Search for the Buried Bomber

CHAPTER 50





The Film Canister



The three of us looked at one another, unsure what to make of our discovery. I sat down and forced myself to think things over. Now that we understood what the iron case was, a number of clues began to fit together. We knew how it all started: the only reason the Japanese established this base and transported the bomber down here was the void. How they'd discovered the place, we didn't know. Perhaps while prospecting for oil or coal deposits they'd simply happened upon it. The original motive was unimportant. For in any case, upon finding the abyss, they'd obviously become consumed with the desire to know what was hidden in the outer-space-like darkness beneath this mountain.

They then used the Shinzan bomber to explore the abyss. Naturally, they would never have relied on the naked eye for the results of this survey, so aerial recording equipment must have been affixed to the Shinzan. For some reason the base was suddenly abandoned after the plane took off. Lacking guided navigation, the Shinzan crashed into the underground river. Buffer bags stuffed with Chinese corpses had been sunk along the watery runway, so the plane was not completely destroyed. While others might have sustained injuries, there was only a single fatality—the twisted corpse of the pilot we discovered in the wreckage.

We had discovered the film canister on the body of a corpse encased in ice, so were those frozen corpses the missing members of the flight team? They survived the crash and grabbed the film, but then why had they frozen to death in the icehouse? Had they discovered something that made them, instead of leaving, go to the lowest level of the dam and pile warheads all around the radar device? And then there'd been an accident and they'd gotten stuck there? The arrangement of the radar and the warheads really did look like Wang Sichuan had said, like a lure and a trap, but why do all this? Was it because of something they'd seen in the abyss? Or rather, had they believed that, because of the Shinzan, something was actually being drawn back from the abyss?

The next part was simple: After the members of the flight team had been dead and frozen for twenty or so years, the first prospecting team discovered this void. We didn't know what happened to the first team. Supposing their ruin had been the work of an enemy agent, this person must have come from Japan, known everything that was down here, and that the Chinese had discovered this place. This person then infiltrated the first team, killed some of its members, and sabotaged the mission.

Based on the marks we'd found, the spy was searching for something, most likely the film canister. The spy was unaware that the canister had actually been frozen beneath the ice, so, when we arrived a month later, "he" still hadn't found it. To buy himself some time, he'd dropped us down to the icehouse, hoping we'd freeze to death. What he didn't realize was that someone from the first team had survived long enough to use the automatic transmitter, causing Old Tang and the rest to discover a structural plan of the base and thereby locate the icehouse. Later this person tried to bury me alive and locked us in the electrical canal.

"If this really is the case," said Wang Sichuan, "then whatever the spy's really after, he's pretty damn clever. He's had us in the palm of his hand this whole time. But since the person missing from the first prospecting team is a woman, why did you think your attacker was a man?"

I bit my lower lip in thought. "There are two possibilities," I said. "The first is that I was mistaken. The second is that the woman from the first team was actually a man in disguise. The Japanese aren't that big, so it isn't impossible. Actually there's one more. He could have been mixed in with our team when we came in." I remembered the two notes I'd been given.

"How about you?" I asked Wang Sichuan. "Who do you think it is?"

He shook his head. All of the engineering corpsmen were new faces. Honestly, it could be anyone. "If I had to guess," he said, "then it would either be Chen Luohu or Pei Qing. Those two are the most suspicious. But I'd say it's Pei Qing."

Wang Sichuan was biased in this respect, but by now I had some doubts about Pei Qing as well. Still, I didn't want to say them aloud.

For a moment we were silent. Then Ma Zaihai asked, "So what do we do now? The enemy is unknown and we're still out in the open."

"I've never done counterespionage work before," I said, "but since we three were all trapped together, it's obvious that each of us is innocent. If we keep circling around the issue like this—with the enemy hidden and attacking us at every step—we're dead meat. Since we already know he's after the film, we'd better grab it first and get out of here. Once we're back on the surface, we can let our superiors decide the next step." This suggestion was not only in our own best interest, but in the best interest of the military and even the nation as well. We agreed at once.

"But if it really is as we suspect," said Wang Sichuan, "then with so few people left in the warehouse, that son of a bitch has probably already got the film."

"That's possible," I said, "but we have to get back and see." Besides, it was certain that Old Tang and the others were also trying to find their way back there. We had a duty to leave them a message regarding our whereabouts and what we'd learned about the spy. Otherwise they'd probably keep looking for us, sending out teams in all directions. Any deaths that resulted would fall on our shoulders. It made the most sense for one of us to stay behind and wait for Old Tang while the other two grabbed the film and headed for the surface. Who would stay and who would go was a delicate question. For the time being, I decided not to raise it.

The warehouse was our first stop. We had to get there before the spy. For two full hours we passed through the core region of the dam—the workers' dormitory, cafeteria, and armory, as well as countless control rooms, small-scale workrooms, and bathrooms— winding our way around innumerable corners until, at last, we came upon a staircase. It was an emergency stairwell, extremely narrow and cramped, probably used for evacuation when the caissons weren't working. After walking up twenty levels, we could hear the sound of wind. We walked another ten and pushed open a thin iron door. We were back atop the dam.

A strong wind rushed into my nose and mouth. The solitary searchlight was still there, the nothingness beyond quiet and profound. After all we'd experienced, it felt strange to see it again. On the other side, the river had already dropped to its lowest point. Everything that had been submerged beneath the floodwater was revealed. We saw a pile of corpse bags the size of a small hill, the giant Shinzan broken between them. The trail it had cut as it crashed down was distinctly visible. Many structures had emerged and a number of lights could be seen shining in the dark. In powering up the searchlight, Ma Zaihai had probably switched these on as well. The river had not dried up completely. Although the water level was extremely low, I could still hear the sound of the current. The dam's sluice gates were shut, and water retention had begun. Soon it would rise once more.

Ma Zaihai pointed toward a section of the darkness. "The filtration gate is over there. That's where I left our raft. I tied it real tight, so it should still be there."

"If we can take that raft to the surface, then consider your wish of becoming a deputy squad leader granted," I said. And what if the raft is gone? I said to myself. Then we'll just wade right out of here, even if it means courting death.

There wasn't much time to think about it. We discussed for a moment how best to reach the warehouse. We decided we should find a ladder and climb down the outer wall. Just as we were about to set out, Ma Zaihai suddenly hissed, "Look over there!"

He hurried over to the river side of the dam. "What is it?" I asked.

"Someone's there!"

I looked where he was pointing. A flashlight beam was moving swiftly through the darkness. Someone was hurrying across the plank-and-wire walkway.

"Who is it?" asked Wang Sichuan.

Ma Zaihai looked out anxiously. "I don't know, but he's heading for the raft."

"Shit!" We all knew this was bad. One flashlight. One person all on his own. Was it the spy? Had he gotten what he wanted and was he now preparing to make a stealthy exit? There was no time to assess the situation. We had to catch him, regardless of whether he was a friend or an enemy. Before I could say anything, Ma Zaihai and Wang Sichuan had already rushed off and begun climbing down a riverside ladder.

This side of the dam had neither a strong wind nor a bottomless abyss. We flew down the rungs. At the bottom of the dam, the walkway extended in all directions. We couldn't see where he'd gone. Just as we were hesitating, sharp-eyed Wang Sichuan saw a flashlight beam up ahead, about fifteen hundred feet away.

"After him!" I cried, but he pulled me back.

"We have no weapons. If it is the spy and he's carrying an automatic rifle, then, head to head, we're no match for him."

"So what do we do?" I hurriedly asked.

"We have to take him out in one blow." Wang Sichuan was very calm as he spoke. "Listen, this isn't a joke. Our adversary is a spy, a cold-blooded killer. You're a technical specialist, and Little Ma is an engineering corpsman. Neither of you have real battle experience. This is no time to be rash."

I was enraged. "What battle have you been in?"

"I may have never been to war, but by five I was riding horses with my dad. By fifteen, my friends and I were heading into the mountains to hunt wolves. When we Mongolians were kids, our games were all life-and-death. You're just not going to be as strong as us." He paused to look out at the flashlight beam, then continued: "This is a hunt, and our sole advantage is that it's three of us against one of him. We'll have to divide the responsibilities: one person will divert his attention, one will knock his rifle away, and the last will subdue him. Old Wu, being the smallest, will distract him, I'll take care of knocking his gun away, and then, in that instant, you, Little Ma, will make a surprise attack."

"But you don't have a gun," I said. "How are you going to knock his away?"

Wang Sichuan looked around for something to throw, but there was nothing atop the walkway. He reached into the water and hauled up a thighbone from within one of the submerged gunnysacks. "The Mongolian grasslands are just as empty as here," he said, "but so long as one's skills are great, anything can become a weapon."

Seeing his stance as he hefted the thighbone, I knew he was preparing to throw the bulu. "Why not just smack him across the head with it and knock him over?" I asked.

"Not possible," he said. "See for yourself."

Looking over at the swinging beam, I understood what he meant. There wasn't enough light. All we could see of the person was the area just around his flashlight.

"That's why you have to make him open fire—so that I know where his gun is."

I ordinarily had a lot of confidence in his skill, but this was all or nothing. "No way," I said. "We're just gambling on your bulu toss. What happens if you miss?"

"Don't speak such nonsense," said Wang Sichuan. "Keep hesitating and that son of a bitch will get away. You want to be trapped here forever?"

I looked up. The light beam had stopped moving. I knew we had no choice but to roll the dice. I nodded.

The three of us turned off our flashlights and continued cautiously, taking cover wherever we could find it. We quickly drew close to the source of the flashlight beam, and our quarry came into view. He was less than thirty feet away, wearing a Japanese military uniform, and moving things into the oxskin raft. The man appeared on alert. He kept looking all around. Then we saw the film canister. It was already in the raft. I crouched behind several gunnysacks, revealing only the top half of my head as I watched. He was wearing a gas mask. I swore. Even now he still wouldn't reveal his identity.

Wang Sichuan gave me a glance and motioned noiselessly. You draw his attention, he was saying, while Ma Zaihai dives underwater. I nodded. He prepared to hurl the bulu. Then, just as Wang Sichuan was about to signal, the man suddenly stopped what he was doing and looked around in alarm, as if he'd noticed something. Wang Sichuan and I ducked back down at once. This guy's alert as hell, I said to myself. He really is a professional spy. We waited a long time, then looked back out. His movements had sped up. Clearly he was afraid.

Wang Sichuan made no more movements and gave us only a glance. Ma Zaihai immediately dove underwater. Straining my eyes, I watched as he swam under the raft. He was ready. Wang Sichuan nodded to me. Taking a deep breath, I muttered a mental "Buddha preserve us," then ran out, roaring madly, "Don't move!"

Immediately the flashlight beam was on me. I made it two steps before he opened fire, the bullet whizzing past my head. That's not good, I thought. That bullet was way too close, and he probably couldn't even see me yet. This son of a bitch really knows his way around a gun. Instinctively, I rolled to the ground. Two streaks of flame flew past where I had just been standing. One second later and I would have been toast. Luckily Wang Sichuan was no slouch himself. A moment after I hit the dirt, I heard the characteristic hollow smash of the bulu. This had to be his most powerful throwing style—the one he said was used to take down wild oxen. Then came a series of noises followed by a splash. I knew we'd done it. Leaping to my feet, I sprinted toward the noise.

Water splashed in all directions. Wang Sichuan must have already jumped in. I was about to do the same when I saw the black iron film canister. It was sitting magnificently on the floor of the raft. I stepped into the raft and grabbed it, then picked up the burning-hot rifle and aimed it at the water. It was two against one and Wang Sichuan was there. They wouldn't need me. Safeguarding the data seemed more important.

The water roiled for some time. Ma Zaihai's head was first to emerge, but then he went back under. With everyone twisted together, there was no way I could determine who was who. I didn't dare fire. After tossing and turning for who knows how long, the water suddenly went still. With a thump Ma Zaihai climbed into the raft, his mouth wide and gasping for breath. I very nearly smashed him with the butt of the rifle before I saw who it was. "What happened?" I asked him, but he couldn't say a thing, just panted so hard it seemed he might die. When I went to help him up, he didn't have the strength to even take my hand.

After several seconds Wang Sichuan popped out of the water as well. With his great big lungs, he was barely panting. Paddling in every direction, he looked around. The water was calm. I shined my flashlight across it. There was nothing to see.

"Goddamn it," Wang Sichuan swore. "He got away! Do you have the goods?"

I raised the iron canister. Shaking his head, he climbed into the raft and pulled Ma Zaihai to his feet. "If only we hadn't eased up in the end, a merit citation would have been ours for sure."

I stared down at the pitch-black surface of the water. Somewhere, I knew, there was a pair of eyes staring right back at us. Looking over at Ma Zaihai, I could tell from his expression how much he wanted to get out of here. "What now?" he asked. "Should we just set out directly?"

To tell you the truth, upon seeing the raft, my only desire was to leave at once. I could barely consider anything else. I nodded. "Screw it," I said. "For the safety of the film, I think we should head back right away."

Ma Zaihai was overjoyed and began hauling in the anchor. I looked over at Wang Sichuan. He remained stock-still. My heart thumped and I looked straight at him. "What is it?" I asked. Did he still want to wait for Old Tang and the others? The situation had changed. Our plans had to as well. I knew leaving them like this was an irresponsible move, but with such a great excuse in my hands, I couldn't bring myself to worry too much about it. Wang Sichuan's sense of justice was too strong. Did we always have to do the heroic thing?

His expression was a little odd. He hesitated for a moment, then spoke. "I was just thinking about whether we should first head back to the projection hall."

"The projection hall?" said Ma Zaihai in amazement. "What do you want to go back there for?"

Wang Sichuan tipped his head toward the iron canister. "If we just hand this thing off to our superiors, we'll probably never in our whole lives know what's on it."

We looked at one another. And then I understood. "What you're saying is that thirty or forty years from now, might we not regret heading back straight away? That just maybe, in only a couple of hours, we could be privy to the most incredible thing in human history."




EPILOGUE

Inodded in response to Wang Sichuan's idea.

We reached the projection room two hours later and started up the projector. The film began to roll. To this day I still don't know whether we made the right decision, but I do know that whenever I think of what I saw in that room, my blood runs cold.



ABOUT THE AUTHOR

With over a million subscribers to his microblog and five million books sold, Xu Lei is one of China's most popular and highest-grossing novelists. Born in 1982, he was inspired by his parents' travel stories to write fanciful tales about tomb raiders, which he then posted online. The series became Secrets of a Grave Robber, which now boasts eight volumes in print, three of which have been published in English. Search for the Buried Bomber, the first book in the Dark Prospects series, was hailed as China's most spectacular suspense novel of 2010. Xu Lei currently lives in Hangzhou, China.