Page 276 of Never
The cop hit Hakim’s head again, to further cheers.
At last Hakim went limp, and they pulled him out of the water, threw him into the well of the dinghy, and handcuffed him. His left arm looked broken and his head was bleeding.
Abdul went back inside. A brutal man had suffered a brutal beating. It was rough justice.
The prisoners were driven away and crime-scene tape was fixed all around the yacht. More polythene sacks were brought up from below decks – depriving ISGS of millions of dollars, Abdul thought with profound satisfaction. The heavily armed police drifted away and were replaced by detectives and what looked like forensic specialists.
‘We can go,’ Abdul said to Kiah.
They paid for their hot chocolate and returned to the car. As they were driving away Kiah said: ‘You knew that was going to happen, didn’t you?’
‘Yes.’
‘Were there drugs in those plastic bags?’
‘Yes. Cocaine.’
‘Is that why you were on the bus with us, all the way from Lake Chad? Because of that cocaine?’
‘It’s more complicated than that.’
‘Are you going to explain it to me?’
‘Yes. I can now, because it’s over. There’s a lot to tell. Some of it is still secret, but I can share most of it with you. Maybe tonight, after Naji’s gone to sleep. We’ll have plenty of time. And I can answer all your questions.’
‘Good.’
It was getting dark. They drove back to Nice and parked outside their building. Abdul loved the place. There was a bakery on the ground floor, and the smell of new bread and pastries reminded him of his childhood home in Beirut.
Abdul carried Naji up to the apartment. It was small but cosy, with two bedrooms and a living room as well as a kitchen and a bathroom. Kiah had never lived in a place with more than one room, and she thought she was in paradise.
Naji was sleepy, perhaps because of the fresh sea air. Abdul fed him scrambled eggs followed by a banana. Kiah bathed him, put on a clean nappy and his pyjamas. Abdul read him a story about a koala bear called Joey, but Naji was asleep before he got to the end.
Kiah began preparing their supper, sprinkling sesame seeds and sumac on cubes of lamb. They nearly always ate traditional Arab food. They could buy all the ingredients in Nice, usually from Lebanese or Algerian shopkeepers. Abdul sat admiring her grace as she moved about the kitchen.
‘Don’t you want to watch the news?’ she said.
‘No,’ said Abdul contentedly. ‘I don’t want to watch the news.’
***
Qincheng was for political prisoners, who got better treatment than common criminals. The losers in a political conflict were often jailed on trumped-up charges; it was an occupational hazard for members of the Chinese elite. Kai’s cell was only five yards by four but it had a desk and a TV set and a shower.
He was allowed to wear his own clothes, but they had taken away his phone. He felt naked without it. He could not remember the last time he had been without a phone for longer than it took to shower.
Today’s coup in Beijing had caught him by surprise, but he now saw that he should have at least thought of the possibility. He had been focussed on persuading President Chen not to start a war, and he had not imagined that the hawks might deprive Chen of the power to choose.
A conspiracy against the president should have been uncovered by the Homeland Security half of the Guoanbu but, of course, the head of that department, Vice-Minister Li Jiankang, had been in on the plot, and his superior, Security Minister Fu Chuyu, had been one of the ringleaders. With the military and the secret service behind the coup, it could not fail.
The greatest shock had been his father’s betrayal. Of course he had heard Jianjun say that the Communist revolution was more important than anything else, including family ties; but people said that sort of thing without really thinking about it. Or so Kai had always thought. But his father had meant it.
Sitting at the desk, watching the news on the small TV screen, Kai felt how strange it was to be helpless. The fate of China and the world was now out of his hands. With Kong Zhao also in jail there was no one left to restrain the military men. They would probably carry out Jianjun’s scheme of a limited nuclear attack. They might bring about the destruction of China. He just had to wait and see.
He only wished he could wait with Ting. He would never forgive his father for separating them for what might well be their last days of life. He was desperate to talk to her. He looked at his watch. It was an hour to midnight.
The watch gave him an idea.
He banged on the door to attract attention. A couple of minutes later a muscular young prison officer called Liang came in. He took no precautions: the guards had obviously decided Kai was no threat to them, which was true. ‘Something wrong?’ the man said.
