The Interior (Red Princess 2)

“David?” she whispered. “Where are we?”

“In the Assembly Building,” he answered.

She closed her eyes against the terrible noise. Yes, she was in the assembly room. She opened her eyes again, rolled onto her side, and pushed herself into a sitting position. Her face t

urned the color of pale green marble.

“You’re sick, Hulan,” David said. “I think it’s blood poisoning. We’ve got to get you to a hospital.”

“Help me up,” she said. When he hesitated, she ordered him gruffly. “Get me up! We don’t have much time, do we?”

David did as she asked. Once in a standing position, she wavered, reached out for the corner of the flocking machine, and steadied herself. She reached for her weapon, but of course she didn’t have it. The two men stood before her, staring at her worriedly. Lo wasn’t with them, and she assumed the worst.

This was a police matter now. They needed to follow her lead, but she was in no condition to do much of anything. She stood perfectly still, pale and frail compared to the woman who’d been so righteous in the Tsais’ courtyard only an hour ago. As far as she knew, there was only one way out of here—the corridor, and she concluded that that was the way they’d gotten in this building. The only reason David and Henry would have brought her here was if they’d had no other choice, which meant that people were after them.

“Excuse me, but you’re not allowed in here,” a woman’s voice said loudly in Mandarin. They turned and saw Madame Leung, the party secretary. “This room is not for foreigners or visitors. And,” she added, her tone severe, “no men allowed!”

“Madame Leung, it is I, Liu Hulan. And this is Henry Knight.”

The party secretary seemed not to understand. This woman, obviously sick but dressed in her fine silk suit, was no one she knew. As far as the old man? Yes, it was him, but he never came in here during working hours.

“We’re in trouble,” Hulan continued rapidly. “You must help us.”

“This is no place for visitors!”

A shot rang out. Even with the racket of the machines the sound was loud, sharp, and distinctive. Madame Leung turned and saw Doug with the weapon in his hand, Amy Gao at his side. He lifted his weapon again and aimed for the little cluster of people. Before he could pull the trigger, his targets scattered. He fired anyway. Women screamed. Some instinctively fell to the floor. Others made as if to run, but he and Amy blocked the door. There was no place to go.

Hulan peeked around the flocking machine and saw David and Henry about ten feet from her, behind the engine for the main assembly line. Their heads were down by the exhaust, the fan blowing David’s hair away from his forehead. Then Hulan took in as much of the room as she safely could. No one had been shot as far as she could see. There was no movement except for Party Secretary Leung, who slowly crept on all fours under some machinery against a nearby wall. Hulan turned back to Doug. He was saying something to Amy and motioning to the wall not far from Madame Leung. Amy strode forward purposely, unafraid. Why should she be afraid? She held a gun and she had backup. Madame Leung fell flat as Amy passed the machine she was under, but the woman with the gun didn’t notice. Amy got to the wall, reached up, and pulled down several levers. One after another the machines ground to a halt. The room fell silent.

“Come out, Dad,” Doug called across the cavernous room. “You’re in no danger.”

“What’s happening?” a girl yelled in Mandarin.

Doug waved his gun toward the sound of the voice. Again, silence. Hulan edged around the machine. She saw Siang and Peanut huddled together.

Doug reached down, grabbed a girl of about twelve, and held the gun to her head. “Dad, I’m asking you to come out and talk to me or this girl dies.”

Henry started to stand. David grabbed a handful of Henry’s shirt to keep him down, but the older man jerked the fabric out of David’s grasp and stepped out from behind the conveyor’s engine. Doug tossed the girl aside. She fell, then quickly scrambled for cover.

“Did you always know, Dad? Is that why you wanted to sell?”

“No, son, I didn’t know it was you until I saw all of your papers together. And during this last hour I’ve been trying to understand, but I can’t.”

“Then why sell?”

Henry closed his eyes as if in pain. When he opened them again, his eyes were hard. “Are you going to let these people go?”

“Why sell?” Doug demanded.

“I thought you’d get a better price while I was still alive, and together we could deal with the tax consequences.”

This, of course, was what Pearl Jenner had written in her coverage of the sale, and it had been the accepted reason bandied about on Wall Street, but Doug didn’t believe it. “You didn’t want me to have the company,” he stated matter-of-factly.

“If that’s what you want to believe—”

“Admit it!” Doug aimed the pistol.

Henry raised his hands in supplication. “I’ll admit it if you’ll let these people go.”