Two Peasants And A President Part 16

When a lone police car responding to the nurse's call pulled up to the entrance of Tianjin Central Hospital #77, the officers were shocked to see a group of patients milling about outside, some fully clothed and holding suitcases, a few s.h.i.+vering in their hospital gowns. The officers were accustomed to being obeyed, so they were surprised when their order to go back inside was met with nothing more than angry stares. Some patients had their cell phones out and were attempting to call a cab. Others were calling their consulates. One had succeeded in reaching the night desk of her consulate and was screaming hysterically that they were being kidnapped outside Tianjin Central Hospital #77.

The two officers called for back up and then headed inside. When the elevator door opened on the 7 floor, they encountered two more fleeing patients hauling suitcases. When ordered to go back to their rooms, the patients simply refused. The officers grabbed the suitcase handles and a tug of war ensued. When the other elevator door opened suddenly, the patients abruptly turned loose of their suitcases, sending the hapless officers backward onto their b.u.t.ts. Before they could get up, the elevator door had closed and the two patients were on their way down to join the growing mob outside.

At the same time, unbeknownst to anyone, one patient had learned that there were other foreigners on four and had snuck down there. He was going room to room, much as the captain had, raising the alarm. The result was as predictable as it had been on seven; soon virtually the entire hospital was either aware of the mutiny or actively engaged in it. Yelling about organ stealing in a hospital, it turned out, was every bit as effective as screaming fire in a movie theatre.

Outside, two more police cars had arrived at the shocking scene. Since they were still far from possessing overwhelming force, two of the officers decided to go inside to investigate further, leaving the other two to await reinforcements. A lone cab pulled up to the entrance and the mob surged forward. Unlike the foreigners, the cab driver had a healthy respect for the policeman who ordered him not to pick anyone up. He tried to pull away from the curb, but people were already diving into the backseat. All he succeeded in doing was moving a few yards.

The two police officers who reached the 7 floor found the head nurse peering over the top of the nurses station. Seeing them, she began to regain her composure and her courage. She started at the beginning, which was in this case the young American's room. By this time the officer in the closet had regained consciousness and was kicking at the closet door, all the while attempting to expel Kleenex from his mouth, his hands still cuffed behind him. Once they had un-cuffed him, he rushed into the bathroom and with the help of moistened fingers, pried the remaining chunks of tissue out of his mouth.

It did not take long for the officers to start to a.s.semble a picture. They radioed headquarters, notifying them that a prisoner had escaped, an American prisoner, and that she was likely accompanied by a tall American male. They would only discover much later when they searched the bas.e.m.e.nt that there were actually two American males.

A discovery of another sort was proceeding along parallel lines but more slowly. As captain Davis had always suspected, the kidnapping of foreigners for their valuable organs was being perpetrated by a relatively small group of miscreant police officers along with a handful of bureaucrats and hospital personnel. Until now it had been easy to mask their activities because of the thousands of transplants going on in several Tianjin hospitals and because the use of Chinese convicts as donors was well known. Foreigners were a.s.sumed to be recipients, not donors.

Now questions were being raised, questions for which there were no good answers. American prisoners? A revolt involving foreigners at one of the largest and best known hospitals in China? China's government had spent countless centuries perfecting the art of the cover-up, as evidenced by the ongoing slaughter in Tibet and elsewhere, but until the morning dawned, few in the bureaucracy realized they soon would be engaged in one of the most daunting cover-ups of all.

Until then, those who knew very well why the escaped American prisoners had to be apprehended were forced to explain to those who didn't, without implicating themselves. Inevitably, there were some who balked and a few who simply fled. Clearly, control of the operation and a chain of command had to be established. It was not until dawn before that began to happen.

The mayor of Tianjin and the area commander for the Ministry of State Security were both awakened at 5:00 by upper-level police officials who were not entirely clear why they needed to rouse these powerful bureaucrats. What they did know was that there had been an incident at Tianjin Central Hospital #77 and a dragnet was being formed for the purpose of capturing some important escapees. Escapees? From a hospital? Something was already starting to stink, and the sooner they were able to drop it in someone else's lap, the better.

It was at this point that things started to get sticky. Chinese high officials, especially those in Tianjin are quite persuasive when it comes to cutting through fog. In this city, the desire to stay out of the clutches of the law is especially strong, for obvious reasons. Once the officials were fully awake and functioning, it did not take long for them to ascertain two things: First, there would soon be a fresh batch of available transplant donors; Second, the Americans had to be captured before they could leave the country or China would have a disaster on its hands the likes of which had not been seen since Tiananmen Square.

The Americans had a good head start. Their adversaries did not yet know even their ident.i.ties much less their avenue of escape, but the enormous military and police apparatus of one of the most powerful nations on Earth was about to be set to the task.

50.

For the six fleeing souls in the van, the ride southeast toward the port had been a series of heart rates spikes, every set of approaching headlights a possible police car. When a Ministry of State Security car suddenly turned in behind them as they pa.s.sed an intersection, Holly started to shake uncontrollably, her ordeal still fresh in her mind. The policeman had his automatic in his lap, the captain held the gun of the officer who had been guarding Holly's room, ten rounds in its magazine. It had been decided that if a police car attempted to detain them, they would kill the officers inside and continue on, since arrest meant certain death anyway.

The Ministry of State Security car remained behind them, the fugitives wondering if it was waiting for backup to arrive. They would not act as long as they were still moving toward their goal. When the car abruptly turned around and headed back west, the relief in the van was indescribable.

Even at 2:00 am, the port was brightly lit and swarming with activity. The port of Tianjin is the largest in northern China, covering 66 square miles. Wharves of all types line 19 miles of the coast, and enormous gantries load and unload container s.h.i.+ps around the clock. Skirting the security zones protecting critical areas of the port, the van slowly wound its way around boat repair yards, fish warehouses and storage buildings to an area where small and medium sized fis.h.i.+ng boats are berthed. There are more than one million fis.h.i.+ng boats of all sizes in China, and seeing row after row of them gave those sitting in the van a ray of hope that perhaps they could become lost among them.

Twenty minutes later the van came to a stop in a crumbling asphalt parking area. Before them was a well-worn timber pier perched upon ma.s.sive, weathered pilings. From one of the aging wooden boats docked there; a sailor beckoned. It was Zhou. Six frightened souls climbed out, three wis.h.i.+ng to leave China in all haste and three whose fear was mixed with nostalgia for a country they would never see again.

There seemed to be little activity on the nearby boats as the small band boarded the Dawn Flower, an 82 foot wooden boat with a two story superstructure resembling a small, rundown apartment building. Square windows lined uppermost perimeter of the wheelhouse and overlooked a large open hold in the bow. The boat had once been painted turquoise but sun and sea had scoured and peeled the paint, leaving the weathered old lady looking forlorn and neglected.

Zhou quickly ushered them aboard and through a doorway, where they could not be seen. Inside, several openings revealed tiny rooms for the crew, tawdry and littered with piles of clothing and soiled blankets. The stink of fuel and fish hung heavy in the air. Zhou mounted the narrow staircase to the upper level of the wheelhouse, beckoning them to follow, staying low. There they met his mother, father, brother and a tiny wrinkled woman, Zhou's grandmother, along with two youngsters. With a toothless smile, the old woman nodded her head in obvious welcome. There was only tension on the faces of the others, knowing that the moment the Americans came aboard, their fates became one.

Zhou peered out of the wheelhouse windows nervously. His father said something to him in Chinese, sounds that scarcely needed translation, conveying a message of urgency. Zhou answered sharply, as if to silence, while the fugitives sat quietly against a wall, well away from the windows.

They were waiting for Jun's taxi. He should have been here by now. Then Zhou saw a small boxy vehicle pull slowly into the lot, its side emblazoned with 'Harbor Police.' The officer inside shone his light out of the rolled down window. Its beam moved slowly from side to side, illuminating the bows of several of the moored boats before the officer turned the motor off and got out. He lit a cigarette and started walking. Zhou signaled silence with his hand, the Americans sitting on the floor in the wheelhouse, having no way of knowing what was happening outside, stayed absolutely still, fear creeping ice-like through their veins.

The officer walked along the wharf, pausing at each boat. Zhou watched him carefully from the window, wondering what he was up to. Then the officer approached the Dawn Flower, walking her entire length along the pier, examining her. Zhou could no longer see him, but knew that he must be near the stern now. But doing what? Finally, the officer emerged from the shadows and walked back into the parking area.

The sound of another approaching car could be heard nearby, wending its way between the sheds and warehouses. A minute later a pair of headlights appeared. It was Jun's taxi. By the time Jun noticed the 'Harbor Police' emblem on the side of the other vehicle, it was too late; he couldn't just turn around and drive away. He parked as nonchalantly as possible, eyes flickering nervously around trying to locate the occupant of the police vehicle. In the shadow of a nearby shed, the glow of a cigarette brightened as the officer took a fresh drag. He was watching Jun.

Jun got out and opened Ping's door, whispering to her to act natural. He took her hand, walking the frail lady across the gravel toward the boat, pretending not to notice the police officer. The gangplank had slats nailed crosswise at intervals to improve footing, but it was still difficult so Jun took her waist as well as her hand. As they neared the deck, a tiny wrinkled woman older than Ping appeared in a doorway. Zhou's grandmother greeted Ping exuberantly, as though they had been waiting months to reunite. In fact, they had never laid eyes on each other before.

Ping immediately picked up on the ruse and started chattering amiably. As the pair disappeared through the door into the crew area, they were cackling like old hens. Jun hollered 'good fis.h.i.+ng' as he walked down the gangplank and back to his cab. In the shadow of the shed, the glow brightened once more. Jun turned his cab around and headed back out the way he had come. There were now happy sounds emanating from the fis.h.i.+ng boat as Zhou and his family continued the contrived reunion. The harbor patrol officer stubbed his cigarette on the ground and walked back toward his vehicle. Those hiding in the Dawn Flower could hear its motor start and the gravel crunch beneath its wheels as it turned and left the parking area.

The crew scarcely waited until it was gone before casting off. From below, the engine rumbled to life and began slowly tugging the boat backward into the harbor. With its bow now pointing toward the sea, Zhou turned toward the Americans, a conspiratorial smile on his face. Looking at Holly, he said something in Chinese, which his brother translated.

"There's someone downstairs to see you."

Holly stared at him, a puzzled look on her face. She couldn't imagine who he was referring to, but she got up off the floor of the wheelhouse and started carefully down the steep, narrow stairway. When she reached the crew area, her heart jumped. There in the corner was the little cleaning lady. She practically leapt across the s.p.a.ce, throwing her arms around Ping, hugging her with all her might. There were tears in their eyes as they stood back looking at each other for a very long time.

Soon the old craft was chugging slowly toward the sea. It would take almost an hour to reach, so large is this harbor, but they were thankful just to be moving away from the city.

By 6:30 am, more than two dozen Ministry of State Security officials and city bureaucrats had been informed of the 'breakout' but still had only a smattering of details. A tall American male had penetrated the hospital. There were probably several thousand tall Americans in Tianjin on any given day, if not more. It was a bit like saying a short American woman had visited the mall. The Chinese bureaucracy had yet to tie captain Davis to anything. As he suspected, his different name and place of residence had rendered him invisible thus far.

Holly and Ray's real names had been stripped by the conspirators and replaced with fake ones to facilitate what was being done. Only three people in Hong Kong actually knew what their real names were, and they weren't exactly lining up to inform the authorities. In fact, the cruise company owner, who had already used some of his ill-gotten gains to buy a private boat, was at this moment motoring toward Viet Nam where his brother owned a restaurant.

The nurse on the seventh floor had provided a description of Holly to State Security, but that had led to questions as to why a guard had been stationed outside the American's room. The answers to her inquisitors' questions were slowly burying her. The guard himself knew little other than what he was being paid. Even that level of complicity was soon to earn him an hour under the scalpel. A similar fate awaited the guard who opened and closed Holly and Ray's locked rooms.

The authorities now had good descriptions of Ray and Holly and a barely pa.s.sable one of the captain, who had been in and out of the hospital rather quickly, but Tianjin is the sixth largest city in China and they couldn't exactly televise artist renderings. 'Two Americans resembling _____ wanted for _____ .' So the most wanted fugitives in China had yet to even be named.

Officers with descriptions were sent to train stations, but some early trains had already left, so other officers down the line would have to board and search them. Same for the airports and bus stations; but if they had already boarded a plane, they were by now long gone, a thought no one wanted to contemplate. Road blocks would be set up, but that would take more time; there are dozens of roads in and out of Tianjin. What if they had boarded one of the departing planes? What if they had fled first to Beijing, only a half-hour away? It was a nightmare.

One thing was certain: someone was helping the Americans. The list was short. The nightmare scenario was that their emba.s.sy had somehow learned what was going on. If they had reached the emba.s.sy they were untouchable; the Americans could use the threat of exposure to force Beijing to allow them to leave the country. The emba.s.sy in Beijing is watched and video taped around the clock and it was soon learned that no vehicles had entered since yesterday evening. It was also not entirely inconceivable that the tall American was CIA. If that were the case, their chance of success was fairly high.

The second possibility was that they were attempting to make their own way out of China. This seemed the least likely. Even a.s.suming they could make it all the way to a border, they would surely be stopped by border guards.

Finally, there were the dissidents. The questioning of the guards at the hospital had revealed nothing to indicate they were involved in any dissident activities; they were being paid to keep the Americans in and cared little where the money was coming from.

But one interesting thread had been discovered and was still open. The lady who cleaned their rooms was not in her apartment. She had not returned home from work.

51.

It wasn't exactly open ocean, but they had pa.s.sed through Bohai Bay and were well into the Bohai Sea. The area includes some of the most heavily congested sea lanes in the world where they hoped to be lost among the many tankers, freighters and other fis.h.i.+ng boats.

The ocean swells together with the stench of fish and diesel fuel were having a predictable effect on some of the pa.s.sengers. Holly, Ray, Dr. Min and the ambulance driver, all had their heads over the rail. Ping and Jian, the police officer, were on the opposite side of the deck, sitting as far as they could get from those who were losing it over the side. On the bridge with Zhou, Captain Davis was looking over charts of the area.

According to the charts, they still had almost two hundred miles to open ocean and another three hundred plus to the coast of South Korea. At eight to ten knots max, less than 10 miles an hour, it would be almost a full day before they were completely clear of the Chinese mainland and another day and a half to the South Korean coastline.

Even if they succeeded in reaching South Korea, they couldn't exactly expect open arms. In December, a Chinese fis.h.i.+ng boat captain had stabbed two South Korean Coast Guard officers, killing one. Fish stocks were seriously depleted along China's coast and Chinese fishermen had been forced to encroach on the protected waters of other nations. Incidents were on the rise and China was stubbornly defending its fisheries industry, another example of its aggressive new stance.

Zhou had been watching the captain as he looked at the charts. Having learned something about his background from the doctor, he was finding the man who had commanded one of the most powerful wars.h.i.+ps in the world quite fascinating. He only wished he had more English so they could communicate.

Zhou had another problem. If he continued across the Yellow Sea without any pretense of fis.h.i.+ng, it was likely at some point to be noticed. Attention was the last thing he needed, but fis.h.i.+ng would slow them down dramatically. He found himself wondering what was happening back in Tianjin. Had there been a bulletin on TV? Had the harbor policeman seen it? Had the authorities discovered a connection to his friends, the other dissidents? If any of these things had happened, it would take minutes for a military helicopter to reach them from land or a couple of hours by fast patrol craft. He told himself there was little point in worrying, they were now committed to a course that would take them either to freedom or death.

Holly was feeling well enough to stand up straight, more or less. There was nothing left to throw up. She walked unsteadily through the door in the superstructure to see if she could find something to drink. A crewman brought her some bottled water. He smiled and she said thanks in English, embarra.s.sed at knowing no Chinese. She walked unsteadily out the door and over to the starboard side to where Ping and the policeman were and sat down beside them. For an instant, she struggled with rising panic at the sight of the officer's uniform until she reminded herself that this officer had risked his life to save hers.

She smiled weakly at Ping; it was all she could muster on a churning stomach. She wanted terribly to get to know the woman who had saved her and Ray's lives, but for now all they could do was look into each other's eyes. A little while later the doctor rose, apparently feeling better. Holding her bottled water up, she pointed inside. Soon he had emerged with his own and came to join them. At last she had a translator. But where to begin?

Holly decided simply to ask Ping to talk about her life. At first the tiny lady seemed reluctant, or perhaps she too didn't know where to begin. But after thinking about it for several minutes she looked up at Holly.

"It was a village then," she said. "It had been there longer than anyone could remember. Even my grandmother's grandmother lived there. The houses were small, none more than two rooms, some had only one. The bricks for the houses and the tiles for the roofs were baked in a kiln that had been there longer than anyone could remember. Even the bricks for the narrow streets came from the ancient kiln."

"During the time of my great-grandmother and before, China was weak and the foreigners forced us to grant them concessions so that they might trade. Russians, British, Germans, French, Italians, j.a.panese, Americans and others came to trade. Each country had its own area and they built their homes and churches there. Goods from all over China were brought to the port and loaded on s.h.i.+ps. My great grandmother said that in those days beautiful tall s.h.i.+ps filled the harbor as far as the eye could see. Sometimes they had to remain at anchor for days before a pier was available."

"Around the docks, the trading companies and warehouses swarmed with workers loading and unloading thousands of crates bursting with goods and treasures from all over the world. My grandfather worked in one of the great trading houses. My grandmother said that he would come home with amazing tales of the things he had seen. Sometimes he brought special treats, delicacies that no one had ever tasted before."

"Some of the people from the village worked for the foreigners in their magnificent homes. They were so large that it took a dozen or more people just to keep them up. When I was very small, I heard many stories of the foreigners and their houses."

"It was said the French had mirrors on every wall and the most elaborate furniture you could imagine, so much so that some in the village didn't believe it when they heard the stories. A few even claimed that their furniture was covered with gold, others swore it was only paint. The French ladies wore strange objects that looked like bird cages on their rears under their dresses. My grandmother said some thought it was because they had no behinds. We children laughed and laughed at the thought of people with no behinds."

"The Russians were enormous compared to us and we were afraid of them for that reason, that and their enormous beards and scowling eyes. Children ran away whenever they saw a Russian. The only thing that seemed to soften them was their music. They had an amazing invention called a Victrola that made music come out of a box. Sometimes, for reasons no one understood, they would play music on the Victrola and suddenly squat down and kick their feet out, looking as though they might fall over at any moment. My grandmother said it was hilarious, but of course we Chinese couldn't laugh out loud, it would have been considered rude and they would have dismissed us, or worse."

"The British were stiff and aloof. They thought themselves superior and looked down upon us. For that and the fact that they brought the opium, which poisoned thousands, many disliked them. But they had a powerful navy when we had none so they could force us to do what they wanted. Everyone had to earn money, so we swallowed our pride and looked the other way, even when the British were abominable."

"The Italians seemed always to be waving their arms and gesturing. They were loud too, like the Russians, but not in the same way. It was as if their hearts were on the outside and they were always trying to keep them from escaping. They seemed to eat all the time and some of their women were very fat."

"Everyone hated the j.a.panese. They looked like us but thought they were better. In 1937 they attacked us because they wanted what we had. One morning we looked up when planes appeared in the sky. Tiny objects were falling from them. At first some just watched as they grew larger. Then we realized what they were. We had no defense; entire families were blown to pieces, many were buried when buildings fell on them."

"Their army was unspeakably cruel; they raped and murdered thousands. They would just leave the bodies in the street for us to pick up. My friend's father didn't come home one night and for many days his family waited for him, but they never saw him again. Later we learned that he had been shot by a j.a.panese officer, but no one knew why. They could do that then, just shoot you dead in the street and walk away."

"At first, they left the foreigners alone in their fine houses, but in 1941 when they attacked the Americans, everything changed, even for the other foreigners. When the j.a.panese were finally defeated, we were all so happy. Many j.a.panese soldiers who were trapped when the Americans destroyed their navy were murdered by the Chinese they had brutalized. We celebrated, even though we knew it was not right to do so."

"My grandmother said of all the foreigners, the Americans were the most kind. Everyone wanted to work for them. We never heard of any Chinese being beaten by them. If you did something wrong, they wouldn't yell at you; they would just tell you how to do it better. But then the war started and the j.a.panese put them all in camps. Many died there. When we heard that some we knew had died, we were very sad."

"When the war was finally over, things got better for awhile because there was work rebuilding what had been destroyed. It was not happy work, though, because there were still so many bodies buried in the rubble. Sometimes the workers would fine someone they knew. It was very sad."

"When Mao took over, most of the building was done and there were no more foreigners to work for. The Communists controlled everything; it was supposed to be better that way, but the people were hungry. The Communists couldn't even grow food. Can you imagine? They wouldn't allow you to have your own garden; everything had to be decided by a committee and the committees couldn't tie their own shoes. We would have laughed if we hadn't been crying."

"We thought it couldn't possibly be worse, but then it was. They told us we had to get rid of 'the old ways' but the new ways didn't work. Anyone who was a teacher or was educated was sent to re-educations camps. Most never returned. The people were left in the hands of the Red Guards, ignorant thugs who were just as cruel as the j.a.panese. They brainwashed our children and turned them against us. Can you imagine that, children denouncing their mothers and fathers? It was worse than even the war; at least during the war we had our families. We couldn't believe that our own people were doing this to us."

"Then in 1979, I think, the American president came to China. The Red Guard had taught us to hate the Americans. Now they were coming here. It was all so confusing! After that, things started to change. First they told us we could have our own gardens. Anyone who had two feet of dirt planted something. Even if it was very small, it was our own. Some even pried up paving stones to have a place to plant. You had to be careful not to trip over all the little gardens. Before we knew it, we could buy and sell things like the capitalists we were taught to hate. It seemed very puzzling at first."

"Then the tourists began to come. I will always remember the first time I saw one. He was an American, very tall, with reddish hair and wearing cowboy boots. I wondered if he was a cowboy back home. Soon there were so many tourists that they had to build better hotels. The foreigners didn't want to stay in the old ones. For the first time almost since we could remember, we had good jobs again. We could go to work and on the way home buy fresh meat with what we had earned. Then those who had raised the animals had money too. No one had ever experienced that before and we thought we were in heaven."

"My husband worked in a factory that made small tractors that you walked behind. Some people put wheels on little carts for the tractors to pull so they could sit instead of walk. Our village pooled their money and bought one of the little tractors. The government told us we could use a small field next to the village for a bigger garden. We even had enough to sell."

"I had a job in one of the new hotels. Every day I rode a bus there and cleaned the rooms. In the evenings I helped tend the garden. The days were long but life was good. Everyone in the village had enough to eat and we were happier than we could remember."

Ping paused and a shadow descended over her face. When she began to speak again, her words came haltingly.

"We had a son. His name was Huang. He was studying engineering at the Poly Tech in Tianjin. We were very proud. It was his third year and he was doing very well. One more year and he would have a job that paid several times what my husband and I earned. Then perhaps he would find a wife and we would have grandchildren to love too."

"One evening a car stopped on the side of the road where our garden was. Several of us were weeding and we stopped and looked up. Three men got out and walked into the village speaking quietly to one another like we weren't even there. When we asked what they were doing, they just said they were checking something, but they wouldn't tell us what it was. It was very rude, you know, to just walk into our village without saying anything to anyone. We would never do such a thing."

"When Huang got back we told him about the men. He had a strange look on his face but said nothing. Two months later, they came back. This time there was an official from the city with them. He told us the city was going to buy our land for development and he left some papers with us. Our son took the papers to the university and spoke with someone there."

"One evening, about a week later, Huang brought a friend to see us. He told us that technically the government can take any land it needs because all the land belongs to the government anyway. He said that the law states that we must be compensated fairly, but the price they were offering was very low, a fraction of what it should be. This is how we learned that developers often make deals with officials by paying them under the table, that this sort of corruption is very common now."

"He said there was only one thing we could do: appeal to the munic.i.p.al council, but not to be too hopeful. Huang and several others from the village went to the city to make an appeal, but when they returned they told us the officials seemed very evasive. So when we received their decision, we were not surprised to learn that our pet.i.tion was denied. We didn't know what to do; they told us we would have to leave the village and move into government apartments. They said we would be much happier there but by this time we didn't believe anything they said."

"We didn't know it at the time, but Huang had friends at the university who knew how the developers were cheating many villages, especially in the countryside. There was so much profit to be made that they could afford to pay the officials big bribes, more than they would make in a year. Huang's friends sometimes went to these villages to help organize the people so they would resist. He and two others from our village went back to the city to demand that we at least be paid a fair price, but the officials became angry and told them to leave or they would call the police."

"The next Sunday we had a meeting; everyone in the village was there. Huang and the two who had gone to the city to protest said that the only rights we have are those for which we are willing to fight. They said that if we don't make our stand here, there will always be some developer looking to make a profit at our expense. Because our families have lived in the village for generations, we were in the right and should refuse to leave."

"We were frightened, afraid that the police would come, but the others said our ancestors would revile us for giving away what they had spent their lives building. So in this way the village was convinced to stay together and fight. Because Huang was the most educated, he was chosen to be our leader. It was agreed that we would all put our names on a piece of paper and demand that we be allowed to stay. This we did and it was delivered to the city."

"Two weeks later, a police car came. They brought us a paper that said we must leave within seven days. We were afraid. Huang believed that when they came to move us, if we all stayed together and refused to go they would have to give in. But when they came they brought many police. Somehow they knew who our leader was, and they arrested Huang. My husband and I got down on our knees and begged them not to take him." Tears were streaming down her cheeks and she had to pause. Finally she spoke again. "But the police said it was our own fault. They put him in the back of a police van and drove away. That was the last time saw our son."

"For two weeks we went to every police station in the city, asking for Huang. Each time it was the same; they told us he was not there and they didn't know where we could find him. Then our supervisors fired us from our jobs. We knew the police had told them to do it. They were already moving people out of our village, a block at a time until we were the only ones left. We had no money then and almost nothing to eat. They had started tearing the houses down at one end of the village. We knew we had to leave."

"It was very hard to find work after that; if the police tell a supervisor not to hire you, then they won't. We tried everywhere. Finally my husband went to work in a rock quarry, but he was too old to lift heavy rocks. At night he was so tired he could scarcely even eat and he would fall asleep after only a mouth full or two. In his sleep he talked about Huang, and I cried when I heard him."

"Then I found a job at the hospital; it was there that I learned what happened to Huang. Another lady who cleaned rooms and I were sharing our twenty minute lunch break. We had been getting to know each other and she was telling me about her children. Then she asked if I had any. I kept a picture of Huang with me always, and I took it out to show her. Instead of smiling, she looked horrified. I asked her what was wrong, but she just handed the picture back to me and said she didn't want to talk about it."

Dr. Min suddenly stopped translating what Ping was saying. Holly looked up at him and saw that there was great anguish on his face. He put his hand to his lips as if to beg to be forgiven for not being able to continue. Ping seemed unsurprised by this, as though she had expected it, but then she too began to mirror his anguish. They were both silent for several minutes until finally the doctor cleared his throat and Ping, as if sensing his willingness, began to speak again: "Two days later when I got home from work, I learned my husband had died at the quarry. I wanted to go to the roof of the hospital and throw myself off, but we were not allowed on any but the lower floors. I cursed fate for not even allowing me to die. One of Huang's friends from the university heard about my husband and came to comfort me. I stayed with his family for several days. They were so kind to me. On the third night, after supper, it was obvious there was something they wished to say."

"My son, I learned, belonged to a group of dissidents at the University. The members of the group came from all over, professors, workers, scientists, even the government and police. Their goal was to expose the corruption, theft and even murder that they had discovered through their jobs. One of them was a computer expert who understood how to share what they had found with others using the internet. He could, with some difficulty, even communicate with those outside of China."

"Of course, it was very dangerous. Many dissidents from all over the country had been arrested and imprisoned. The government employed people whose sole job it was to find and arrest them. When my friends had shared this with me, they asked if I would be willing to help. I was very surprised since I couldn't imagine what someone old like me could possibly do to help."

"They looked at each other for a moment before beginning to speak. Then they told me what was happening on the upper floors of the hospital, that it was no longer just convicted criminals they brought there, that some people came to buy life while others unwillingly gave it. I was shocked. I didn't believe such a thing could be possible! My mind was churning with confusion when a most terrible thought rose up inside me. They could see that my eyes asked a question that my lips could not. They rose from their chairs and came to me as one, surrounding me with their arms. As the tears fell onto my cheeks, I saw that they too wept. In that moment, for the sake of Huang, I became a spy."

Ping looked over at Holly, the corners of her mouth turning up into the tinniest of smiles, and said: "And saving you, pretty lady, has made it all worthwhile."

A shout startled them as one of the crewmen rushed out of the wheelhouse and yelled to everyone to get inside. He told them to stay below the railings where they could not be seen. The small group of fugitives crawled or crab-walked their way to the wheelhouse door, disappearing inside. Captain Davis, coming down the narrow steps from the bridge, met them.

"Chinese patrol boat," he said as a crewman hurried them toward a pa.s.sageway that led below decks.

The Type 218 Chinese Coast Guard Cutter had been easy to spot from a distance, its white hull glinting in the morning sun. With twin heavy machine guns and a top speed of more than 29 mph, it was more than enough to intimidate any fisherman, but with so many fis.h.i.+ng boats at sea, Zhou thought it likely that it would continue on its way.

That was when he could still see the full silhouette of its port side. Now, with only the bow visible, the possibility of an encounter became very real. The Americans would fit in a s.p.a.ce concealed between the fish hold and the engine room. It had been skillfully constructed and would not be easily discovered. But there was scarcely room for three shoulder to shoulder.

The Chinese pa.s.sengers had been given spare fisherman clothing to wear and their own clothes had been sunk with weights. There were still two 9mm automatic pistols and magazines. However no one even briefly entertained the idea of taking on the Coast Guard boat, which had a crew of 23, not to mention the machine guns.

With the Americans well concealed, his Chinese pa.s.sengers were his primary concern. They had been instructed to pretend to be sleeping in the crew quarters except for Ping, who could pa.s.s for a member of the family. But in spite of their fishermen's clothing, they did not look like fishermen. For one thing, aside from Ping, their hands were almost devoid of calluses. And if they were awakened and spoken to, they would most a.s.suredly not talk like fishermen. Zhou told himself that while it was possible their papers could be checked, it was unlikely they would be searched. There was no reason unless the alarm had been sounded. If the authorities suspected that those they were seeking had fled by sea, the officers on the patrol boat would demand to see everyone's papers and his day would end badly.

The Dawn Flower continued on as if heading towards its fis.h.i.+ng grounds while the Coast Guard cutter maintained a heading that would soon intersect with it. Zhou could see that the cutter was now only a half mile away which clearly meant that it intended to interact in some way with his boat. This was confirmed minutes later when he was hailed and ordered to heave to.

The stench of diesel fuel and dead fish which had earlier made them so ill was even more p.r.o.nounced in the cramped and airless s.p.a.ce where the Americans now waited. That and fresh memories of their last sea born horror had both Holly and Ray struggling to remain calm. When the coast guard boat came alongside, causing the Dawn Flower to lurch sideways, Holly almost cried out. Then she felt the rea.s.suring hand of her grandfather on hers which gently reminded her that she must somehow keep it together.