The Lighthouse in the Sky: A Goosefare Chronicles Story (The Goosefare Chronicles Book 1) by B.Y. Yan

Author:B.Y. Yan [Yan, B.Y.]
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Published: 2020-09-19T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Six: A Chinese Odyssey Over Land, Sea and Air (Part 1)

When Rain looked up from his stretcher, the first thing he did was to blink the sun’s glare out of his eyes. The sky stretched as blue as the ocean, glowing like sapphire through the rear window of the car he was in. He had been laid out over the back seat, and the only direction he could look in, given his condition, was up.

​The view was an agreeable one, even in captivity. It was soothing and calm, but he did not get long to enjoy it. A face appeared looming over his, blocking out the sun. The visage of cold professionalism looked down upon him with a scowl, the expression drawn as long as a horse’s snout. Small eyes glittered at him from behind silver rimmed spectacles as Rain nodded towards the man.

“Mr. Huang.”

The man did not reply. They were old enemies by now. If Captain Cross had an arch-nemesis in China, Huang P’iao was it.

He would also not be goaded. Instead, the spy continued to stare, his eyes as bland as light reflecting off a dead puddle. The look was incomprehensible, but Rain got the feeling Mr. Poker-face knew more than he was letting on. A grim, uneasy silence surrounded both men as the car mounted a pothole, and Rain jumped involuntarily in his stretcher.

There was no reasoning with such a creature. Duty was everything to him. What Huang was, he was a tool, and a blunt instrument; but he was also a tool who understood his uses and did his job exceptionally well.

Rain averted his eyes from the Bureau agent. He looked up at the window, at the sliver of open sky showing in it and sighed. There was no way to tell where they were going; and his only consolation was that, at long last, he was probably going to meet the mysterious Tai Li in whose side he had been such a thorn for the past year and a half.

Rain closed his eyes. He had only the use of his right hand at present, and he used it to feel out his surroundings. He rubbed the fabric of his stretcher with his fingers, smelled the leather of the seats. He listened intently to the roar of the engine as the car rounded a street corner and continued on its way.

Then, abruptly, there was a sharp squeal of the wheels, and the vehicle came to a sudden, dead stop.

Horns blared outside.

Rain did not open his eyes. What was there to see besides the headrests of the seats up front? Instead, he took a deep breath, perked up his ears and listened.

Hurried voices speaking up in Chinese from the front seat.

Car doors opening, slamming shut again.

Rain lay back, troubled at what he heard. The faint sound of an argument drifted in through the closed windows, growing more heated with every passing moment.

It was punctuated by the crack of a gunshot!

Then, another.

Rain started.

A final discharge of a pistol before—

—nothing.

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