the U.S. intelligence organizations.”
Mcdermid nodded, wondering. “Curious.”
“Whoever sent him, Smith is in Shanghai now, which will work to our
favor. I’ll handle him. But that leaves us with another large problem.
One we had not expected.”
“Who? What?” he demanded.
“Yu Yongfu. He pretends to be a fox, but he’s a frightened rabbit. A
rabbit will gnaw himself to death when he feels cornered. Yu is
terrified. He will destroy himself and us.” There was a thoughtful
pause. “You’re right. We can’t take the risk. Get rid of him.”
When Mcdermid rang off, the information about Smith continued to resound
in his mind. A knock at his door roused him from his reverie. “Yes?”
“Ms. Sun is in the living room, sir.”
“Thank you, Lawrence. Give her a drink. Tell her I’ll be along.”
He remained mulling for another few minutes and then roused himself. Sun
Liuxia was the daughter of an important official he could not afford to
offend. She was also stunning and young.
Smiling, he freshened up, changed his dinner jacket, and left the
bedroom. It was still early. Through the penthouse windows, the lights
of Hong Kong spread before him as if all the world were his. By the time
he entered the living room, his good humor had fully returned.
Shanghai Still seated in Yu Yongfu’s exotic armchair in the Flying
Dragon offices, Zhao Yanji sighed. Miserable and discouraged, he stared
down at the empty pistol in his lap. Perhaps the American actually could
help.
Maybe the answer was to leave Shanghai at last. Or he could always
retrieve the clip, put the pistol to his head, and pull the trigger.
He studied the weapon thoughtfully, stroking it with a finger. He
imagined the bullet shooting from the chamber, exploding like lightning
from the barrel, and blasting through his skull and the soft tissue of
his brain. He did not shudder as he contemplated this. In fact, he had a
moment of peace. At last, his battle would be over, and he would no
longer feel the terrible burden of the company’s dishonor.
He looked around Yu Yongfu’s office, so familiar. As treasurer, he had
spent a lifetime here, it seemed, trying to educate the selfish
entrepreneur and rescue the company from him. He took a deep breath and
found himself shaking his head. A surge of resentment, almost of
determination, rushed through him. No, he was not ready to die. He still
wanted to fight. The company could still be saved.
He should get out of here before he was discovered. He pushed himself up
to his feet, feeling relieved. To make a decision was to reaffirm the
future.
There was a small sound. No more than a sharp click.
Puzzled, he turned. The office door was open. A figure stood silhouetted
against the outer office’s light. Before Zhao could speak, there was a
loud pop. As his sight went blank, he realized what it was–a silenced
gunshot. Abruptly, pain burst from his heart. It was so overwhelming he
did not feel himself topple face first to the carpet.
Covert One 4 - The Altman Code
Chapter Seven.
In their mansion on the outskirts of Shanghai, Yu Yongfu and his family
had an important guest. His arrival had surprised them. He was a fat old
man with many chins, who sat behind Yu’s massive desk as if he owned it.
Yu said nothing, trying to forget the aggravations of having such a
meddling father-in-law. At least the Empress’s manifest was safely
locked away now, and all that remained to be handled was the American
spy. He must have faith that Feng would eliminate him.
With pride, he watched the old man beam at the small boy who stood shyly
to his side. He turned to study the boy, who wore Western-style pajamas
with the face of Batman emblazoned on his thin chest. He was small for
his age and smelled of Western peanut butter.
The old man–Li Aorong–patted him indulgently on the head. “You are how
old now, Peiheng?”
“Seven, honored Grandfather.” With a glance at his
Mcdermid nodded, wondering. “Curious.”
“Whoever sent him, Smith is in Shanghai now, which will work to our
favor. I’ll handle him. But that leaves us with another large problem.
One we had not expected.”
“Who? What?” he demanded.
“Yu Yongfu. He pretends to be a fox, but he’s a frightened rabbit. A
rabbit will gnaw himself to death when he feels cornered. Yu is
terrified. He will destroy himself and us.” There was a thoughtful
pause. “You’re right. We can’t take the risk. Get rid of him.”
When Mcdermid rang off, the information about Smith continued to resound
in his mind. A knock at his door roused him from his reverie. “Yes?”
“Ms. Sun is in the living room, sir.”
“Thank you, Lawrence. Give her a drink. Tell her I’ll be along.”
He remained mulling for another few minutes and then roused himself. Sun
Liuxia was the daughter of an important official he could not afford to
offend. She was also stunning and young.
Smiling, he freshened up, changed his dinner jacket, and left the
bedroom. It was still early. Through the penthouse windows, the lights
of Hong Kong spread before him as if all the world were his. By the time
he entered the living room, his good humor had fully returned.
Shanghai Still seated in Yu Yongfu’s exotic armchair in the Flying
Dragon offices, Zhao Yanji sighed. Miserable and discouraged, he stared
down at the empty pistol in his lap. Perhaps the American actually could
help.
Maybe the answer was to leave Shanghai at last. Or he could always
retrieve the clip, put the pistol to his head, and pull the trigger.
He studied the weapon thoughtfully, stroking it with a finger. He
imagined the bullet shooting from the chamber, exploding like lightning
from the barrel, and blasting through his skull and the soft tissue of
his brain. He did not shudder as he contemplated this. In fact, he had a
moment of peace. At last, his battle would be over, and he would no
longer feel the terrible burden of the company’s dishonor.
He looked around Yu Yongfu’s office, so familiar. As treasurer, he had
spent a lifetime here, it seemed, trying to educate the selfish
entrepreneur and rescue the company from him. He took a deep breath and
found himself shaking his head. A surge of resentment, almost of
determination, rushed through him. No, he was not ready to die. He still
wanted to fight. The company could still be saved.
He should get out of here before he was discovered. He pushed himself up
to his feet, feeling relieved. To make a decision was to reaffirm the
future.
There was a small sound. No more than a sharp click.
Puzzled, he turned. The office door was open. A figure stood silhouetted
against the outer office’s light. Before Zhao could speak, there was a
loud pop. As his sight went blank, he realized what it was–a silenced
gunshot. Abruptly, pain burst from his heart. It was so overwhelming he
did not feel himself topple face first to the carpet.
Covert One 4 - The Altman Code
Chapter Seven.
In their mansion on the outskirts of Shanghai, Yu Yongfu and his family
had an important guest. His arrival had surprised them. He was a fat old
man with many chins, who sat behind Yu’s massive desk as if he owned it.
Yu said nothing, trying to forget the aggravations of having such a
meddling father-in-law. At least the Empress’s manifest was safely
locked away now, and all that remained to be handled was the American
spy. He must have faith that Feng would eliminate him.
With pride, he watched the old man beam at the small boy who stood shyly
to his side. He turned to study the boy, who wore Western-style pajamas
with the face of Batman emblazoned on his thin chest. He was small for
his age and smelled of Western peanut butter.
The old man–Li Aorong–patted him indulgently on the head. “You are how
old now, Peiheng?”
“Seven, honored Grandfather.” With a glance at his
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