on the other end of the line, his muscular frame crammed inside a phone box.

Jon Yong tapped the buttons of his mobile, but was not getting a signal.

Taurean slammed the phone down in frustration and backed out of the cubicle. 'They keep cutting me off,' he said to Tina.

'Who's he calling?' Leo asked no-one in particular.

'Oh, I forgot,' Vib said, dramatically putting his hand to his forehead. 'These two idiots' – he jabbed a finger at Taurean and Tina – 'are secret service agents...Madison was right!'

Tom laughed sarcastically.

Leo shook his head with disbelief.

Jon Yong was now in the phone box.

Taurean and Tina were talking, faces close, fingers stabbing at each other's chests. Taurean was trying hard to keep his voice down. Leo could not believe that their little group of touring cyclists could so suddenly be plunged into chaos.

Taurean stalked over to them. 'You three see anything?' he demanded.

'Nope,' Daniel replied, 'but then, we weren't looking.'

Taurean chewed gum furiously, his eyes darting between them.

'You been doing this long?' Tom asked, stepping back when Taurean turned to face him.

'Listen, no bullshit, OK? I want you three to go back up the road and search the farm tracks.'

'Hey! You lost them, you find them,' Tom retorted.

Tina stepped between them. 'Yeah alright...we've screwed up...OK...we're...we're kinda new to this. Help us?'

Leo hadn't noticed before, the small ruby stud in the side of her left nostril. 'You think she's hiding?' he asked.

Tina glanced at Taurean, who was still scowling at Tom. 'Yeah, she has a real problem with protection. Back home her detail were always in trouble for losing her. That's why we tried to keep a low profile. She's getting even.'

'She's too intelligent ...' began Daniel.

'She's a spoilt bitch,' said Taurean. 'You gonna help?'

Leo nodded. 'Why don't we use one of the vehicles?'

'Because we're taking the bus into the next town with Jon Yong so I can make a call. The operator on this pay-phone refuses to place international calls. You need to search the farm tracks and the truck's too big to get down 'em.'

'What about the Mercedes?' Leo said.

Taurean glared at him.

'A black Mercedes stopped while we were at the petrol station. Did you see it?'

Taurean frowned. 'So?'

Leo looked at the others and shrugged. 'Just odd ... the way it... stopped.'

'Did you get a licence plate?'

'Yeah you twat, we got his mother's maiden name too,' said Tom.

'Asshole.' Taurean stalked away.

Two more children had joined the one with the yellow plastic umbrella. They waved, but only Zachary bothered to respond. He and the others were silent as they weaved between mounds of aggregate, back the way they had come.

The sun was near the top of the hills. The east-facing slopes were in deep shadow, which spread like an oil slick across the valley floor, before ending abruptly in a line of sunlight, sprinkled with the white shirts of workers still bent over their crops. On the western side, the evening light strengthened the reds and yellows in the jumbled rock slopes. Pathways ran along the low dams that separated the regular squares of rice fields. Stands of palm trees or single square shacks stood on some of the larger intersections while buffalo grazed on the grassy banks bordering the road.

They came to the first track that led out into the maze of pathways.

'OK, so how are we going to organise this?' Kate asked.

The sun haloed her head, the individual strands shining like fibre optics in the still air. Leo realised he had not spoken to her all day.

'I guess we should split up,' he replied, 'Girls start here and we'll look further on.'

'You're all heart,' said Kate, winking at him.

'I doubt they went far from the road if they are hiding and anyway, we don't have enough daylight for the whole valley.'

Mr. Wang had followed them out of town. Daniel explained with hand signals what they planned to do. He nodded enthusiastically but no-one was sure he understood.

'You think they're playing hide-and-seek?' said Leo as they set off.

'They're crazy bitches, Leo,' replied Vib. 'Young and stuffed with hormones.'

'How come they could slip away so easily?' Leo asked him. 'You've been sniffing around them since we arrived.'

'So it's my fault?'

'No, I didn't say ...'

'I didn't know you boys were going to stop for a beer. Thanks for inviting me.'

Leo looked at Vib, puzzled.

'They were taking their time coming down the hill,' added Vib. 'I went ahead with the others. If you hadn't stopped for a sodding beer, you would've caught up with them.'

'Well, if you hadn't buried your nose in her arse since we got here, like some ... some lovesick puppy, you could've had a beer as well,' Leo said.

Vib ducked his head. 'Wow!' he called to Daniel and Tom, 'did you see that? I've been hit with insinuation.'

'Did it hurt?' Daniel grinned.

'Stung a bit,' said Vib.

Leo grunted as he studied their grinning faces. 'What's the matter, Vib?' he retorted, 'not getting any at home, mate? You've been sniffing around Emma like you haven't had a woman in months.'

Vib looked at the others, his good looks creased with feigned hurt. 'Didn't see you spinning the bottle last night. Kate's got a pretty fit body, considering ...''

Leo clenched the handlebars. 'What?'

'How old she is.' Vib grinned at the others. 'Didn't realise you were interested, sorry mate.'

'Arsehole.'

They split, heading separately across the fields. Leo was the last on the road, his legs pumping. He cycled off the road and along a narrow path. Why were they friends? Time had scoured away parts that had joined them, like wind on a mountain ridge; they were now more like the hard, rocky peaks. They might still see each other but what had connected them had worn away. So why had Vib decided to come on the trip? Habit, and a reluctance to admit their friendship was over? The startling realisation made Leo brake sharply. He slid off the saddle and stood, panting heavily.

Looking out across the fields, he could not see the others and again had that feeling of loneliness. Leo searched ahead. The path finished abruptly. It had been cut to allow water to run from one field to another. The far side of the bank was churned with footprints and dark from splashed water. The sun had dipped behind the top of the ridge. Shouldering his bike, he took a running leap at the gap, just making it, flinging himself forward to avoid slipping into the muddy water.

In the gloom he could make out the heads of palm trees silhouetted against the violet sky. Smoke rose from a metal tube stuck into the thatch of a hut. Leo cycled cautiously forward. As he rested his bike against a wall, he could hear voices. He called out and immediately they fell silent.

Leo walked to the front of the hut, cursing when his shins cracked against timber. The doorway was a canvas sack. He hesitated before pushing back the makeshift screen.

There was only one room. A stove stood against the far wall with a wood fire burning. The yellow light flickered over the other battered bits of furniture. A cot was in the far corner. Leo concentrated on the three figures sitting on wooden stools.

'There's some worried people looking for you,' he said glaring at the pale faces of Madison and Emma.

'Leo! You took your damn time,' said Emma.

He let the sack fall behind him.

An old man stood and bowed, a black hole in his smile from missing teeth. He said something and indicated his stool for Leo, before shuffling to the back of the room.

'What's going on?' Leo dabbed at the blood on his shin.

'We were getting bored of the road and decided to meet the locals,' Emma said. 'Then we had an accident and fell into a ditch. This man rescued us and bought us here to dry off.'

Leo held his hands out to the fire. 'While you've been ... getting to know the locals, we've been riding all over this valley looking for you.'

'Where're the TTs?' Madison asked. Her eyes were glittery; she hunched forward, her arms folded on her knees.

'They've gone on ahead to make phone calls.'

'Why?'

'Oh I think you know why.' Leo stood. 'You've proved your point, Madison, now I'm hungry, tired and its getting dark. So say goodbye to your new friend and let's go.'

Madison leapt up and grabbed Leo's arm. 'Don't be mad, I'm just sick of these people. They're like a cancer, slowly invading me until I feel like...like I'm going to die.'

'Fucking grow up,' Leo said, shaking off her hand and holding open the sack.

They filed out under his arm and he smiled his thanks at the old man.

'They think you've been kidnapped. What would you have done if we'd gone on and left you out here?' Leo watched them retrieve their bikes.

'I just wanted them to confess,' said Madison.

'So now you know.' Leo led the way along the path. 'Now what? We all carry on as before? They're not going home. Not without you, anyway.'

'I just want to be left alone,' Madison said quietly.

'Well, too bad. Comes with the territory of having a powerful daddy,' Leo replied, jumping the ditch, finding it difficult to judge the distance in the dark. By anchoring himself with one leg down the side, he was able to pass their bikes across before pulling the girls over, Emma squealing at him not to be so rough.

'Did you think about what's going to happen to the TTs, when they call saying they've lost you and you might have been kidnapped?'

'Shut up, Leo, for Christ's sake, you're not anybody to tell us what we should and shouldn't do, OK?' said Emma. 'These people are like, cancer, you know ... as Maddy said ... you just have no idea what it's like.'

Leo looked sternly at her. 'They could lose their jobs.'

'They know the risks,' said Madison.

He felt like slapping them.

On reaching the road, they could see a set of headlights moving down the side of the valley, like a slowly falling star. Leo did not want to be on the road after dark. There was no hard shoulder to ride along, no white lines to follow, and he had little faith in the driving ability of the locals. A few lights marked the town. There was a distant rumble of thunder. Leo looked up at the sky.

'Where's Mr. Wang?' Emma asked.

Leo got on his bike. He had wondered the same thing.

'Listen, Leo. I know you and the others are mad with us,' Madison began, 'but how would you like to have someone breathing down your neck every minute of every day?'

'That or being kidnapped and having one of my fingers sent back in a jiffy bag ... then I would put up with it.'

'You're such an asshole, Leo. Vib was right,' Emma snapped.

Leo braked. His bike slewed sideways and the two of them banged into him with shouts and curses. He pulled Emma's handlebars towards him and she slithered off her saddle, her crotch bumping onto the cross bar. He could only just see her. 'What was Vib right about?'

Emma awkwardly clambered off the bike and crossed her thighs, her fists between them. 'You prick! He say's you're too intense, like an old woman going on about shit all the time. Fuck, that hurt!'

The vehicle finally made it down to the valley bottom; its headlights swept over them as it approached. It passed with a blast of horn, a shockwave of dust and the smell of hot brakes and exhaust.

Leo released Emma's bike. The taillights of the vehicle brightened as it slowed for the village. He was worried. It was completely dark now. The two girls' bodies were indistinct. Leo moved off, Emma cursing him as she felt for her bike.

A breeze swayed the few electric lights strung around the village. There was another rumble of thunder and a gust blew grit into Leo's eyes. He blinked rapidly. He could hear the girls calling for him to slow but he was too concerned with the absence of Wang's truck. The street, with its piles of luminescent sand, was deserted except for two cars in front of a building with light coming from an upper windows. Briefly, he could hear music before shutters were banged closed. He could see the phone box at the end of the street, its strip light as incongruous as the modern glass shelter had appeared in daylight.

'What do we do now?' Madison asked quietly.

'Well, we could make a phone call. How good is your Chinese?' Leo replied grimly, sucking the last of the water from his Camelback.

'I'm cold and hungry,' Emma complained.

Leo stepped into the phone box. A machine of standard appearance had a slot for coins and another for phone cards. But none of them had either. Leo dialled the operator's number. He asked the official-sounding man who answered if he spoke English. After a slight pause, the line went dead. Asking to place a reverse charges call to Wonder World Expeditions was going to be difficult. After several attempts, Leo gave up. Emma's mobile had no signal.

'I suggest you go and knock on doors to see if anyone will help,' Leo said.

'Bullshit, you're meant to be the man around here?' Emma said.

'I've already done all I'm going to for you. You have a choice. Look for help here, or cycle on to Jui Long.' Leo pulled a plastic wallet from his backpack. He unfolded a map. 'I reckon it's about twenty kilometres.' He looked up. 'In fact, those are probably the town lights you can see on the horizon.' He looked at another piece of paper. 'And the hotel is called Jade Emperor. Shouldn't be too hard to find.'

'We can't cycle in the dark,' Madison said.

'Yeah ... yeah, you're right, Maddy.' Emma crossed her arms. 'You go, Leo, and we'll wait for you to come back with the minibus.'

Leo ignored her.

'We could thumb a lift,' Madison suggested brightly, then looked sceptically up and down the deserted main street. There was another roll of thunder and briefly the tops of the hills were outlined in flickering light. A stronger gust blew sand against the phone box.

'Do what you want...I'm not standing here all night,' said Leo. See if any of the locals will take you in. You wanted to meet them, remember?'

Emma hugged herself. She looked close to tears. Madison looked down at her feet.

'Go,' said Leo through gritted teeth. 'Go! Now's your chance to make friends.' He wanted to kick their arses.

They walked in small steps, leaning together, like teenagers approaching a bar. Cracks of yellow light appeared through the shutters on the floor above. They knocked lightly. When there was no reply they banged harder. Gaining confidence, they shouted: 'Can anybody help?' There was no movement at the window and the door remained unanswered. They came back to where Leo had been watching. None of the other buildings showed any sign of life.

'Well, that settles it then,' said Leo.

'What do you think happened to Mr. Wang?' Madison asked, as Leo swung his leg over his bike.

'All I know, it's not his damn fault I'm riding down an unlit road without lights.'

'Wait, we're coming with you,' Madison shouted.

'Maddy ...' Emma whined.

Fortunately, the wind was behind when the rain caught them. Only one vehicle had passed with a blast of horn – and a scream from the girls. Leo had acclimatised to the paler reflection of the concrete but when the storm hit, that was blotted from view. He rapidly chilled. When he looked back, it was like peering into a shower head. Madison was close, Emma struggled, ten metres behind.

They were engulfed in a wet, black world. Trees moaned beside the road, and palm fronds clattered. Occasionally, there was the sharp crack of a branch snapping. Every time Leo stopped to wait for Emma to catch up, Madison would bump into the back of his bike, each time with a short yelp of fright. Leo pulled his jacket tighter around him. The girls were not so fortunate. Their lightweight clothing was soaked through and their bodies shivered. He thought briefly about lending his jacket but Emma's continual screaming for them to stop changed his mind.

The road remained flat. The concrete surface collected water in channels which the tyres sprayed into their faces.

A boom of thunder. Leo flinched, then he heard a scream. He braked and searched behind. He waited for the next flash of lightning. The girls were nowhere in sight.

Cursing, he got off his bike and started to push it back up the road, slitting his eyes against the rain. There was movement to his left – a drainage culvert, the concrete buttresses close to the edge of the road. Rainwater spewed from a pipe, tumbling across a concrete apron before disappearing into a ditch.

The lightning was almost constant now and Leo could see the girls lying in a tangled island within the swirling flow of water. There was no guardrail and he realised how lucky he had been. He laid his bike down and scrambled to the side of the buttress. The moss-covered bank gave way. Leo slid down to the ditch, his feet and back scraping and jabbing against loose rock. He stopped himself falling into the ditch. Dazed, he lay for a while squinting up at the shimmering cloud. He could see the white cauliflower heads glowing like deformed Jack-o-lanterns. The girls screamed. He slid to the buttress wall. 'Are you hurt?'

'Leo!' they chorused.

With one hand on top of the concrete wall, he edged out towards them, stretching out his other arm.

Madison, the closest, clasped his hand.

'Bring your bike with you,' he gasped, feeling the skin on his hands tear over the rough concrete wall, staggering in his attempt to hold her against the current. When she reached him, he told her to hold onto the wall. He picked up her bike and dropped it onto the bank.

Emma screamed.

Leo pushed off from the wall. As he felt his feet slipping, he lunged for where he thought Emma had been. His fingers hit the spokes of her bike tyre. He held the rim but the current was too strong. Plunging into the fast-flowing ditch, he felt Emma's bike jabbing painfully into his stomach. Desperate for air, he scrambled for the surface, his helmet banging against the sides. Leo kicked out his legs while still holding onto the bike. His foot jabbed painfully against a rock. He began to panic with disorientation.

Something hit him across the shoulder and he stopped moving, the press of water becoming intense. Using the last of his strength, he pulled his feet under him and, like a weightlifter, pushed himself upwards. His head broke the surface and he sucked painfully, forcing air into his lungs. The water came up to his waist and pressed him hard against a fallen tree. He hooked his elbows onto the top of the branch and, groaning with effort, levered himself out of the flow. 'Emma!' he yelled, realising he had lost her bike.

He started to edge back towards the culvert, shouting her name. He came up against the buttress wall and pulled himself up to the road.

'Did you get my bike?'

Leo peered at her face. It had stopped raining and the darkness had lifted slightly with the moon.

'Did you lose my fucking bike?' Emma shouted.

Leo bent over, coughing up water. 'How did you ...' He waved his hand weakly at the culvert.

'Maddy grabbed me,' she said impatiently. 'Where's my bike?'

Leo spat at his feet and then slowly straightened. 'You're alright then?'

'No, I'm cold, hungry, scared and beaten up, and now you've lost my bike!'

'That's OK then,' said Leo, walking slowly to where his own lay.

Leo glanced at the moon, clouds racing in to cover it again. He beckoned to Emma.

'Sit on the luggage rack. Hold on to me and I swear, if I hear one more word, just one, you can walk.'

Leo's expression was bleak as Emma sat sideways on the rack and silently put her arms around his waist.

He found little strength in his legs. Madison overtook and led the way into Jui Long.

The Jade Emperor, identified by the green neon sign on the roof, was the first building they came to. The main street, an empty wet boulevard, separated with an island of scraggy vegetation. A metallic green 4 x 4 splashed by, giving them a final coat of muddy water.

Mr. Wang's truck was the only vehicle in front of the hotel. Confounded by the normality, Leo rested his bike against Wang's truck and slowly went up the steps. They pushed open the doors and their trainers squeaked over the tiled floor. The small reception desk was deserted. To their left was a single, plain wooden door and they could hear voices. The air was still warm from the day's heat. They shivered with relief.

Leo led the way.

The group occupied a table in the centre of the dining room, lit by a single overhead light.

'Mate, you made it! We were getting really worried,' cried Vib, thumping his beer bottle down on the table and getting to his feet.

Leo stood where he was while the door was pushed wider and the girls stepped inside.

The TTs scrambled to their feet. They stopped and glanced uncertainly at each other.

'You've just been sitting here drinking beer?' Madison said evenly.

'You're OK?' Daniel asked, getting to his feet.

'No thanks to you,' she replied, advancing. 'And you ...' She jabbed her finger towards Taurean; it was shaking.

'Madison! We were worried about you, we thought ...'

'What? That you'd screwed up your Secret Service duties. Was this what they taught you? In a crisis, sit down and ... and drink beer?'

'We did everything we could. The police are alerted and looking for you. You've caused a lot of trouble ...' Taurean began, hands on hips, his chin thrust forward.

'And if you'd been honest in the first place...' Madison interrupted.

'Sons of bitches ... sit here drinking while we nearly drown!'

Vib stepped forward. 'Hilary broke her leg, Emma. Jon Yong and the others have taken her to the nearest hospital. Mr. Wang went with them and so the truck is out of action.'

Emma crossed her arms her mouth hanging, looking helplessly at Madison.

'Shit,' Madison breathed.

'Yeah, she'll live, but her holiday is ruined thanks to you two selfish bitches,' said Tom. 'She broke it by falling down a ditch looking for you,' he added.

Leo watched from the door. Eventually Daniel broke away from the shouting and walked over to him. 'You alright mate?'

'You could have left a message in the phone box or something,' Leo said, not looking at him.

'Hilary was in so much pain. If we hadn't left with the truck we would have been stuck there. In the excitement, we, well, we forgot about leaving a note. We knew you could hack it mate, you're the best rider among us.' Daniel patted him on the shoulder.

Leo looked at him bleakly and Daniel's arm fell limply to his side.

'What room am I in?' Leo asked.

'I'll ask Tom.'

'Don't bother,' said Leo, pushing past him. He stepped through the middle of the shouting circle, shouldering Taurean out of the way, which bought the group to an uneasy silence. Leo looked down at Tom who was the only one still sitting. His smirk quickly disappeared as Leo leant his fists on the edge of the table.

'What's the room number?' he demanded.

'Uhh ... 120.'

Leo reached out. Tom flinched. Grabbing two bottles of beer, Leo straightened and left the table.

'Thank you for finding them,' Tina said quietly. Madison glared at her.

Leo put the bottle to his lips and gulped half the contents. He lowered the bottle and looked calmly at each of them. 'You can all go to hell,' he said and walked out through the now silent group.

Chapter 15

Gusts spattered rain against the bedroom window.

Leo woke with a start. He had been back in the drainage ditch. He focused on the shabby furniture, the worn curtains emitting grey light.

His body ached. He stretched and groaned.

The other bed was empty.

He scowled at his watch; condensation obscured the numbers. The ex had said it was waterproof. He worked saliva into his mouth; his empty stomach rumbled. Throwing off the sheet, he found his clothes in a crumpled, damp heap. Leo ran his fingers over the glaze of dried blood on his shin. He took a few steps to the window, dragged back the curtain, holding the fabric for support. His eyes squinted through a squall obscured view. Across an empty car park was a single-storey building with a guard hut. A Chinese flag above the entrance. Beyond the walls, a road led out across the fields towards distant hills. Cyclists, hidden in yellow and white plastic rain covers, weaved between the puddles.

Leo shivered.

The bathroom stank. Water over the floor. He kicked up the toilet seat, winced. Tom was a pig. Leo crouched to look in the mirror. His hair stood at odd angles and he needed a shave. There were dark rings under his red, puffy eyes. He sucked in his stomach, surveying the various cuts.

No hot water. He yelped with the cold, his body convulsing as he forced himself to stand and soap off under the icy spray.

The others were in the dining room.

Leo sat between Jon Yong and Tom, helping himself to coffee, aware of the stares as he poured a liberal amount of condensed milk into the small cup. There were various half-eaten dishes in the middle of the table. He spooned the remainder of the noodles and scrambled egg onto his plate and, using his chopsticks, skewered the dim sum.

'We were just deciding what to do,' Daniel said from across the table.

Leo poured himself some more coffee. 'How's Hilary?' he asked, glancing at Jon Yong.

Jon Yong's eyes looked uncertain behind his glasses. 'I called hospital. She's OK,' he smiled nervously. 'She rests two days and then plane home.'

If Wonder World Expeditions paid Jon Yong a commission, this trip was a bust. Mr. Wang was certainly not his usual nodding, smiling self.

'Kate and Zachary?' Leo slurped some tea.

'Sleeping,' Jon Yong looked up to the ceiling, presumably indicating that their room was somewhere on the second floor. 'They go home also.'

Leo nodded, irritated that Kate would be leaving.

He looked around the table, finished chewing. 'What?' he asked, picking up the last ha gao.

'Jon Yong says he will continue if only one of us wants to carry on. He thinks Wonder World might refund for the rooms not used and the food etcetera, but we would have to pay surcharges for changing our flight tickets,' Daniel explained.

Leo looked at the TTs, then Madison, sitting opposite, glaring.

'There's no way I'm going on if these two stay,' she said, nodding towards the TTs.

Taurean threw down the chopsticks he had been twirling. He returned Madison's glare evenly. 'What's the difference? You go, we go, you stay, we stay,' he shrugged.

'Son of a bitch,' Emma shouted. 'How dare you, like, ruin everything. We don't need your fucking protection!'

'You're right Emma, you don't,' Taurean said. 'But since your little stunt last night ...' He smiled at Madison. '... we're going to be sticking to you like flies on shit. People are as mad as hell back home. You caused a lot of embarrassment. Now they've said that if you don't cooperate, you can kiss goodbye to your little career move to Shanghai and you'll be spending the next few years shuffling paper in a back room, in some shit hole town in the mid west.' Taurean flexed his hands in front of him. 'Oh, and Emma, your ass is already on the way.'

Emma's jaw dropped. She looked at Madison, who shrugged slightly, the confidence slipping with her shoulders. 'He's bullshitting you,' said Madison, without conviction.

Emma crossed her arms and sat back in her chair. There were spots of colour on her cheeks and her beautiful eyes glistened with tears.

'I'm going to find some cigarettes,' Leo announced as he stood up.

'So, are we all going on with this or what?' Vib called after him.

Leo turned at the door. 'There was never a we about this trip, Vib. Do what the hell you want.'

Jui Long was a one-street town, backed up against a forested slab of hillside: a two-lane carriageway separated by a concrete island with carefully trimmed hedges that sprouted t-shaped concrete road lights. The manicured greenery divided the two flows of traffic, which consisted mostly of bicycles. The ubiquitous two-storey concrete buildings had corrugated metal-roofed awnings, offering shelter to the uneven pavement. Black pollution streaked the whitewash.

Tom caught up with Leo as they passed a man sitting on his haunches near the roadside skinning snakes, their raw carcasses still writhing in the bowl.

'Things not going quite according to plan, are they?'

'Could say that,' Leo replied, waiting for a line of mopeds to pass before starting to cross.

'We're still all mates though, aren't we?'

They stopped in a gap in the island. Leo looked down the street for traffic coming the other way. Cyclists passed, some smiling, others pinging bells. Leo could see a man in a straw coolie hat snipping the already immaculate bushes. Another was standing behind with a broom, sweeping the minute cuttings into a basket.

'It doesn't feel like it,' said Leo. They reached a crossroads; to their left, a market. Red, green and yellow beach umbrellas protected trestle tables of spices and vegetables, meat, rolls of cloth and bottles of cleaning products. In a squat, open-sided building that looked like a car park, the internal area was divided into stalls where chickens and ducks in bamboo baskets, or fish in holding tanks, were taken out and butchered on stained blocks of wood. The channels from each stall were flowing with blood and bits of entrails. Leo found a stall selling cigarettes and bought a packet that he didn't recognise and a box of matches. He lit a cigarette and coughed at the harshness of the tobacco before leaning against a concrete pillar to watch the activity in the darkened interior, listening to the frightened squawks of the chicken and the slap of fish left to die on the concrete floor.

'Jesus! And they reckon that by 2015 China will have a bigger economy than the United States,' Tom remarked.

Leo finished his smoke. The heavy layer of clouds had moved away and the heat rapidly rose in the confines of the market. He could feel his shirt sticking to him and his headache return. He began to feel nauseous with the cloying smell of blood. An old van started up nearby, covering him in a cloud of exhaust. He moved off, looking for a stall selling Tylenol or aspirin.

'Listen, I know you're pissed off with last night. If it helps, we're all feeling like shits about it this morning. Sorry, OK?'

Leo ducked under an umbrella but the small bottle he had seen was not Tylenol and he needed Jon Yong to ask if it was a Chinese equivalent. 'Whatever, Tom. I didn't force any of you to do this. It was a mistake. We've all changed too much.'

'Nothing stays the same. Go with the flow,' Tom said, giving Leo a friendly punch. 'Stop behaving like an old woman!'

Leo watched a woman in a pink t-shirt cycle by; her tricycle carried a 28-inch Sanyo television.

'That's obviously the general consensus of what I've become,' Leo replied. He lit another cigarette, his hand shaking slightly. He breathed in the smoke, coughed, stepping off the kerb. A scooter popped by, a pretty girl beeped her horn. 'I'm carrying on,' he added, pointing with his second cigarette at Tom, still standing on the crowded pavement. 'Like I said, go and do what the hell you like.'

Leo wore his last clean pair of knee-length shorts and a blue cotton shirt. He was conspicuous on the crowded street and felt Tom watching him as he strode away. The shade from the arching trees offered some respite from the sun, but he wanted to get away from the chattering crowd. He bought a litre bottle of water and had drunk half of it by the time he reached quieter streets to the edge of town, where the concrete ended and a dirt track led out through scrub littered with rusty machinery and vehicle carcasses. The sun burnt the back of his neck and sweat dripped down the inside of his arms. Off to his right, across flat farmland and in the haze, he saw isolated limestone outcrops – like a giant's upturned egg carton.

'Something else, aren't they?'

Leo spun round. 'Kate!' he said, pushing his sunglasses more firmly up the bridge of his nose. 'How the hell did you know ...?'

'You stick out in a crowd.'

Leo surveyed her body behind his glasses: loose-fitting trousers revealing a shadow of underwear; a green shirt tied in a knot beneath her breasts; a flat, tanned stomach; a small diamond stud in her navel.

'I can go if you'd rather be alone.' Kate jerked her thumb back towards town.

'No,' said Leo, 'no, your company would be great.'

Kate walked past him and down the track. When he didn't follow immediately she stopped and looked back. She smiled but her eyes were hidden behind sunglasses. 'How's Hilary?' he asked.

'Feels like shit. Bloody angry, too.'

'Can't blame her.'

'No, definitely not, she was having a good time and really needed the break. Selfish little bitches ... don't even seem sorry.'

Leo looked away, towards the egg box-shaped mountains. 'This isn't quite turning out how I expected.'

'Life seldom does, Leo ... seldom does.'

They passed into the shadow of a tall rock, stopped and sat on a ledge by the path. He offered her his water bottle while looking up the sheer cliff face. Swifts darted along ledges high above. The sky was a deep blue.

'So, I guess you'll be going back with Hilary?'

Leo watched the swifts hunt insects, changing direction like charged electrons.

'There's no way I can carry on, Leo, that wouldn't be fair.'

Sun bounced off the slabs of white rock where vegetation had failed to cling. Glaring, even with sunglasses on.

'I spoke to Jon Yong. The doctors told him Hilly can be moved to Guilin in two days. He also said the route we planned to bike would take two days. So I told Hilly we'd use the waiting time to bike to the hospital, then take her to Guilin and get a plane home.'

Leo felt a quick lift in his despondency. He folded his arms. 'The other night with the bottle ... back at the hotel ... did you and Vib ...'

Kate pulled a dry grass stem and stuck it between her teeth. 'What?'

'I was just surprised, that's all.'

She took off her glasses and studied him. 'We weren't that drunk. Hilly was on lemonade. Just a bit of fun. Christ, they're only tits, love, I'm sure you lot have seen plenty of them.' She laughed. 'Maybe I got a bit carried away, but we left before anything happened. Happy?'

'Nothing to do with me.'

'Yeah, that's right.' She looked down at her shoes. 'That Vib. Too stuck up for my liking, anyway!'

Leo nodded.

'Good looking though.' She smiled wickedly. 'Lots of money too. I hear his wife's daddy is a curry sauce millionaire!'

Leo nodded. 'We better get going.'

'You jealous of his success?' Kate asked.

'You're very direct, aren't you?'

'Yep. Aussies tend to be.'

'No, I'm not jealous. He's only running the office because he's married a Singh. They look out for their own.'

'And you're not jealous?' Kate raised an eyebrow provocatively.

Leo shrugged his shoulders. 'Doesn't sound like it, does it?'

'Well, you damn well shouldn't be. Christ, Leo, you're a racing driver. How many blokes would give their eye teeth for that?'

'Was,' Leo corrected her.

'You still race cars around tracks, don't you?'

'With fat bankers.' Leo smiled.

'Hey, don't look so sad,' Kate squeezed his arm gently. 'Let's find out where this goes.'

He helped her off the ledge; she held his hand to balance while brushing dirt off her trousers. He helped her over a tree root, which she could have negotiated on her own. Her grip was strong and her skin, soft. He let go reluctantly, forced to walk single file as they entered a narrow cleft in the rocks. The heat became oppressive. Yellow-breasted birds flitted silently between branches of stunted trees.

'So, I get the impression the big re-bonding experiment isn't working?' Kate said, her voice echoing. She stopped suddenly and he bumped into her.

Leo took off his sunglasses, looked up at the strip of blue high above.

'Speak up.'

Leo smiled. 'They say I'm acting like an old woman.'

'Nothing wrong with a guy who thinks like a woman, even an old one,' said Kate with a grin.

'Think I need to accept things have moved on. Our priorities have shifted and I've been too stuck in the past to notice.'

'Maybe Leo, or maybe they've just become boring old farts like so many of the bloody men I meet nowadays. What is it with the quest for the slippers, a TV remote and a dog? No wonder women divorce in their droves, shouting my life isn't over yet!' Kate threw up her hands.

Leo had no answer.

Through millions of years of weathering, the limestone plateau, 200 feet above, had eroded the narrow defile they had hiked along into a bowl: a pool of green-black water encircled by cliffs of jagged limestone. A few grasses clung to the ledges but the rest of the bowl was devoid of vegetation. Above, the circle of indigo sky was as symmetrical as a saucepan lid. The sun was dazzling after the gloom of the path.

'This is magical!' Kate enthused. Her voice echoed off the walls, disturbing swifts from the high ledges. A stream flowed from the pool a short distance and then disappeared underground close to where they were standing. Mosses and lichens grew on the smooth rock. Kate nearly slipped as she went to the edge of the pool. She knelt and put her hand in the water. 'Wow! That's cold. Looks pretty deep too.' Standing up, she put her hands on her hips, tilting her head back to look up at the sky. She glanced over her shoulder and a slow mischievous smile curled her lips. 'I fancy a dip, Leo, what about you?'

Leo felt a pulse of excitement, a tightening in his groin. He looked behind.

'Come on, no-one's coming.'

Kate heeled off her trainers, then bent quickly to slip off her pop socks. With her back to him, she untied her shirt and let it slip off her shoulders. She reached behind and unclasped her bra, dropping it on top of the shirt. He watched enthralled as she stretched; muscles played along her spine and accentuated the narrowness of her waist. Leo caught a brief glimpse of her breasts as she unbuttoned her trousers, letting them fall to her ankles. Her white g-string bisected the creamy round of her taught buttocks. She pulled the thin strip of material down; it clung for a delicious moment before joining the trousers. Stepping into the water, she jumped, crying how cold it was, her buttocks bouncing with elasticity. Leo's arousal grew.

Kate dived forward; the pale outline of her body swam through the black, clear water and she surfaced in the middle, gasping.

'It's cold but great ... come on in, Leo.' Kate's arms and legs wind-milled in the crystal clear water. 'Don't be shy,' she called as she swam on her back. Leo stepped down to where her clothes lay. He took his sunglasses and laid them next to hers. He heeled off his shoes, then unbuttoned his shirt.

She was still watching him.

'How was your massage?' she said suddenly, her voice echoing.

Leo held his unbuttoned shirt. 'Fun, like your game,' he replied, hearing his anger in the echo.

She swam slowly towards him, breaststroke.

'That's all it was, Leo ... fun. Why didn't you join us?'

He shrugged off his shirt, feeling self-conscious. 'I ... I was tired. The massage had made me groggy.'

'I hear these Chinese masseuses have a knack for doing that.' She laughed at his expression. 'Hey! I'm Australian, we know the Oriental ways better than you Pommys.'

He unbuttoned his shorts. 'So, how did the game end?'

'Well, you coming in kind of broke the ambience. We followed you out pretty soon afterwards. Feeling silly ... if you must know. Now, are you coming in?'

Leo dropped his shorts and looked down at the straining fabric in the front of his boxer shorts.

'Jesus, you guys can be so modest.' Kate turned away from him. 'There. Get in quick before I change my mind.'

Leo peeled off his boxers and dived in, the cold water making him gasp.

He surfaced and swam rapidly to the far side. The water was exhilarating. The stark, bare walls of limestone, the cap of sky, the suddenness of being with Kate, naked, erased his earlier gloom. They met in the middle. She giggled, and squirted water at him.

'I wonder how deep this is?' she said.

Leo looked down. The sunlight winked off the ripples they were creating.

'Come on, let's find out.' She ducked under; her buttocks glistened in the sunlight.

Leo followed. Opening his eyes, he could see her body ahead of him, the clear water magnifying the sweeping stroke of her limbs. They went deep enough to feel the pressure building uncomfortably in their ears. They could not touch the bottom. They burst into the air, gasping, shivering.

Swimming quickly, they reached the side and hauled themselves out onto a smooth piece of sun-baked rock. They lay on their backs, letting the warmth seep into them.

When the shivering stopped, Leo looked sideways. Her nipples were extended, the areola puckered from the cold. Her breasts were the same honey colour as the rest of her. He looked down the flat slope of her stomach. Droplets of water glistened with the jewel in her navel. Dying spasms rippled the muscle on her legs.

Kate shaded her eyes and looked at him.

Leo went up on one elbow and slowly lowered his head. Her lips were warm but her cheek was cold when his nose brushed lightly against it. Kate sighed, her mouth responded and her hand rested on the back of his neck. Her lips opened and his tongue flicked forward, tentatively at first, until she encouraged him further. Her hand moved from his neck, the nails raising fresh goose bumps down his back. He shivered as they traced lightly over the top of his buttocks. The tip of his tongue explored her neck and the outer swell of her breasts. Leo moved a thigh over hers, and her legs parted slightly. His hand ran over the flat plains of her stomach, brushing the first curls of hair. She moaned into his mouth, her body beginning to move under him. Their hands became more urgent, and when her cool skin touched his hardness, he groaned in delight. He moved further onto her but Kate pulled her mouth away.

'We can't,' she breathed.

Leo searched her eyes.

'I'm not on the pill and I bet you're not carrying any condoms?'

Leo frowned. 'Have to say, wasn't expecting to need any today.'

'There're other things we can do,' she said, pulling his mouth back to hers. She kissed his face, his neck, and then her tongue sent delicious shivers through his body as it traced over his chest, his stomach, slowly inching further down. As she moved, she twisted her body so Leo could explore. He circled the jewelled stud; she looked up briefly, her mouth poised over him.

'You like?'

Leo looked again at the diamond and nodded. Her mouth closed over him. He buried his face between her thighs, breathing in her musky scent, feeling her wetness on his tongue. She began to writhe under him, her thighs pressed tightly against his head, her movements on him becoming more frantic. He could feel himself tightening, desperate to prolong the feeling.

Ecstatically, they cried together, her body going rigid before bucking and twisting against him, her mouth sucking thirstily. They carried on, their bodies still demanding, but this time it took longer. The anticipation built slowly. Her tongue and fingers were like fire under a pressure cooker. When their second climax came, Leo thought he would pass out with the intensity. Every muscle in his body quivered. He could see the muscles in her stomach jumping and rippling. They collapsed onto their backs, their chests heaving, sweat replacing the earlier droplets of water, their hands tightly clasped.

Leo drifted into the deep blue circle of sky. When the sun left their rock, they dressed slowly. For a while they walked in silence, reluctant to break the moment. Eventually, they emerged from the narrow gorge and rounded the finger of rock with the sight of Jui Long ahead, 'What do you think the Americans are going to do?' Leo asked.

'Well, the TTs will follow the two spoilt brats, so my money's on them quitting.'

'Vib and Dan will be pissed off. I bet they haven't managed to get anything yet.'

'You men are bastards. Danny-boy's married, isn't he? Yet you seem perfectly OK with the idea of him screwing around.'

'I think he's getting fed up with Janine – that's his wife.'

'So, have the balls to finish it first. And what about their kid?'

They reached the beginning of town; their hands parted.

Two children ran towards them, pushing a florescent yellow hoop. When they saw Leo and Kate, the tallest grabbed the hoop and they stood quietly at the side of the road, eyes wide, the younger with a finger stuck in the corner of her mouth.

Kate smiled and said hello. They both ran off, the hoop held between them

'I always did have a way with children,' Kate said, watching them go.

'Is that why you don't have any?' Leo winced.

Kate was still watching the children run. 'Nice one, Leo. Let's get back.'

Most of the vendors had gone. Leo and Kate turned a corner and a hole in the wall house had its front door open, revealing bare concrete floors and cracked plaster; a woman sat on a three-legged stool feeding an infant while two other children played with sticks in a stream of stagnant water below the doorstep. 'She must see us, see the ads on her TV for Mercedes and giant American fridges, and wonder if we're on the same planet,' said Leo.

'Ah, but would she be any happier with all that?' Kate asked.

'OK, if she's happy, good luck to her. But if you're going to be unhappy, be rich rather than poor.'

The small parking area in front of their hotel was empty. Leo's pace quickened. A figure was sitting on a step, leaning against the wall, a baseball cap pulled low over his eyes.

'Tom!'

Tom pushed the cap to the back of his head and rubbed a hand over his new beard. His hairy stomach bulged through the Hawaiian shirt. He looked at his watch. 'Thought you two had already done a runner.'

Leo and Kate laughed guiltily.

'You've missed the action. Jon Jon got a call from the hospital and Hilary's caught an infection.'

'Oh shit!' Kate cried.

'Zachary's with her,' Tom added. 'The others have quit and Mr. Wang has taken them in the minibus to Guilin airport. I was the volunteer to give you the news.'

'You mean the bastards couldn't even wait with the minibus?' said Leo. 'They just leave us stranded in the middle of China?'

'Yep, only one flight a day and that's leaving in five hours.'

'What kind of infection has Hilly got?' Kate asked.

'Oh, yeah, she was nauseous, sweating, high temperature ... probably the bloody food.'

'What did Zac say?'

Tom shrugged. 'Well for once, not wonderful!'

'You're all bloody heart, Tom,' Kate turnied her back on him. 'What should we do?'

Leo shook his head wearily. 'Why did you wait, Tom? I would have expected you on the first plane home.'

'Actually, I'm beginning to enjoy this. It's re-lit my fire.' Tom stretched, getting up, his yawn becoming a grin.

'You're a really sad bastard,' Kate walked away.

'Hey! I stayed, didn't I?' Tom sat down again. 'Anyway, someone had to deliver stage two of the master plan.'

'Which is?'

'We ride,' he pulled a map from his back pocket with a flourish and spread it out on the floor, pointing to a hand-drawn, red line. 'It's a short cut to the hospital. It saves about thirty-five kilometres off the journey. Jon Jon said he'll pick us up ... here.' Tom pointed to a mark on the map where the white road they were to follow met up with an orange one. They left about an hour ago.' He looked at his watch. 'It's now two. He'll be at the pick-up at about five so we better ride on out,' he added with a cowboy accent.

'Why can't we just get a taxi?' Kate asked, looking out into the road. 'And where are my bags? Jesus! Why couldn't they have just waited?'

'They spent an hour looking, but Zachary was getting very anxious.'

'Oh,' said Kate.

'No taxis here, not the paying variety, anyway, but we could try and cadge a lift,' Tom suggested. 'They've left your backpacks with the bikes.'

'This is unbelievable,' Kate cried as they got onto their bikes, having tried unsuccessfully to persuade someone to give them a lift.

'Surreal,' Leo agreed, 'but the weirdest thing is, you staying behind.'

Tom shrugged, then lent across from his bike and patted Leo on the shoulder. 'We're mates. I felt bad about last night and thought the least I could do is cycle with you until the bitter end.'

Leo looked incredulous.

Tom shrugged again. 'Yeah, you're right. It was either that or going back and selling bloody Mercs to arseholes.'

Kate glanced back. 'Quit yakking and get pedalling.'

They turned left and rode out on the road Leo had seen from his bedroom. Pools of muddy water made the tarmac look like a slice of mouldy Swiss Emmentaler. They snaked in a line with the locals, except when a vehicle approached, and then they stoically rode through. The locals had mudguards unlike their mountain bikes. Soon they had dark strips of mud up the back of their shirts.

'You've got to be kidding!' Kate exclaimed.

They had pulled up at a junction. The tarmac ended. Ahead, down a stone-chipped road, was another small town similar to the one they had just left. This seemed to be the destination for the locals. To their right was a rutted dirt road, with mounds of sand and gravel piled on the verge. The ruts and holes were filled with orange water which several trucks were grinding through. Some of the potholes were deep enough to cover the vehicles' axles.

Tom held the map out for them to see. 'That's a dead end,' he said, pointing to the town. 'This is the short cut.'

'We have to get a lift,' Kate cried, waving at a pick-up truck covered in orange mud. The driver waved back and carried on. They obviously were not familiar with the 'thumb up' for a ride gesture. They merely thumbed back with a big grin.

Leo studied the map. To go back the other way was out of the question. They did not have time. As it was, Yang Shan was still 45 kilometres away. He did not tell the others but he doubted they would get there before dark.

'Let's see if it gets any better,' he said, 'and we'll keep trying to grab a lift.'

Within the first kilometre, they were caked in a stiff plaster-cast of the orange mud. The single-track road meandered between the round-topped cones of limestone. They forded streams and tried to wash off some of the mud, but within metres they were again covered. They arrived at a river, with a temporary bridge, which looked in danger of capsizing as a laden truck crawled over. They waited until the bridge was empty and then raced to the other side. Kate continued trying to get a lift. A truck driver stopped, gestured for her to climb into the slurry that filled the back. She declined and waved him on. A bus driver looked at the state of their clothes and drove on.

After two hours, exhausted, they dropped their bikes in front of a shack at the beginning of a steep hill. It looked treacherous but was the only way out of the valley. They watched a truck as its driver fought to keep it under control on the muddy surface.

Leo was impressed with Kate's stamina. She had been leading most of the way. Her sunglasses left rings around her eyes as she took off her helmet and smoothed back her hair. She pulled her caked clothing away from her with a look of disgust.

'Mud's good for the complexion,' said Leo.

She stuck her tongue out – shockingly pink.

Tom's mud-encrusted beard gave him a caveman appearance. 'I dunno what hurts more, my balls or my arse!' He rubbed the small of his back. 'Let's see if this shit-hole has anything to eat.'

Several truck drivers sat at a table. An open door led to the kitchen behind a broken jewellery showcase. The floor was rough wooden planks and the walls, woven, reed matting. A woman appeared in a dirty apron, a front tooth missing, her face slumped in fault lines of wrinkles. Using chopsticks, Tom mimed their desire to eat. He held up three fingers and then mimed drinking, holding up three fingers again. The old woman smiled, her eyes disappearing from view.

They sat at the only other table. The drivers looked at them in silence.

'They're probably wondering where we've just parked our spaceship,' said Kate.

The old woman returned with three bowls of noodles, topped with pieces of dubious looking grey meat. She poured green tea from a large urn into chipped cups.

They avoided the meat but wolfed down the spicy noodles. The old woman replenished the cups. The mud dried until they could hardly move. Twenty minutes later, they were back outside, looking dubiously up at the hill.

'Nah, keep it you old hag,' Tom said to the woman as she waved notes for change. 'A few quid for noodles doesn't seem too bad.'

Her face crumpled into a smile before she walked with a rolling gait back into her shack.

Resigning themselves, they cursed up the gradient, their knees becoming bruised from knocking against jagged rock. At the crest, they discovered the top of the hill had been decapitated. Huge front-loaders moved tons of rock into waiting dump trucks.

The road meandered through the quarry.

They pedalled warily, the humid air now thick with exhaust. Leo winced from bellowing diesel engines. Coughing as the rock around them was reduced to a fine grey powder. They resembled plaque victims. Eventually, the road passed through a deep cut in the far side of the hill and out onto a wide plateau of grassland, studded with spindly firs. Their speed increased, sweat building unbearably under the dried mud and powder.

Leo looked up at the clear sky. 'Rain would be good right now,' he said – the first thing any of them had spoken since leaving the shack.

Kate grunted. She was straining, becoming dehydrated.

Four hours after leaving Jui Long, with the sun setting in a red blaze, they arrived at the meeting point. They looked at a stone-walled, roofless building, a bleached fir trunk leaning across it, but there was no sign of Wang's truck.

Kate dropped her bike and sat heavily against a wall.

'Definitely the place,' Leo assured them, looking at the map. 'Has to be. There's been no other road.'

'Where is that little bastard then?' said Tom.

Chapter 16

Daniel was feeling guilty about deserting Leo, despite Vib's assertions that Leo had already deserted them. He still wished he had said goodbye.

Things had gone wrong with the trip but it wasn't like him to quit, especially abandon a friend. Was the real reason the fact that he wanted to extend the time with Madison for as long as possible? In truth, he hoped not.

She was intriguing and sexy. She was sitting next to him now, her thigh pressed against his. Had he really abandoned years of friendship with Leo so that he could be with a girl a few hours longer? He tried not to think about Janine and his marriage.

Then fate pushed the thought further back in his mind.

On approach to Guilin airport, two policemen waved them down in an unmarked Pajero.

Mr. Wang, and the police did not speak English. The TTs became agitated. A scared-looking student was dragged from his moped and marched onto the bus. In halting English, he explained that there was a political demonstration at the airport and it had been temporarily closed, with all flights diverted to Hengyang.

Madison asked what they were protesting about and the student translated the question. The policeman shouted at the student and pushed him off the bus.

Daniel pretended to be annoyed at the diversion, as they settled to the steady thump, thump of the tyres running over the concrete. He flipped the tops on two more bottles of beer. Madison had taken off her glasses; her eyes were very blue. She was ten years younger – perhaps that's what thrilled him. He rested his head back as he looked at her straight white teeth, her full lips, as she despaired with China's human rights record. She held up her hand, touching each finger.

'Tiananmen Square ... Tibet ... the Muslim Uighur community, prison torture ... 19th century coal mining practices claiming hundreds of lives every year. The list is endless and yet they claim to be the next superpower?' Madison raised her eyebrows. 'Yeah, right.'

'The Olympics were incredible, they've put a man in space, and their economy is the fastest growing in the world ...' said Daniel.

'Only because the West is buying the cheap shit they produce. What's going to happen when the employees want a bit more for that bigger car and bigger TV?'

'We'll have to pay more.'

'Bullshit! Manufacturing will just move somewhere else.'

Nightfall came, vehicle lights flashed by. Daniel didn't want to see his reflection, so he reached over Madison and pulled down the blind. Vib and Emma were asleep on the back seat, Emma curled in his arm. The TTs sat separately, behind Mr. Wang, their faces lit by the red taillights of a vehicle they were following. As Daniel settled back, his beer spilled over her thighs.

'Ooh, that's cold!' Madison squealed.

Daniel lowered his head and licked the beer from the softness of her thighs.

Madison stiffened and then giggled. 'And that tickles, Mister!'

Daniel ran his tongue lightly up to the start of her shorts. They had been drinking since leaving Jui Long.

He pushed the hem of her shorts higher, his tongue searching. Madison's muscles strained to keep her bottom off the seat, out of the puddle of beer. She gasped as Daniel tongue went higher. He looked up at her. The loose-fitting shorts had pushed up to reveal black panties.

'I don't think you got it all,' she said, her eyes wide.

Daniel needed no further encouragement. She giggled as his tongue traced the edge of the silk material, the wisps of hair rasping against the stubble on his chin, her scent arousing him to a level that blanked all other thought. His finger pushed away the silk and slipped into her moistness.

'I need to pee!' Emma yelled, making her way to the front, stepping over Daniel's legs and looking pointedly at the two of them. She crossed her legs, indicating her need for the toilet to Mr. Wang. He nodded enthusiastically, a wide smile around the stub of a cigarette – but he carried on driving. Emma became insistent. Taurean had to restrain her from grabbing at the wheel.

It started to rain, lightly at first, the wipers on intermittent. They could see streetlights ahead. Mr. Wang slowed and the bus bounced across a potholed parking area, weaving between trucks.

'About time. I was just about to pee all over your bus!' Emma said, jumping off as soon as the doors opened and running, head down, to a nearby café. The rain now drummed on the roof. Madison got up from her seat and announced that she also needed the toilet. Tina stood as she walked past and Madison glared at her. After she had run the short distance to the café entrance, Taurean signalled Tina to follow.

'We might as well all go,' Vib said, coming down the aisle.

At that moment, Tina catapulted back through the door, her back slamming into Mr. Wang, whose head crunched against the side window.

'Fuck ...' Vib shouted.

A man wearing a balaclava appeared. Taurean launched from his seat. The hooded man stepped inside, clasped Taurean's outstretched arm and threw him into the windscreen. The impact cracked the glass. He slumped at Tina's feet as she struggling to disentangle herself from Mr. Wang. Tina got to her knees. The man back-handed her. She fell sideways. Her fingers clawed at the back of the seat. With an impatient gesture, the man stepped forward and punched the side of her head. Tina collapsed.

Daniel started to get out of his seat but the man shook his head.

Mr. Wang was helped from the bus. He glanced uncertainly at the café before hurrying off, quickly disappearing into the rain.

'We're tourists' Daniel protested.

The dark eyes stared at him. The man stood with his legs slightly apart, his hands clasped in front of him.

Daniel glanced towards the café. Another man wearing a balaclava appeared. Madison hung limply in one of his arms like a broken mannequin carried from a shop window. They disappeared behind a truck-trailer. Moments later, a 4 x 4 appeared by the door of the bus. The man at the front bowed, and vanished. Daniel blinked. In that instant, the man had left. Daniel watched the Pajero bounce across the parking lot, swerve onto a side road and disappear.

'Fucking hell!' Vib yelled, vaulting the TTs on the floor and running to the café.

Daniel shook himself and struggled between the seats to Taurean, who was moaning and struggling to sit up. Blood ran down his temple. He wiped it away, his eyes unfocused.

Vib reappeared with Emma, her make-up running and her body heaving with sobs. 'They took Maddy,' she kept saying between each gasp. As Vib helped her onto the bus, she kicked out at Taurean. 'You useless prick!' she screamed.

Taurean dragged himself up, wiping the blood from his face. Gradually, his expression cleared and realisation sharpened his features. Panic filled his eyes. He looked quickly between them and then down to Tina. Kneeling beside her, with a shaking hand he rested a finger against the side of her neck. 'She's still breathing,' he said, his voice hoarse.

'What're we going to do?' Emma screamed.

'Phone the police,' said Daniel, stepping out into the rain. He ran towards the door of the café and pushed against it. He swore. The door was locked. He banged on the thin wood. When there was no answer, he went to the window. He could see the truck drivers and the café staff standing at the counter. He rapped on the glass but they did not move.

'Bastards! We need to use the phone,' he yelled.

He whipped round, his fist going up to defend himself as he felt a hand on his shoulder.

It was Taurean, the rain washing the blood from his face.

'Come on, they're not going to help. Which way did that 4 x 4 go?'

Quickly, they scrambled back on the bus. Taurean got into the driving seat. Vib had carried Tina down to the back and laid her on the seat. Emma was drumming her heals on the floor shouting, her fingers clenching the material of the seat. 'Do something you asshole!'

Taurean started the bus and engaged a gear; he accelerated hard, the suspension creaking across the potholed surface. Items fell from the luggage racks and Daniel had to clutch wildly at a seat back to stop him falling. They skidded onto the minor road the 4 x 4 had used and Taurean spun the wheel, correcting the swerve. When they had straightened, he clenched the wheel and pushed through the gears gaining speed.

'What are you doing?' Daniel yelled. 'We must find the police.'

Sheets of water thudded into the wheel arches and flew from the sides. Ahead was darkness.

Vib moved alongside Daniel. 'What the fuck is he doing?'

Taurean's muscles were bunched as he controlled the bus, lurching along the uneven surface.

'You're going to kill us all,' Vib shouted, trying to stand.

'Sit down,' Taurean roared over his shoulder.

'What does he think he's doing?' Vib shook his head in disbelief.

'I don't know,' said Daniel. 'You better sit down. Help Emma.'

The gradient changed and the bus struggled up a hill. The headlights occasionally illuminated trees or rusty road signs. There was no other light. Taurean refused to talk. They entered a series of sharp bends, the diesel bellowing as it strained up the steepening gradient. The wheels crunched over loose gravel at the side of the road. It had stopped raining. They reached the top. The headlights shone through a small forest of trees crowding the road. Taurean accelerated. The road dipped, turned sharply right. Taurean yanked the wheel too late. Sparks lit the night as the wing ran along the metal barrier. Emma screamed. Daniel closed his eyes, waiting for the sickening feeling of weightlessness as they left the road and leapt out into the black void. But Taurean wrestled the bus away from the barrier. The tyres squealed as he fought for control. Eventually, the bus straightened and Taurean stamped on the accelerator.

Daniel smelt burning rubber. The frame vibrated violently. 'You've got to stop. You've damaged something.'

Taurean's expression was fierce. Unyielding.

Daniel clasped his shoulder. 'You're going to blow a tyre. You have to stop.'

Taurean shook him away but stomped on the brake pedal.

They found a torch and Daniel inspected the nearside damage. A metal strip had buckled inwards; the tyre was badly scarred.

'Another few metres and it would have blown,' Daniel said, looking up the steps to Vib. Taurean rested his head on the rim of the steering wheel, dried blood down the side of his face.

'The three of us might be able to bend it away,' added Daniel.

Taurean pushed himself back, dark rings of sweat under his arms and across his chest. He silently walked down the steps and went to look at the damage. With his help, they managed to bend the metal from the tyre and up into the well of the wheel arch.

'Why didn't you just break the door down back there and phone the police? What the hell are we doing out here?' Daniel swept the torch beam over the bamboo edging the road. Its thick segmented stems formed an impenetrably wall.

Taurean sat on the step of the minibus. 'I ... shit, I don't know ... I wasn't thinking straight, I guess ...'

'Too right you weren't,' Vib shouted. 'You're a prick, Taurean, you know that?'

A slight breeze rustled the bamboo heads but the stems did not move. As Daniel listened, he heard something else. He stiffened, straining to hear what it was. He was about to say something, but stopped when a halo of headlights appeared behind, strengthening rapidly. Taurean leapt inside and pulled a black canvas bag from the rack. He turned it over, peeled back a strip of plastic fastened by Velcro and unzipped a square section in the bottom. Encased in foam was a revolver, a Smith & Wesson 1076 with a de-cocking lever. Taurean checked that all nine, ten millimetre cartridges were in place. He glanced up, ignoring the looks of astonishment as he watched the approaching vehicle through the back window.

'No more surprises,' he muttered, sliding the self-loading pistol into the waistband of his shorts.

The vehicle cruised to a halt a few metres behind the bus. A blue light began to revolve on the roof.

'I don't believe it!' Daniel cried. 'It's the police!' He scrambled down the steps and ran beside the bus, holding his hand up as shade against the headlights. Two figures got out from either side of the police car.

'Hello,' Daniel called, waving. 'We are tourists. Big trouble.'

The figures walked to the front of their car; Daniel could see the outline of peaked caps. One officer stepped up to him, said something.

Daniel shrugged apologetically.

Emma rushed forward, hands together in prayer. 'Please help us. My friend ...' She pointed to her heart. '... kidnapped.' Putting a hood over her head, she mimed being led away. The policeman glanced back at his colleague, then pointed up to the driver's seat in the bus. Emma nodded. She held her palm out and, with her other hand, made a walking gesture with two fingers. 'Run away,' she said, looking at them desperately. 'Please help.' She made circles with her hands and put them up to her eyes like a pair of binoculars. 'Find, Madison, look ...' She held open Madison's passport, showing him her picture.

The policeman gestured for her to step aside. He climbed on board while his colleague went back to their car. The officer's steady gaze took in Taurean's injuries – and Tina, still lying on the back seat. He sat in the driver's seat, started the engine and moved off. The police car followed.

Emma lent forward in her seat. 'We need a telephone,' she said loudly, putting her small finger to her lips, her thumb to her ear. The policeman nodded, his face expressionless.

Emma found her Da Kine spree bag. Her mobile phone displayed one bar of battery power and no signal. 'No frigging signal since Hong Kong,' she said miserably. 'Phone no good,' she gestured to the driver. 'Must call US Embassy. U-n-i-t-e-d S-t-a-t-e-s ... yes?'

The policeman nodded emphatically, pointing down the road ahead.

Daniel was not sure at which point he fell asleep but he woke with a start. The bus was still moving. He looked toward the rear. Taurean was nursing Tina. 'Is she OK?'

Taurean nodded. 'Got a headache.'

'How long have we been going?' asked Daniel, looking at his watch. It was just after three.

'About 45 minutes.'

'Surely we can't be that far from a town?'

Taurean nodded. 'If we were, these two were a long way out on patrol.'

'Maybe this is the quick way back to Guilin,' Daniel looked out the rear window at the police car following. A full moon appeared from behind hills, hardening its outline. He straightened.

'I'm gonna throw,' Tina whimpered.

'Goddam it, c'mon, Tina, get your shit together, I need your help,' Taurean said.

'I'm going to ask him where we're going,' said Daniel.

He walked down the aisle, aware that the driver was watching him in the rear view mirror. Daniel crouched next to him and pointed ahead.

'Guilin?'

The policeman nodded.

Daniel pointed at his watch.

The policeman indicated another half-an-hour.

'Crap,' Taurean shouted from the rear. 'Daniel, that ain't a police car following,' Scrambling down the aisle, he added: 'It's the same damn vehicle that snatched Madison.' His hand went to the waistband of his shorts.

'Taureen, no,' Daniel yelled.

Ignoring him, Taureen pulled out the gun but the driver had been watching and slammed on the brakes. Taurean stumbled forward, throwing out his arm to protect his head from hitting the windscreen. His finger tightened and the Smith & Wesson fired. The driver was flung against the side window; his blood sprayed the roof. Emma screamed, Vib and Daniel struggled to get up from being thrown across the seat.

The minibus slewed to a stop.

Behind, the green Pajero screeched to a halt, the removable blue light slipping from the roof.

There was a crack of shattering glass and then a soft pop like a shaken soda bottle exploding. A cloud of white gas filled the cabin. Their eyes streamed as they gagged and coughed. The second man wrenched open the door, a gas mask over his face, a pistol aimed at Taurean.

Chapter 17

Leo couldn't sleep. He threw off the sheet and walked naked to the patio doors.

Net curtains swayed in the humid air. The air conditioning was off because it rattled. He stepped onto the balcony and lit a cigarette.

Two girls emerged from the basement club opposite. He could feel the floor vibrate slightly with the thud of bass. The girls got into a waiting taxi. It circled the ornamental garden and disappeared under the arch beneath him. He should be whacked. They had got in at eight, after a ride in a farmer's pick-up. No Jon Yong. The receptionist had not seen him either.

Anger flared with the end of his cigarette. That was why he couldn't sleep; he was pissed off with his friends, Jon Yong, Wonder World, China – everything. He smacked a mosquito against his arm; stamped and missed a cockroach scuttling for the drain hole.

Wrapping a mud-stained towel around his waist, he found a whisky in the minibar. 'Typical, best hotel so far and the whinging Vib has pissed off.' He was angry with Kate too. She should be sharing his bed. She had gone without waiting for him to finish his shower. Tomorrow it would be Lian Shan; the end of the road – provided Hilary was well enough to move on to Guilin. Just Tom and him, he thought, just the two of them left from the magnificent eleven! He finished the miniature whisky.

A door slammed and windows rattled. Kate's patio doors slid open. She stepped onto her balcony, a plastic water bottle to her lips, spurting some onto the floor when she saw him. 'Christ, Leo! You gave me a fright.'

'How's Hilary?'

Kate wiped her chin. 'Zac's managed to get the whole hospital working for him. They've contained the infection which he reckoned started from dirty stitches. Hilly's still really sick but pissed off enough to get out of there, so we'll go day after tomorrow.'

'I'm sorry I missed her,' said Leo.

'Yeah, I called but you didn't hear. Taxi came early, I couldn't wait,' she replied, yawning and stretching her back. 'Damn, didn't it feel good to wash that mud off!'

'Was Jon Yong at the hospital?'

Kate shook her head. 'Nope. You think he's still waiting out there for us and we were at the wrong location?'

'Maybe ... should've come back by now though ...' Leo slapped at another mosquito. '... another complete disaster, as usual.'

'Come on love, none of this is your fault.'

'It just seems whatever I try and do at the moment it ... well, it doesn't quite work out as I expected.'

'Jesus, Leo! You're not the one in hospital with a broken leg.'

Leo rubbed his eyes. 'Sorry. But I really wanted this trip to be the beginning of something, a fresh start, a re-launch. Instead, it's the end rather than any beginning. Then there's you. I'm pissed off you're going; that's what annoys me most. I know it's selfish considering Hilary, but I would like to have spent more time with you.'

Her fingers laced with his across the narrow gap between the balconies. Slowly they kissed. He could smell her skin lotion. He opened his eyes; she was looking at him. Her pupils reflected the neon from the club sign.

He pulled back from her.

Kate sighed, rolling the cold bottle across her forehead. 'I wish we had more time too,' she said quietly. 'I think you're someone I would like to get to know a lot better.'

Leo smiled. 'We better make every second count.' He vaulted the wall. Kate cried in surprise. Leo's towel caught on the rough corner and twisted around his leg; he hopped in front of her, trying to release it. She giggled, slapping his buttocks as he finally released himself.

'That was meant to look impressive,' he said.

Kate stepped forward, an eyebrow arched, the tip of her tongue wetting her lips. She reached out and clasped him. 'Oh, I don't know. I think you look very impressive.'

Her mouth opened to his urgency. She pressed against him and his hands moved over her blouse, following the curve of her breasts, her waist, and inside the elastic band of her shorts - his fingers tracing the silk of her g-string.

'I thought I heard voices.'

Leo and Kate froze. Tom was leaning against the open patio door of his room, the white of his teeth revealing a grin. 'Have you seen Jon Yong?' he asked. He scratched his bare chest and hitched up his shorts, clearing his throat.

Reaching over the balcony. Leo retrieved his towel with as much dignity as he could.

'He wasn't at the hospital and the truck's not outside. We reckon he could still be waiting for us, maybe at a different rendezvous,' said Kate.

'I need my bloody case; my clothes are trashed,' Tom replied.

'Go and wash 'em in the shower,' said Leo, harshly.

'Got any beer in your fridge?' Tom asked. 'Drank all mine.'

Kate nudged Leo. When he returned with the beer, Kate was telling Tom how Hilary felt and that she had managed to borrow some of her clothes. Leo handed him the bottle.

'Lovely stuff,' said Tom, quickly finishing the beer. 'I'm sorry to have... disturbed you ... subtlety was never something I mastered.'

'What really made you stay, Tom?' Kate asked as she straightened a plastic chair and sat down. 'You never looked as though you were enjoying the biking.'

Tom lowered a second bottle from his lips. He shrugged.

'You know what, Tom? Coming here, celebrating friendship, it's a great thing. You should see the hundreds of people I get to counsel, lost in bottles of gin, doped to their eyeballs, despairing because they have no mates.'

'Oh come on,' Tom laughed. 'We're still mates.'

'Really?' Kate asked.

A taxi pulled into the courtyard.

'Life goes on. Things change,' said Tom.

'Sure Tom, and friendship's one of them. Like marriage, it's worth fighting for until, literally, there's no hope because, believe me, you don't ever want to become one of those sad, lonely old souls I have walking into my clinics every single day of the year.' Kate finished her beer and walked towards the door. She stopped half-way, turned and kissed Leo on the cheek. 'I need some sleep.'

'Wow! Is she on the rag or what?' said Tom.

'I heard that,' Kate said from her darkened room.

Tom belched softly.

People crowded outside the club. The taxi lurched forward, crammed with singing youngsters, while the rest walked away in a steady stream through the archway beneath them.

Tom told one of his Chinese jokes. But Leo wasn't listening. Tom asked him in a conspiratorial whisper what Kate was like. Leo still wasn't listening. Eventually, he roused himself. 'We've got a long ride tomorrow. Better get some sleep.'

'Which room will you be in ... when I knock you for breakfast?'

Tom jumped back as Leo suddenly stepped forward. But he tapped his empty beer bottle against his friend's and winked, before crossing to his own room.

'She's right, you know,' Tom whispered none too softly.

'What's that?'

'She's right. I'm sorry.'

Leo waved him away. He had been denied a last night with Kate. He lay awake, knowing their heads were separated by just a thin wall. He wondered whether he should jump the balcony and slip into her bed. Had she wanted him to do that? Several times he threw back the sheet – like a hormonal teenager. Tomorrow she was heading back to Australia and then he would never see her again. So what was the point?

*****

There was no sign of Jon Yong the next morning. Leo called Wonder World Expeditions but the office in the UK was closed. He left a message.

In the dining room the three of them sat at the table laid for eleven. Leo looked sadly at the empty chairs. 'Should we just get a taxi to the hospital?' he asked as he helped himself to scrambled egg. 'Abandon the bikes?'

'No way.' said Kate, nodding to a waiter that she would like coffee. 'Hilly can't leave until tomorrow, and I don't want to sit in a hospital all day.'

Leo pulled the map from his backpack. His clothes were scratchy, having been washed without detergent. Tom's were stained beyond recognition, but the bad smell, thankfully, had been washed from them. 'OK, let's see ... well, it's pretty obvious the route we have to take.'

'The taxi ride was an hour. About forty kilometres,' said Kate.

'OK ... about three or four hours by bike then,' Leo replied.

'Bloody lovely!' Tom mumbled.

'You can take a taxi, mate,' Leo suggested.

'Nah, all for one and all that shit.' Tom grinned.

Leo led as they rode out in single file from Yang Shan – sandwiched between a river and a steep limestone hill. When they stopped for a while on a slight rise, Leo could see, looking back, their hotel occupying a small hill to the west, like a fortress protecting the squalid streets below. The trees in its grounds provided the only greenery. Barges were three and four deep against the quay, the current tugging at their bow lines as it swept in a great curve from behind a ragged bluff. Piles of sand and aggregates lined the quay. Working cranes created a fine white dust which drifted over the drab buildings.

Rain had weathered the road to corrugated sand. Vehicles hooted as they passed in clouds of dust. They pulled their t-shirts up over their noses. Eucalyptus trees offered some shade but didn't cool them enough to prevent sweat staining their clothes back to brown.

After several kilometres, Leo pulled his bike to the side of the road. 'This is crazy,' he said. 'Why don't we pack it in, go back to town and get that taxi?'

A truck rattled by, blasting its horn; they turned away and covered their faces.

'How far have we got to go?' Kate asked, wheeling her bike over to Leo. He found the map and traced the road.

'About eighteen klicks,' he told her.

Kate smiled suddenly; the dust cracked around the corners of her mouth and eyes. She leant closer. 'It's my last day, Leo. I don't want to end it in a taxi. Talk to me, it'll take your mind off the dust.'

They set off side-by-side, Leo nearest the traffic and Tom riding behind; a disgruntled chaperone.

'OK, I'll start. Tell me how your clinics got started.'

'Well, if you really want to know ...'

Leo laughed, spitting out dust.

'First, I went to England to get a degree in homeopathic medicine ...'

'Were you ever one of those Aussies you find behind bars? Just thinking ... you might have served me once!'

'No, never did that. Ten years with Body Shop in their research labs and then a stint as a senior marketing manager in Sydney. Then I bumped into an old friend ...'

'Hilary?'

Kate shook her head. 'Nope ... could have been though, this girl was just as depressed – an alcoholic – and I knew right there, I wanted to make a difference. I tried a different approach, combining my knowledge of natural remedies with a lot of empathy. I guess the reputation spread. The rest is history, as they say. We're a corporate now. I have managers with five-year plans, goals, profit forecasts, sales trends ... I sometimes yearn for the simpler days.'

Leo suddenly wanted to change the subject. A successful business was not something he wanted to be reminded of. 'Have you ever been married?'

'Once,' she said, steering to avoid a pothole. Steadying herself, she held his arm. He saw his dust-coated reflection in her sunglasses. Kate shrugged. 'It was a mistake. I just thank God there were no children. Like you, it seems we were destined for other things.'

'It's never too late,' said Leo – immediately regretting the implication of his words.

'Yeah, maybe ... the body clock hasn't chimed midnight, but the springs are kind of worn-out!'

Leo grinned. 'Bollocks! You don't look a day over thirty.'

'You're such a charmer,' said Kate, but she did not return his grin.

'What was he like?'

'Who?'

'Your husband ... ex-husband?'

'Why do you want to know?'

'Curious ... .a guy always wants to know how he stacks up to the... ex-competition ... whether he's got a chance.'

Kate shook her head. 'Well, he was nothing like you ...' She reached out and squeezed his arm. '... which is a good thing ... he was a typical Aussie, all testosterone, rugby, beer, cricket and more bloody beer. What the hell I saw in him I have no bloody idea.'

'There must have been something?'

'Oh there was definitely something,' Kate grinned, 'but, well, you know ... let me see if I can put this into terms you'll understand ... it's like sitting in an expensive car. It may look beautiful on the outside, and everyone wants one, but inside it's just another boring bloody car that's got a bit of performance when you need it.'

`The road followed a bend in the river. It narrowed, the surface becoming more sun-baked. The avenue of eucalyptus thinned; the sun became intense. A barge struggled against the current, its rust-stained bows almost submerged beneath a rolling wave of water.

'So how come children never happened for you?' Kate asked.

Leo looked over his shoulder. He hadn't checked for some time to see how Tom was doing. He braked to a stop.

'Never the right woman at the right time, I guess,' he said. 'Do any of us plan to have kids? Don't they just sort of happen?'

'I've got a few mates who would argue with you quite strongly on that,' Kate replied, tilting her head back, drinking the last of her water.

'Where the hell is he?' said Leo.

'While we're waiting ...' Kate said, laying her bike down. She jumped a shallow drainage ditch and crossed a band of scrub to the riverbank. Kneeling, she untied her shoes, stuffing a sock into each one, then carefully made her way down the bank, her arms out, steadying herself, her body bending awkwardly as she stepped on the rough stones.

Leo watched her disappear from view and looked back down the road. It was deserted. He laid his bike next to Kate's and went to join her. She had found a flat slab of rock and was sitting on the edge, her feet in the green current.

He sat next to her after taking his shoes off. 'That's cold!'

'You'll get used to it. Just like you did last time.' Kate smiled mischievously.

'Yeah, well I don't think we can do that here,' Leo scooped up a handful of water and splashed his face.

'Coward!'

Leo wiped water from his eyes and looked at her. 'Maybe I am,' he said seriously. 'I wanted to come to your room last night.'

'You should have. I wasn't that tired.'

Leo shook his head sadly. 'Then that's going to eat me up as one of my life's biggest mistakes.'

Kate laughed, splashing him. 'Your life isn't over yet!'

He caught her hand. She let the water fall from the cup of her palm and he entwined his fingers with hers. She had pushed her glasses to the top of her head and her eyes were a clear green, sparkling like the water their feet were stirring.

'Kate, I ...'

'Fucking hell! You guys could have waited.'

They looked up the bank. Tom, his open shirt exposing a belly streaked with perspiration and dirt, scrambled down, sending a small avalanche of stones into the river. His sweat-stained pants made a loud smack as he sat heavily in the water. A cloud of dirt swirled away in the current as he lay back, allowing the water to wash over him, seemingly impervious to the cold.

'Jesus! That's better,' he said, sitting up and scooping water over his head. 'I was beginning to feel like the, um, you know ... the Pillsbury Dough Boy again!'

'You're losing weight,' said Leo.

Tom looked down at his hair-covered belly protruding from the water. 'Very funny.'

'You have kids, don't you Tom?' asked Kate.

Tom sat up, 'Yep, two girls.' He cupped more water and splashed it over his face.

'How old?'

'Five and two,' Tom replied, looked up at them, shading his eyes from the sun. 'Why?'

'We were just talking about kids,' answered Kate.

'Christ mate! I know you're a fast worker but ...'

Leo kicked out, splashing him. 'It was a generic conversation,' he said.

Tom wiped his face, suddenly looking serious. 'Well, keep it that way. Take it from me, they're expensive, offer very little in return for the investment and sometimes force you to do things you regret.'

An hour later, they had reached a small village of jumbled buildings built on the strip of land between the roadside and riverbank. A narrower footbridge arched the river to an abandoned factory. The houses had mud brick walls and pitched roofs of stripped bark held in place by exposed batons and windows without glass. Several were supported on spindly wooden piles. The village resembled driftwood piled on the riverbank, sprinkled with white satellite dishes and held together with electricity cables running in on poles from the far bank.

'I could kill for a beer,' said Kate.

They walked their bikes slowly up the deserted road, peering into the open doorways. At one of the larger buildings, a woman sat with an infant in her arms.

Tom stepped forward and asked if she had any Tsingtao. Amazingly, she nodded and beckoned them inside. Cautiously, they entered the darkened interior, revelling in the coolness. A few round tables were set on the earthen floor with several nailed-together chairs.

They had found the village restaurant.

The woman indicated for them to sit down and went to a chilled cabinet in the back of the room, its motor sending an unhealthy clunk into the stillness. She came back with three bottles, condensation running down the glass. She smiled broadly when they bowed their thanks.

It was the best beer any of them had ever had. Immediately, they ordered three more. Encouraged by his earlier success, Tom attempted to ask whether the woman had any food available. Her round face split into a smile, hiding the narrow slits of her eyes. The child studied them from her arms. Tom mimed eating with chopsticks. The child started to cry' the woman jiggled it on her hip while fetching a piece of paper, lined with columns of Chinese characters.

'Right,' Tom said, frowning. 'Well, I can almost guarantee that none of these will bring us steak and chips ... shall we go for pot-luck?'

They nodded enthusiastically, each taking it in turn to close their eyes, wiggle their fingers over the piece of paper, then show the woman what they had 'landed' on. She quickly realised what they were doing and laughed with each choice, nodding encouragingly as they showed her what pure chance had selected.

She left through a hole in the back wall. They sat back in the wobbling chairs and grinned tiredly at each other. 'This trip hasn't quite worked out the way I was expecting but ... cheers and ... well, cheers!' Leo said. They clinked bottles.

Their food arrived in white, chipped ceramic bowls. The selection method seemed to have worked.

The first was a dish they recognised from Jon Yong's patient tutoring: Lipu yu kou rou, a speciality from the Guilin area – streaky pork with peppers, mashed onion and bean curd, cooked in wine and sugar, and served with dishes of fat noodles and rice. The woman also bought steamed river fish with a sweetened sauce – a dish so tender, it melted in their mouths, each of them rating it one of the most delicious they had eaten. This was closely followed by beef with young bamboo shoots, garlic and mushroom.

They ate quickly and in silence, apart from the occasional groan of appreciation. Afterwards, the woman returned and cleared away the empty bowls, beaming even wider as they tried to convey their appreciation.

She set out three small white cups and poured tea from a kettle. Tom had just lifted the cup to his mouth when a truck rattled and banged past the front opening. He was facing the road and slopped the contents from the cup as he suddenly leapt from the table.

'That was Wang's,' he shouted, running for the door.

They followed him out into the road. Tom was standing in the middle, waving his hands above his head. The truck was already out of the village and disappearing in a cloud of dust. Suddenly, they could see its brake lights glow as it slowed to a halt. Tom dropped his arms. As the dust settled, they could see the green awning and blue bodywork.

'Do you realise how many trucks there are like that in China?' said Leo, shading his eyes as the truck started to roll backwards.

'I know. But how many with Wonder World Expeditions on the door panel?'

I better go and pay,' Leo replied, turning back.

They were bowing enthusiastically to the woman while collecting their backpacks and helmets when the truck rolled to the opening of the little restaurant. As Tom tried to explain to the woman that she did not have to give them any change, Leo glanced out of the opening and saw the Wonder World Expeditions lettering on the door panel.

'Where the hell have ...' he began to say to the man who had jumped down from the driver's door and was walking around the front of the truck.

It was not Jon Yong – nor Mr. Wang.

A muscled man, in jeans and t-shirt with a tattoo on his right forearm and a cap pulled low over his eyes walked towards them.

'Where's Jon Yong?' Leo asked.

Chapter 18

He'd opened his eyes. At least, he thought he had. Daniel reached out tentatively. He was lying on a hard surface. It was cold. He removed a stone digging into his back. He felt his head, expecting a blindfold. There was none.

'Hello?' his voice croaked.

His tongue filled his mouth. Gradually, confusion drifted away like stage mist.

He struggled upright. His throat burned with the effort. He got to his feet and the top of his head cracked against something solid. Groaning, he sank back to his knees; specks of light darted in front of him. He rubbed his head, trying to put events back in order. Emma ... Taurean driving the bus ... the police ... Taurean's gun ... the white gas ... that had been the last thing he had remembered.

Taurean had killed a Chinese policeman! Blood all over the windscreen. Daniel crawled forward, his outstretched hand shaking with his panic.

A crumbly wall. He felt above and found the wooden beam he had hit. So he ducked under, standing with his back to the wall. The place smelt of damp concrete and old bonfires. He desperately needed water. He knocked the wall. There was no echo. Feeling his way with his fingertips, he moved off. The wall curved. He came back to the beam. He was in a circular room. What kind of police cell was this? Had he already been condemned to die as punishment for his part in the policeman's murder? They could easily make him disappear. Why get a jury involved with all the foreign attention that would cause? Much easier to say he had gone missing – body never found; China very big country; so sorry for your loss.

This couldn't be happening. They were on their way home. Daniel shouted, wincing from the pain in his throat.

Tears stung his eyes and started to roll down his cheeks. His knees buckled and he slid down the wall. Images of his Janine, little Eric tottering around the living room, his restaurants, his comfortable, safe life. How could this be happening?

He staggered to his feet, terror making him forget the wooden beam. His legs collapsed under him. A distant shout, then the shock of cold water pummelling his body. Gasping, he rolled to his side, squinting against the water and the sudden square of light high above, a figure framed in the glare.

A ladder appeared. Daniel curled his fingers around the first rung and slowly climbed. At the top, he stood, swaying, looking down into his circular cell just as a heavy metal cover was pushed on rails across the opening. Similar covers lay in a line as far as a stone wall bordering a courtyard. The baked earth was the same colour as a nearby abandoned building whose bare rafters were stark lines against the low sun; Daniel couldn't tell whether it was setting or rising. More worryingly, it was now clear that he had not been in a police cell, and, the man who pushed him roughly between the shoulder blades was certainly not a policeman. The man wore a Manchester United scarf around the lower part of his face, a baseball cap on backwards and wrap-around sunglasses. He was slim and moved with alertness, his loose-fitting jeans and shirt seeming to float about him. He threw the wooden bucket that had contained the water, at Daniel, shouting and gesturing towards an opening in the building.

Broken china crunched, cutting Daniel's feet. Through another opening, he blinked at a large square, half the size of a football pitch, paved in cobbled stones; on the far side, a tiered wall, cut into the hillside and fenced at the top by trees. Parked in the far corner was their minibus, the contents of their bags scattered about it. To Daniel's right, a narrow road wound up to other buildings, all apparently abandoned. He was shoved to the left.

Daniel looked towards the minibus and the man shouted angrily. Ahead, over a low stone wall, he could see distant hills in sunlight, their slopes tiered with cultivation. As he reached the wall he looked over and down into the forested valley. Through the opening, he saw steps leading down to an open-sided, conical-roofed building. This structure was built out over the valley on thick wooden pilings. Walkways, similarly supported, went right and left, their pilings embedded in a finger of rock that had slumped from the main valley wall. One walkway led to a pagoda-shaped shrine; the other ended in torn wood where it had collapsed into the valley.

Daniel ducked under the eaves of the main building, its interior cool and gloomy. He was made to kneel in the centre of a round wooden floor, facing a figure sitting on a carved wooden throne.

'Your name?' the man demanded from the throne.

Daniel's body trembled. 'Daniel ...' He coughed. '... Stinger.'

'Why you in China?'

Daniel was gripped by a spasm of fear. 'Holiday... with friends,' he stuttered.

The face of the man was shrouded in shadow. 'Tourists do not kill Chinese!'

Daniel wiped sweat from his brow. He held out his hands. 'I am very sorry about what happened. It had nothing ...'

'Silence, gou shi!'

Daniel was suddenly aware of a noise; it briefly reminded him of an executive toy he had once been given. The click of the balls created a repetitive metallic sound.

The man rose and seemed to float toward him. Daniel could see the blur of beads in one hand. The noise increased until there was no singular click – and then it stopped. In the stillness, Daniel stared fearfully into the hypnotic black eyes, inches from his own; they did not blink.

'You have taken something from my Government,' said the man, the beads starting again.

Daniel's gaze flickered towards them, each on individual strands that looped round his interrogator's fingers, a hypnotic tack-tack as it struck the other. A brittle sound – as if the beads were of glass that might shatter at any moment.

'Answer, gou shi!'

Daniel's gaze jerked back to the face. 'I did not kill him,' he wheezed.

'Confess.'

'Taurean ... Taurean had a gun.' Daniel's mind filled with the image of the policeman's blood on the windscreen.

The man's eyes narrowed to slits. 'Your punishment will be less if you tell me where is information.'

'I'm sorry. It was an accident. The policeman ...'

The beads stopped. Yo Yo Fang nodded irritably at 'Manchester United,' standing behind him, and Daniel's arms were tied tightly behind his back. A wet piece of material, like chamois leather, was tied around his neck. Water ran down his chest; his thirst returned. Pulled roughly to his feet, Daniel felt his arms violently stretched above him via a length of rope looped over a low roof beam. He was pulled upright until just his toes supported him.

'Please ...' Daniel looked down at his captor. 'Talk to Taurean.'

Yo Yo Fang stared.

Daniel's shoulders ached. He groaned, staring up at the spiders' webs undulating in the current of humid air. His pain heightened his senses: the scream of insects in the valley woods; the occasional twitter of a bird in the trees – and footsteps. Two men, one of them Daniel recognised as the policeman from the airport road, approached him. Sudden realisation gripped Daniel through the mist of fear. These weren't policemen at all, and it hadn't been a policeman who Taurean had killed on the bus.

These men carried a pole, on which hung a figure, his fingers bloody and swollen. They turned the figure to face Daniel. Yo Yo Fang stepped up and pulled the head of the figure back. Daniel struggled to recognise Taurean. His eyes and nose were swollen, dried blood smeared his upper lip and his shorts were stained with the blood that ran from cuts on his stomach and chest. The men carrying him let go of the pole and Taurean sagged to his knees beneath the weight. Yo Yo Fang released Taurean's head and with a look of disgust wiped his hand on the shirt of the nearest pole carrier.

The rhythm of the beads began again and Taurean groaned. He tried to kneel upright but Daniel could see he had no strength.

'Taurean, it's Daniel,' he gasped, aware that the strap around his throat was beginning to tighten, forcing him to twist on the rope. 'You must tell them ... I had nothing to do with the shooting.'

Taurean's head jerked upwards, moving like a blind man's.

'Daniel?' his voice gurgled, blood dribbling from the corner of his mouth. He spat and Daniel could see a black hole where his two front teeth had been.

'Taurean what's ... what's going on?' Daniel swung on his rope, his Adams apple bobbing as he fought to keep the strap from tightening further.

'Not police,' Taurean said.

'Who?'

Taurean slowly shook his head.

Kidnappers? Daniel thought – Madison.

'Taurean ... is it Madison?'

Yo Yo Fang stopped moving his hand and in the stillness gazed at Taurean with intensity.

Taurean again shook his head.

Daniel glanced at Yo Yo Fang. 'I don't ... understand ... what ... what do you want?' he asked pathetically. He could feel his windpipe being squeezed.

Yo Yo Fang snarled. He spoke rapidly. The pole-carriers stepped forward and their fists crunched into the side of Taurean's head. Sweat and blood flew from his face. A drop landing on Daniel's lip; he could taste its saltiness. 'Stop,' he said, but his voice was barely a whisper. Another fist hit Taurean near his temple. There was a crack as his head snapped backwards over the pole. A gurgling sound escaped from his lips before his body rolled forward, the top of his head brushing Daniel's bare feet.

Taurean lay still, his head twisted sideways. Daniel stared with mounting terror. The pressure on his neck was becoming unbearable. His mouth gaped open, then shut like a stranded fish. He was going to die! Daniel Stinger was going to die! In a moment of clarity, he realised the worse thing was – he didn't know why.

Chapter 19

'Who the hell are you?' Tom demanded – a little too aggressively, Leo thought. He glanced at Kate and a flicker of concern crossed her brow.

The man bowed but his eyes never left them. A thin smile was on his lips as he swept his arm out towards the truck, gesturing for them to get on board.

Leo glanced at the woman who had been serving them. She was standing fearfully behind her dilapidated counter, the child held tightly in her arms. Who was this guy? And where was Jon Yong? Leo mimed that they wanted to carry on cycling, and that the truck should follow until they reached Lian Shan.

The man shook his head slowly and gestured again towards the vehicle.

Leo turned to the others. 'What do you think?'

Kate stepped closer. 'I don't know, Leo, but this guy's not very friendly. If Jon Yong sent him because he's fallen ill or something, then I would expect him to be a little less threatening.'

'This is too weird,' said Leo, glancing at Tom. 'Surely Jon Yong would have given him a note or something to tell us who he was. What do you think's happened to him, Tom?'

'I don't know and I don't give a shit, but I tell you one thing, I ain't going anywhere with this guy,' Tom replied. He attempted to pass the stranger at the door, but the man grabbed his arm and said something in a guttural voice. Tom tried to shake himself free but the grip on his arm tightened. He pushed aggressively against the truck driver, then, putting all his weight into his shoulder, he barged him out of the way. The man let go and stumbled back through the ramshackle furniture before a table caught him in the middle of his back and he went over, splintering wood as he fell.

'Run!' Tom yelled, darting through the doorway.

Leo looked at the woman briefly behind the counter. She was crying quietly, fluttering her hand for him to leave. The driver was pushing aside the debris.

Leo took hold of Kate's hand and pulled her after him.

Outside, Tom had already retrieved his bike and was running with it back towards the footbridge that crossed the river.

'Come on. This way,' he yelled.

'Wait, wait!' Kate shouted at Leo as he pulled her to their bikes. He swung his leg over the cross bar and impatiently held Kate's for her.

'Get on!'

'No. This is stupid. What are we running for?'

'Just get on. We'll figure it out later.'

The man reappeared, rubbing the small of his back. He shouted and started towards them. His gait hampered by the thickness of his legs, he shambled rather than ran, spreading out his arms as if he was about to sweep them both into a bear hug.

Kate gasped with fear. She tried to get onto her bike, but her foot caught in the crossbar and she hopped with the bike across the road, attempting to keep her balance. Leo rode towards the truck driver, covering the few yards in a second, and snatched at the front brake. As the back wheel lifted high, he put his weight over the handlebars and swung with his hips, swiveling the wheel towards the man who had stopped in mid-stride. The off-road tread struck the stranger on the nose. Leo leant back and powered through the pedals. The tyre rode down the man's front, the hard rubber cutting into him. He fell back and sat hard on the road, holding his face.

Leo looked for Kate. She had regained her balance and was riding for the bridge. Tom had disappeared. Leo caught up with her and, fuelled with adrenaline, they both raced up the steep incline as it arched over the river. The opposite bank was higher; once they reached the crest, it flattened and they sped to where Tom was waiting.

'Thanks for sticking around,' Leo shouted as they skidded to a halt next to him. Leo's heart was pumping, his legs trembling. The driver appeared in the gap between the buildings, holding his face. He walked to the start of the bridge. With a steadying hand on the handrail, he started to pull himself up the incline.

'I don't believe it,' said Tom.

Behind them was an abandoned factory. Its corrugated metal sides towered above. Some of the panels were missing and they could see into the dark interior: a network of girders and obscure hunks of machinery. Higher, the glass windows were broken.

Another glance towards the driver and they numbly followed Tom, as he set off alongside the building. They rounded the corner and followed a rusty conveyor belt into the mined hillside, climbing tracks that linked tiers cut into the rock face, until they reached the summit of the quarry, gasping for air.

They fell off their bikes, bent double, chests heaving.

Leo glanced back. The driver was watching them from the start of the conveyor.

After thirty seconds he disappeared back behind the building.

'Now what?' asked Kate.

Tom gulped greedily from his water bottle. Leo could feel the last of the adrenaline leave him.

'Well, we can't go back to the road, he'll be waiting for us,' said Tom, wiping his mouth.

'Glad to see you're taking this all in your stride,' replied Leo. 'Could you perhaps tell me who that was?'

Tom shrugged, settling his helmet more squarely on his head. 'I'm as scared as you, Leo. Instinct just took over. I'm good at running.'

'Yeah, well, we certainly saw that.' Leo found he was shouting. 'You elbow some gorilla out the way and leave us to wrestle with him. Some friend you are!'

'Hey! Both of you zip it!' Kate said. Leo lowered his arm. 'That gorilla was very keen for us to go with him, which means he isn't going to let us just roam around here indefinitely. We need a plan.'

Leo took off his helmet and ran his fingers through his sweat-sodden hair. 'What the fuck's going on?' he mumbled.

'I reckon this has to do with that bitch Madison,' said Tom, looking across the scar of mined earth to the building.

Leo and Kate stared at him.

Tom shrugged again 'Jon Yong knew who she was, perhaps figured out a way he could earn more than just tips. You know what I mean?'

'Bollocks! Even if they have Madison, why us?' Leo retorted.

'Good of you to feel so concerned about Madison,' said Kate.

Leo frowned. 'I'm sorry, but that selfish bitch deserves it.'

'Let's just concentrate on getting out of here, OK?'

Leo nodded, swinging the backpack off his shoulders and retrieving the map. He traced the red line Jon Yong had drawn. His finger jabbed at a dot, covered by a Chinese character. 'This must be where we are. Look, this pink line going over the river must be the footbridge.'

'How far to Lian Shan?' asked Kate.

Leo measured the distance between thumb and forefinger and transferred it to the scale at the side. The scale was in Chinese so he measured against the distance they had already gone and pressed a button on his milometer. 'We've done twelve miles this morning and I reckon we're just over halfway. So, on our original route, we would have had about another twelve to go.'

'Can we get to Lian Shan from this side of the river?' Kate looked hopeful.

They studied the map. Towns were marked in Chinese; they knew only Lian Shan because Jon Yong had written it in English. Purple and orange lines denoted roads or tracks – they didn't know which – but there were none to Lian Shan on their side of the river. 'Shit. We can't go back. Let's see ... maybe there's an unmarked track,' said Leo.

They knelt next to Tom, helping him to sit up. 'You're not having a heart attack on us?' Leo asked anxiously, holding Tom's water bottle to his lips.

Tom opened his eyes and put a hand on his chest. 'I wouldn't give the trouble and strife the satisfaction!'

He accepted the bottle with a shaking hand. Some of the liquid dribbled down his chin. 'It must be hot enough to fry an egg,' he gasped.

'This way,' Kate shouted. She had already scouted the rough scrubland that marked the edge of the mine. The wiry bushes shared their desert landscape with blocks of rusted machinery, coiled lengths of cable, plastic bottles and other rubbish. Kate was standing near a tree cleaved in two, one half green, the other, twisted black with snapped limbs. The sky was a hazy white on the horizon; indigo above. There was no sound except for Tom's panting. Leo shifted uncomfortably from the heat of the sun as he helped Tom to his feet and pushed both their bikes to where Kate waited.

'This looks promising.' She pointed down a track that meandered between the bushes and debris before disappearing into the next valley.

Kate was about to get on her bike when Leo rested his hand on her arm. She glared at him with brief annoyance before looking in the direction he was pointing. A few yards down the track, a barbed wire fence had fallen – and there was no Mr. Wang for back-up.

Leo shouldered his and Tom's bikes and set off. 'I think we should walk. There's too much crap around that could puncture the tyres,' he said.

Kate reluctantly dismounted and followed, wheeling her bike and lifting it over the strands of wire and pieces of jagged metal. They came to the point the track descended steeply down the far side of the hill. Beyond were more scrub-covered uplands. The valley bottom was a jumble of flood-strewn rocks.

As one, they turned and looked back across the river. A vehicle moved along the road, a plume of dust hanging in the air.

Leo wondered whether it was Wang's truck – but it wasn't his anymore, was it? Leo reminded himself. He swung his leg over the crossbar and felt the familiar nudge of the saddle. His backside was feeling the effect of all the riding. Tom, he thought, must be in agony.

The track's two wheel ruts, either side of a mound of scraggy grass, clambered over rocks in a series of lazy bends down to the valley bottom. Peering ahead, they noted that it then seemed to do the reverse up the next hill until it disappeared over the crest.

They went down slowly; out of the saddle, both hands on the brakes. When, later, they reached the top of the second hill. Leo was seriously concerned for Tom. They found a lone conifer and helped him into the shade.

'I think you really are losing weight,' said Leo, looking down at him.

Tom shaded his eyes and tried to grin. 'Piss off.'

Leo found Kate leaning against a rock looking into the distance. The track was lost from view within a few yards. They had climbed to a plateau. To their left was a ridge of higher mountains, but to the right, the plateau seemed to fall in a series of bumps – like a helter-skelter ride – to the valley below. They could see the river they had crossed and in the distance, the 'upturned egg box' topography of the limestone outcrops.

'Lian Shan must be somewhere down there,' said Kate.

The rock was hot from the sun. Leo followed her gaze but could see no sign of any human involvement on the landscape.

'I have to say I feel quite helpless at the moment, Leo, ...' Kate folded her arms across her chest. '... and bloody scared.' She looked up. 'Two emotions I'm not very familiar with,' she added.

Leo put his arm over her shoulders and squeezed gently. He didn't know what to say; he was feeling the same way.

'We should have gone back to the village and asked the woman in the restaurant if she had a phone, a car, anything, rather than running away into these hills.'

'He would have waited for us to do that,' Leo replied.

'Not necessarily. I think we should have tried. Maybe it was an opportunistic attack. Maybe he had stolen the truck from Jon Yong, was driving along, saw Tom step out and thought ... here's some rich westerners, I'll grab them, see what's in their wallets.'

Leo sucked on the tube that led to his Camelback. The water was warm. He offered the tube to Kate. She shook her head.

'What the hell do you think is going on?' she asked, shaking out of his hold.

'No idea, but we did the right thing in getting away from him. We'll get to Lian Shan, find Hilary and Zac, then go to the authorities. I'm sure there'll be an embassy, either yours or ours, that can help with passports.'

'Jesus! I'd completely forgotten our passports were in Wang's truck,' said Kate, pushing herself off the rock. Her eyes were full of tears. 'This is a nightmare.' She stepped into his arms, face against his chest.

'Let's take it one step at a time. We'll get out of this, I promise.' He kissed the top of her head, feeling the heat from her hair. Her arms tightened around him as Leo looked into the distance. A deep frown creased his forehead.

Tom was sitting up when they returned. His colour had reversed and he now looked too pale. His breathing was normal but when he tried to get to his feet his legs gave out and he sat down heavily. 'Help us up,' he begged, holding up his hand.

Leo pulled him to his feet. Tom swayed for a moment, his eyes blinking rapidly.

'You alright to go on?' Leo asked him.

'If the choice is getting back on that sodding razor blade of a saddle or sitting under a palm tree on a tropical beach with a naked woman serving me cold beer, then I'll go for the latter ... pity it's not.'

Leo watched him wobble away done the track, knees out, buttocks hiding the saddle.

They entered a hidden copse of dying conifers, Kate leading them through the relative cool. Leo was torn between keeping up with her and holding back to help Tom. After a mile or so the conifers gave way to taller acacia and deciduous trees, their roots frequently exposed. Tom had to dismount to negotiate them; the strength seemed to have left him completely. Fortunately, the track remained level for the next five miles, gently meandering across the plateau, never seeming to get closer to the point where it must slip down into the undulating folds and the valley below. Leo had lost sight of Kate. He followed her tread marks in the sand, wishing she had slowed down; feeling angry with Tom.

'Go on, Leo. Catch her up, I'll be alright,' Tom said after Leo complained at the length of time it was taking him to walk his bike over a series of exposed root systems.

Leo shook his head irritably.

They reached the edge of the plateau. The track was now no more than a stony pathway. Bushes met in the middle and obscured the route down. There was no sign of Kate. They set off again cautiously, the surface making it impossible to steer accurately. Soon, their arms and legs were scratched and bleeding from the coarse bushes with small yellow flowers had inch-long thorns. The scratches stung and were made worse by their sunburned skin.

Leading the way, Leo pushed through overgrown vegetation, then braked sharply. A bush, clinging to the edge of a water-carved gulley, had hidden the sharp right turn. The path ran along the edge, crossing further down where the sides had collapsed.

Leo cried out. Kate's body lay motionless, twisted between two car-sized boulders.

Chapter 20

'Yo Yo Fang held the satellite phone lightly. He listened distractedly to Trade Minister Chang.

'You told me you had them. You are failing your reputation. The Americans are angry. Demanding our full co-operation in finding their Defence Secretary's daughter.'

Yo Yo Fang remained expressionless in the air conditioned interior of the Mercedes limousine. Now was not the time to talk to Trade Minister Chang about Madison Prowle.

'Our agreement was for you to retrieve the disk within twenty four hours. Quietly. Without fuss. You do understand the implications of what would happen if the Government's involvement in your methods of recovery, was discovered?'

'Hao,' Yo Yo Fang replied quietly. 'Yes.'

He needed the 500,000 yuan the Minister had promised for the return of the Arabian pipeline agreement. He also needed the continued favour of the Trade Ministry in turning a blind eye to his business between Shanghai and San Francisco. Yo Yo Fang thought of the problems Customs could cause if they no longer ignored the exotic cars arriving from the United States in sealed containers – missing only the owners' log books. Or if they started to check the tax certificates on the copies of CDs, DVDs, Microsoft software, Playstation and Xbox games exported to the United States. Even with Napstar and similar internet downloading tools, he was still finding a ready market for copied CDs in well-presented boxes selling at 50 percent below regular retail prices.

'What are your plans?' the Minister demanded. 'Why has the special agent not talked?'

Yo Yo Fang had been convinced that the male American special agent had also been the courier. The names from the list he had obtained at the hotel had all come back from Beijing with their corresponding occupations, nationalities, addresses, credit card purchases etc – and two big red stars against the agents' names. They had entered the country without hiding their identity, claiming they were on official bodyguard protection duty. Once he finished with the Minister, he would go back and start interrogating the female agent.

'Minister Chang, I shall have the information by nightfall.'

The Minister grunted with scepticism. 'Please try and make sure your methods are not as barbaric as those in Shanghai. The press are making things very uncomfortable. It was leaked to them that the woman was an American and Hui Lee was a government employee. I think you could have handled things better.'

Yo Yo Fang's hand tightened on the receiver. He imagined giving the arrogant, corrupt Minister the same treatment, but he kept his voice neutral. 'I am very sorry if my ... enthusiasm caused you embarrassment, Minister Chang.' His lips quivered at the thought.

'And what of the missing foreigners?' asked Chang.

Yo Yo Fang's anger flared again. The Minister was irritating. He could feel the black coils writhe through the passages of his brain.

'Two at the hospital. The others will be found shortly,' he replied.

'You have checked all their belongings?'

'Yes, Minister Chang.'

'You do not think this is a matter of concern?'

'No, Minister Chang, whoever is the courier would have hidden it well. We will find out where ... very soon.'

Yo Yo Fang thought of the laowais' belongings scattered around the minibus. He had searched each case and item of clothing meticulously and had found nothing. He had played all the CDs that they had been carrying; none of them contained the information. He admitted he was puzzled as to how they had concealed it. He was looking forward to finding out.

'Do not fail me.' The line clicked silent.

Yo Yo Fang slowly replaced the handset and got out of the Mercedes. It was parked in the display ground of the abandoned village of Yaozang. For generations the minority Yaozang people had lived in their government-built village and paraded their customs, dress and traditions to daily coach-loads of tourists, until television and human rights activists showed the latest generation that they no longer had to accept being treated like zoo animals. Three years ago, they had packed their traditions and moved away to tenement blocks in Guangshou.

The ticket booths and turnstiles lay broken and twisted; torn out by the departing citizens. The souvenir shop remained intact because of its protective tiled roof, but inside the shelves had collapsed and the display stands, rotted. Weeds choked the narrow streets and young trees poked their heads through the bare rafters. A rusty blue sign directed the visitors who now never came down the main thoroughfare. On the way, other signs drew attention to the overhead pipe-work that ingeniously transported running water around the village from the rainwater reservoir further up the hill. Another sign pointed across the main cobbled parade ground to the dance hall, where the chief of the village had sat on his throne, welcoming the tourists while his people demonstrated local routines in traditional costume. At the end of the display, rice wine had been served. Its delicate flavour concealed a potency which became famous, filling the streets with giggling tourists.

Yo Yo Fang entered one of the abandoned buildings. He glanced up at the sunlight beyond the exposed rafters. In the corner was a wooden table leaning on two legs against a crumbling wall. A Singer sewing machine clung to the rotten wood, its chrome trim pitted with rust. Sun-blackened corn hung from a pole running the length of the veranda. The Yaozang had not even taken their food with them. The rafters had begun to twist. Seasoned beams had transmuted to serpent coils. Yo Yo Fang sank to the floor, heels together, arms hanging loosely at his sides. He needed to reach further; his enemies had become stronger. He slipped quietly down into their stronghold. So softly did he approach, they were unaware of his presence. He sat among the writhing, twisting shapes. They stopped moving the instant they heard the resonating sound. As it built, he watched the heads turn from far along their wet, black bodies. They found him; their heads reared, hooded like cobras with the faces of his enemies. They lunged forward – it was getting harder. He found his shield. The head of Minister Chang struck and dissolved with a wretched cry. One after the other, they struck but he had found his protection.

Yo Yo Fang opened his eyes. The Singer sewing machine was lying at his feet. The table had collapsed into a rotten heap; the black husks of corn lay scattered on the floor.

He was aware of one of his men approaching the doorway. 'The cages are ready, Tau Zi,' the man whispered, in awe of his leader's power.

Yo Yo Fang continued staring at the Singer. 'And the others?' He looked up sharply when the man did not reply.

'There is a ... complication, Tau Zi.'

Yo Yo Fang rose to his feet in a fluid movement and was facing the man before he had time to blink his surprise.

'We ... we think someone else is interested in these people.'

Yo Yo Fang's eyes narrowed and the beads started clicking rapidly. 'Tell me!' he ordered.

'I sent my cousin to collect the foreigners but they had left the hospital. The others were not at the hotel and when we searched the roads, we could not find them.'

'You are an idiot for not going yourself. First, you tell me you have all these foreigners, then I find half are missing. Now you tell me someone is trying to muscle into my business. Who?'

The man bowed deeply. 'My cousin is still very upset with the murder of Wan, Tau Zi. He perhaps did not ask the right questions, but on your instructions he was careful not to raise suspicion by going to the police. All the hospital would say is that they left in a truck ... which they thought unusual.'

Yo Yo Fang's arm shot forward and his fingers sunk into the soft flesh of the man's throat, causing his eyes to bulge and sweat to break out on his round face. 'You will go and ask the right questions. You will find these ... these shit-eaters who dare to muscle in on my business, and you will bring me their balls stuffed in their dead mouths. You will find the other foreigners ... or you will not see tomorrow.'

Yo Yo Fang released his grip and the man stumbled backwards, gasping.

'Go!'

The man shambled away, his hand to his throat. He tripped up the steps to the car park where the green Pajero was parked.

Who else could be involved? Who else knew? Yo Yo Fang glided down the steps; the weeds seemed to part before him. He glanced briefly towards the minibus. Anger flared as he saw again the shattered and blood-spattered windscreen. Wan had been a good, trustworthy man. But the agent had paid for his murder; now it was the woman's turn. The disk was somewhere on the minibus. He had to believe he was right about that – and that it had not left the country by another means. One of his prisoners was the courier, he was sure, but his confidence was tempered by their stubbornness.

Chapter 21

Leo scrambled down the loose sand. A rock gashed his calf but he was oblivious to the sudden pain.

Down in the dry riverbed the heat was oppressive. There was no vegetation. A brown lizard scuttled into shade under the boulder near to which Kate lay.

Leo knelt. She was on her side. There was blood on her forearm and a dark stain in the sand. He pressed two fingers against her neck.

'Thank God,' he felt her pulse. He swept strands of hair from her cheek, afraid to move her.

'Kate,' he felt down her exposed arm and leg. There was a smear of rock dust on the top of her helmet.

'Pour some water onto her mouth,' Tom called down. 'Don't worry. If she had broken her neck she wouldn't be breathing.'

Leo glared up at him. 'Bollocks! Superman survived,' he mumbled, but he could not think of anything else to do. He gently manoeuvred Kate so that she was lying on her back. Scrambling over to her bike, he turned and came back with her water bottle. He dribbled some of the liquid into the corner of her mouth, while unclipping the straps to her helmet. 'Kate.' He checked her arm, which had been trapped beneath her body. Carefully feeling the skin over her joints and bones, he was relieved that nothing appeared to be broken. Her main injury seemed to be the gash on the forearm. The other cuts and scrapes were superficial. He dribbled more water and this time Kate moaned, rolling her head slightly away from the splash of the water. Her eyes fluttered open and gradually focused.

'Don't move. Lie still,' Leo said, holding the neck of the bottle to her lips. He allowed a little of the water to flow and her lips parted. 'You're OK. Just a bad fall.'

'I feel sick,' she whimpered. 'My arm hurts.' She tried to lift it but Leo restrained her.

'Lie still,' he urged her. 'You've cut your arm, but nothing serious. You thinking you might be Evil Knievel?'

Kate's lips quivered. 'How far did I get?'

Leo looked briefly from one bank to the other. They were halfway. 'He would have been impressed.'

Shrugging off his backpack, he laid it under her head. 'I'm going to take your helmet off.' He laid it to one side, relieved to see that there was no blood, then positioned his body so that she lay in shade. Kate closed her eyes. Leo looked over his shoulder, up at Tom, who was now sitting in the shade of the bush, his legs hanging over the side of the gulley. 'How about getting down here and giving us a hand?' said Leo.

Kate suddenly moved beneath him. 'We've got to get going,' she groaned as she tried to sit.

'No way,' said Leo. He carried her into the shade of one of the boulders. She had lost her sunglasses and squinted to look up the bank. 'Wow!' she groaned, looking at her arm.

'You're bloody lucky you didn't break anything,' said Leo, pouring water over the gash. It ran pink into the sand. 'I need to clean that,' Pulling his rucksack over to his feet, he bought out his first aid box. Selecting a sterile pad, he dabbed at the wound, running water over it to flush away the grit and sand.

Leo pulled out a tube of ointment. 'This is Betadine. I'm going to mix it with some water and use it to flush out the wound so it's completely clean. You're not allergic to iodine, are you?'

Kate shook her head. 'You're a regular Florence Nightingale, aren't you? Where did you learn all this stuff?'

'I have to know basic first aid to run my business,' he replied, retrieving a bottle of Ibuprofen from his rucksack. 'Here, take a couple of these before I use the rest of the water to mix the solution.

When he was satisfied all her cuts had been cleaned and her forearm was bandaged, Leo allowed her to stand. Tom had made his way down into the gulley and had retrieved her bike. He was examining it as Leo helped her clamber over the boulder.

The front wheel was buckled and the handlebars were twisted, one set of rapid shifters hanging loose.

Kate put her hand up to her head. 'Mr. Wang's not going to be happy,' she said, forgetting for the moment the huge man who had clambered out of Wang's cab back at the village.

'You must have hit this rock with your front wheel,' said Leo, 'and then gone over the handlebars ... must have landed in the sand between the two rocks. You were incredibly lucky.'

Tom handed the bike to Kate. She snatched her backpack off the carrying shelf at the rear and threw the bike to the ground. 'That's a load of crap, Leo. I shouldn't have been here in the first, bloody place. What are we going to do now? I've got to get to Hilary and Zachary.' She glared at both of them. 'I've had enough of this nightmare. I'm sick of this bloody country, these bloody bikes and this bloody holiday. I want to go home.' Tears started to roll down her cheeks, leaving tracks in the dirt.

Leo stepped forward but she held up her hand. 'I'm serious, Leo, I've had enough. This is stupid. We don't even know what we're running from.'

'I know. We need to get to Lian Shan,' he replied.

'What about that fat Chinese guy that tried to kill us?' said Tom.

'We don't know he was trying to kill us, Tom. You created that whole scene by running away. You made us panic.' Kate weaved between the rocks, then stopped and looked back. 'I'm going to the river, and then I'm shouting long and hard until someone takes me across. Then I'm going to get a ride into town and hook up with my friends, and then ... then I'm going home.' She swung the pack over her shoulder and staggered away.

Leo stepped forward but Tom rested a hand on his arm. 'Leave her. She needs to be alone.'

'Since when did you become an expert?' Leo snapped, roughly making sure that his backpack was zipped closed. He retrieved Kate's abandoned cycling helmet. 'I'm not letting her go off on her own again.'

'What about the bikes?'

'Leave them here. If we get across the river we won't need them. If we don't, we can come back for them.'

'This is stupid, Leo. We've got another ten miles to go at least. What happens if we don't get a lift on the other side?'

Leo realised Tom was not following him. He looked back to where he was standing. 'We'll get a lift, I'm sure.'

'You complained at Vib for sniffing around the women on this trip. Now you're doing exactly the same. Leave her. We've got a ride to finish.'

Leo stopped walking and looked back at his friend. For a moment he felt sorry for him; he looked lost, rejected – a small boy in a shopping mall with growing fear that he'd lost his mother. Unbuttoned shirt, white belly, baggy shorts. 'I don't understand you, Tom. You've done nothing but complain since we got here. Now you suddenly want to finish the ride!'

Tom tried to grin. 'Yeah, I realise I haven't been a good mate. I'm trying to make up for it. You're a good friend, Leo, always have been. I just feel guilty I suppose. Don't want to lose you, that's all.'

Leo's arms dropped to his side. Briefly he glanced in the direction Kate had gone.

'Your timing is perfect, Tom,' He said. 'Kate's just nose-dived a rock and you're pulling the big buddy thing on me.'

Leo hooked his thumbs in his backpack straps. 'Come on. We'll find fresh bikes on the other side and continue with the ride. Right now, I need to make sure Kate is OK.' He set off again.

'I can't go, Leo.' Tom's voice echoed off the steep gulley-sides. A small bird fled along the ridgeline, before darting into cover in one of the bushes with an irritable twitter.

Leo didn't turn around. He carried on walking. 'Stop playing silly buggers, Tom, and hurry up.'

'Leo! I really can't go.'

Leo hesitate. He stopped and turned. Tom's body was hidden now by a jagged black rock. He had taken off his helmet and was rubbing a hand through his hair.

'I know what they're after, Leo,' he said quietly.

Leo cocked his head to one side. 'What are you talking about?'

'It's me.'

Chapter 22

A river, like a smoke tendril, snaked through hazy orange fields and leafless blue trees. The canoes' passage left no wake and when he dipped his fingers over the side, it coated him in mercury; sweating, he looked at the others – there was comfort in their laughter; it calmed him. These were his friends; they would see that no harm came to him. He picked up his paddle, joining in the laughter. Who was that sitting in front? The back was smooth, dark, toned, a large black tattoo on the right shoulder. What was it? It looked like a snake or a dragon, or a woman maybe with long black hair. The figure turned and he recognised the face. Vib was saying something ... it became urgent: 'We've got to catch them.' He put his paddle over the side. It clanged against the surface – like a stick against a dustbin lid. He tried again; his paddle broke.

Vib's expression softened: 'Don't worry.' The muscles in his shoulders bunched as his paddle dipped into the viscose surface. Astonishingly, the canoe shot ahead. The others were faint blobs before a bend in the river; he wanted to be where they were; it looked safer. The sun was shining; a rainbow became a bridge, his friends, looking down, waving, beckoning. He looked at his hands; they were stuck together with the hardened metal, Vib was paddling, his arms a blur, but the tattoo was growing on his back, spreading across his shoulder blades. It was now ivy, black stems with little thorns that were scratching his skin, making it bleed. Withered black leaves, spread from the stalks.

Like a speeded-up film, the ivy grew rapidly down his back – dribbles of blood. He shouted at Vib, but the more he yelled, the faster he paddled, the quicker the ivy grew. The others had stopped waving. Wearing dark suits, sunglasses, hey stood, silently, erect, to attention as if at a funeral. The ivy now crept over the band of Vib's shorts, onto the seat; he could see little tongues, snake tongues, flickering from the end of the leaves. As they scratched across the deck, he pulled his legs towards him, but they too were sealed in the shiny metal. He screamed for Vib to stop, but Vib kept going faster, speeding the growth of the ivy.

He could not see his body. The river had gone. They were on a road, in a truck, its canvas covers flapping wildly. 'Don't worry mate, I'll get you out of here.' Vib was trying to paddle for the verge; the truck's grille turned into a mouth, the headlights to mean black circles that glittered, then narrowed; eye-like, the truck opened its mouth...

Daniel gasped with the cold. Images swirled and cannoned off each other, transformed; a mélange of colours swirled in front of him; a loud buzzing filled his head. He blinked away the water and his vision slowly returned, pushing away the fuzziness. The mean black eyes were centimetres from his. Daniel was instantly transfixed by the malevolence in their dark centres. He watched the last of his dream disappear, like dirty water sucked down a plughole.

'No more fucking with me, laowai,' the voice hissed. 'You will say where information is.'

With effort, Daniel looked away. Pain flooded down his arms and he looked up to the rafters. He could feel the rawness of his throat. The piece of material that had tightened as it dried had been removed but his throat felt on fire. He licked the remaining water from his lips.

The face of his torturer stepped away a few paces. It smiled and Daniel shivered.

'Your name? Daniel Stinger, yes? My name...Yo Yo Fang.' He bowed slightly. 'I give you personal guarantee...you go free when you give information stolen from Chinese Government.'

Daniel could feel the weight of his body pulling the skin away from his wrists. He struggled to concentrate. 'Information?'

'Daniel Stinger,' the man shook his head, 'yes we plough fields with buffalo, yes we do not have Starbucks,' he smiled wickedly, 'but we not stupid. Here ...' He waved a sheet of paper, 'you British spy... yes...MI6...'

Daniel squeezed his eyes shut, forcing his mind to concentrate. 'No ... no, I don't know what you're talking about. I'm a businessman ... restaurants ... I'm not a spy.' Suddenly, he had an image of Leo. He concentrated on the familiar face.

'Do not fuck me,' Yo Yo Fang snarled, 'this very good intelligence...'

'I don't understand ... Taurean and ... and Tina, they work for the U.S. Government.'

Yo Yo Fang dismissed this with two cracks on his beads. 'They are shuey nio... buffalo...muscle, no brain,' Yo Yo Fang grinned slyly. 'You are intelligent one.' He stepped forward. Daniel could smell spice. 'I watched your friend die; it was ... electrifying!' Yo Yo Fang bared his teeth. 'Sarah J,' he whispered.

Daniel stared, transfixed by the satanic eyes.

'I ... this was a holiday ... with friends ... I have restaurants in England ... a wife and son ... please, you have to believe ... please ...'

'Ah so ... this is like name, rank, serial number, yes?' Yo Yo Fang moved away. 'Restaurants ...' he clicked a bead. 'Wife ...' Click, 'Son ...' Click. He repeated the three words, interspersed with more clicks, faster and faster as he moved slowly around the circumference of the polished wooden floor. The clicks were a continuous sound by the time he arrived back in front of Daniel. He stopped and in the silence Daniel could hear his heart pounding. 'You lying, Daniel Stinger. Tell me where information is, or friends die.'

Daniel swung on his arms; tears stung his eyes. 'I don't know what you're talking about.' He tried to shout but his voice was no more than a croak.

Yo Yo Fang looked past him. There was a sudden flash of light above Daniel's head. Immediately, the pressure on his arms disappeared and he fell forward, his head cracking against the smooth wooden floor. He was yanked to his feet knees trembling. Yo Yo Fang had towards the throne. The man with the Manchester United scarf faced Daniel, the severed rope in one hand and a Tai Chi sword in the other. He waved the point in front of Daniel's eyes.

'He very unhappy with all laowai. His cousin you killed on the bus,' Yo Yo Fang said, from the far side of the floor.

'I am very sorry,' Daniel said as the man backed away, holding the sword millimetres from his eye, pulling on the rope attached to his tied hands. They ducked under the low eave behind the throne, and out on the remaining walkway to the pagoda shrine. Carvings of dragons and a Buddha on the corners of the roof were bleached of colour. Daniel could see through the slats of wood, down into the valley either side of the finger of rock on which the walkway was built. Boulders, some the size of houses, lay strewn across the valley floor. 'Manchester United' lowered the sword and tied the rope to the railing. Daniel felt giddy with vertigo.

Across the chasm between the walkway and the cliff face, Daniel's attention was caught by movement above a protective wall. Three A-frames had been erected supporting 30 centimetre cross-section poles, stretching across the void to where Daniel stood. As he watched, a large wooden cage was maneuvered towards him by a series of pulleys. It swung crazily over the drop, its side nearly touching the pagoda.

Daniel heard screaming. Two other cages were swung over the wall and pulled out to the end of their poles. From a few feet away Daniel looked at the terrified faces of Emma, Vib and Tina. They held onto the flimsy wooden bars of their cages, like convicted prisoners at the gates to a medieval castle.

'Many years ago laowai,' Yo Yo Fang said quietly, standing next to Daniel as he watched the swinging cages, 'I came this place, watched Yaozang use shi vultures ... like ugly black Buddhas, sitting like your friends until chief wanted to hunt.' Yo Yo Fang bared his teeth. 'I very happy to find these cages.'

One of his men came down the walkway carrying a length of wood, He retrieved three spare ropes hanging from each cage and tied them off to a post supporting the pagoda.

Daniel stared numbly at each stricken face.

Yo Yo Fang made a signal to a man on the wall. The ropes leading from the A-frames went slack and the pagoda lurched as the weight of the three cages was transferred. Emma screamed as her cage dropped a few feet.

Yo Yo Fang walked over to the rope connected to the nearest cage, the one holding Tina. He untied it from the post, making sure his man still had one end around his waist. He walked with the other end to Daniel.

'Where is information?' Yo Yo Fang demanded.

The rope slipped from around the waist of Yo Yo Fang's man. Daniel gasped as he felt the rough fibre run through his fingers. He snatched at it, twisting a loop round his wrist. The weight crushed him against the railing, threatening to pull him over.

Tina's cage had descended to a point where her face was now level with Daniel's feet. She was screaming, her eyes wide, her terror echoing off the grey cliff face.

Sweat stung Daniel's eyes. He could feel his palms become slippery. The rope squeezed out of his grasp. He wedged his shoulder against the post of the pagoda, closed his eyes. Brilliant specks of light filled his vision. 'Please ... I can't hold ... please ... I don't know about any information ...' Daniel groaned in despair.

Emma and Vib were yelling in their own desperation. Emma shouted phone numbers for people back in Washington who could be contacted for ransom over Madison. Vib yelled for Daniel to say anything that would get them released.

Tina looked up at Daniel, her face glistening with sweat, her eyes huge. 'Daniel ... tell them ... tell them what they want to know.' she implored him.

He looked down at her, keenly aware of the blood pumping through his head. The muscles in his arms were twitching; his veins, blue and exposed.

'No.' The breath exploded from him and the cage slipped a few inches. 'I can't. I ...'

'Do you have the information?' Tina screamed.

Daniel could see how hard she was trying to control her terror. 'Can't ... hold on ... I don't know ...'

Yo Yo Fang knelt so that his head was closer to Tina's. 'Where is information?'

'Hidden ... I show you,' Tina said.

Yo Yo Fang cocked his head to one side and watched a beetle scuttle along a wooden floorboard. 'What does information say?'

'Please, I know where it is,' Tina said quietly.

Yo Yo Fang waited.

'Let us go, I will tell you what it says ...'

'Was your contact in Shanghai, man or woman?' Yo Yo Fang asked, still watching the beetle scurry to and fro along the woodwork, desperately looking for a gap to squeeze into.

Tina looked helplessly at Daniel. He squeezed his eyes shut, his cheeks blown out, the strain etched into every line.

'It was a ... man,' she shouted.

Yo Yo Fang slowly turned his head and regarded her much the same way he had the beetle. 'Shuey nio.'

The rope had shredded the skin from around Daniel's wrists. His blood coated the fibres. 'I can't hold ...' He tried to pull back with his body from the post.

Yo Yo Fang spoke slowly. 'Her life in your hands. Tell me where information is and she lives.' He pulled the piece of paper from his pocket, waved it again in front of Daniel's face. Daniel tried to focus on the Chinese characters. His name had been printed in English and, after a couple of characters, he saw through his blurred vision; MI6. 'Our intelligence says, you employee for British Government. You cannot deny any more.'

'On the bus,' Daniel gasped.

Yo Yo Fang stepped quickly to his side and motioned the man with the black t-shirt to step forward; swiftly, he looped the rope round his shoulders. Daniel stepped away, his chest heaving, blood dripping from his fingers.

'Where on bus?' Yo Yo Fang demanded.

Daniel bent over, resting his hands on his knees as he tried to regain his breath. His forearms jumped spasmodically. He coughed and spat on the floorboard, his mouth full of blood where he had bitten his tongue.

'Spare tyre. I hid the information in the spare tyre,' he said without looking up.

Yo Yo Fang was silent. Eventually, Daniel did look up.

'Was information on paper or disk?' Yo Yo Fang asked.

Daniel looked desperately along the rope to Tina's terrified face.

'Disk,' he whispered, clenching his fists.

Yo Yo Fang walked to the edge of the pagoda. He signalled to the man on the wall. 'Check again the spare tyre on the bus.'

'Hao Tau Zi,' came the distant shout.

Yo Yo Fang stared at the top of the wall. After a few minutes the beads started to clack in time to the pendulum creak of the rope attached to the cages.

Daniel recovered his breathing. He could not look at Tina but glanced at the other two, paralysed with fear. Vib had managed to reach through from his cage and was holding Emma's hand. They were both pale. Emma's head was bowed, her shoulders shaking. Vib looked silently at Daniel, his dark hair plastered to his skull, his clothes, torn and stained. His shoulders sagged forward – like the vultures which the Yaozang had once kept, Vib looked like a captured bird, a subdued example of a once proud, arrogant specimen.

The man reappeared on the wall. There was a heated exchange.

Daniel could hear his heart pounding.

Silence.

Yo Yo Fang remained with his back to him.

Daniel looked back at Vib, tears staining his cheeks. He took a step forward, but 'Manchester United' shook his head, his eyes expressionless above the scarf.

'You lie to me,' said Yo Yo Fang quietly. The rope slipped from around the barrel chest of the other man. Daniel lunged for it. His fingers closed over the coarse fibres, but his hands, slick with blood and sweat, were unable to stop it. The end whipped away. He threw himself across the floor, momentarily trapping it, but it tugged away from under him. He scrambled after it.

Tina's scream ripped through the still air.

Startled birds flew up from their roost in the tree tops. Daniel watched, horroried, unable to tear his gaze away. The cage exploded in a cloud of dust and flying debris. Mercifully, he did not see Tina's body. Her scream died instantly – its echo would never leave him.

Emma became hysterical, threatening to shake the cage loose from the supporting A-frame. Vib had released her hand and sat cross-legged, his chin on his chest.

Daniel reached for Emma but he was pulled away. Anger bloomed and he tried to wrestle free, but he was held tightly. Yo Yo Fang appeared in front of him.

'I leave for a few hours.' He pointed at the sun dipping to the horizon. 'You think about friends, tell me where disk is.'

They tied Daniel's hands to the rail.

Yo Yo Fang glided away along the walkway, his figure flitting through the shadow of the trees until he appeared as neither substance nor imagination. He left 'Manchester United' with the sword, on guard. The other two men left with him.

Daniel collapsed to the floor, numb with exhaustion.

Chapter 23

'What do you mean, it's you?' said Leo.

Tom flapped his arms against his sides. 'I did something stupid.'

Leo looked over his shoulder in the direction Kate had disappeared, anxious to catch up with her. He looked back at Tom, 'What?'

Tom scooped up a stone, weighed it in his hand and tossed it in the air a few times. 'Does it matter?'

'I don't believe this. Of course it matters, Tom,' Leo replied, his voice getting louder.

Tom threw the stone towards the top of the gulley. It didn't reach the top but tumbled down the side, catching others as it went. 'Forget it. Go and catch up with Kate.'

Leo felt sweat running down his sides. 'She can't get far.'

Tom picked up another stone. 'About a month ago this guy came into the showroom ...' He threw the stone and this time it cleared the lip of the gulley. There was a distant crack as it struck. '... things have not been great, even with Mercedes. People have stopped spending money.'

'Come on Tom,' said Leo impatiently.

But Tom was not going to be hurried. He sat in the shade of the rock and squinted up at Leo. 'I have targets to reach, you know, and each month the fuckers raise the bar another few thousand. It never ends. You do well, they raise the bar; you meet that, they raise it some more. I'm always chasing my tail, always looking for extra to make my target, otherwise we slip down the league table and bam ...' He clapped his hands together. '... before you know it, you're out on your arse.'

Leo sat next to him, sighing deeply as Tom continued.

'It's tough, it really is. And do you ever think they thank you? The bastards just grind you down, then spit you out and bring ...'

'Tom I've heard all this before, remember? That's why we accept you being a miserable, cantankerous old git, but what the hell has this got to do with the guy back at the village?'

'This bloke who came into the showroom ... he offered a way to get rid of our second-hand car stock at forecourt prices ... the trouble was, it involved exporting them without paying the required taxes.'

Leo frowned.

'It involved a VAT scam, OK? These Chinkies bought the cars under various bogus names and all I had to do was classify them as car-derived vans, which businesses can deduct VAT from. You can't do that with cars.'

Leo sat up on his haunches.

'I was selling on your family hatchback as a car-derived van, and they were getting the VAT back before slipping them into a container. The clever part was, they were then claiming thirteen percent back again on VAT for exporting them.'

'To China?' Leo asked.

'No, they never got this far. They were chopped and sold back into Manchester or Edinburgh.'

Leo blew out his cheeks. 'So?'

Tom scratched his beard. 'Well, Customs and bloody Excise were onto them weren't they!' He threw a pebble at a lizard which vanished under a sun-bleached branch. 'They threatened to tell the directors everything unless I helped them catch these bastards.'

Leo shook his head in amazement. 'I can't believe I'm hearing this.'

'Yeah, well, you don't know what it's like trying to support a family nowadays. The little fuckers cost a fortune.'

'A lot of people manage without bending the rules.'

'Don't get fucking high and mighty with me!' Tom snapped.

Leo scrambled from the shade under the rock. 'All this ...' He stabbed his fist in the direction they had come from. '... is because you pissed off some tax-evading car thieves?'

'They were into a lot of other things. This was just something the police could definitely prove and convict them for,' Tom replied.

'Did they?'

'Yep, a whole bunch of them went to prison.'

'And they were all Chinese?'

Tom nodded.

'So, why the hell did you come out here?' Leo shouted.

'I thought the police got them all. I didn't know they would be this serious about it,' Tom said thoughtfully, digging his ear with a finger.

'You really are one selfish son of a bitch, aren't you?' Leo kicked at the branch and the lizard scurried after it. 'You could have said something. We are meant to be friends! This trip is certainly proving otherwise.'

'It all happened so quickly ... sorry.'

'I'm going to find Kate.'

'What should I do?'

Leo stopped. 'Come on. We'll get across and go to the police. Something we should have done in the beginning.'

'But what if they're waiting for me?'

Leo pinched the bridge of his nose. 'Look, I need to go and find Kate. Let's see what she thinks.'

'I'll stay here with the bikes.'

'Do what you want, Tom.' Leo walked away, navigating the dams of broken branches and brittle vegetation cemented in cracked mud. 'That seems to be the order of the day – bugger everyone else,' he said as he left.

Leo rounded a promontory of crumbling rock and sand; the gulley widened into an alluvial plane, where the storm waters had washed the sand and silt into a fan before entering the river beyond. The surface glittered with quartz from the low sun. Leo shaded his eyes from the glare. He followed Kate's footsteps – a clear path to the river's edge. They became chaotic.

'Kate,' he shouted. He searched the far bank. It was in deep shadow – the trees, distorted silhouettes.

'Kate.' He ran, following her footsteps until they turned back. He searched the river for a boat or anything floating. Nothing in either direction. Panic seized him. Leo searched the sand for any sign that a boat had beached, or for another set of footprints. He ran out into the water; it shelved quickly. When he was up to his chest he could feel the current pulling him. 'Kate,' he yelled again. His aching mind raced with scenarios of crocodiles – were there any in China? Pirahnas? If a boat had picked her up, where was it? He hadn't been that far behind. She was dazed and confused and he had let her go off on her own. He sat, head in hands.

Then he heard movement behind him.

Tom plodded across the sand towards him. 'Did she get across?'

Leo shook his head. 'I don't know. There's no sign of her.'

Tom stood at the water's edge. 'Well, maybe a boat took her downstream.'

'Maybe. Or maybe she tried to swim and lost consciousness from the dive she took on her bike. A dive that shouldn't have happened ...' Leo jumped up and slammed into Tom, sending him stumbling out into the river, where he lost his footing and fell. 'If anything's happened to her, I'm going to deliver you to the Chinese myself,' Leo added as Tom came spluttering to the surface.

Tom stood in the gloom, uncertain whether he should risk wading out to the beach. 'She's fine mate. She persuaded some boat captain to take her down river. Anyway, why do you care so much? You only just met.'

'Jesus, Tom! You're a real piece of shit, you know that? How I could ever think of you as a friend staggers me!' He strode across the luminescent sand. He could see their footprints. A sad lie – it appeared they had arrived together.

*****

The sky was a dusty pink in the East; the few clouds, ink blotches. Leo could barely see the ground and although the air was night-chilled, he was sweating. He eased his bike off his shoulders. He could hear Tom panting and cursing as he followed the same route up the gulley-side.

They had not spoken. Leo had not slept, his discomfort exacerbated by his attempts to get comfortable in the slight depression he had made in the sand. Tom had fared worse; Leo had taken some solace from listening to his teeth chattering all night. He had attempted to apologise, but Leo felt beyond caring. It was Tom's problem.

The scrub bushes were black and featureless against the lighter sand. Leo picked out the path they had been following. He put his watch close to his eyes. The face was still obscured with condensation. He wondered why he kept it on his wrist.

'What time is it?' he asked Tom when he arrived, blowing like a steam train.

'Just ... after...five.'

Leo swung his leg over the bike. He had thought about swimming the river. But in the time that would have taken – had he managed to get across the freezing, fast-flowing water and then found a ride – he would probably have managed to cycle to the nearest town. He pedalled hard along the feint scar of path, the sand sucking effort from the tyres. He soon lost the sound of Tom grunting and groaning behind. The track surface varied, the tyres gripping the rock. It enabling him to build up speed, before sinking into more sand. His fear and anger powered him, tunnelling his vision to the path. He missed the transformation from night to dawn, the colours seeping back into the countryside. He didn't hear the few birds give a brief chorus; he didn't see the lizards crawl to vantage points and revel in the first rays of warmth. Nor did he stop and turn his own face to the sun, feeling its benign warmth before its full ferocity pushed back the last of the blackness in the sky and, in its blue ceiling, wilted everything in view.

A breeze cooled the sweat on his face and rustled the sun-licked heads of the tall grass that filled the gaps between isolated fir trees. The path narrowed further – maybe he was following a natural fault on the landscape. Several times, he braked hard to avoid tree stumps, cut level with the grass.

He had lost sight of the river. It had meandered away through the folds of green hills below him. The route finally began to angle down. He had sucked his Camelback dry.

Twice, his conscience stopped him and he looked back along his track. There was no sign of Tom. He thought about waiting for him but his anger returned, and he pedalled on. If Tom got lost ... well, he wasn't sure whether he cared.

The track became more pronounced again, and steeper. It started to descend through a mature pine forest; the change from dry browns to sprouting green lost on him. Each tree seemed the same height and width – fifteen metres high, six metres from branch tip to branch tip.

Leo now saw vehicle tracks; then, after another mile, logging trailers and cutting equipment. The track no longer had vegetation growing down the middle. It steepened as his milometer displayed 20 mph. The front suspension worked hard over the bumps and branches littering the surface. In the distance, he heard the buzz of a chain-saw, and then, as he sped round a corner, beyond a fringe of scrub and tall acacia, he reached a surfaced road.

He skidded to a halt as a truck laboured by, thick smoke coming from its stacks as it pulled a load of cut timber up the incline. He could smell the pine sap before the choking diesel covered him. Ahead, for as far as the eye could see, was green, but neither cultivated nor fully wild; instead, a land constantly battling between the two – unique Chinese scenery. A lot of it was timberland, waiting for the trees to grow back through the scrub; in other areas, it looked like farmers had lost the battle to protect their fields.

Again, Leo thought of Tom. He found a stick and wrote Tom in the dirt, and then an arrow indicating that he had turned right onto the road. If a vehicle should wipe out his efforts, so be it.

Leo freewheeled down the paved road. Allowing himself to catch his breath, he thought over Tom's story. How had they managed to find him? What about Tom's wife and children? Weren't they in danger? What had happened to Jon Yong? Were the others back home by now? Bastards – twenty years they had been friends.

A comforting 'duvet' of friendship and shared experiences, discarded like so much dirty washing. And for what? Was he at fault? Unrealistic, almost childlike, in his expectations. Surely it was a fundamental part of what made life worth living. You didn't throw that away because you'd moved on! You didn't change so dramatically that friends were no longer relevant. Did you?

'People get divorced, grow apart all the time,' he muttered to himself. 'You need to grow up.' He pedalled on. Women, careers, expectations, beliefs – all changed, all of them forces pulling you in new directions. Why was it so important that he clung to these past friendships? Was his future so uninviting, so threatening, so without promise? He pedalled steadily over a series of low mounds to which the road had been stuck, rather than engineered. He made enough speed down, to cruise to the next crest; like a boat on an ocean swell. There were a few fields and, occasionally, a small, square poor-looking building, a converted rotovator and the blast of a logging truck as it thundered by, its empty trailer like the rusty bones of a mammoth's rib cage, rattling over the potholed surface.

The dull scenery bored him. Leo thought of his business in the care of his young manager, an excitable university graduate with a degree in business and PR. What he lacked in commonsense, he made up for with his enthusiasm. He was going to the places Leo had already tried to get to. Leo did not have the heart to tell him, that, without cash, the business wasn't going anywhere. He sighed. The BMWs were expensive things to run.

His speed had bled away to seven mph. He stopped and took off his helmet, wiping his forehead with his glove. The padding inside his helmet was soaked. He needed a drink. He looked back over the humped road. No sign of Tom. Sod him!

Leo cycled on; when the sweat stopped running he knew he had to find water. After two more miles, he reached a major road junction, with a line of trees opposite and, beyond, a river. He hoped it was the same one. On a bent road sign, beneath the Chinese characters, he read Lian Shan. Alongside was a dusty petrol station. The noise of the traffic was intense. He dodged the steady stream and lent his bike against a sign advertising Pepsi. Inside, the small room acted as a spare parts shop and workshop, with a stripped motorcycle and a shelf with bottles of water, Pepsi and Sprite, and packets of Lay potato chips.

Leo grabbed four bottles of water and a bag of chips. A man came through a bead curtain, nodded without smiling.

Leo held out a five yaun note and it was snatched away,

Outside, he sat in the shade of the corrugated iron shelter that covered the two rusty pumps. A listing truck was being filled. The driver looked at him and spat in the dirt. Leo smiled, sitting on his helmet as he finished the first litre bottle. He refilled his Camelback and hungrily tore open the packet of chips. Hunger pains cramped his stomach. He was about to go back in and buy more when he heard the rattle of china from a shack next door.

Parked in front of it were farm vehicles, and a truckload of pigs. The dozen men inside fell silent. Leo smiled and looked around uncertainly. A man standing behind a counter irritably gestured Leo to a chair. The conversation started again and, although they gave him an occasional glance, the other patrons largely ignored him. The owner eventually came to stand beside him. The conversation again fell silent – until one old man at the far end said something and they all burst into laughter, nodding in Leo's direction. Leo pointed at various unintelligible things on the menu, making them laugh louder. The table became clogged with dishes of steamed pork spare-ribs and char siu bao – steamed buns with roast pork; Leo tried not to listen to the noise of the animals grunting and squealing in the truck outside as he hungrily devoured the delicious, tender pieces of meat with his chopsticks. He then tucked into har gao – shrimp dumplings – mini spring rolls and something he didn't recognise but he thought might be wu gok, a type of taro turnover. Lastly, he was served custard tarts and a mango pudding, while all the time finishing countless cups of green tea. When he finally sat back with the empty plates stacked in front of him, the diners who were left clapped, and Leo returned their toothless grins.

Tom had still not appeared when Leo left the gloom of the snack bar. Satiated, he stretched and yawned, grimacing suddenly from the thought of the final few miles to Lian Shan. He found a tree near the river and sat down on dried grass, with his back against the smooth trunk, opposite the road that he had come down. He pulled the map from his rucksack and found the junction. Tracing with his finger the dirt road they had taken, he found their route across the hills from the mine. He worked out it had been seven miles. He reassessed his mileage to Lian Shan as another four.

Leo belched softly, closed his eyes and dozed, periodically snapping awake with the passing of an un-silenced two-stroke or the blast of a horn. Finally, even these could not keep him awake.

His body began to grow; inflating, it floated from the ground. A small boy held a line attached to one ankle and walked away with him like a balloon. A slender figure caught his attention, waving up at him. Blond hair, a smile, Leo's eyes flew open and he slapped away the hand that was shaking his shoulder. 'What the hell?' He squinted up at Tom, standing with his hands on his knees, his chest heaving from exertion. His shirt was unbuttoned to his shorts, allowing his stomach to hang like an udder-less sac on a cow.

Leo looked at his useless watch and frowned. 'What time is it?'

'Never mind what time it is. Do you realise you've been on display to every passing Chinky. I bet Lian Shan is rife by now with gossip about some giant barbarian asleep under a tree.'

Leo sat upright. 'Don't be paranoid. I've only been asleep for five minutes. You weaving down the road dressed like that would have caused a lot more gossip.'

Tom flopped down and lay on his back beside Leo. His chest rose and fell like great furnace bellows. 'Ah, fuck it. What the hell am I worried about? I'm going to have a heart attack any minute.'

Leo twisted Tom's wrist and read the time from his watch. He had been asleep for half-an-hour. It was just after three.

'My arse is on fire,' Tom groaned. 'Look ...' He rolled over and hiked down his shorts. Leo looked quickly towards the road. Nothing in sight. He glanced back at Tom's arse, the colour of a ripe tomato, matted with black hair; at the base of his spine, Leo could see an angry blue-yellow bruise.

'You should have bought some cycle shorts like I suggested,' said Leo, looking away.

'You haven't got any cream you could put on it?' Tom asked, looking into the leaf litter.

'No I bloody haven't. And even if I did, I wouldn't go anywhere near your arse. Pull your pants up before we get arrested.'

Tom wiggled them up and rolled over, groaning with the effort.

'Mind you, getting arrested might not be a bad thing,' added Leo. 'At least we could explain what's been going on. Perhaps you should go and stand in the road and proposition a passing female peasant that you would like her to spread cream over your arse.'

'I can smell Chinese on you. Have you eaten?'

Leo nodded and pointed to the shack to their left. There were no vehicles parked in front of it now. 'The dim sum was delicious.'

'I could eat a horse.'

'Bollocks! You've got enough fat to carry you through a week. We've got to get to Lian Shan. It's only another four miles.'

Tom covered his eyes with his arm. 'I can't go another mile, Leo, I've had it.'

'Here ... have some Pepsi. I'll get you some chips.'

Tom lowered his arm. 'French fries? Here?'

Leo got up. 'No, chips, as in American crisps.'

'Great!' Tom said, unclipping the strap from under his chin and letting his helmet fall off the back of his head.

When Leo returned, Tom was snoring, head resting on his backpack. A strip of silver foil lay next to his hand. Leo bent and picked it up before kicking Tom's feet. He leapt awake, scowling. 'Every Chinky, from here to Lian Shan, would have heard you by now,' said Leo sarcastically. 'What are these?' He held up the strip of white pills.

Tom unscrewed the Pepsi, which hissed and bubbled froth over his shorts. He gulped greedily and then lowered the bottle, belching loudly. 'Anti-depressants,' he answered, holding out his hand.

Leo gave him back the strip. 'How long have you been taking them?'

'About a year.'

'Have things been ...'

'I don't want to talk about it. OK?'

Leo sat heavily next to his friend. 'How did that guy know where to find you, Tom?'

'Any number of ways,' Tom replied through a mouthful of Lay Chips. 'Someone at the dealership, your mate's travel agency, passport control ...'

'What about the family?'

Tom shook his head, his cheeks bulging. 'No way. They don't know I'm married.'

'Yeah, right – but they could find you in the middle of bloody China!'

Tom stopped chewing for a moment, then shook his head again. 'No, I was very careful. No-one at the dealership even knows where I live.'

'Personnel would have to know,' Leo said, frowning.

'They have my parents' address in Basingstoke.' Tom put down the chip packet he was emptying into his mouth. 'And no, they have no idea that I'm over here.'

'Well, I'm glad to see you're taking things so calmly. I would be worried sick about them.'

Tom finished the Pepsi. 'Yeah, I am. It's just that it's kind of difficult to make a phone call around here. Or haven't you noticed?' He belched again and looked off to the road.

Leo suddenly felt sorry for him – in the way a dog owner might feel if the animal had chewed his sofa and had then skulked around the garden, in the rain, for the afternoon. 'Come on,' he said, holding out his hand to help Tom up, 'let's get into town, find the others, call the police – and get the hell out of here.'

Tom put a hand on Leo's shoulder as they walked slowly to their bikes. 'I'm sorry your trip's been fucked up. It was a good idea. Maybe we're just too old for it.'

Leo raised his eyebrows. 'Age? You mean the trip hasn't been wrecked by a Defence Secretary's daughter and gangsters?' He put on his helmet and fingerless gloves.

'That hasn't helped,' said Tom, grinning as he got back on his bike – and quickly grimacing as the saddle disappeared between his inflamed buttocks.

'What are we going to say to the police? And where do you think Jon Yong is?' asked Leo, slowing down so that Tom could cycle beside him.

'I think Jon Yong has done a runner, or been scared off,' Tom grunted. 'I think we should tell the police as little as possible – if it's too complicated, it will just delay things. I think we should say our truck was stolen along with all our clothes and documentation, and we narrowly missed being kidnapped for ransom, and, if it's alright with you, we would like to get out of your country a.s.a.p.'

'How're you going to get these people off your back? Aren't they just going to come knocking on your office door?'

'You forget. I helped the police get these bastards. In England, I'll have protection.'

'You know,' Leo said, waiting for a truck to crash by with a blast from its horn, 'that guy who came after us back at the village, he didn't seem as though he was just after you. He looked pretty certain that he wanted all of us.'

Tom panted. 'Maybe their plan was – is – to use us as hostages for the release of their friends in the UK.'

'We're pretty stupid cycling into town on the main road, then,' Leo said after a while.

They could see the outskirts of Lian Shan under flat, white cloud. The road was now dual-carriageway and vehicles thundered by, buffeting them with reeking humid air, the blasts from their horns drilling through them. They passed grey, lifeless apartment blocks, built around concrete squares to one side, and dusty cement works and dilapidated factories on the other. It was a soulless, grim-looking place. They cycled further into town, their mood becoming bleaker at the total absence of grass or a tree. Even the river had lost its green hue and had become a sluggish, gunmetal grey, its surface littered with plastic bags, bottles and containers.

Leaving the tarmac, they continued on the safer adjacent pathway. Leo looked down the concrete bank of the river. There was a tidemark along the sand of rubbish and old tyres. Arriving in the middle of Lian Shan, they reached a drab concrete bridge, which led to the town centre. They rode around the edge of a large pool, excavated to form a harbour. It was crammed with barges, cranes cranking cargo to and from the dockside. Three-wheel trucks lined the quay. The whole of China was in a state of building, Leo realised.

Crossing the bridge, they found the hotel straight away. It was the only painted building. Standing on the corner of a grey street, its white walls were streaked with pollution. The green neon sign was missing the E and L. They walked into the empty foyer of the Lian Shan Hot .. Leo checked his itinerary to ensure it was the right place before handing it over to the beaming receptionist. He pointed to the name of the tour company, their names and then themselves – and finally, the name of the hotel and the date. Still smiling, she picked up the piece of paper and walked into the back office.

'D'you think this is wise?' asked Tom. 'This'll be the first place they look.'

'I'm prepared to take that risk for a shower and a decent bed,' replied Leo, but his wish faded when the girl reappeared. The smile had gone and she was shaking her head. 'Reservation cancelled,' she said. When Leo started to argue, they quickly found this was the only English she knew.

Eventually, Leo slammed the flat of his hand down on the counter. 'Hospital,' he demanded.

There was a map under the glass counter. He leant over, scanning the grid layout of Lian Shan, and found a red cross which he hoped indicated the hospital. He jabbed his finger at it. The girl, now clearly upset by the huge man's anger, pointed with a shaking hand out of the door, bending her hand to the right, and then to the left.

'I guess a taxi is out of the question?' he asked.

The girl looked at him blankly, the corner of her mouth quivering.

'Come on,' said Leo.

'Not the bloody bike again!' Tom groaned.

They reached the next intersection. Seeing a red cross between the buildings, further up and to his right, Leo decided they should take the next right, so they pedalled up to the junction. The streets were devoid of pedestrians; a few cyclists going in the opposite direction and a bus pulled across the intersection ahead.

Then – a screech of tyres.

They looked down the street, back to the hotel entrance. Mr. Wang's truck had come to a halt, and two men were hurrying inside.

Tom and Leo looked at each other, then raced down the street, taking the next left and skidding to a halt in front of the hospital. An ambulance was pulling out from under a sign that read Lian Shan People's Hospital, beneath a red banner of Chinese characters. They crammed their bikes in amongst the others parked in racks to one side of the main doors.

Inside, there were signs leading to various doors and several people were standing in front of dispensing windows, one for traditional herbal medicine, the other for western. A man swept the floor to their left as they hurried to the reception desk.

'Speak English?' Leo asked, looking over his shoulder.

The nurse nodded her head.

Leo asked her for Hilary's ward.

The nurse frowned.

'What's her last name?' Leo said to Tom who was drumming his fingers on the counter top.

'Foster ... no McKissen.' Tom looked up at the ceiling. 'No, hang on, I think Hilary was Foster and Kate was McKissen.'

Leo was momentarily nonplussed. He had forgotten Kate's surname. He slapped the counter. 'Hilary Foster. Where? Now!'

'Can I help you, sir?'

They spun round. A young man faced them. He was wearing a white coat and his hands were stuffed into its pockets. His skin was scarred by polio and he had large round eyes.

'Yes,' they chorused. 'We have come to see Hilary Foster,' Leo explained.

'The Australian woman? With broken leg?'

Leo kept looking at the door. 'Yes,' he said, wondering how many western women they had at the hospital.

'She left this morning with her friends.'

Leo saw the truck swing into the entrance road. 'Yes, we know,' he said suddenly. Tom looked at him in surprise. 'She left some stuff behind and we've come to collect it. Which room was she in?'

Tom saw the truck skid to a halt.

'Third floor, room F,' the young doctor replied. He pointed across the entrance hall. An ambulance, its siren blaring, pulled into the parking area. The man that had made them run from the village was arguing with two orderlies wheeling a stretcher. With obvious reluctance, he went to the back of the truck to guide his partner in reversing it away. Tom and Leo crashed through the doors, passing a stairway and an elevator, to a T- junction. They turned separate ways.

'This way,' Tom said.

'Why? That's to the front,' Leo cried, but Tom was already halfway down the corridor. Leo ran after him. It dead-ended at a bare wall. Tom tried the door to the left. It was locked. To his right, the door opened into a small office with a desk at one end, metal filing shelves crammed with box files, videos and stacks of paper, and a work bench down one side with a microscope and a computer monitor showing a graph and coloured lines.

Tom pulled back the blinds that covered the window. The office looked out on a narrow path and a concrete wall. He tried the catch on the window. His fingers slid off the metal.

'Locked,' he said, looking about desperately. They went over to the desk and lifted pieces of paper and corners of files to see if there were any keys. The drawers in the desk were locked. Tom frantically hunted along the work bench.

'Here!' Leo had found a bundle in a paper cup on the corner of one of the shelves. He tried several before one slotted home. The window slid backwards with a screech. Hurriedly, Leo pulled the desk chair over to the window.

'Quick.' He indicated for Tom to go first. Tom pulled himself onto the chair and put his leg through the window. The gap was only wide enough to side-step through. He groaned with pain as he pivoted on the window's metal frame, then dropped to the path – and immediately rubbed his crotch.

Leo followed; the padding in his shorts helped. Before he closed the window, he leant in and scooted the chair back towards the desk. They ran down the path, stopping at the corner.

Tom peered around. 'It's still there.'

'We've got to get to the police,' Leo whispered.

Tom nodded. 'There's no-one in the cab.'

They ran from the corner, keeping beneath the windows, to reach the entrance. The ambulance was still backed up to the double doors. The truck was parked in front of the racked bicycles. Retrieving theirs, they ran them to the other side of the truck. Leo grabbed Tom's arm. 'What if they've already taken the others?'

'We'll talk to the police about it. Come on.'

'No, wait a second. It could be days before they track them down and by then it could be too late.'

'Too late? You're forgetting it was me they're after,' Tom hissed.

'I don't know. Let's get in the back of Wang's truck. See where they go.'

'You're out of your fucking mind!'

'No, come on. We'll put the bikes in the back.'

'No!' said Tom emphatically, getting on his bike.

'You're on your own then. I'm not leaving until I know for sure they don't have the others.'

'You mean that bitch, Kate!'

Leo's eyes narrowed. He turned away and went to the back of the truck. The canvas cover was buttoned halfway. He reached up and lowered the tail gate. The rest of the group's bikes lay there, as well as boxes of cycle spares, tyres, inner tubes, a tool box and a bundled groundsheet near the cab, on which Mr. Wang had set their picnics. Leo threw his bike on top of the others and pulled himself inside. He reached for the tailgate – then jumped in surprise as Tom appeared beside him.

'You're a ...' Noise from the entrance doors halted Tom in mid-sentence. 'Shit!' he said, 'they're coming back.' He heaved his bike into the truck and Leo pulled him in. They closed the tailgate. It clicked shut as they heard the two men approach. The cab doors opened and the chassis swayed as they got in. Leo buttoned down the canvas opening and groped his way to the groundsheet. They could hear angry voices through the thin metal. Someone got out. Leo peered through an eyehole in the canvas. It was the man that had confronted them at the village. He walked over to where their bikes had been. The modern mountain bikes would have stood out in the ranks of steel-framed Chinese makes. The gesticulated to the driver and the diesel rattled into life.

'He's coming round the back,' Leo hissed. They dived under the groundsheet, from where they could hear the tailgate being lowered – and then banged shut. The chassis lurched as the heavy man got back into the cab, then the diesel bellowed as they roared away from the hospital, the tyres squealing as they rounded street corners. Occasionally, Leo and Tom heard a horn or the engine of another vehicle; once, the truck stopped and they could hear voices passing – and all the time the two in the cab were shouting at each other. Tom and Leo banged heads as the truck took yet another sharp turn.

'They must be looking for us,' Leo whispered.

Tom pushed him away angrily. 'This has to be the most stupid, fucking, idiotic, crazy, stupid idea of all time.'

Leo pulled himself out from under the sweating groundsheet and held on to the side of the careening vehicle. He was sure Tom was right, but then, he was equally convinced that he was doing the right thing.

Chapter 24

White cloud dulled the light and muddied the greens and browns of the forest.

Daniel's gaze slowly traversed the cliff face to the jumbled rocks below. The dust had settled. There was no sign of the cage or, thankfully, Tina. He would have given anything to see that she had survived, and crawled away to the forest edge. A slight breeze rustled the trees that clung to the crevices. The other cages started to move with a creak of rope. Emma cried out and Daniel sat up, resting his back against the railings of the pagoda. He turned his head slightly to look at her. Her arms were folded tightly across her chest and her eyes were closed, but he could see tears, glistening on her long eyelashes. Her hair was greasy and hung partially over her face. She was rocking, her lower lip open, saliva on her chin, repeating something over and over which he could not understand. Daniel twisted his head further. Vib sat – just as Daniel had last seen him, his chin on his chest, his arms hanging by his sides, legs crossed.

'Vib,' Daniel wheezed, pulling himself up to his knees. There was no movement. 'Vib, look at me ... Emma ...' She stopped rocking, opened her eyes and stared at him, shivering. 'Emma, can you reach Vib?' She looked at Daniel numbly, then slowly turned her head. Her cage creaked. She looked down fearfully and immediately closed her eyes again, resuming her rocking and mumbling.

'Vib, look at me!' Daniel said, getting to his feet. His voice echoed off the cliff behind them. Vib's head lifted, his eyes full of tears. 'It's going to be OK ...'

Vib's shoulders began to shake, his face contorted. 'Do something Dan, I don't want to die.' Tears wet his face.

Daniel looked down the treetop walkway. 'I can't see the one with the Man. U. scarf.' He searched for their guard. 'I don't know what they want,' he said, turning back, his shoulders raised.

'Give them anything ...' Vib cried. 'Just get us out of here.'

'I would do anything Vib, but I don't know what he wants. I don't know what he's talking about. What information?'

'Please ...' Vib was pressing his face through the bars of his cage. He looked like a five-year-old, unable to get his own way.

'Vib. You don't seriously think I know anything?'

'I don't give a fuck,' Vib screamed. 'The freak got the information from somewhere. Tell him! Tell him anything.'

Emma was rocking faster, her cage beginning to sway dangerously.

'Calm down, both of you.' Daniel's voice was hoarse. 'We have to work something out.'

He pulled at his bonds with despair. It was old fibrous rope with strands coming away in places. It bound his hands tightly, as if they were forced into one glove. The end had been passed back between his hands and tied again at his wrists before being looped several times around one of the posts with a series of clove hitches – like a hangman's knot for the hands – and every time he strained, it tightened. Daniel bent down and, with his teeth, worked the end tied to the post. One of the coils moved slightly. He bent again and chewed until he thought his teeth might break. As he worked, another desperate thought struck him.

'Emma – have you seen Madison?'

She continued to rock herself, backwards and forwards. Violently, she shook her head. That, Daniel realised, meant that none of them had seen Madison since the kidnapping. Why had they taken her separately? The alarm must have been raised by now? The fact they had not been on their flight meant people meeting them back in the U.K. and U.S. would now be worried. Mr. Wang must have raised the alarm. What about Jon Yong and the tour company? Daniel prayed as he worked the strands of rope. He had to believe the police were searching for them. They needed time. The information they wanted was on a disk. He had worked that out. He had to think of a hiding place that would take them a long time to find. He tried to concentrate, ignoring Vib.

Suddenly, Daniel straightened, spitting out a strand of rope. What about the truck? They didn't have it. This madman with the beads would have to find it and then search it. They couldn't do that without alerting Jon Yong and the others. Why hadn't he thought of that earlier? It might have saved Tina.

'Vib,' he said, 'listen.'

Vib fell silent as Daniel explained.

'So this is your fault,' he cried.

'No. You haven't listened. I'm going to play along, to give us time.'

Vib was silent. He rubbed his face with the front of his stained t-shirt. 'How do you know they haven't already searched the truck? The others could be dead.'

Daniel looked across the distance between them. Vib's eyes were red and swollen; the light was fading. 'Listen mate, we'll make it. OK?' His gruff voice disguised his fear.

'Why us?'

Daniel concentrated on pulling the first of the hitches free. He felt a buzz of triumph. The cloud dispersed with nightfall. The moon rose during the next hour. It washed the cliff face a ghostly grey. Distances had become obscured and the moonlight failed to penetrate the valley – Daniel felt as if they were orbiting a foreboding planet. A slight breeze cooled the sweat on his face. His jaw ached and he could taste blood where his gums had been rubbed by the rope. He worked his aching muscles. He hadn't heard from Vib for a while. 'You know, at first I thought this had to do with Madison. A kidnapping.'

The cages were silent.

'But this nutcase thinks we've stolen some ... information ... we're just tourists, for Christ sake! We must all look the same to them.'

The rope connected to Vib's cage creaked as he shifted his weight. Daniel could see Emma lying on the floor of hers, curled tightly in a foetal ball.

'Bollocks!' Vib mumbled. 'He said you worked for MI6.'

'Vib, don't be a prat. How long have you known me? I own restaurants!'

'I don't care,' Vib retorted, 'I'm shit scared.'

Daniel could hear his teeth chattering. 'Me too.'

'I'm going to kill Leo for this.'

'I don't think this was on the itinerary!' Daniel said, trying to inject some light relief as he searched for torchlight indicating the presence of a guard.

'I bet he ... he ... he set this up to get even ... you know ... because his ... his little trip didn't go quite the way he ... he wanted.'

'Come on, Vib ...'

'No, it's true. You know what he's like. He's jealous of our success. We're too soft to tell him to get ... to get a life. Instead, we ... we meekly come along on his ... this stupid fucking trip,' said Vib. 'And now look at us!' he shouted.

A torch beam flicked out from the A-frames along the wall. It played over the cages and then rested on Daniel face.

'The bastard set this up just because I wouldn't play the game,' Vib hissed. 'This is one of his ... events ... Mr. enter-bloody-tainment, always trying to make us do stuff, sulking if we say we're busy, Mr. bloody Leo McLaren.'

The beam flicked off. Daniel went back to worrying the rope with his teeth. He listened to Vib rant about Leo and his conspiracy theory. Vib was sounding like a lunatic, Daniel thought.

'Vib, shut up. You're not helping anyone. Try and talk to Emma. Give her some comfort.' Daniel spat blood.

'Piss off Mr. MI bloody six agent. You comfort her. You put her in there.'

'She needs you. Come on, you two were getting close.'

'Bollocks! I was only doing it to get up Leo fucking McLaren's nose.' Vib turned to face Emma. 'Hey, wake up, you stuck-up little tart,' He lunged for her cage. It crashed with his and Emma screamed. The desperate sound pierced the night and immediately, torchlight shone out from further down the wall. It started to move back to the walkway. 'Come on Uncle Daniel wants me to comfort you!'

Daniel could feel the whole frame of the pagoda groaning with the wildly swinging cages.

'Vib, you'll kill us all,' Daniel yelled, but Emma's screams drowned his words.

. 'Let's fly away together, little birdy,' said Vib, breaking into a high pitched, hysterical laugh. Suddenly, he let go of Emma's cage. He clung to the bars of his own, his face squeezed between them, grotesque in the moon wash, like a cathedral gargoyle, its mouth open, ready to spout rainwater. 'Help me mate, please?'

Daniel looked down the walkway. The torch was no longer approaching, but its beam stayed on them until, eventually, the guard turned away.

'I'm trying man. If I can free this rope I'll do something with the guard and then winch you guys to safety.' He bent over and started worrying the next hitch in the rope.

Vib was quiet for a long time. 'You know, all my life I've been like this,' he said, breaking his silence.

Daniel looked up, startled by the sudden normality.

'I've never been allowed to do what I wanted. Always caged into the right school; the right qualification, the right girlfriends – now a wife and that fucking company. I hate it. Sodding curries. Do you know the hell I've been through, neither white nor Indian, a fucking half-caste?'

'It's never stopped you getting the women.'

'Yeah right. Then they find out what a fake I am. They hate me. I hate me. Perhaps this would be the best way to go.'

'Don't talk bullshit,' said Daniel startled by a sudden crack and splintering of wood: the rope above Vib's cage had started to creak violently again.

'Vib, what are you doing?' Daniel peered through the night but Vib's outline was indistinct. Renewed fear flooded through him. 'Vib! It's going to be alright.'

'I don't want this shit anymore.'

More splintering of wood. Daniel thought he saw something fall away from Vib's cage.

'Vib,' he shouted. He detected some movement – and let out his breath when he saw Vib's bulk still inside the cage. 'Remember my stag, Vib, remember? After the pub you took me to Heathrow and we all ended up in Paris, completely off our faces ...'

'Prague.'

'What?'

'It was Prague.'

'Prague? Oh yeah! We drank Absinth and went to that club where you ate sushi off that Russian woman's body ...'

'Where are your friends when you need them most?' Vib moaned.

Daniel's pulse quickened as he felt the final hitch begin to work loose. Something brushed his head. No sound – it was like walking through a strand of spider's silk. He pushed at the knot, searching the night sky, darker now that the moon had been partly hidden by a distant mountain. He tried to differentiate between the subtle shades of black and then, suddenly saw fluttering shapes. He heard a click, answered by another further away. The bats arrived in quantity, flickering about the cages, clicking and squeaking as their echolocation systems tracked down the insects pushed up on the warm thermals from the forest. Emma began to moan, waving limply about her head.

The rope worked free. Daniel felt a boost of energy. He looked to the wall – no torchlight. Free of the post, he could release the tension around his hands. He pulled the rope through with his teeth and the rough, fibrous strands fell away. Flexing his fingers, he worked the circulation of blood back into them, then pushed a hand through his hair. It was matted. He scratched his arms, lumpy from mosquito bites.

'I'm free,' he whispered. They did not reply. The bats had left as quickly as they had arrived. 'I'm going to throw you a rope, Emma; pass it through one of the bars and back to me.'

The rope hit her. 'Come on, Emma ...' He threw it again, 'Emma, you have to help me.' Daniel controlled himself, managing not to shout. Trance-like, she finally passed the rope back through a wooden bar. He pulled on it. Startled, she cried out as it swung towards the pagoda. Daniel set up a pendulum motion, while pleading with her to remain quiet. The rope creaked and, when he judged that it was at its widest arc, he lunged for the side, his fingers snatching a hold on the rough circular section of bamboo that formed the base. He clung on, his body pressed against the railing as Emma clung to the bars. Daniel tied the rope off, anchoring the cage like a listing ship to a quay. Glad that he could not see the fall below, he levered himself up onto the railing so that his feet were level with the base of the cage. When his hand touched Emma's, her fingers clutched to his like a baby's instinctive grasp.

He felt for the join between the bamboo bars and the base. They were tied with twine. He pulled his hand from hers and with his weight, leant backwards. The bar bowed and then cracked. Daniel grabbed at the next one, did the same again and worried the split ends free. It was wide enough for Emma to squeeze through. She was shaking uncontrollably.

'It's alright, I've got you,' said Daniel, feeling along her arm until he had a good hold. Cautiously, she pulled herself up to him and allowed him to guide her down onto the floor of the pagoda. She stood meekly while Daniel released the anchor and her empty cage swung out into the night. Suddenly, he saw the halo from the torch beam the other side of the wall. He froze, gently pushing Emma down to the floor. She whimpered. He cringed with the sound of the creaking rope as her cage swung from side to side. The torchlight swept briefly over the A-frames, hesitated and then went away across the courtyard.

'Vib ... you're going to have to get into Emma's cage,' Daniel called, ' ... then I'll swing you over here so you can get out. OK?'

The answer came in a split of bamboo, then another, as Vib launched himself into frantic activity. He had already broken one of the bars; just two more would get him through. Daniel glanced repeatedly towards the wall on top of the cliff. The splitting bamboo sounded like pistol shots. He was surprised how quickly Vib transferred himself to Emma's cage, and thankful again that the drop below was hidden. Daniel swung the cage and was about to fasten it as before when Vib leapt through the opening and tumbled onto the pagoda floor, on top of Emma.

Daniel let the cage go and immediately was gripped in a fierce hug. He could feel the wetness of Vib's cheeks against his.

'Come on,' Daniel said, prising his arms away.

Suddenly, he was blinded by light from the end of the walkway. It caught them like lovers on a stage and began slowly to advance. Vib started to run towards it.

Daniel, in the process of bending for the rope that held the cages, called out for him to stop. Daniel's fingers were shaking. He heard a warning in Chinese as he pulled through the knot of the first cage. The rope slipped through his hands and rattled in the pulley at the end of the supporting pole. Vib had stopped running but was now holding his hands up against the powerful glare of the torch, pleading with the bearer. Daniel freed the last knot. Someone barged past him and tripped over the prone figure of Emma, failing to grab the snaking, shadowy end of the rope. It disappeared into the night. There was a rattle from the pulley and then a mournful rush of air passing through the bars of the empty cages as they plunged down into the blackness.

The explosion when they hit the ground sounded like a tree falling. Daniel's chest heaved with relief even though he was now pinned against a post – the tip of a sword pressed to his throat.

Chapter 25

Leo's hearing buzzed in the silence after the strain of the diesel and crash of suspension. He stretched his aching legs, moving his thigh and feeling the tenderness from the bruising. It was too dark to see Tom wedged against the far side of the truck.

They had been travelling for 30 minutes along a track, with only the occasional motorcycle passing them. Several times, they had clambered over the bikes, cursing as their shins and arms encountered the pedals and handlebars, peering cautiously through the flap in the canvas hood. In the waning light, they had watched the usual jigsaw puzzle of rice fields pass by. A thin trail of dust had hung above the road, turning golden where the setting sun penetrated through trees and scrub. Tom had not stopped cursing Leo.

Now, Leo strained to hear as the two men climbed out of the cab. Their words were muffled and then their footsteps crunched over gravel and faded.

'How's the great escape plan going?' Tom hissed.

Ignoring him, Leo slowly worked his way over the jumble of bikes and spare parts to the tailgate. He unclipped the canvas and peered out. There were a few lights visible in several rooms shining through cracks in wooden shutters. A dog started to bark. There was a smell of chilli in the air, and he guessed, that nearby they had been laying the vegetable out to dry in the sun, like he had seen in many villages, the orange chillies lying like a mosaic along the road or on the tops of walls. A voice yelled and the dog fell silent. The small dark shape of a rat ran along the bottom of the wall under a lantern, scuttling around the corner of the building.

'I'm going to take a look,' Leo whispered. 'You coming?'

'Fuck you, Leo! Fuck you till the fucking shit stops coming out of you ... you bastard ...' Tom clambered over the obstacles.

'Shhh ...' said Leo, stepping over the tailgate and gently lowering himself to the ground. He cautiously peered down the side of the truck. They were in a courtyard. Ahead of them stood a towering banyan tree, its trunk wider than the truck, its branches starting some twenty feet above the ground and spreading out into the night sky. Beyond, a modern-looking two-storey building was fitted with large square windows, one filled with the flickering blue light from a television. Leo crept up to the trunk of the banyan and knelt behind the slabs of paving leant against it.

Tom noisily scrambled up beside him. 'Why don't I stand up and just yell that we're here?' said Leo sarcastically.

Tom stabbed his middle finger in the air.

'There're a lot of buildings to search. Let's split up and meet back here in, say ... ten minutes,' Leo suggested.

'And from which direction will you send the SAS, Colonel fucking McLaren?'

Leo glared at him; he could see Tom's anger in the electric light. 'Stay in the truck if you want,' he scowled as he moved off.

Leo's heart was pounding; his trainers sounded as loud as fireworks as they crunched the gravel. He ran, crouched double, to the building and flattened against the wall. Two motorcycles were parked in front; to the side, a rotovator truck, its trailer piled with white sacks. He looked for Tom but there was no sign. Leo felt conspicuous and moved along the side to the corner. His mouth was dry. The dog started barking again. Leo felt vaguely foolish, like a boy playing at war, waiting for his friend to run out with arms extended, making the sound of a machine gun and yelling 'you're dead, you're dead.'

Slipping into a passageway that ran between the building and a dilapidated storage shed, he smelt sewage, garbage and then cooking: fried onions. He became aware of his heightened senses. A voice yelled from the room with the television. The dog stopped barking. Leo ran down the alley. He fell over an exposed pipe, rolling into a ditch of stinking water. Scrambling to the side, gagging from the smell, he felt his feet sinking into the mess. It was very dark on that side of the building. Light spilled out from the alley and bled into the surrounding fields. Leo crawled to the back of the building, feeling with his fingers along the flaky masonry until they found a gap in the wall. He strained his eyes – a door latch. Taking a deep breath, he pressed down on it. The latch rose with a slight squeak. He rested his palm against the door – it swung inwards with a groan.

Leo froze.

Light appeared through cracks in another door. He felt his way forward, rubbing against the boxes in what was obviously a storage room. Putting his eye to one the cracks in the door. he saw a low-beamed room, a single light hanging from the central beam, and shelves down the side stacked with old bottles and jars. Leo caught his breath. Tied to each of the metal uprights were Kate, Hilary and Zachary.

His fingers scrabbled for a latch but there was none. He leant against the wood. It groaned but didn't budge. He could see Kate looking in his direction.

'Kate ... Kate, it's me ... Leo,' he said as loudly as he dared.

Kate's eyes widened with surprise. 'Leo?' she whispered, looking off to her right towards another door at the far end of the shelved room.

'Yes ... yes, it's me. I can't open this door.'

Kate shook her head. 'There's a bar across it.'

Hillary looked deathly white, her plastered leg straight out in front. Zachary was leaning forward on his wrists, seemingly asleep, but then he looked up and his arms began working frantically as he tried to release the knot of rope that bound him to the metal upright.

'What the hell's going on?' Leo asked softly.

'It's Jon Yong ... shhh ... someone's coming.'

The door at the far end opened suddenly and the man who had chased them over the bridge entered, followed by Jon Yong, carrying a tray. He set it down on the floor and said something to his companion, who bent over their wrists, freeing one for each of them.

'You must eat. Only noodles and water. Good enough for Chinese, good enough for you,' said Jon Yong.

Leo stared in disbelief at their former tour guide. He still wore the same clothes and black-rimmed glasses, but his expression was bleak, stern, with none of the patient, good-humoured blandness they had got used to.

For a moment, his and Leo's eyes locked. Leo didn't think Jon Yong had seen him, but it was enough to make him step back in shock. His elbow caught the edge of a box and the unstable tower crashed around him. There was a shout from the other room, and thumping at the door to release the bar.

Leo ran, his feet sliding inside the trainers. He moved as quickly as he dared down the dark verge, close to the stinking ditch. He heard shouts and more tumbling boxes as Jon Yong made it out through the storage room. Leo hunkered down, trying to see if they were following. A figure moved across the light spilling from the alleyway. Leo crabbed across to a barn, looking fearfully over his shoulder.

A powerful engine suddenly revved as a vehicle arrived in the courtyard the other side of the building; there was a screech of brakes and the sound of flying gravel.

Another shout – the pursuing man doubled back up the alley.

Leo breathed a sigh of relief. Then, a shadow detached from the wall and a weight slammed into him. He lost his footing, hitting the stinking water again with a startled cry. Flailing and gagging, he got to his knees, his senses overpowered by the stench. He searched the blackness. Nothing. He hauled himself up the side. As he reached the top, a figure rose from where it had been lying. Leo held up his hands to protect himself.

'Leo, is that you?'

Relief again flooded over him. 'Get me out,' he said, searching blindly for a supportive arm in the dark.

'Christ, you stink!' said Tom.

'Thanks to you!' Leo shook filthy water from his ears.

'What's going on?' Tom whispered.

A shouted conversation had started around the corner of the building.

'I'll tell you later.' Leo moved off. He slipped from the corner of the barn and ran behind a cement mixer. The light from the courtyard cast long shadows. He crawled under the mixer. Tom wriggled in beside him.

A black Mercedes had stopped beside the tree; the three-pointed star on the radiator reflected the light from the front door of the house.

The doors to the Mercedes were open.

Jon Yong stood in the light with two men Leo and Tom recognised as their pursuer back at the village and the driver of the truck, The voices were harsh, urgent. Standing in front of the Mercedes were two other men; one of them turned and appeared to be listening to someone still sitting in the back of the vehicle. He bowed and then, immediately, both he and his companion advanced towards Jon Yong and his men. The explosion of movement made Leo gasp. One moment they were facing each other; the next, two of them were on the ground. One, Leo and Tom's former pursuer, was on his back, his arm stretched up, held taught, his assailant's foot on his neck. He kicked out his legs, but Leo could hear him choking – and the legs stopped moving. Meanwhile, the truck driver, had been propelled backwards as if attached to a taught elastic band, toppling one of the motorcycles as he fell. He lay still, his legs splayed, his arms flung wide, his mouth open.

Leo felt sweat slide down his face; his fists clenched the sand, and he bit down on his tongue. Jon Yong had collapsed to his knees with his arms at his side. He attempted no resistance. The two killers moved to stand either side of him. The back door of the Mercedes slowly opened. Leo pushed himself into the ground, holding his breath, feeling Tom do the same beside him. 'That's the same car we saw on the mountain,' Tom breathed.

Leo did not answer, convinced the man stepping from the Mercedes was staring directly at him. But the car's passenger finally glided towards Jon Yong, each step precise.

Jon Yong screamed when he reached him. The sound galvanized Leo. 'Move,' he urged Tom as he wormed away.

'That was Jon Jon back there,' said Tom.

'Ahuh ... he was holding Kate, Hilary and Zachary prisoner ...'

'Shit!' Tom wheezed.

'Yeah, I don't know what's going on but I don't think the guy in the Merc's the police,' said Leo, risking a look around the corner of bricks they had hidden behind.

Jon Yong was lying on his back, moaning. The attackers had gone into the house.

'So what's your plan now?' asked Tom.

'Somehow, we have to help them.'

You're kidding!' Tom whispered furiously. 'Did you just see what the bastards just did?'

'Of course I bloody did. You want to leave them here?'

'Yes, what are they to us?'

'How are we going to get out of here?' said Leo, ignoring him.

'Your problem, Colonel McLaren! I'm going to steal a motorbike.'

'You won't outrun that car.'

'I'll leave when they've gone...'

'...we've got to stall them, Tom. Get help ... somehow.'

'You're on your own, mate.'

Leo's anger rose. 'Wait here at least,' he said as he felt his way around the pile of rubble so he could see the back of the truck. The leaves danced a pattern on the canvas side. There was no cover between Leo and the truck. He tensed himself, sprang forward and felt a hand grab the back of his t-shirt. As he fell back, his feet shot out from under him. Hurriedly, he pulled them to safety behind the rubble.

'What!' he hissed as Tom released his t-shirt.

'What?' Tom mimicked. 'What the fuck do you think you're doing?'

'I'm going to get back to the truck.'

'Why?'

'Because ...'

Tom drew closer, He glared at Leo.

'Because I don't know what else to do,' Leo finished.

The sudden sound of voices forced them to sink down against the wall. Three desperate-looking figures passed in front of the Mercedes – Kate and Zachary; supporting Hilary between them.

'Kate! They're taking them. Come on,' said Leo.

They heard the car start and then the smooth increase of power as the automatic transmission guided the limousine around the tree. They pressed themselves into the ground as the car swept by.

Leo jumped up. 'Come on, we've got to follow them.' He was about to run out when his sixth sense stalled him. One of the killers had been left behind.

The squat man picked up Jon Yong with one arm and carried him to the back of the truck. He threw him in like a sack of wheat, then shambled back to where the other two men lay, dragging them by their arms through the open doorway. Leo raced out from behind the building, his heart pumping, his legs rubbery. Reaching the corner of the truck, he swung himself up, clambered inside and sprawled on top of Jon Yong. He held his breath, his heart thudding against his ribs. There was no shout, nor the shuffle of quick steps. He let out his breath and rolled off a groaning Jon Yong. Leo moved to the groundsheet. The minutes ticked by until he felt sufficiently confident that the man had left by different means. Leo cautiously pulled himself out from under the groundsheet.

An explosion knocked him flat again. Immediately, he could hear the crackle of fire and see the dancing shape of flames through the green canvas. The truck tilted on its suspension as the bulky man climbed into the cab, slamming the door. The diesel bellowed into life. As they swerved around the tree, Leo scrambled to the back. He pushed open the flap. The building was ablaze. Already, the flames were through the roof, the wooden frame crumbling as he watched. The nearest branches of the great banyan tree were also alight. Sparks and thick grey smoke rose up before the breeze pushed the column out towards the fields. The truck was moving quickly, bouncing over the potholes.

Suddenly, a figure raced into view. Tom!

Leo leant out over the tailgate, surprised at Tom's speed. The truck changed gear. He dropped the tailgate and lay flat. The extra arm's length was all he needed. His hand clasped around Tom's wrist and he pulled him the last few feet. Tom scrambled aboard. 'Good of you to join us,' said Leo.

'Leo...'he gasped for air, 'I'm...going to kill you for this. That's if the guy driving doesn't get to you first.'

'Give it a rest, Tom. What happened back there?'

Tom sat up his chest heaving and looked briefly at the hooded figure lying beside them. 'Psycho up front took the bodies inside and then emptied the tanks from the motorbikes into the hallway ... then threw a match in.' The flames still lit the interior of the truck. Tom was a mess, a cut down the side of his nose and black rings under his eyes where the dirt and sweat had mixed and dried. His shirt was held together with one button, the orange and blue Hawaiian design smeared with filth. He raised an eyebrow, creating a white ring in the dirt. 'What are you looking at? You haven't seen yourself. At least I don't smell like a cesspit. I think you've got a turd hanging from your chin!'

Leo wiped his face, grimacing.

'Just stay downwind,' Tom said, leaning back and looking at the body. He rested his fingers against his neck feeling for a pulse. 'He's still alive.' He lifted the hood. 'Hello Jon Jon.'

Blood oozed from one of Jon Yong's nostrils; in the fading firelight, Tom could see that their former guide's hands were grotesquely swollen. Leo retrieved a water bottle from one of the bikes. He pulled out the end and squeezed drops of water onto Jon Yong's face.

'Give that to me ...' said Tom, snatching the bottle. He popped the lid and let the contents splash onto the face. '... we've got no time for niceties.'

Jon Yong started to groan, cough and then splutter as the water went down his nose.

'That's enough, Tom,' said Leo, restraining him. He pulled a rear light off the nearest bike and switched it on, confident that it would not shine through the canvas. Jon Yong tried to sit up but cried in pain as he moved his hands.

'Jon Yong, it's Tom and Leo.'

The mention of their names did not seem to give him any relief.

'What did they do to you?' Leo asked.

Jon Yong's face was twisted in pain. He had lost his glasses and the front of his t-shirt was torn. His shoes were missing and when Leo passed the light over his feet he could see they were cut and bruised.

'What's going on?' demanded Tom.

Leo stared at the Jon Yong. 'You kidnapped Kate and the others, didn't you?'

Jon Yong finally opened his eyes. They were full of pain.

'Jon Yong?' Leo said, uncertainly.

'They were not badly treated,' Jon Yong gasped. 'You will not understand ...'

'You're right, I don't,' Leo replied.

'You're a shit, Jon Jon ...'

'Shut up, Tom!' said Leo. 'What's going on, Jon Yong?' he resisted the urge to shake the skinny shoulders.

'Very ... bad people,' Jon Yong grimaced. His eyes closed.

'Who are they?' Leo asked.

Jon Yong shook his head. When he opened his eyes, tears squeezed from them. 'They killed ... friends.'

Leo and Tom exchanged glances. Tom hunched forward. 'The three of you were friends?'

This time Jon Yong nodded. 'We ... we look after your friends ... not hurt ... we needed you ... our families ... desperate ...' Jon Yong winced. 'You do not understand ... what is happening in China.' He licked his lips and Leo dribbled water into his mouth. 'You Westerners ... make me angry ... expensive clothes, big ... big wallets. You think cycling will give you good experience of this ... this third world nation ... you see happy ... happy ...' Jon Yong closed his eyes. '... happy smiling faces, water buffalo, children waving, poor villages ...''

'Jon Yong, cut the crap,' Tom interrupted between gritted teeth, 'or I'm going to break all the other bones in your stupid little body.'

'Corruption,' Jon Yong whispered, biting his lip. 'Our government ... only interested ...' The truck crashed through a pothole and Jon Yong cried out in agony. '... China government ... only interested in being super power ... economic development must happen re ... regardless of cost ... cities and factories built on land ...' Jon Yong glared at them in the red light. '... land taken from the peasant farmers with no compensation. My ... our families have no legal representation, no union. They ...' His gaze swivelled fearfully towards the cab. '... arrive with police and government officials ... tear our homes down and leave us on road with just what we carry ... it is happening all over country ...'

'You kidnapped Kate, Zac, Hillary! Why?' Leo whispered fiercely.

'We need money ... for human rights lawyers ... international publicity. We would never have harmed you.' Jon Yong looked down at his hands, tears in his eyes.

Tom threw the empty water bottle at him. 'You bastard! All this was because of your pathetic hovel of a home being bulldozed.'

'I had no choice ... my family losing everything.'

Leo leant over and restrained Tom. 'These people who came in the Mercedes, did they have anything to do with your parents' village?'

Jon Yong shook his head. 'No. Gangsters from Shanghai. Looking for stolen government information.'

Leo leant forward, shining the light closer to Jon Yong's face. 'What information? Why did they take Kate and the others?'

'They can do what they want ... these are people who come to our villages. They murder and destroy the ... the evidence. They could not leave westerners. Too many questions.'

A feeling of dread ran through Leo. He looked at Tom but he seemed to have become disinterested. 'So much for your theory that we were running from Chinese car thieves,' said Leo.

'It was only a guess,' replied Tom through a scowl. 'How was I to know the real reason was our tour guide wanted to raise money to help his family stay put?' He laughed sarcastically and waved at Jon Yong. 'The little bastard.'

'Why did they not kill you,' Leo asked, shaking Jon Yong awake.

'They...they have not finished with me,' Jon Yong replied. 'They will take my body back to my village ... for an example.'

Tom's sneer faded.

Leo looked again at Jon Yong. 'What's going to happen to Kate and the others?'

'They will ... they will disappear ...' Jon Yong groaned as the truck sped around a corner. '.. disappear ... but unlike Chinese, they will be missed ... missed and searched for ... your governments will care ... will investigate ... but their bodies ...'

Leo rested his head in his hands. 'I'm open to suggestions, Tom.'

'I have only one fucking suggestion,' Tom moved to the back of the truck. 'When we slow for a junction, we get out with our bikes and we ride like shit to the nearest town. We tell the police or the army, I don't give a monkey's who, and then we get on the first fucking plane outta here.'

Leo could see Tom in the red glow. 'Just abandon them?'

'What do you owe these people, Leo?' Tom answered, his hooked nose and glinting eyes devilish in the light. 'I'm sure Kate was a good fuck but that has to be about it.'

Leo's anger burst. He lunged across Jon Yong and pinned Tom against the side, his forearm across his neck. 'She's been more of a damn friend on this trip then you ever have, you fat, selfish git.'

Leo did not see the punch. His head exploded and he fell across Jon Yong, who cried out in agony.

'You're an arsehole, Leo, you've been hanging onto something that's been dead for years, except you're too desperate to realise it. We came because we feel sorry for you and out of some misguided sense of ... well, duty!'

Leo's anger evaporated. 'Well, don't be misguided any more. Piss off as soon as you can.' He sat back, found another water bottle and washed the stinking mud from his face.

'I'm sorry ...' Tom said, grabbing a hold as the truck swerved.

'You've said enough, Tom. Shut up and piss off when you can.' He knelt next to Jon Yong. 'These people ...' Leo pointed to the front of the truck. '... how did they find you?'

Jon Yong shrugged.

'Think, Jon Yong. Maybe the information has to do with your village. Could we be going there now?'

'Many days by road ... north of Beijing in Liaoning province.'

'Well, who knew of your plan?' Leo asked.

'Just us.'

'And Mr. Wang?'

'No ...' Jon Yong's strength was fading.

'Why did you not take us all before the others left for the airport?' Leo continued.

'We were uncertain,' Jon Yong groaned. 'We waited ... scared ... they were secret agents ... when they left ... good time ...'

'So what was your plan when we didn't return home? The first people questioned would be Wonder World Expeditions – and you,' said Leo. 'It wouldn't take long to find you were missing and then put the pieces together.'

Jon Yong heaved himself up on his elbows, his teeth gritted, eyes blazing. 'My mother ... my father will die without home ... I will do anything ...'

Leo rubbed his eyes, suddenly feeling very tired.

Jon Yong fell back. 'Desperate ... desperate ...' he mumbled.

Leo looked at the young Chinese face, shiny with sweat. Jon Yong's pupils had dilated and his hands had doubled in size.

'You kidnapped us to save your village. You say these people have nothing to do with that but are after information that has been stolen from the Chinese Government ...' Leo noticed Jon Yong's head hanging slackly. He found his weak pulse. 'He's unconscious,' he announced, more to himself than for Tom's benefit.

'The police aren't going to help you,' said Tom. 'These bastards are above the law.'

Leo ignored him and used the light to find his bag under the rear wheels of the bikes. Stripping off his ruined clothes, he found another pair of shorts and a t-shirt. He changed his socks but did not have another pair of trainers. As he finished dressing the truck made a sharp left turn and suddenly the motion was a lot easier. They had left the track and were clearly now on a made-up road. A bus passed, making the canvas bang and suck against the frame. He found another bottle of water and, although it was tepid and stale, he drank the contents greedily. His stomach grumbled and, now the immediate danger had passed, he felt lethargic. Leo worked his way over to where Tom was sitting. He could still smell the contents of the ditch on his skin but his clothes at least, were clean.

Leo looked at Tom. 'If you make it, at least tell the authorities. You don't have to be a friend for that.'

'I'm going to do it, Leo. The moment this thing stops, I'm out of here.'

Leo noticed that Tom had separated his bike from the pile; it was lying next to the closed tailgate.

'As I said, just tell someone ... will you?'

'Come on mate, come with me.'

Leo shook his head and moved to the other side of the truck.

They rattled through dark villages and the outskirts of deserted towns, whose bright lights were tantalizing close, but never did the speed fall.

'What time is it?' Leo asked.

Tom, becoming increasingly agitated, looked at his watch. 'Just after eleven,' he said impatiently. 'Come on you bastard, where's a red light when you need one.'

A few minutes later, the truck slowed. Tom tensed. The truck braked sharply and turned. Tom opened the canvas and peered out. They were now on a minor road, with no illumination except for distant headlights travelling the road they had just turned from. The truck driver changed down a gear as the gradient rapidly increased. The speed bled away.

'This is it,' said Tom.

Leo crossed his arms.

Tom lifted his bike.

Leo closed his eyes.

The truck had slowed to a walking pace. They could smell the thick fumes coming from the straining diesel.

Tom pushed his bike through the opening in the canvas.

'All those years, Tom. Just duty?' said Leo sadly.

Tom rested his bike on the top of the tailgate. 'These people mean nothing to us. We've known them for less than two weeks.'

Leo shivered despite the humidity.

'You're just as bad as the others. A bit of pussy, and for what?' said Tom. The truck's engine changed note as they reached the top of the incline. There was a crunch of gear and the frame jolted as they started to increase speed. 'That's it. We're at the top and I'm going.'

The clang as Tom's bike fell over on the tarmac seemed distant to Leo. Then Tom's bulk stepped through the gap in the tarpaulin, his body red from the taillights – and then he disappeared.

'Bastard.' Leo stared at the black night beyond. Tom was right. He should go. He could be back in England within 24 hours. He bent over Jon Yong, resisting the urge to kick him.

And what about Jon Yong? Leo went over to him. The tour guide's was was drenched in sweat. Leo shook his shoulder and Jon Yong's eyes opened wide, feverish.

'Jon Yong. When we reach wherever we're going, I'm going to have to leave you. I need to go and get help. You understand?'

Jon Yong closed his eyes briefly. He licked his lips and Leo reached for the water bottle, holding it to his mouth. 'When I was in London, the wealth ... even the people sleeping on streets were better dressed than the farmers in my village. It seemed so unfair ...' Jon Yong winced. Leo dribbled more water between his lips. 'China ... civilized thousands of years before western world ... how was it possible ...' Jon Yong groaned. ' ... how was it possible that we still live in such poverty?'

'Kidnapping is not the answer. You need tourists, you said so yourself,' Leo replied.

'I want China to become superpower ...' Jon Yong closed his eyes. '... to take over the greedy West, to recover dignity ... dominance.' Jon Yong's head rolled on his bunched-up jacket. His talk reverted to Mandarin until his eyes opened and focused again on Leo.

England ...' He paused. 'England is run by class, but it is nothing compared with China ...' He coughed, summoning energy. 'Listen to me, Leo ... listen ... you understand, yes? The dynasties have made sure the peasant classes ...' Another pause. '... made sure they stay manageable ... poor ... scared. Communism changed nothing. Never equality. Now even less. The rich will be the people whose families ...' The strain of talking was obvious in Jon Yong's face. '... whose families trace back to the emperors ... they will make sure their power increases ... the rest of us will be as always, fighting ...fighting for scraps, having our homes taken from us so that they can build factories and Olympic stadiums ... and glass office towers. Where is the justice ... the fairness ... why does it always have to be this way?'

Leo wedged the coat more firmly under Jon Yong's head. He didn't know what to say. He was tired and scared. He had come away with a simple agenda: to re-bond with his friends. Suddenly it seemed a facile quest. Or maybe it wasn't. If he really believed that friendships were an important thing in life, then what better way to prove it? In a way his beliefs were being tested as aggressively as Jon Yong's, the only difference being, the embittered Chinese was prepared to kidnap people to prove it. All that was being asked of Leo was to rescue a woman he barely knew. He shook his head wearily, making himself as comfortable as possible, his back against the canvas as he stared vacantly at Jon Yong's agonised face. Two of his friends would be back in England by now, and the third had just abandoned him.

A crashing of gears interrupted his thoughts; the truck started up another incline. Leo gagged from the diesel. There was no sign of any light in the triangle of darkness. He rested his head and closed his eyes. He had not stuck to many things in life – but he was not going to abandon this. He wasn't naive enough to believe that he was doing it for love or anything terribly heroic; it was just the right thing to do. Kate had struck a chord – he liked her.

He looked back over his life – the twists and turns, the bad decisions – and mused over the life he could now be living if he had just pushed himself a little harder to get the sponsorship he needed for racing. But then, he had pushed hard with his friends – and look what had happened? 'What if? What if?' he groaned miserably – then opened his eyes, alerted by Jon Yong's whimpering as the swaying truck nudged and bumped his battered body.

Suddenly, the truck stopped.

Leo sat upright, senses alert. The driver got out. Leo listened above the idling diesel. Moving carefully to the tailgate, he could just make out trees near the verge. He hurriedly switched off the bike light.

The truck lurched forward. Leo fell, tripping over Jon Yong, who cried out in renewed pain. He put a hand over Jon Yong's mouth. 'Shut up ... I think we've arrived.' Leo looked up as the truck passed beneath a wooden archway, the type he had seen in Westerns – sign-posting the entrance to a ranch. But this archway looked dilapidated; bits of wood hung from the frame and one of the legs stood out at an angle. Seeing Chinese lettering on the board across the top, Leo helped Jon Yong sit up. 'Can you read what that says?'

Jon Yong shook his head. 'No glasses.'

'Try,' Leo whispered fiercely. The driver again got out of the cab, walking back to put a chain across the road. Leo ducked down as he came back to the truck.

Leo lifted Jon Yong's head. 'What does it say?' he asked again, shining a bike light on the frame. The paint was faded.

'Yaozang ... historic village,' Jon Yong groaned.

'What's that?' Leo demanded, shaking him. The truck lurched forward. 'What?' The truck was quickly gathering speed.

Leo made a decision. 'I'm going to get help. OK?'

Jon Yong did not respond. His eyes had closed. Leo switched off the light and scrambled over the guide's lolling body. He picked up his bike and dropped it through the opening. It landed with a clatter, so he waited a second to see if the truck slowed. It didn't. He stepped over the tailgate and found a footing on the rear bumper. All the time the truck's speed was increasing. Dust swirled about the rear lights. It looked frighteningly fast in the dark. He decided it was too risky to jump. Instead, he lowered himself with his arms, his back to the tailgate. When his feet met the road, he relaxed as much as possible. Fortunately, the road surface seemed to be of fine gravel – but he was still unprepared for the jolt as the full force of the speed caught him in the middle of his back.

Leo rolled and twisted across the gravel, the skin on his cheek smearing with blood as it made painful contact with the gritty surface. He fell into a ditch and was brought to a stop against the far bank. Dried grass pressed into his face. He could feel the sting of the graze on his cheek and the thudding of his heart as he listened to the sound of the truck disappear. When there was nothing but a silent ringing in his head, he sat up.

The dark was complete. He could not see his hand in front of him. Feeling his way out of the ditch, he climbed back onto the road. He stood, his knees shaking, then walked slowly back up the track until his foot kicked his bike. He felt over it for any damage. His relief began to drain when he found the handlebars were twisted – and turned quickly to despair when he felt the flat tyre. He had no pump. Leo wheeled the bike into the ditch and unhooked the rear light. On the peripheral edge of the red glow, he could see fir trees, standing close together along the far rim of the ditch. As far as he could tell, that side of the road was a forest. Needing something to cover the bike, Leo walked across the road, his heart thudding, his ears straining for any sound. On the other side he could discern rough scrubland, its tufts of coarse grass islands in the pale sand. He found a sheet of crumbling plywood. Dragged it across the road, he did his best to cover the bike.

Deprived of transport, Leo started off down the track, trying to remember what Jon Yong had read from the sign. He was limping slightly; his right ankle hurt when he put pressure on it. Every few yards he stopped and listened, straining his eyes for any light. He had no idea how far he had to go. Pressing the light button for his watch, he was irritated to see it was still foggy with condensation. He felt the road bending down to the right and starting to descend. It became rougher underfoot. Leo slipped and bit his tongue to prevent himself crying out as his sprained ankle twisted painfully. He felt, rather than saw, the space around him opening out. The trees receded. He stopped. The air was still and cool but he was sweating. The silence was intense. The ground had flattened and he edged forward.

Suddenly, his foot kicked something hard. His trainers did not protect his toes sufficiently from the object and he knelt down, cursing the pain that stabbed up his leg. He felt for the object. His hands made contact with rough concrete, about four feet long and rectangular in shape. He moved on, only to stub his foot again. Kneeling down, he felt a similar object. What were they? They seemed vaguely familiar. Still kneeling, he listened and then decided to risk the bike light. He flicked it on and stared for a few moments in confusion. The yellow paint was cracked and mostly gone but there was no mistaking the concrete bar that marked out parking bays. He could see several more in a line.

After a hundred yards he came to a rough stone wall. Confused, he back-tracked and then walked forward to find another line, and then another. The concrete bars finally ran out. He could not risk the light. His thigh bumped into a wooden rail. Ahead, he could vaguely see a darker silhouette.

A sound startled him.

Leo froze. He was sure he had heard a shout. He held his breath. It came again – a long cry of pain, distant. Leo let out his breath in a long hiss and ducked under the rail. He flicked on the light, shielding it so that the light would not be thrown forward. Stepping over a path, he came up against the wall of a building. The shouts were more distinct now. Then he heard something that made him jump. A scream. Jon Yong, Leo thought.

He turned the corner and felt the cold bars of a metal gate pushed back against the wall. His foot kicked a chain, which clinked loudly against the gate. He stumbled back around the corner and half ran, half tumbled along the wall, his skin crawling with the anticipated flood of light from a guard's torch. He finally tripped over a ledge and sprawled into the dirt beyond. He lay panting. It was no good, he thought. In the dark he was just making too much noise. He daren't risk using the torch. Even the feeble glow would be picked out in the blackness. What should he do? He had to decide. There was no sign of the truck.

The shouts had faded. No further screams.

He should wait until first light so he could get a better idea of his surroundings. To his right was the car park. He crawled out to it. When he came across the first line of concrete bars, he stood and slowly followed them out to his left. After a while he picked up the track and hobbled up the slope until he began to make out the trees. He realised he could see them without the aid of the torch. He must be facing East, because he could see their crowns faintly against the pale light of dawn. He pushed his way into the trees, shielding his eyes from the pointed needles until he judged he was sufficiently covered and then sat down to wait.

Chapter 26

Yo Yo Fang sat perfectly still on the old chief's wooden throne, under the low-roofed building. At his feet was Wan's cousin, whose Manchester United scarf spread from his neck like a ribbon of blood. His mouth was open, his front teeth were missing and there was jagged scar tissue around his mouth – his lips had been hacked off two years earlier by a rival gang leader. Slumped half-conscious after Yo Yo Fang had cracked the side of his head with his hand, his Tai Chi sword lay across Yo Yo Fang's lap, his hands clasping the blade; the pressure was light but Yo Yo Fang was focusing his rage through the steel, fighting with himself not to squeeze the razor-sharp edge. He needed to focus if he was to regain control – and the blade edge helped.

There was no electricity. The open-sided room was lit by several fires. The light was not sufficient to penetrate into the roof or far from the boundary. The block-wooden floor reflected the flickering light like the setting sun across water. The Mercedes headlights were being used to light the truck as it was systematically dismantled. The fact that the disk had not been found and the laowai continued to plead innocence was finally beginning to worry him. If he did not get the disk, Minister Chang would not pay him and he would fall out of favour, deprived of any future work. Could he have overlooked something? His hands tightened on the sword and a trickle of blood seeped onto his trousers. He was still missing two laowai but he had all the airports and rail stations watched. Since returning, he had interrogated the snivelling shi who had got in his way by kidnapping the three Australians. He was confident all the man was trying to do was save his stinking family's farmland.

One of Yo Yo Fang's men ducked under the low roof and walked quietly over to the wooden throne. 'We have not found it, Tau Zi.'

Yo Yo Fang did not look up. His hands tightened on the blade. He was beginning to look a fool.

'Bring the girl,' his voice cracked. 'Find the missing laowai.'

The man at his feet rolled over, coughed and slowly got to his knees. He looked up at Yo Yo Fang, who swept the blade so that the point rested a centimetre from the bloody nose. 'Do not fail me again,' Yo Yo Fang growled, The man bowed, his forehead touching the floor, before he got to his feet, wrapping the Manchester United scarf around his face.

Yo Yo Fang walked the pathway lit by the cyalume glowsticks they had found in the back of the truck. The red, yellow and blue lent a festive quality to the night. Yo Yo Fang cracked a spare one he had kept in his sleeve. Immediately, the glass bubble containing the hydrogen-peroxide mixed with the tert-butyl alcohol and fluorescent green dye.

Emma shivered uncontrollably, her teeth chattering like castanets. She held a rope which led to the figure beside her, tied to the next supporting post. Vib's hooded eyes widened with fear as the green stick was held close to his face.

Yo Yo Fang grinned when Vib shied away, trembling. He held the same rope, linked to the figure of the elderly man, who lifted his head and stared. Confused, yet determined.

Zachary had run out of things to say to the maniac. He had pleaded with him in the back of the Mercedes to let them go, the relief he had felt shattered when their rescuers had turned out to be more kidnappers.

A fourth figure also clutched the rope but was standing awkwardly on one leg, the other in plaster. Hilary's forehead was creased with pain.

The final figure clutching the rope looked the most determined.

Yo Yo Fang stood for a while and surveyed her resolute expression. The rope was tight in her grasp. Her eyes were narrowed with anger. She was taller than him by several inches. Big breasts, he thought, the nipples hard points against the thin fabric of her t-shirt. Why were all western women so big and ugly? Blond hair made them look pale and weak. Kate stared back at him, unflinching, as Yo Yo Fang thrust the glowstick into her face.

'My government will be looking for us,' said Kate.

Yo Yo Fang cocked his head to one side like a bird. A dreamy smile softened his face; then, in an instant, it was gone. He traced a finger along the remaining length of fibrous rope before it disappeared out into the black void. He held up the green glowstick and watched the figure swinging upside down from the nearest A-frame. His feet were bound with the rope the others were holding. His chest was bare, his cuts feeding a swarm of mosquitoes.

Yo Yo Fang was convinced this laiwao did not know the whereabouts of the disk, but he had destroyed the cages.

Daniel groaned. He held out a hand towards the green light, his face a mask of dried blood and swollen bites.

'Every hour, one person taken away,' Yo Yo Fang told him. 'Until no-one left to hold you.'

'Why?' Kate shouted. 'We're just tourists.'

Yo Yo Fang was still as he watched Daniel. Eventually, he dropped the glowstick to the floor. 'Make sure she holds the rope for two hours,' he said to 'Manchester United,' then turned and walked away, the pleading and begging a source of evident enjoyment.

As he sat back on the throne, another pathetic laiwao was kneeling in front of him. Her clothes were ripped and filthy, her arms bruised and her hair tousled.

'Your name, Madison Prowle?'

Madison did not respond.

Yo Yo Fang gestured with his hand impatiently. His man, standing behind Madison, grabbed a fistful of hair and tugged her head back.

'You daughter to President?'

Madison glared at him. 'No!' she spat at him.

Yo Yo Fang covered the distance between them quicker than her brain could register. The slap across her face felt like fire had burnt through her cheeks. She gasped, unable to stop the tears.

'You answer,' Yo Yo Fang demanded, his faces inches from hers.

'My father is the Secretary of State for Defence, not the President.'

Yo Yo Fang clicked his fingers. The man behind her leant forward, holding a Sony camcorder.

'You say who you are. You are very scared. You need one million dollars to get home.'

Madison looked into the lens of the camera. 'My name is Madison Prowle.' She looked past the lens at Yo Yo Fang. 'Some low-life has kidnapped us and if you ever find him tear his ...'

Yo Yo Fang calmly reached out and clasped one of Madison's little fingers. He pushed it back until it snapped.

Madison screamed. Yo Yo Fang zoomed in with the camera.

The man behind, pinned her arms behind her so that she could not nurse the finger. Yo Yo Fang stuffed the end of her t-shirt into her mouth. When she had stopped sobbing he pulled it away. 'Talk.'

Madison did as he asked.

Yo Yo Fang took the cassette out of the camcorder. 'Get this to Beijing tonight. They'll know what to do.' He watched the man's bulk walk lightly to the green Pajero, framed by the strengthening light of dawn.

Yo Yo Fang suddenly yawned. He had not slept in over 24 hours. He needed to relax before he could sleep. He eyed the girl in front of him, holding her hand tenderly to her chest. She was an ugly laiwao but he hadn't had black skin before. It would be interesting. He eased himself off the throne, picked Madison up by the hair and dragged her towards the Mercedes.

'Maddy,' a distant voice called. Madison twisted her head, whimpering with the pain. In the greyness of early light she saw a figure. She resisted the tug of Yo Yo Fang a fraction longer.

'Emma,' she called back, feeling brief hope run through her.

Since they had taken her, she had worried about what had happened to the others. Relief buoyed her. Yo Yo Fang dragged her under the low roof and out into the cobbled courtyard.

'Madison, help us,' an agonized voice yelled from the other side of a wall.

The door to the Mercedes was slammed shut. The interior was very dark. All she could see was the smooth skin on Yo Yo Fang's cheek bones and the dark pit of one eye. His mouth was hidden in shadow. Then his hand appeared and settled gently around her neck.

Chapter 27

Leo sat beneath the fir trees, hugging his legs to keep warm, breathing the heavy scent of pine. He desperately wanted to get closer but the light was still feeble.

An engine revved. Moments later, his hiding place was swept by headlights. He threw himself to the ground and tensed for the tyres to skid to a halt. The 4 x 4 clattered on up the track.

Leo sat up slowly, flinching as he heard a desperate noise above him. The bird flapped frantically from its roost, wings beating against the interlinked branches before it was finally free.

Leo stared up at the glimmer of dawn sky. It was time to go.

Then – running footsteps. The crack of branches. The driver had stopped. He had seen him.

Leo limped away through the darkness, his face unprotected from the needles and short stubby branches. One narrowly missed his eye. He plunged deeper into the forest. A root caught his bad ankle and he collapsed, rolling until he hit another trunk. A moment's silence – then the running started again, faster this time; it was coming straight for him. He couldn't get up; the pain was intense. He waited. There was a blur of movement – and then the deer ran by, the sound quickly lost among the densely-packed trees.

Leo groaned and straightened his leg. He felt light-headed. Sweat soaked his body. He was convinced – he must have broken the ankle this time. He gingerly felt around the ankle, then slipped off his trainer. The light was now good enough to see the swelling on the top of his foot but he could move his toes. It couldn't be broken.

He slipped his trainer back on and, using the tree as support, stood up gingerly. 'You useless pathetic bastard,' he said to himself between clenched teeth. 'You've never been able to do anything right, twisting your ankle while running from a deer.' Tears suddenly welled-up in his eyes. He felt them roll down his cheek. 'You're crying!' he said with disgust. 'You pathetic bastard. You useless, pathetic bastard.' He sat down and put his head between his knees. Kate was not meant to be rescued, not by him anyway. 'Bollocks!' he said, savagely. 'Get up. Get up and fight. For the first time in your life, stick to what you planned.'

Leo wiped his eyes. A branch hung from a tree opposite. He crawled over and reached for the end; his weight snapping it like a car backfiring. Using it as a crutch, Leo worked his way in the direction he hoped was the car park. After a while he looked up and was surprised to see blue sky. It was still gloomy under the trees. He could be walking in the wrong direction. If he was moving parallel with the road, he should have reached the car park by now. He was lost! Again, he could feel tears in his eyes. He started up a hill. It was hard to find a point in the smooth carpet of needles to jam his crutch and lever himself up. He was lost. No doubt about it.

He thought for a moment. If he was going up a hill, then he must be going away from the camp or whatever it was. He would have to keep going until he came out of the forest and he could get his bearings – try another approach.

Leo hobbled from the last line of trees and swayed to a halt. He squinted against the sunlight and stared across the wide u-shaped valley. Vultures were circling along the cliff. Leo shuffled to the edge. Below, a pagoda, supported by wooden piles connected by a walkway, ran out along a finger of rock, like a raised scar, high above the valley floor. He picked his way carefully along the edge – then abruptly sat down. He had cleared a slight mound and was looking down into a village, which occupied a bowl scooped from the cliff by an ancient glacier.

He gasped as he took in the scene.

Their minibus, Wang's truck, the Mercedes –all parked in a central arena, the roofless buildings occupying the slopes around it. His mind reeled with the implications of seeing all the vehicles together. The others were meant to be back in England. Leo narrowed his eyes against the low sunlight. He scanned the arena, a tiled building jutting out from the cliff and again along the walkway. This time he noticed several figures, stationary along its length. There was also something hanging by a rope over the valley. He concentrated, but the distance was too great for him to identify the object.

He saw movement by the Mercedes. Was that Madison? And the scary guy he had seen at the farm?

The sun, thankfully, was not in his eyes and – yes, it was Madison. He watched as she was led through a large building, disappearing from view. Seconds later, Leo thought he heard her scream.

More movement. Leo strained his eyes, his attention drawn to a glitter of water as it raced down a gulley cut through the car park. Leo followed its snaking trail over bridges and along channels that navigated the village at roof-height. It wound its way down to the arena before disappearing behind the building that Madison had disappeared into.

Leo had seen enough.

Screened by fir trees, he reached the back of a house and peered through the doorway. Because of virtual destruction by fire, a frame of heavier joists was all that supported the building. Leo looked downwards through three levels to the rubble. There was no way to get down through the building. He looked out over the courtyard, in time to see Zachary pushed through the same doorway they had used for Madison.

Leo hobbled, bent low, behind the perimeter wall, reaching the place where the water passed from the car park and under the wall to the village. He dropped to his knees; the gulley was a meter wide. He craned forward – and slipped on the moss-covered sides.

The current quickly pushed him into the pipe running under the wall, spewing him out a few meters later into the main, wooden aqueduct. The ancient structure groaned and the water sloshed over the sides. The timber's water-smoothed surfaces swept him along. His position was betrayed by the swaying wooden supports, water spurting from old joints. On his back, Leo raced down through the village.

Chapter 28

Madison lay curled in the centre of the grain storage pit, nursing her broken finger.

She cried, not from her finger but from the shame. He had held her throat, squeezing until she had started to lose consciousness. Then he had pulled off her shorts and raped her – sodomized her.

Madison remembered the voice. 'Sharing the peach,' he had said, over and over, as she felt her insides tear. 'Ugly laiwao,' His thrusts had become savage until the pain had made her black out. When she had regained her senses, she had seen him asleep on the back seat of the limousine, curled like a panther. She had stirred and his eyes had immediately opened. Terror had raced through her. She had tried to get out but he had been too quick, pulling her back across her dried blood stains – and raping her again.

She felt it now – the cold glass beads he had forced inside her before she was raped. As each one was pushed inside, it had felt like water freezing in a fissure. She trembled as she recalled the icy spike spreading up until her heart felt as though it was being squeezed. Her skin crawled. All the privilege, all the wealth, all the education, all the protection – none of it had helped her.

Then Madison heard water and shouts for help – it sounded like Zachary.

She could understand why she had been kidnapped – her father – but why the others? What had happened to Tina or Taurean? She hoped they were OK. What had she done?

*****

Zachary was not a good swimmer. The water was up to his chin. As a doctor, he knew better than anyone that he had to keep moving, otherwise hypothermia would take him long before he drowned against the metal grid that covered the top of the grain pit.

He took a breath and pushed away in a breaststroke, sweeping his arms in frantic movements.

*****

Daniel could not see – delirious with the blood pooling in his head.

'Daniel!' A voice was calling. 'Stay awake, stay with me.' It sounded as if she was shouting over crashing surf.

'Can't see ...'

'Daniel. You must stay with me ... please.'

He could hear the strain in her voice.

The irritation of the mosquito bites faded as, slowly, resignation permeated him. 'Let go, Kate,' he slurred. 'It'll be alright.'

'No!' Kate shouted, her voice breaking. 'Don't you dare give up. I'm not blistering my hands for nothing.'

Daniel turned towards the voice.

'Try not to move,' she gasped.

'Kate ... what happened to Leo?'

'He's getting help, that's why you have to hang in there.'

Daniel's shoulders shook. It was a while before she realised he was giggling. 'I'm hanging in there, that's for sure!'

'Leo won't give up. He won't let you down.'

'I let him down.'

'No Daniel, you're wrong. He would never abandon you.'

Daniel started wriggling. Kate screamed.

'Let me go,' Daniel croaked.

The rope burnt as it slipped through her bloody hands. Kate looked desperately at Hilary. She was doing her best but could not put any strength on her broken leg. Tears were rolling down her face. 'I can't hold on much longer, Kate,' she gasped.

Kate squeezed her eyes shut, then opened them; she strained backwards, focusing on the drifting vultures high above. She could not, would not, give up. The evil bastard staring at her calmly from the shade of the pagoda, would have to cut her hands off before she released the rope. She thought of Leo the other side of the door. He must be close - bringing rescue...he must be.

Chapter 29

Leo was sure his progress through the village would be given away by the groaning aqueduct. They would be waiting for him at the end. He couldn't stop. He raised his head; the corner of the rectangular building was coming into view. Suddenly, his feet thudded into the soft wood; it bowed and cracked but did not give way. Water dammed around his body. It gushed over his head. He was pinned against a sluice gate, the water channelling to his left.

Leo yelled with shock at the red and black scarf, wrapped around a water-distorted image of a face. He released his feet from the board. The water shot him forward like a piston, his heels smashing into the face which cried out in anguish before disappearing. The action swivelled his body and, once more, Leo sped off down the channel, this time head-first.

The covered face appeared again as the man leaned into the channel. He made a move to hold Leo, but he had misjudged the speed of the water. Leo locked his arm around the man's neck and together they tumbled from the end of the aqueduct. Leo snatched for a metal hand-rail. Like a trapeze artist, he swung himself over the pit and sprawled into the dirt. He rolled several times, feeling the dirt stick to him. Panting with the effort, he limped back to the side of the pit. The water was emptying through a grating. His attacker had scrambled down the metal stairs and was desperately trying to pull something from between the rusty bars.

Suddenly, the man looked up. The scarf slipped, revealing a scarred hole for a mouth. He snarled and bent again, tugging. Then he straightened with a howl of triumph.

Leo flinched from the gleaming sword blade.

The man scrambled towards the ladder – and tripped. An arm reached up through the grating, white fingers clamped around his ankle.

Leo gasped as he recognised the pale face of Zachary below the grating.

The sword flashed and Zachary snatched his hand away; the metal sparked on the grating as Zachary swam frantically to stay away from the blade.

'Hey!' Leo leapt for the ladder.

Leo searched for a weapon. He shouldered the wooden pole that supported the end of the aqueduct. It swayed, but the aged wood remained upright.

With a manic cry and his scarf streaming behind like a banner, the Chinese had scrambled out of the pit.

Terrified, Leo strained at the support. The blade sliced the soft wood between his hands – and stuck there. Leo stumbled backwards. His attacker was now under the aqueduct, trying to pull the blade free.

Leo leapt forward, the pain in his ankle forgotten; with a flying kick, he snapped the old, supporting pole.

The aqueduct dropped like a guillotine, pinning 'Manchester United' to the rim of the pit, his torn mouth, wide open in pain. Water gushed over his upper body. His hands scratched and clawed at the wood; his cries becoming weaker.

Leo scrambled over to the trapped body. The blade, still half-buried in the wood, had sliced through the man's thigh. Arterial blood was spurting into the water.

Another desperate cry. Leo ran to the pit-edge. Water was still tumbling over the grating. Zachary was pinned beneath it. Leo slid down the access ladder. The door in the grating was held shut by a wedge of wood. It had swollen from the water. Leo kicked at it – uselessly.

'My daughter ...' Zachary murmured, his head forced between the holes in the grating.

'Hang on, Zac,' Leo cried, wrestling with the wood. Water pummelled his back. It was ice cold. He shivered.

'Leo!' Zachary's eyes were fierce.

'Leave me. Get the others.' He let go of his grip on the grating and immediately started to sink.

Leo fell across the grating, his arm plunging into the icy water. Zachary had already sunk out of reach.

He scrambled up the ladder.

'Manchester United' was still, his head hanging back.

Leo wrestled with the sword. Its point snapped away from the wood, the rest sucked out of its owners' leg. Leo's weak ankle lost its grip on the ladder and he tumbled down to the grating, swinging the remainder of the blade maniacally at the wedge of wood. It disintegrated.

The hinges squealed as the access hatch fell back on the grating.

The cold water took his breath away. It was dark. When Leo opened his eyes, he could see silvery bubbles on the surface. He kicked down, his hands stretched in front of him, and quickly hit the hard stone of the floor. There was no sign of Zachary. He kicked off along the floor, searching blindly until his foot made contact with something. Leo swivelled and reached out. Relief swept through him as he clutched a handful of shirt. Pulling, desperate for air, he got Zachary's body to the surface. The water had risen. He floated up through the trapdoor and laid him on the grating. Zachary's skin was blue and his body, pathetically skinny in the cycling shorts and t-shirt.

Leo curled his right hand into a fist and placed it against Zachary's upper abdomen. Using his other hand, he pushed with a quick upward thrust, careful not to put too much pressure on the older man's ribcage. Water dribbled from Zachary's mouth. Satisfied, Leo tilted Zac's head back, pinched his nose and breathed twice into his mouth, watching the corrugated ribs of his chest rise each time.

Zachary did not respond. Leo worked desperately.

He laid his hand on Zac's chest and began to pump; he had counted thirty when Zachary spluttered and his eyes fluttered open.

'Welcome back Zac,' Leo rolled him on his side as he coughed weakly. Zachary started to shiver violently. He was too weak to climb. Leo knelt and lifted him across his shoulders. Struggling for breath himself, Leo hauled Zac up the ladder and, his energy spent, collapsed at the top. A few moments passed before he remembered the sword and forced himself back down to the grating. When he returned, Zachary was still wheezing and coughing up water.

'The others ...' he gasped, pointing at the other pits.

Leo hobbled to the next in line. Water was leaking through the brickwork. He wondered how long it would stand. He peered down at a lone figure. 'Madison, are you alright?'

She looked up at him blankly.

Leo lowered the ladder. 'Climb up.'

There was no change in her expression. Leo then noticed another body in the corner. Taurean lay on his back, eyes staring sightlessly up at him.

Leo stared, horrified, before swinging over the edge and sliding down to Madison. He put his arm around her. 'It's alright, you're safe now.'

'It's all my fault,' she whispered, not able to tear her eyes from the Taurean's body. 'I couldn't see. I didn't know he was there.'

Leo did not look at Taurean. 'Madison, he said, 'the others are waiting for you.'

'Nooo ...' she wailed, pulling her hands out of his grip. 'I can't, it's all my fault.'

Leo looked desperately to the opening above. 'Madison, I can't carry you all the way up there.'

'Leave me,' she wailed.

'I'll get help.' He pulled himself up the ladder. Zachary now sat against the pit wall, his head between his knees, his body convulsing.

Leo limped to the next pit.

He lowered the ladder to Emma and Vib, who quickly clambered up and over the rim wall.

'Vib ...' Leo stopped short of giving him a hug, shocked at the withdrawn expression on his friends face: the sunken eyes with deep shadows; the dark skin a weak coffee colour; dirty, limp hair. Emma's eyes were fearful, a bruise on her cheek, scratches on her legs and arms. They held each other. 'What happened? Why aren't you on a plane back to England?'

Vib lifted his shoulders, shaking his head slowly before focusing on the dead figure beneath the collapsed aqueduct. 'You get them all Leo?'

The answer came in a guttural shout from the doorway to the derelict building. Leo spun around. The man who had set fire to the farm stood there, legs apart, glaring.

'Did you bring help?' Vib cried, his voice suddenly shrill.

Leo glanced at him. Vib was trembling, tears in his eyes.

The big Chinese slowly advanced; a grin lifted the corner of his mouth. He shouted. Leo wasn't sure whether it was a command or a challenge. He shook Vib's shoulders.

'Vib! It's just you and me. Come on, we have to get to the others.' Vib's head wobbled weakly.

'Emma, help Zac. Try to distract this guy long enough for us to get away,' Leo shoved Vib in the opposite direction – and kept pushing him while holding the stub of the sword out towards the Chinese.

They reached the corner. Emma had sat down beside Zachary, covering her head in her hands. The man went up to them, unsure what to do.

Leo pulled Vib around the corner of the building. Ahead was a low conical roof, a dull red in the sunlight. Beneath was dark shadow. Vib froze.

'Come on. I can't do this on my own,' urged Leo. 'We have to get the others.'

Why didn't you bring the police?'

I didn't have time.'

'No ... can't go back in there.'

'Vib, take this.' Leo forced the broken sword into his hands. 'If any of the bastards get close ... skewer their eyes.' He shouted the last three words because Vib was already shambling away from him.

'You got us into this. You fight them,' Leo heard Vib yell back at him.

Ducking under the tiled eaves, Leo could smell wood smoke. Opposite, he saw a wooden chair, next to the entrance to the walkway. A wooden screen behind it blocked out the view over the valley. Leo continued out onto the walkway. His heart pounded.

The wood was worn and almost white from weathering.

Screwing up his eyes from the glare, he could make out the pagoda structure at the walkway's end. He concentrated on the figures before the ornate structure: Hilary, Kate and ... Leo froze. It looked like Daniel – hanging by his ankles over the void.

Kate heard his footsteps first. Her eyes had been squeezed shut with strain.

'Leo!' she screamed.

He grimaced with the pain from his ankle as he hopped the last few yards.

A darker shadow disentangled itself from the gloom beneath the pagoda.

Leo collapsed to a halt, an arm's length from Kate.

Hilary groaned as the man glided towards Leo down the short stretch of walkway from the pagoda.

Instantly menacing. Leo realised – he had never felt so fearful in his life.

This was the man from the Mercedes. Shorter than Leo had imagined, but the menace was tangible.

He stopped in front of Daniel.

'Your name?'

Leo slowly got to his feet, holding the handrail for support. 'Leo McLaren,' he said, looking off towards Kate. The veins in her neck and arms were bulging.

'You know where information hidden. You have stolen disk,' Yo Yo Fang said in a bored manner.

'He's insane, Leo, be careful,' warned Kate.

Leo backed up against the railing as the man advanced.

'My name ... Yo Yo Fang.' His mouth twitched into a smile before he bowed. 'Do you have disk ... Leo?'

Leo shook his head. 'Let my friends go and I'll help you find it.'

Yo Yo Fang clicked his tongue, shaking his head. 'Not good, Leo. You only help friend if you give me disk.' He reached Hilary. Slipping a small knife from his sleeve, he cut the rope binding her to the support post. She collapsed but somehow managed to hold onto the rope leading to Daniel.

Yo Yo Fang knelt slowly, smiled and slashed the rope.

It sprang away. Kate staggered.

Daniel fell, then snapped to a stop as Kate caught the slack, his head level with the walkway.

Leo saw the blood dripping from Kate's hands. He took a step forward.

Yo Yo Fang shook his head. 'Where disk?'

'I don't know what you're talking about.'

'Then you watch friend die.'

Suddenly, Leo heard footsteps behind him. It was all over, he was sure. The big man would be cutting off any retreat. But Yo Yo Fang's eyes narrowed. Leo risked a glance back.

Vib was slowly advancing down the walkway, the sword held in front of him, the end bloody.

When he was level, Leo looked at him with surprise.

'All for one ...' Vib smiled weakly. '... and all that.'

Leo nodded. They both took a step forward.

Yo Yo Fang hesitated. His expression remained neutral. The knife was replaced with the thread of beads; they started to clack in the still air.

Emboldened, Leo and Vib reached Kate. She cried out in pain and terror. The rope slipped from her hands. Leo lunged forward, his hands scraping along the wooden floor. A splinter dug into his palm. His fingers clenched the rope a metre from the end. Daniel had disappeared from view. Leo jammed his back against the railing and heaved, gaining another few metres. The pulley squeaked. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw that Yo Yo Fang had stopped retreating and was watching Vib with indifference.

Leo strained on the rope, pulling Daniel back into view. He was mumbling something as his face reappeared.

'Daniel, it's Leo. I'm going to swing you over to the walkway.' Leo tied the rope off to a support. He put his hand up on the rail and immediately felt a pain so intense that he thought he would black out, It seared through his body. Yo Yo Fang's knife had pinned his hand against the wooden rail. Blood gushed from the wound. Leo groaned and slumped to the walkway flooring, his arm stretched up to the rail.

Vib's private school education had included tuition in the art of fencing. The skill acquired all those years ago giving him the courage to attack Yo Yo Fang. He held the broken sword in front of him like a foil. The look of amusement left Yo Yo Fang's as Vib stepped forward with a quick thrust that narrowly missed his face.

Leo had no doubt Yo Yo Fang would soon overcome Vib.

His knees trembled as he pulled the knife and his hand from the wood and pulled the keen blade free. He held the damaged hand to his chest, blood dripping down his arm, then knelt and cut through Kate's bonds.

'Let me see,' she demanded.

'We don't have time,' he gasped. 'Help me with Daniel.'

She shook her head and ripped the sleeve off her t-shirt. Turning it inside-out, she bound it tightly around Leo's hand.

Vib successfully parried with Yo Yo Fang, who now had a slit across his shirt front as he defended himself with his bare hands, knocking the blade aside every time Vib thrust forward. Vib's confidence was gaining. His balestras – the jumps and the lunges – were energetic, and Yo Yo Fang's hands became a blur as he slapped the flashing blade aside.

But Vib was weakening. His arm was quickly losing strength.

'Daniel, we're going to swing you over,' Leo yelled.

Kate started to pull on the rope, the action through the pulley, beginning a slow pendulum effect on the unconscious body. Leo called repeatedly for Daniel to help, but his head and arms hung slackly. Then, with Leo stretching out on his stomach, Daniel's body swung near the walkway. Leo touched his shoulder and was then able to grab a fistful of shirt, but Daniel's dead weight threatened to pull him off the walkway; he had to let go. He looked sideways. Vib was tiring rapidly, falling back, almost stepping on Leo, his body drenched with sweat. But then he dropped one hand to the floor and executed a perfect passata-sotto. The move caught Yo Yo Fang by surprise, the point nicking his thigh. He backed away, anger twisting his features as he looked down at the spreading circle of blood.

'Hurry the fuck up,' Vib gasped.

Daniel swung back to Leo; this time, Kate stretched for the rope binding his ankles while Leo held his shirt. They pulled him onto the walkway; he landed with a lifeless thud. Leo cut the rope and it fell away through the pulley and down to the rocks below.

The sight spurred Yo Yo Fang into a fresh attack. He charged Vib, who defended with a parry and feint, every minute he had spent in the fencing room giving him another second of fight.

Leo slashed through the rope with the knife. Daniel groaned as he was dragged back down the walkway. Meanwhile, Vib's blade had been knocked away and the broken end dug into the wood of the handrail. It jammed long enough for Yo Yo Fang to swivel onto one leg and kick with his other. His foot connected with Vib's chest, hurling him backwards. Yo Yo Fang now advanced on the others, his face displaying a hateful rictus. Vib staggered to his feet and stumbled back to the others.

'Can you take Daniel?' Leo asked Kate.

Without hesitation, she took his place and started to pull Daniel towards the end of the walkway. Leo stepped forward; his intention was to delay things as long as possible. If they could get to a vehicle, there was a chance of escape. He held out his hand in a bid to stall Yo Yo Fang from an immediate attack. 'I know where the disk is,' he said.

'Enough.' Yo Yo Fang launched into the air and Leo braced himself for the pain. Instead, he heard a bellow behind him. He turned aside a fraction; someone passed in a blur.

Yo Yo Fang was caught across the handlebars. Like a surprised deer on the grill of a pick-up truck, he was borne away down the walkway, splayed across the front of Tom's mountain bike, the Hawaiian shirt billowing, the legs pumping, a roar echoing off the cliff-face.

Yo Yo Fang twisted the handlebars and the bike careened into the handrail. Tom catapulted forward, his arm hooking around Yo Yo Fang's neck before they both dropped over the walkway's edge.

Leo looked at Vib, stunned. For a moment they stood there, staring at the spinning front wheel of Tom's bike, before they cried out his name in unison and rushed forward.

Leo dropped to his stomach and crawled to the edge. He looked down. Tom was a few feet below, his arms hooked over a wooden crosspiece. Below his dangling legs, far below, were the jumbled rocks of the scree slope that led down to the first trees of the valley.

'Give me your hand,' Leo called, reaching down. Vib squirmed in beside him. Then they were aware of movement. Yo Yo Fang had landed in a fork of an upright and crosspiece. They watched, hoping he was too injured to move. But he did move – and stared up at them.

'Come on, Tom,' Leo urged.

Tom grimaced. 'Thought I'd deserted you, didn't you?'

'Tom, come on. Now's not the time.'

Tom looked down. Yo Yo Fang was using the timber like a children's climbing frame. He would be with them in moments.

Tom looked up. 'It's me they're after.'

'Shut-up,' Leo shouted. 'They're after a disk, it's nothing to do with you.'

'I have it.'

'Enough bullshit, Tom, stretch up, give me your hand,' said Leo.

Yo Yo Fang was having difficulty getting up to the next crosspiece. He stood on the one below, surveying his onward route.

'I'm a courier for the government,' Tom said, looking at them earnestly, sweat dripping down his face. 'It pays well and I get to see the world.'

'Shut-up, you're a car salesman,' Leo shouted. 'Give me your hand. You're delirious. You've been on a bike too long.'

'No mate, I haven't sold cars for years,' Tom groaned, shifting his weight and looking down.

Yo Yo Fang had found a point where an upright was close enough for him to reach. He pulled himself up to the next crosspiece, which ran below Tom's dangling feet.

'Come on, for God's sake, Tom, we haven't got long,' Leo yelled, ignoring his friend's earnest look.

'Sorry, but this was a great cover.' Tom looked down. Yo Yo Fang had the upright between his knees for support and was pulling himself steadily upwards 'I'm sorry I ruined it for everyone ... the computer disk is ...'

'You bastard,' Vib screamed. 'Do you know what they've done to us? Do you have any idea, you son-of-a-bitch? I hope you rot in hell.' Vib pushed back from the edge and staggered off down the walkway.

Leo remained, his hand still offering help. 'Come on Tom,' he said quietly.

Tom looked up, his eyes glistening. 'Yeah, I know. Not much of a friend. Not much of anything really ... big debts.'

'What about Janine and the kids?'

'We've been separated for two years, mate. Why do you think you haven't been back to mine for so long?'

Yo Yo Fang reached the crosspiece. He moved lightly across it and leapt for Tom's legs. Tom let go. He gave a wink and hooked his thighs around Yo Yo Fang.

They fell out together into the clear morning sun.

Leo could hear his heart boom. The beat became slower ... slower ... slower ... the pounding stopped.

The patterned colours of the Hawaiian shirt, like tiny humming birds, shimmered in the sunlight.

He must have wings, Leo thought, keeping him up for so long.

Leo could see every detail: their shadows on the rock; Tom's fist pounding into Yo Yo Fang as he struggled to break free.

Did Tom look up once? Was there time for that?

How far down was it? He pictured Tom's big hooked nose over a laughing mouth as he finished telling one of his awful jokes ... sitting in pubs by open fires ... drinking ... listening to Depeche Mode ... cars ... girls.

Always friends.

Leo caught his breath. The world sped up. Voices were shouting at him.

He felt hands pull him back from the edge. But he resisted. He wanted to watch Tom fly.

He could smell the dry wood around him. He focused on the rocks below.

Nothing.

Tears. He searched through their fogginess. Had Tom landed, and walked away?

He blinked, shrugging his shoulders at the hands that were pulling him back. Could he see colour among the grey slabs?

Nothing.

Leo finally rolled over.

Kate was kneeling on one side, Vib on the other.

Leo couldn't hear what they were saying above Tom's echoing voice.

Black vultures circled high above.

Suddenly – a hurricane-strength wind. He wondered how vultures could create such a wind.

A Chinese Frelon military transport, hovered above.

*****

Leo breathed the hot, musky scent of Kate's skin. He smelt her sweat and the faint odour of shampoo still lingering in her tangled hair. She was holding him tightly, rocking him.

'It'll be alright.' She ran her hand up his neck. 'You did everything you could.'

Leo realised he had been holding his breath and suddenly let go with a deep shudder. He was mesmerized by the slowing front wheel of Tom's bike. Against the background noise of the dying helicopter engine that had landed in the arena behind them, he could just hear the slight tick as the unbalanced wheel rubbed a fork arm with each revolution.

Tick. The wheel spun.

Tick. How long had Tom been gone?

Tick. He'll be back soon, telling some stupid Chinese joke.

Tick. The grumpy bastard actually came back to rescue them!

Tick. The wheel spun. The spokes sent fairground shadows across the bleached planks.

Tick. What was he talking about – computer disk?

Tick. He could hear shouted commands. Running footsteps across the cobbled arena.

Tick. 'Leo, we have to be going.'

Tick. He resisted Kate. He would wait for Tom to climb back up.

Tick. 'Leo. The army's here. We have to go.' Vib's receding voice.

Tick. The wheel stopped.

Leo's vacant gaze took in the bike brake cable. It was loose. The brakes were not connected. He looked at the hub. There was something odd about the disc between the two pads. He looked at it, knowing instantly what it was.

Obvious, yet he doubted they would ever have found it.

A pair of brown dusty shoes stepped into vision. 'Come,' a voice commanded.

Leo looked up to a stern, youthful face under a peaked military hat. Kate was standing anxiously beside him. She tried to smile but a tear ran down her cheek.

Leo could feel the sun-twisted wood press into his body. Far below him was Tom - climbing back up. Leo was sure. He wouldn't leave until Tom arrived. Then they could all finish together.

'Come. Now.' The young man held out a hand to help him up.

Leo looked down the walkway. Hilary, Zac, Vib, Emma – all waiting for him at the end, in a wretched huddle.

Kate knelt next to him. She put her arm around his shoulders. 'Let me help you.'

He allowed himself to be pulled up. He was taller than the Chinese Army officer, who had to tilt his head back to look up at him.

'Now.' The officer pointed to the end of the walkway.

Leo nodded. The officer marched off and Leo knelt down by Tom's front wheel. The computer disk had a larger than normal centre so that it could stick to the disc brake around the hub of the wheel. Leo quickly unclasped the wheel and slipped the disk into his hand. Kate was about to ask what he was doing when he quickly shook his head. He wedged the disk into the small of his back, tightening his belt.

He walked to the rail and looked down. There was still no sign of Tom. Kate hooked her arm through his. 'I didn't know he had split up with Janine. What kind of friend am I?' he murmured miserably.

'You were his best friend,' Kate replied.

'Am. He's coming back.'

'You ... are his best friend.' She pulled him away towards the others.

Leo watched Daniel being loaded onto the helicopter on a stretcher. Madison, a blanket around her, was escorted by two officials, her finger in a temporary splint.

Daniel held out his hand and clasped Leo's tightly. He tried to say something but his lips were too swollen. A man of Oriental appearance, dressed in an expensive suit, bowed slightly as Leo walked toward the helicopter door.

'Very sorry for your loss,' the man murmured in an American accent. 'Which one of you is Tom Bastable?'

Leo studied the expressionless face: short grey hair, large-framed sunglasses. 'Who are you?'

'Mr. ... er, Smith.' He forced a smile. 'I'm with the American Embassy in Beijing.'

Leo shook his hand numbly. 'Leo McLaren. You know Tom?'

'We ... know of him.' They glanced towards the surviving gang member, his head in bloody bandages from Vib's sword work, as he was led to a police car in handcuffs. Taurean lay with a blanket covering his body, next to 'Manchester United,' both waiting to be loaded into a van.

More sirens. More police cars were arriving, screeching down the narrow road to the arena.

'How did you know where to find us?'

Mr. Smith took his elbow and steered a reluctant Leo away from the others. He took off his sunglasses. Grey eyes studied Leo, the expression uncompromising. 'We had a call from a top-level minister in the Chinese government – they were able to tell us where our Defence Secretary's daughter was ... the price was the recovery of a ... sensitive ... piece of information ...'

Leo pulled away from the penetrating stare and glanced back at the group huddled around the helicopter. 'Tom is missing,' he said quietly.

'He's the guy that fell with the gang leader?'

Leo's gaze snapped back to Mr. Smith. 'He saved our lives.'

Mr. Smith nodded. 'Did he talk to you about ... anything?'

'I'm tired, Mr. Smith.' Leo could feel the disk pressing into his back. His bandaged hand throbbed. He shook his head. 'I thought it was a kidnapping. For her ...' He gestured towards Madison, being comforted near the helicopter.

The man's face went stony. He gazed at Leo, unwaveringly. 'Son, the information was sent days ago via a laptop and satellite from the back seat of a taxi in Beijing. Mr. Bastable was back-up, in case the information was corrupted in transmission. As it turned out, it wasn't. What he carried was ... redundant. But if we could hand it back to the Chinese government we would be doing our relationship a whole power of good.'

Tom was British, what's it got to do with you?' Leo watched them unload Jon Yong, a drip feed in his arm, from the back of Mr. Wang's truck. Two medics carried him to a waiting ambulance.

'We're allies, we pool resources ... sometimes.' Mr. Smith glanced at the stretcher carrying Jon Yong.

'What's going to happen to him?' Leo asked.

'He'll be taken care of.'

Leo looked at the American sharply. 'His family are being forced from their home. He did what he did out of desperation.'

'Son, it's not our concern ...'

'Yeah, well it is mine,' Leo retorted, squaring up to the shorter man, who reacted with mild surprise. 'Tom was a good friend. Whatever he did, he did for his reasons, which I may not ever fully understand, but it will not be made redundant now. You understand?'

Smith shrugged. 'Son, this is a little above you, don't you think?'

Leo leant closer. 'The name is Leo. You make sure my friend gets home, you make sure his ...' Leo closed his eyes. When he opened them, he blinked away a tear, '... you make sure he gets a decent burial – and you make sure his family is adequately compensated ...'

'Son ... sorry, Leo ... that's outta my control, I ...'

'Bullshit! Tom is not going to be forgotten, understand? He's not redundant, you son-of-a-bitch.'

Smith adjusted his sunglasses, his lips pursed. 'Calm down, Leo, have some respect for who you're talking to.'

'Fuck you!' Leo took a step forward. Smith backed away a pace. 'And Jon Yong, compensate his family for the land the Chinese government have taken. Otherwise, this ...' Leo swept his arm over the arena. '... will be headline news in our newspapers when we get home.'

Leo turned and strode towards the helicopter. Kate was walking towards him with a worried frown.

'We could keep you here, Leo,' Smith called out.

Leo raised a finger over his shoulder, collected Kate and they clambered onto the helicopter.

The American's suit was buffeted by the downdraft, as he watched the big machine lift into the air before walking off towards the team who were rigging ropes from one of the A-frames to rappel into the valley and retrieve the bodies.

'Who was he?' Kate asked.

'Nobody,' Leo replied.

He felt a hand on his. 'We need to get you to a doctor.' Kate leant and kissed him on the cheek. 'I still have some holiday due. Mind if I use it up with you?'

Leo squeezed her hand. 'England's bloody awful at this time of year. How about we go to your place?'

'Wonderful!' Zachary leant across and tapped Leo's knee, the blanket coming away from his skinny body, Hilary smiled with her brother.

Sitting opposite, Vib stared at Daniel – on a stretcher between them. A medical officer was crouched over him, adjusting a bandage.

Vib turned to Leo. 'Thanks,' he said. There were tears in his dark eyes.

Leo nodded.

Emma and Madison held each other; two US Embassy officials sat rigidly either side, of them. They tried to say something. The effort was too much.

Leo glanced out the window at the forest slipping by; then, the pervasive puzzle of rice fields started. Life was knitted together like those squares of varying greens, he thought. Each represented the toil you had to put in to see the fruits of a successful job – an education, a family...even children – bloody hard, unrelenting work – the fields were tended and harvested by the network of pathways and as he gazed at them he realised friendships were like those pathways - bonds in life, as essential as DNA. He was going to miss Tom – badly.

#####

About the author

Simon M. Gray's multidimensional journey to the world of thrillers

What to do if your boss is telling you that he does not want you to work for him any longer? Is it a failure or just on the contrary, a reason for joy (overall, you hated him)? Simon M. Gray's answer to a bad boss was to write a thriller.

After losing his job, Simon had very strong feelings about his former employer: "I was crushed, my plans devastated. I considered what type of person could be so indifferent to another's fate and how many people's lives had been ruined by others' blinkered self interest. Was it really him or had business made him that way? So I started writing." In this way, he turned from a trainee of a powerboat company into a writer. His adventure with literature started in 2008 with _Blinkered,_ a thriller where one of the main characters is an owner of (what a surprise!) a powerboat business. Later Simon created _Unquiet Mind_ , a sequel to _Blinkered_. His latest work _Time Stops Ticking_ published.2010

At the time of writing _Blinkered_ apart from his negative experience of working in the motor boat industry Simon had already behind him some practice as a yacht master. A journey - on the sea and across different continents - was an inseparable part of his work and his life. No wonder that travelling is also one of the themes of his books. This experienced traveller takes his readers on a journey to the exciting places that he has visited, from the United States to the Caribbean, from Peru (with the Amazon jungle and the Inca villages in the Andes Mountains) to Trinidad, China and Hong Kong.

Through his books, Simon also takes his readers along for the ride across current affairs. The background of the events which Simon's characters are involved in consists of the most burning phenomena on the political and social global scene: an Al Qaeda-like terrorist organisation and its global network, China's emergence as a superpower, an under-age suicide in Gaza, the glamorous but bloodthirsty world of business.

Although Simon's novels are classified as thrillers they inspire readers to deeper reflection. They are also a journey into the world of human feelings in search for answers to everyday questions. Ways of dealing with life's challenges, a reflection on loneliness experienced even in the group of seemingly close people and the importance of friendship are amongst the more serious themes he tackles.

Simon's novels are more complex than one could expect from thrillers and reflect the author's multifaceted nature. Born in South Africa, Simon currently lives in Arundel, UK, but has spent some time working in the US. He openly admits that his professional life has been "wobbly and bumpy" and that writing is much more to him than just another rung in his career's ladder – it is the "paracetamol to the headache" of his past professional experiences.

http://www.simonmgray.com

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