On Fire
Copyright 2016 Thomas Anderson
On Fire
Far as we aim our signs to reach,
Far as we often make them reach,
Across the soul-from-soul abyss,
There is an aeon-limit set
Beyond which they are doomed to miss.
Robert Frost, A Missive Missile
Chapter 1
Dai Gu sits on a metal bench, his back up against the steel wall of the transport, wondering if there is any way out of his current predicament. He is being taken to the prison in Dongguan, near Guangzhou on the mainland and away from the jail in the territory of Hong Kong. This is because of the length of his sentence, which is for far too long to remain in the more local facility. It is also to get him out of Hong Kong, where Triad figures tend to have too much influence in the local jails. He is a minor Triad member but Chung Yao, his dragonhead, rules one of the largest of the Hong Kong Triads, and his influence is everywhere in the territories.
Yao’s virtual army has found a way to tap into the local security network and intercept emails from within the courts, communicating to what facility Dai Gu is to be sent. More importantly, the emails indicate when he is to be transported. That and a little research on the firm contracted to carry out such tasks for the government, has yielded everything that is important to know about exactly where the transport can be expected to be at every moment on its planned journey. This Yao knows how to exploit.
He has enlisted Zhao Yiwei, who now stands near the edge of a bridge north of Shenzhen, to take the next step. The bridge crosses the Mawei Reservoir not far from the Pearl River delta. Zhao has several men stationed along the road to report when they see the transport. He also has been tracking the vehicle itself on a small monitor. They were able to virtually tag and follow the vehicle from its initial departure about 2 hours ago in Hong Kong.
Gu is shackled to the floor, restricting his movement. He chats aimlessly with two other prisoners, similarly shackled, and with the sole guard who has been stationed in the back of the transport with the prisoners. The guard can communicate with the driver and his shotgun companion at any time by simply hitting his lapel mike, or in the alternative that it somehow fails, by pulling a tethered hard wired phone off the wall near his seat. But there is little need to consider either as the trip has gone without incident and the conversation is agreeable. For the prisoners, this is as much excitement as they have seen in months and they are, for the most part, jovial, excited in anticipation of reaching their destination. They discuss the additional privileges they will soon enjoy at the prison and how much better their lives will be. Why shouldn’t they be excited?
It is hot, mid-summer, and the middle of the day with the sub-tropical sun full up, and Zhao can feel the sweat dripping down the back of his neck. His men signal the approach of the transport, which is moving at highway speed amid generally light traffic. It arrives at the bridge and is still a hundred yards or so away when Zhao activates a latent strip, springing hollow spikes up and into the vehicle’s passing tires.
The vehicle travels another couple hundred feet, slowing while its tires lose some of their compression, and the traffic around in every direction comes quickly to a halt. But the vehicle has some kind of additional tire protection, the tires do not fully deflate, and it keeps moving toward them. It has skidded sideways when Zhao looks directly at another man who is with him and standing nearby. The other man holds a rocket propelled grenade launcher, and he fires. The transport launches skyward on a ball of flame and descends onto its side. Zhao, with two of his men to his back, rapidly closes the distance to the back door. He pulls on it and it refuses to budge, so he places a charge on the handle. He steps back quickly, yanking on a man who has approached too close, and they both drop low onto the pavement as the rear door blows. While it flies open, it somehow remains on its hinges.
Zhao looks into the smoky interior. He can barely make out that there are three still figures on the lower side near him, and one figure hanging awkwardly from what is now the top side of the vehicle. He shouts Gu’s name and there follows a low moan. Zhao stifles a guffaw. That Gu may have somehow remained alive while the others did not is a circumstance very much in keeping with Gu’s reputation for indestructibility. Now if he can only get him out of the vehicle somehow, he can deliver him to Chung Yao and be done with this business. One of Zhao’s men steps up with a bolt cutter in his hand, and Zhao motions for him to rescue the hanging, slightly swaying figure. Dai Gu may have just expended one more of his nine lives, but all indications are that he will yet live to fight another day.
Chapter 2