The Dragon and the Needle (19 page)

The plane arrived on time and Eleanor was soon standing in the airport’s reception hall beside the information desk. As other passengers streamed past her, she searched in vain for someone to recognise her. Would it be Chen? Or Ah-Ming? Her concern turned to irritation that grew by the minute. She should have thought that they might play games with her.

‘Welcome to France!’ a voice spoke in her ear.

She turned round. Thank God! It was not Chen or Ah-Ming. But the man was Chinese, thin, tall, with exquisite manners.

He spoke English, bowing slightly forward from his hips, as he did so. ‘Forgive my unpunctuality, Dr Johnson, it is inexcusable of me.’

Eleanor was clearly very angry and said, ‘Well, I didn’t really expect to be kept waiting …’

He cut in very quickly, concerned at her remark. ‘I’m deeply sorry,’ he began. ‘If it’s discovered that I was late in meeting you,’ he paused, ‘it will be bad for me. The traffic in the airport car park was blocking everything.’

She suddenly felt sorry for him. She sensed his fear. ‘Forget it,’ she said.

He took her bag and they left the hall for the car park. On the way she noticed two French soldiers staring at them: dressed in khaki and red berets, they stood out from the hustle and bustle of people and cars. As Eleanor reached the car, she glanced quickly over her shoulder towards the soldiers. They were still looking in her direction.

Then her eye caught the summit of Mont Canigou and she paused for a moment, looking over the roof of the car at the noble magnificence of the mountain. It was covered by early snow. Her eyes followed the line of the Pyrenees, then suddenly to the north-west she glimpsed the ruin of the Cathar castle of Queribus, built on a summit over 700 years ago. She remembered visiting the castle with Chen. Her Chinese companion was standing by the open car door; as she thought of Chen, she looked at him. Did he know of Chen? Should she ask him?

The man stood silently, smiling graciously at her – an enigmatic smile. He said, ‘Yes, Doctor, it’s very beautiful, isn’t it?’

His remark made her thoughts return to the present. ‘Yes,’ she agreed, deciding against asking him questions about Chen or Malinya. ‘Perhaps we should be going?’

The man drove fast, by-passing Perpignan. The roads had improved a lot since she had last been in the area. Within a short time they reached the lower slopes of the mountains. It was early afternoon, the light was good, so he was able to maintain speed even when the roads turned into twisty, narrow lanes.

Eleanor leant back into her seat, suddenly realising that soon they would arrive at the Centre of Oriental Medicine. She told herself that all would be well: Mike would be near, somewhere near, she was sure. That thought gave her strength to pray, to ask help in getting away from all this, to get back safely to her work in London. Above all, to confirm if her fears of Carry Tiger were true. What would she be able
to report when it was all over? Again, a sense of apprehension gripped her mind, an apprehension that grew as she saw the Centre appear briefly in a gap between the olive and pine trees. She stared ahead, sitting forward on her seat. Would she remember the buildings? Patrick had said they had changed. She wondered why? They had been more than adequate not that long ago. And if what Ah-Ming had told her was true!

The driver began to slow down. No words had passed between them since Perpignan, though he glanced at her from time to time in his rear-view mirror. He was doing just that at this moment, and she turned quickly away from his gaze, to see a long drive appear in front, winding its way downwards, off the narrow road they travelled.

They were in front of the Centre now; the photographs she had seen did not do it justice. The views were magnificent. The sun shone on the mountainsides, throwing deep shadows of relief in all directions; the light and shadows constantly shifted with the wind, sending out waves of coloured brightness, which were in turn reflected on the lake.

The car stopped. The driver quickly appeared to open her door. She stepped out, now looking at the building itself. From where she stood, it looked like any modern hotel, not like a centre of medicine. But once inside, the difference was immediately apparent. She followed the driver into the main hall. Everywhere, quiet efficiency reigned. Above all was the feeling of peace. It pervaded the hall, and the many wide corridors leading from its centre; no one was in a hurry, yet there was an atmosphere of competence, of energy and clinical cleanliness.

As Eleanor continued to observe the signs of medical professionalism – staff looking as confident as any hospital in the world – she heard her driver speaking Chinese to a receptionist. She understood every word. It was an innocent enough remark, asking her to look after Eleanor’s bag. Then he was saying to Eleanor in English, ‘Doctor, please follow
me. You’ll be shown your room later. First, I will take you to meet the secretary of the Centre.’

She looked uneasy. ‘The secretary?’ she repeated tentatively. ‘Who exactly is that?’

He smiled and said, ‘She is a very nice lady from the Kyung Hee University in Seoul, Korea. She will give you all the necessary information.’ He bowed towards her. ‘Please follow me, Doctor.’

She passed many doors, some marked as consulting rooms, others lecture halls. She was thinking of meeting a woman from Korea. Would she tell her about Chen? Then she began to worry about meeting Ah-Ming. Supposing he had arrived before her?

The trip through the corridors took at least five minutes. On most of the walls were charts of acupuncture, the concepts of Yin and Yang, the Laws of the Five Elements. Then they passed through fire safety doors into yet another corridor. Turning a corner, she noticed the absence of people. There was no one to be seen. Her driver stopped in front of a door, knocked on it and entered, just ahead of Eleanor. He bowed to the only occupant of the large room and then quietly went out, closing the door.

Eleanor had already recognised the Chinese woman who stood facing her, smiling slightly. How could she ever forget her? Doctor Han! She was walking towards her. She held out her hands to Eleanor.

‘Welcome, Dr Johnson. It’s been a long time, hasn’t it?’

For a moment, they stood facing each other, Eleanor thinking how little she had changed. The lovely soft jet-black hair, the high cheek bones, almost more Tartar than Chinese. Without her help, Eleanor would never have obtained the visa necessary for a long stay in China.

‘It has indeed been a long time. But what have you been doing in the Kyung Hee University?’

‘How did you know that?’

The directness of the question, and the tone of voice, put
Eleanor on guard. If her driver had spoken out of turn, she had no wish to get him into trouble. Yet to lie was impossible.

‘I heard it from someone on the way here.’ And to change the subject quickly, added, ‘The last time we met was in Beijing. You seemed set on staying there.’

Dr Han seemed satisfied with that, for she smiled and said, ‘It’s all a long story and there’s not time for that now. Let’s sit down.’ They went across to a sofa. ‘Because of my excellent English, it was thought that I would be of more use in the Westernised parts of the Orient.’ They sat down, side by side, as Dr Han continued. ‘Not only did I work in Seoul, but also in Japan at the Association of Modern Kanpo Medicine and later with the Chinese Acupuncture Society in Taiwan.’

‘I see. What were you doing?’

The formal back-and-forth of questions underlined a tension between them. If Chen was here, she must know. Would either of them mention him at this stage? Eleanor was too tense to do that, perhaps …

‘I was running the Doctor of Acupuncture courses. You know, the usual things. Three years of the Batchelor course is followed by two for the Doctorate. I specialised in the study of the exact location of all acupuncture points.’ She paused, and then said, ‘And the extra points.’

Eleanor looked at her sharply. ‘I see,’ she said. ‘That must be very interesting. When exactly did we last meet?’

‘Don’t you remember? We went to see Jian Quin’s revolutionary opera. Can you recall the name?’

Eleanor had not enjoyed the experience, and yet how could she have possibly forgotten the name? Was this a test?

Eleanor hesitated, gave the answer quickly, ‘“Taking Tiger Mountain by Strategy”,’ then sat back into the sofa as they continued to search each other’s eyes.

‘That’s right, you remembered. And now you yourself seem to have a great reputation, Doctor, in America and London. You are a credit to Oriental medicine.’

‘Thank you.’ Eleanor was still very wary, anxious not to dig too deep yet. Better to concentrate on mundane matters until … She had always liked Dr Han. It was strange that Ah-Ming had not mentioned her. Eleanor gazed at the doctor for a few seconds before saying, ‘But why are you here now?’ then smiled, adding, ‘It’s a long way from China, from Beijing, isn’t it?’

The woman smiled in agreement. ‘I feel very much at home here. Just down the road is Tautavel. Man has lived in the Beijing area for over 500,000 years, and at Tautavel, man has lived for over 450,000.’

‘That must make you feel comfortable. Are you running only degree courses here?’

Planting that acorn led to a prolonged silence. Was this the moment to put the question about Chen outright? Eleanor was determined not to show any apprehension, but she was finding it difficult to conceal thoughts that were rushing in and out of her mind.

Suddenly, without warning, Dr Han, speaking sympathetically and reaching out a hand to touch Eleanor’s shoulder gently, said, ‘Look, my dear, I know what it must be like for you, but you will soon find that everything will fit into place for you.’ As Dr Han spoke, Eleanor saw, out of the corner of her eye, a movement from the other side of the room. She looked back at Dr Han, who was now looking over Eleanor’s shoulder.

The voice was close behind her and she knew at once that it was Chen. ‘Hello, Eleanor, it’s been a long time. Don’t turn around for a moment.’ It was Chen’s voice. How long had it been? So many years, and days and months! Ah-Ming had told the truth!

She felt Chen’s hand on her shoulder. It sent shivers down her spine. She found her shoulders rising as though in protest … she could not turn around … Dr Han took both her hands in hers. Eleanor wanted to cry out, to scream, to run,
but somehow, from deep down inside her, she knew she would lose if that happened. She must and would hold firm.

A few minutes earlier Mike had arrived at the ancient fortress town of Mont Louis, the highest mountain fort in France, designed and built by Vauban in 1679 and even now still used by the French Army. It was the centre of training for the elite ‘Choc’ troops, paratroopers and commandos. Time and time again in their history, these troops had shown an almost superhuman quality of endurance.

It was only a matter of a day or so since he had seen Eleanor. A helicopter had brought him direct from Gatwick airport, and only a short while ago he had flown over Malinya, through the gap in the mountains which led to Mont Louis. He saw the Medical Centre clearly from above. He looked down anxiously, knowing that by now she would have arrived. On the intercom of the helicopter, the pilot spoke to him. ‘Below there, Doctor. That’s Malinya.’

Mike pushed from his mind the anxiety, knowing the best and only way to help her now lay with the military. But for a moment he hated himself and everyone concerned in London, for involving Eleanor in this dangerous situation. Was her husband really alive and down there? It was all Mike could do to stop himself telling the pilot to go down there now! But that idea was ridiculous.

‘How long to Mont Louis?’ he asked the pilot.

‘A few minutes now, Doctor.’

The white-topped Pyrenees came into view stretched out dead ahead, a beautiful sight, but he had no time to admire views. Colonel Prevot, the commanding officer of the garrison, was standing near the ’copter pad as Mike landed. He was a tall, quiet man, looking unlike the type accustomed to the life of a paratrooper. But London had praised the officer highly. He saluted Mike and they both quickly walked towards
the nerve centre of the garrison: a large operations room specially arranged for the mission. The latest information given to Mike by the Colonel on the way was worrying: they were receiving the signals from Eleanor, but a paratrooper planted inside the Medical Centre, posing as a cleaner, had not as yet reported back to Mont Louis.

As they entered the operations room, Mike saw immediately that the French were totally in control, visual control especially, of the Medical Centre of Malinya. Scattered around the room were television screens, in front of which were the operators, faces glued to the sets. The Colonel began a long discussion with another officer about how best to move quickly when the moment came for action. Mike was grateful for the help given to him by an interpreter, but as he listened, he began to feel how helpless he would be at such a critical time.

As he thought about Eleanor’s safety, he reflected on the immediate past since leaving Sussex University. For now he was in the south of France, amongst people trained to kill; and there was the violence and the killing of the mystery deaths, resulting in Dorman’s murder. Mike felt, even more than before, that he was being finally pushed into this savage world! Then he thought of Eleanor, so close and yet so far from him. If only her theories were proved right! As long as she came out of it all safely. He began to wish that Dorman had not suspected a link with Oriental medicine and ENDS – yet, but for that, he would not have met Eleanor.

Then the Colonel was passing an envelope to the interpreter to give to Mike. ‘For you, Doctor,’ the man told Mike, ‘it gives instructions. He wants you to read it.’

Mike read the instructions quickly. They were written in English. He smiled at the Colonel and said, ‘This makes me feel better, makes me feel part of it all. Now I’ll read it again in detail.’ The Colonel smiled back at Mike. Then Mike read it through again.

The instructions set out, in the clearest terms, how the
operation to rescue Eleanor, should that be necessary, would be carried through to a successful conclusion. The military side seemed to make good sense, though Mike was no judge of that. If surprise was a key element, it looked as though it would be achieved. But it was the last paragraph that made Mike happy: very happy indeed. The paragraph ran: