ADAM HALL - Quiller Bamboo

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Summoned late at night to the Bureau, Quiller attends a secret conference with the foreign secretary and a surprise defector: the Chinese ambassador to Britain. Minutes later, shots ring out and the ambassador's body is flung out onto the sidewalk of a deserted London street, riddled with bullets.
Searching for clues, Quiller flies to Calcutta to meet Sojourner, a key ally in the plan to bring democracy to China. But Sojourner is killed…thus two men, both dedicated to bringing freedom to their country, are dead. No wonder Quiller is skeptical about his next mission: smuggle a Chinese dissident into Tibet.
"Tense, intelligent, harsh, surprising." (The New York Times)

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'I'm proceeding according to plan.' It was all he needed:

I'd told Chong to take him a copy of the map and it showed the caves. 'We should be there in an hour.'

'No precise location at this point.'

'No. I'll send that.' I watched the two sets of headlights in the mirror. The distant vehicle had pulled up on the one immediately behind me. 'There's a temple on fire southeast of the town and the emergency crews — and I assume the police and military — are already on the scene. There are several dead. One of them might be Chong.'

In a moment: ' Noted.'

'He did very well. The subject appears physically normal except for stress and extreme fatigue.'

'You have insulin?'

'Yes. But please note: I estimate that we shall be exposed for another half hour on a public highway, and the Koichi artifact is not in place, repeat not in place.'

Hesitation, then, ' Half an hour.'

'Estimated.'

I gave him tune to think. I'd located and secured the subject but the chances of getting him under cover were shockingly thin, with his face undisguised and a major search operation by the military still in progress. There was also an added risk: if any of them had got out of that temple alive they would have tried to follow this truck. One of those people had still managed to pull off a couple of shots after the first bomb had gone in, or it could even have been the two of them, each with a gun. Trotter had been running a first-class cell with highly trained personnel and if he'd been killed in the Buddha room, any surviving hit man would know what he'd got to do. If Trotter couldn't fly Xingyu into Beijing himself, he'd want him dead.

'Obviously you have no alternative.'

Pepperidge. No alternative but to try getting Xingyu to a cave in the hills through a military dragnet.

'No. It's the least risk.'

'So be it. Anything more?'

'Nothing more.'

'What's your condition?'

'Fully active.'

That wasn't inaccurate. If I didn't get some sleep before too long I was going to drop in my tracks and the drug they'd put in my tea had left the motor nerves a degree sluggish and my reflexes were less fast than I was used to and the head wound was still throbbing, but if anything critically active started I'd be all right because the adrenaline would make up the difference: once the survival mechanism is triggered and you're functioning in the zone, the body chemistry shifts into a different equation and the strength-of-ten-men syndrome kicks in.

'You could probably use some support.'

'It's not feasible. The only chance we've got is to keep a strictly low profile.'

Things had changed, in the mirror: the vehicle immediately behind had peeled off, and I saw the red star on the side. The other one was closing on us; I would have said it was a Beijing jeep by the short distance between the headlamps. There was now a bit of traffic starting to come the other way, and I kicked the dip switch.

'If you felt you needed support, would you ask for it?'

'Yes.'

He'd got my thinking straight on that point before: the man slumped behind me in the cab was potentially the most powerful figure in the Asian hemisphere and if I thought that even one support agent could help me protect him then I would say so.

'If the situation changes ,' Pepperidge said, 'I can send in a whole cadre.'

He was worried, thought I was digging my heels in; no director in the field's all that happy when the executive's walking a tightrope with the subject of the mission in his arms.

'Noted.'

We were going to have to find a hole, Xingyu and I, find a hole in the night and stay there, sleep there, hibernate until the dawn, and any kind of support would attract attention, flush us out.

'I'll signal Control. Remain in contact.'

'Will do.'

I switched to receive-only and put the radio on the seat. It'd cheer them up a bit at the board in London, Executive has located and secured the subject , so forth.

A truck came past from ahead of us and in the glare of its lights I saw the red star again and a huddle of soldiers swaying in the back. I checked on Xingyu before the light had gone; he was sitting more upright now, staring through the windshield, and he squeezed his eyes shut and jerked backward against the seat as the shot smashed through the rear window and into the windshield and it snowed out and I hit a hole in it and got the truck straight again.

'Keep down.'

Shot hit a tyre and it blew and the truck lurched and I got it back and bits of snowed glass flew inward as Xingyu started hitting at it, shouted at him again, keep down , headlights coming the other way and the glare blinding, wiping everything out, and I felt the truck lurch again and then the tire came off and we were on the rim, took my foot off the throttle, lights again, there was a whole line of stuff coming past, keep down I told him, right in the line of fire for Christ's sake.

The twin lights of the jeep behind us were jazzing around in the mirror and I tilted it and tried to see where the road was, there was no border, it just ran into a waste of flat land with boulders standing black on one side, silvered on the other by the lights, a whole string of them, this was an army convoy, red stars glowing on the sides, shot and the mirror went, the force of the bullet throwing it forward until it caught the windrush and blew back into the cab, Christ's sake keep down I told Xingyu.

The Dongfeng lurched again and a truck coming past us the other way had to swerve but it wasn't enough and we clipped his fender and the driver leaned on the horn, the Doppler effect bringing it down to a moan in the night as I dragged at the wheel and went for the flat land and kicked the headlights full on and watched out for the boulders and then things began happening behind us, lights sweeping in an arc across the terrain and then another shot but it was wild, and I suppose one of the army trucks had made a U-turn to come back and overhaul the jeep and ask them what they were popping off a gun for, either that or it was the truck I'd hit, coming back to talk about the damage, you don't, you do not hit an official vehicle of the People's Liberation Army without being asked some questions, it was no go, it was no bloody go in this thing and I chose a boulder and got to the other side of it and used the brakes and slewed the Dongfeng at an angle and hit Xingyu's seat-belt buckle, ' Out, we're getting out.'

I hooked the radio into my coat and got his flight bag and the provisions from the back and found him wandering in the moonlight, a cold wind cutting across the scree, ' Come on ,' threw an arm around his shoulders, ' Come on, quicker than that, ' huddled against the wind, the two of us, leaning on it, tripping on stones, the lights on the road very active and men shouting but no more shots, I suppose it was all he'd been able to do, keep on firing even though he knew they'd ask questions, keep on firing in the hope of a killing shot, and he'd come close, hit that bloody mirror a foot from Xingyu's spine.

'I must go to Beijing.'

His voice thin against the wind.

'What? ' Out of his mind. 'Of course, yes, Beijing.'

Sweat running on me because we'd left the Dongfeng less than a hundred yards from the road and if they started sweeping their lights across the scree they'd see it and we hadn't got far enough yet, not far enough along the road to Beijing, dear God, what was he talking about, what had they done to him in that temple , lurching along together like a couple of drunks and not fast enough, not nearly fast enough, I could see the dark rim of the foothills against the stars but it looked like five miles, could be more, and I didn't know if he could make it on his feet or if I'd have to carry him, get him far enough before the need for sleep knocked me over, the rim of the hills dipping as I watched it, rising and dipping, the air coming into the lungs like knives and stone loose underfoot.

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