The floor was uncomfortable. She noticed distantly. As uncomfortable as the handcuffs. It didn't matter.
Bai Rong's eyes scanned the wall.
One… two… three…
She counted to seventeen.
Again.
Seventeen pieces of Li Yuze's head were left on the wall. Some brain. Some bone. Some she didn't know. The rest had succumbed to gravity in small grotesque piles lying in coagulated blood.
One… two… three…
The count began again.
‘How many times have I counted? Ten? Twenty? A hundred?’ she thought under the constant murmur of numbers running through her mind. ‘Does it matter?’
Seventeen.
She began again.
One… two… three…
She was going to kill Wen Mao.
—---
Nie Mingjue watched his brother walk toward the elevators. A-Sang seemed lighter. His step less of a furious march. His shoulders looser.
Good.
He glanced down at Yu Qing. She looked tired. He imagined they all did.
He stifled a yawn.
“What happens now?” she asked calmly.
“We take the, hmm, asset to a location we won't be disturbed and ask them to cooperate.” he replied flatly. The slight emphasis on ‘ask’ spoke volumes. “I am hoping you know of such a location in the hospital.”
She nodded.
“Sub-basement. There are rooms that are used for storage that have plenty of space. How will you move them?”
“One of the big laundry bins. We used them to move our three guests to their new accommodations.” He laughed lightly. “I think it should work if the asset is properly motivated to comply.”
Yu Qing arched an eyebrow.
He smiled and smoothed his mustache.
“There are a lot of ways to get compliance without violence, Doctor.”
She nodded. “I trust you know what you are doing. I will get the bin. You get the asset. “
He smiled. “We'll be ready.”
She turned and briskly walked away.
“That is a helluva woman.” he muttered to himself thoughtfully.
He turned and walked the rest of the way to the room.
—--
There was noise. Muffled singing. It was interrupting her sleep.
“Shut up, Fengmian.” she said sleepily annoyed.
“Not Fengmian!”
The voice was cheerful.
She whirled in her bed then moaned in pain. Her fingers twitched in agony as her ribs flared. Panting, she stared at Wei Ying brushing his teeth with determined efficiency.
He looked at his reflection in the small stainless steel mirror.
“My hair is a disaster…” he grumbled as he finger combed it.
He looked down at Madame Yu.
“Slept horribly I hope?” he grinned at her.
“Fuck off.” She managed to get out between gasps.
YOU ARE READING
Red Light
Fiction généraleLan Wangji, a detective with the Beijing Police Force, interviews a possible witness of a murder. Only willing to give his working name, Yiling, the man had denied any knowledge despite eyes full of horror and tears. What happens when the detective...
