The Trail to Buddha's Mirror (37 page)

“We were together perhaps one week,” she said, “before Robert had to go home. He was very sad to say good-bye, and I promised I would write.”

“Did you?”

“Yes, I promised! He wrote back, or sometimes telephoned. Then … I was contacted by a Triad leader. He had a message from Father. Father said that Robert’s knowledge would be very valuable to China.”

“I’ll bet.”

“He asked me to ‘nurture’ my relationship with Robert and persuade him to come to China.”

A goofy symmetry occurred to Neal: Li Lan’s father summoned her to talk Pendleton into going to China; Neal’s “Dad” got him to persuade Pendleton to go home.

“At first I refused. I wanted nothing more to do with politics. My life was so happy. I sent a message back begging Father to release me from this request.”

I did a little begging myself. Did you do any better at it than I did? And what card did your father play?

“Then Father sent back the message that persuaded me. My sister was alive.”

The ace of hearts.

“Sister was alive, but in prison. Robert was to be the price of her release.”

Family is fate.

“I could not then refuse. It was my duty, and the fulfillment of the vision Kuan Yin had shown me in the Buddha’s Mirror. I could not realize my true self until I confronted the face of my sister. I could not be released until she was free.

“Through Chinese agents in Hong Kong, I received more training. Training was easy for me because of my Buddhist discipline. I continued to write Robert. Then he wrote saying that he was coming to California. Would I meet him there? I told Father this news. He urged me to go. ‘Now is the time,’ he said.

“I had met Olivia Kendall in Hong Kong some time before. She liked my painting and had invited me to have a showing at her gallery. I wrote to her and accepted. I met Robert at his conference.”

“And everything was working out just fine until Mark Chin showed up.”

“We went to Olivia’s. And then you came.”

“So now they have Pendleton, and you have your sister back, and you can both go back to being Daddy’s good little girls.”

“Hong will be released when Robert begins his work here. Robert is in hiding, and we will only bring him out when it is safe.”

“When will that be?”

“When you leave.”

Ouch.

He traced the bones in her fingers and was surprised when she did the same on his other hand. “Let’s be grown-ups here for a minute,” he said. “You and I and all your buddies know that—once I’m home—there’s nothing to stop me from telling everything I know.”

She gripped his hand. “They would kill me.”

That would stop me.

“They’re bluffing.”

“‘Bluffing’?”

“Making an empty threat.”

She squeezed tighter. “I am a hostage to your honor.”

Boy, are you in trouble.

“Wouldn’t it be safer just to have me killed?”

“Yes.”

“Is that why you came to tell me your story? So I would understand? Sympathize?”

“Yes.”

He swallowed hard before asking the next question. “So you made love to me to improve the odds, is that it?”

She whispered the answer in his ear. “No. I made love with you because I wanted to make love with you.”

So there it was. The deal was pretty clear. Her life for his, his life for hers. Talk about symmetry. Talk about Buddha’s Mirror.

“I have to ask you something,” he said. “Is Pendleton a volunteer? Does he want to be here, or is he a prisoner?”

“Does this make a difference?”

“It makes all the difference. You have to understand that if Pendleton wants to go home, I have to help him. I can’t stay silent. So if that’s the case, let’s find a way to get all three of us out of here.”

“Robert is very happy. He has his work. He has me.”

Then Robert is very happy.

“That brings up another ugly question. Just what
is
Robert’s work?”

She looked at him oddly, an I-thought-you-knew-this-already look. “To make things grow.”

“And he’s worth all this? Just because he can make things grow?”

“You have not seen hunger.”

This is true, Neal thought. I always thought I had it tough after midnight when the Burger Joint stopped delivering and I had to walk down there.

“But you must have plenty of agricultural experts here.”

“No. So many were killed! And none with Robert’s knowledge.”

So Pendleton gets to spend the rest of his life growing rice and loving Li Lan. Okay. But what about Li Lan?

“What about you?” he asked.

“What about me?”

“Do you love him?”

“He is good. He is kind. He will do wonderful things for my country.”

“Right. Do you love him?”

She rolled over on top of him, stroking his face as she spoke. “You and I, Neal Carey, we are from different worlds. Your ‘love’ is not our ‘love.’”

“I love you.”

“I know.”

In a lifetime of questions it was the hardest one.

“Do you love me back?”

She looked him in the eyes, and it was heartbreak and grace at the same time. “Yes.”

“You’re breaking my heart.”

“I know this, too.”

“How can you send me away?”

“To save our lives.”

“I’ll risk it.”

“To save our souls.”

He saw himself in her eyes. Buddha’s Mirror.

“It is still dark out,” she said.

“Yeah.”

“We have some time.”

He shrugged.

She slid down and took him in her mouth. He tried to focus on his anger and hurt, but soon he turned her around and then he was drinking from her. Then he entered her and they laid side by side.

“Tell me,” he said.

“I love you.”

“Say it in Chinese.”

“Wo ai ni,
Neal.”

“Wo ai ni,
Lan.”

Their world erupted into the clouds and the rain before they fell asleep. He woke up a while later and listened to her breathing.

Li Lan’s life for my silence, he thought. The Book of Joe Graham, Chapter Eight, Verse Five: Every undercover operation ends in a betrayal. I wonder if Graham expected this one to end in me betraying him and Friends.

It was still dark when he woke her up.

“It’s no good,” he said.

“What is no good?” she mumbled sleepily.

“I have to hear it from him.”

“You are having a dream. Go back to sleep.”

I wish I could, Li. I wish I could put my conscience to sleep, make love with you once more before dawn, and then sleepwalk my way through the rest of this deal. But it is no good. I have to hear from Pendleton that he wants to stay. I was sent to save him from his infatuation, and that’s what I still have to do.

“I have to talk with Pendleton myself.”

“Not possible.”

“He has to tell me himself that he wants to give the rest of his life to this little 4-H project you have cooked up for him.”

She reached between his legs and stroked him. “Do not be so silly.”

He grabbed her wrist and held it still. “Take me to him. Let me talk to him alone for five minutes. If he still wants to stay, okay. I’ll go home and keep my mouth shut. Word of honor.”

He could feel the muscles in her wrist tighten against his hand.

“What if he says he wants to leave?” she asked.

“Will he?”

“No.”

“Then why bring it up?”

She snatched her wrist away and sat up. “What if?”

He looked at the sudden anger in her eyes. It looked odd against her sleepy face and tousled hair.

“Then I have to try to take him home,” Neal answered.

“You do not trust me,” she said.

“Don’t take it personally. I don’t trust anyone.”

He watched as her angry glare turned thoughtful. Then the look became seductive. She was an actress changing emotions for the camera.

“Go home tomorrow,” she said. “I will visit you once a year. For a week in San Francisco. Every year until you are tired of me.”

We’re right back in the hot tub, he thought. Nothing’s changed, including the sorry fact that I want to say yes.

“That’s sick and desperate,” he said.

She jumped out of the bed and grabbed her clothes, throwing them on as she spoke.

“You are the person who is sick and desperate,” she said. “You chase, chase, chase—then, when you are given what you chase, you do not accept. Answers … truth … me. I make this offer to make you happy … to make
me
happy. Never mind. You have no choice. You do not know where Robert is, where I go. You cannot chase anymore.”

“Lan, I—”

“Go home! That is all! If you say what you know, I will die! Do what you want!”

She stormed out the door.

It took him a few seconds to get his shirt and pants on and follow her. It was still dark and foggy and he could just see her as she passed through the gate into the garden. He ran down the stairs and across the little bridge. When he got through the gate she was gone.

All he could see was fog and the eerie shapes of the garden statues: dragons, birds, and giant frogs. He could hear footsteps ahead of him and he followed the sound. The garden was a maze.

When in doubt, Neal thought, go to Buddha. The gigantic head was about the only thing he could make out in the fog. It glowed palely at the edge of the cliff. He ran for it.

Her black-clad form appeared in stark silhouette against the whiteness of the Buddha’s head, about twenty feet away. She was inching her way along, trying to feel for the railing that led down the stairs.

Neal realized that she was heading down to the river. She had a boat waiting. He couldn’t let her meet it. He broke into a sprint.

The bullet hit Buddha square in the ear. Li Lan dropped to the ground.

“Shit.”

Neal heard the voice. It was about fifty feet away, in a copse of trees to his right. He peered through the fog but couldn’t see anyone. He lay on his stomach, wishing his breathing didn’t make so much goddamn noise. Li Lan hadn’t gotten up, so she was either hurt or just being smart. Staying flat on his stomach, he crawled to where he had seen her fall.

His hand touched her elbow and she flinched. He grabbed her arm and pulled himself against her.

He heard cautious footsteps. The shooter was maneuvering for a better angle. If he was smart, he’d work his way back onto the path and come straight onto the landing. She heard it, too.

“Are you hurt?” he asked her. It was just the slightest whisper, but it sounded like a PA announcement to him.

She shook her head.

The footsteps stopped.

“You have a boat down there,” he said.

She nodded.

“You can back down the stairs without being seen.”

“There is not the time. He will shoot me on the stairs.”

“I’ll take care of it.”

The footsteps started again, slow and patient.

“Get going,” he said.

“Why would you do this?”

Good fucking question.

“Because you’re going to take me to Pendleton.”

If I live that long.

And you might as well tell the truth as long as you’re probably going to get killed anyway.

“And because I love you. Now crawl backwards onto the stairs. When you’re down to the next landing, get up and make all the noise you can going down. Got that?”

“Yes.”

“Where can I meet you?”

She didn’t answer. The footsteps had stopped. The bastard was in position and just waiting for the right moment. As soon as his quarry flinched, he’d move in for the kill.

“Look,” Neal whispered. “I know where your mountain is. I know it from your paintings. I can track you down, and I won’t give up. It will never stop until you let me speak with Pendleton. Never. Now tell me where I can meet you, and get your ass in gear before we both get killed.”

She squeezed his hand. “At the elephant.”

“Where?”

“You can find it. I will be there.”

“Get going.”

“I am very frightened.”

“I’m scared to fucking death. Now go.”

She squeezed his hand again and started to crawl backward, feeling for the edge of the stairs with her feet.

Neal could just hear her make contact with the wooden steps. Now what? he thought. The opposition has a gun, and you’re armed only with your fine sense of irony. Of course, he’s missed once already. Maybe he’s a lousy shot.

Then he heard the sound of footsteps running down the stairs to the river. She was making a real show of it, and that was just what he needed, because then he heard the shooter running along the path straight toward him.

The fucker doesn’t know anyone’s here, Neal realized with relief. He’s running straight, hard, and fast toward the stairs, where he’ll have her pinned against the river. He’ll have all the shots he wants.

Neal gathered his knees underneath him.

Simms burst out of the fog, holding the pistol, barrel up, in his right hand, running hard. He was almost on top of Neal.

Neal lowered his head and sprang. The top of his head smacked Simms on the bottom of the chin.

Neal figured it worked better when you had a football helmet on, and his head spun with pain as he fell. But Simms was out, and this gave Neal a few seconds to recover. He found the pistol just a few feet from Simms’s hand and picked it up.

Do it, Neal thought. You can pop him right now and toss him into the river. The currents will take care of the rest. Do it. He raised the pistol and lined the sights up on Simms’s forehead. Then he waited for Simms to come to. It didn’t take long. Simms sat up groggily and put his hand to his chin. He looked at the blood on his palm and shook his head.

“That’s twice you’ve missed an easy shot,” Neal said.

“Carey! It took you long enough to fuck her.”

“It’s not too late for me to shoot you.”

“You won’t. You’re not the type. If you were going to use it, you’d have done it when I had my eyes closed. In fact, give me back the gun before you hurt yourself. I think I need some stitches.”

“Put your hands up where I can see them.”

Simms didn’t move. “Did you hear that line on television? It won’t do you any good, Carey. As soon as the cobwebs clear, I can take you, pistol and all.”