Flags of Sin - 05

  From the Back Cover

  Archaeology Professor James Acton simply wants to get away from everything, and relax. A trip to China seems just the answer, and he and his fiancée, Professor Laura Palmer, are soon on a flight to Beijing.

  But while boarding, they bump into an old friend, Delta Force Command Sergeant Major Burt Dawson, who surreptitiously delivers a message that they must meet the next day, for Dawson knows something they don’t.

  China is about to erupt into chaos.

  Foreign tourists and diplomats are being targeted by unknown forces, and if they don’t get out of China in time, they could be caught up in events no one had seen coming.

  J. Robert Kennedy, the author of twelve international best sellers, including the smash hit James Acton Thrillers, takes history once again and turns it on its head, sending his reluctant heroes James Acton and Laura Palmer into harm’s way, to not only save themselves, but to try and save a country from a century old conspiracy it knew nothing about.

  Praise for J. Robert Kennedy

  J. Robert Kennedy is the author of twelve international best sellers, including the smash hit James Acton Thrillers series.

  The Protocol has been on the best seller list in the US and UK since its release, including occupying the number one spot for three months.

  "If you want fast and furious, if you can cope with a high body count, most of all if you like to be hugely entertained, then you can't do much better than J Robert Kennedy."

  Amazon Vine Voice Reviewer

  Books by J. Robert Kennedy

  The James Acton Thrillers

  The Protocol

  Brass Monkey

  Broken Dove

  The Templar's Relic

  Flags of Sin

  The Arab Fall

  The Circle of Eight

  The Special Agent Dylan Kane Thrillers

  Rogue Operator

  Containment Failure

  Cold Warriors

  The Detective Shakespeare Mysteries

  Depraved Difference

  Tick Tock

  The Redeemer

  Zander Varga, Vampire Detective Series

  The Turned

  Flags of Sin

  A James Acton Thriller

  by

  J. Robert Kennedy

  Published Internationally by J. Robert Kennedy, Ottawa, ON Canada

  Copyright © 2013 J. Robert Kennedy

  Cover and Inside Artwork Copyright © 2013 J. Robert Kennedy

  All rights reserved. The use of any part of this publication reproduced, transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the prior written consent of the publisher, J. Robert Kennedy, is an infringement of copyright law.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any person or persons, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  V1.8

  For those who struggle for freedom and democracy, wherever they may be.

  Flags of Sin

  A James Acton Thriller

  Table of Contents

  The Novel

  Afterword

  About the Author

  Also by the Author

  Preface

  On April 15, 1989, students began to occupy Tiananmen Square in the Chinese capital of Beijing. These gatherings were initially to mourn the death of a liberal reform politician, Hu Yaobang, but over the next seven weeks expanded into a general protest demanding freedom and democracy for the Chinese people, with several hundred thousand students and residents participating.

  On June 3rd, hundreds of thousands of troops from the Chinese 27th and 38th armies were sent into Beijing with orders to clear the square by 6:00am on June 4th. They were opposed by thousands of Beijing residents and students, who erected barricades to block their progress.

  At 10:30pm troops opened fire, and the tanks rolled over the barricades and their guardians.

  And the rest is history.

  In the West we call it the Tiananmen Square Massacre.

  In China, it is known as the June Fourth Incident.

  Today, China is thought to be a country with little dissent. What isn’t reported in the Chinese press, and rarely in the Western press, is that in 2010, it is estimated that over 180,000 separate “Mass Incidents” occurred, ranging from flash mobs to organized protests.

  Dissent is alive and well in today’s China.

  And dissent in today’s China, is still not tolerated.

  Court of the Tongzhi Emperor

  The Forbidden City, Beijing, China

  January 13, 1875

  “Get Our son out of here, now!”

  Li Mei bowed to her emperor, deeply, and rushed to the crib holding the most precious thing she had ever had in her charge. The future emperor. The future Son of Heaven, and God’s ruler of all under Heaven. She was only fifteen, but already trusted with the care of the most valuable child in all the world. It had been a shock, she a mere servant in the nursery, but when the surprise announcement had been made that the Emperor had a son, she had been chosen to care for it. The newly selected wet nurse, and one of her best friends, Yu, had said it was the very fact she was so young that she had been picked.

  She was too young to have yet been corrupted.

  Screams from outside the door, and the sound of a blade being drawn startled her. She looked at the heavy wooden entrance, and knew the Empress Dowager’s troops were just outside, pounding on the thick oak.

  “Do Our bidding!”

  Her eyes darted to her glaring master, and she immediately dropped them in fear. Never look your Emperor in his eyes. It implies equality, of which there is none. “Sorry, my Emperor.” She bowed then turned back to the crib, reaching in and picking up the little bundle.

  A cracking sound.

  She spun toward the door, and she could see the head of an axe being worked out from the other side in preparation for another blow.

  “Wait!”

  She froze and a moment later the shadow of her Emperor graced her being. He rubbed his thumb over his son’s forehead. She dared not look to see if the boy’s last vision of his father was that of a smiling man, or a terrified man. Smiling. He’s nearly a God, what does he have to fear?

  “Take him out the tunnels, keep him hidden, and when the time is right, tell him who he is. For he is the future. Today We may lose the seat of power to Our mother, but We will never lose the divine right to rule this land. Today We die, so that Our son may live to rule another day. Tell him it is Our wish that someday he return here, return here and take his rightful place on the altar of power, to lead his people into this new, maddening world.”

  “My Emperor, the door!”

  They both turned to see one of the Imperial Guards pointing. The sturdy wood had done its job, delaying their besiegers, but it was ready to give, it finally able to take no more.

  She felt a hand on her back, and she almost dropped to her knees to beg forgiveness for touching her Emperor, but it pushed her forward. “Now go!”

  She bowed, then ran, joined by a dozen guards, and another dozen servants, all who provided the daily care their future emperor required, and would provide it tomorrow, should they succeed in escaping.

  But that was still in question.

  Yells erupted from behind them, followed by bloody screams at the sound of the door splintering open. Then the shouts of her brave emperor cut through the din of chaos as his mother’s troops broke through. Swords clashed, steel on steel, the shouts of the brave men fighting to save their Emperor, the shouts of those same brave souls falling to the superior numbers. But it
was the thought of her Emperor, bravely choosing to remain behind, to delay the troops long enough for them to get away, that filled her heart with pride and sorrow. He knew if he fled with them, through the only escape route available to them, they would be pursued. But by remaining behind, he gave his son a chance to live.

  One must die, for the other to carry on the family dynasty.

  Then there was silence, the swords still, and a voice, saying something she couldn’t hear, the only noise now their own padded feet as they rushed down the corridor as stealthily as they could.

  There was a thud, as if something blunt had hit something soft. A cry of pain and the clatter of a sword hitting stone. Another thud, another cry, and she knew it was her Emperor being hacked to pieces. She gasped as her chest tightened. She felt as if she would pass out, and nearly dropped the now Emperor she clutched to her bosom.

  Hands grabbed her by the arms as she collapsed, someone else reaching for the baby. She held on tighter as she took a deep breath. Be strong for the little one. “I’m alright,” she whispered, as she regained her legs, and continued around the corner, and farther from the horror she had just heard.

  They reached the end of the hall and a guard held aside a tapestry depicting the birth of the Dragon King, one of her Emperor’s favorites, as another pushed aside a secret panel. Through the opening she rushed, followed by the others, then they waited as one of their guards sealed the secret passage, locking it from their side so no one could pursue, or flee, should they know where it was.

  For they had been betrayed.

  Betrayed by someone amongst them. It was the only explanation for the ease of entry into the Forbidden City. And it was her new, greatest fear, for she had been given the honor of raising the young emperor, this tiny creature who was the greatest threat to the future of the Empress Dowager Cixi’s reign, this tiny creature who would be worshipped by millions of loyal subjects, none of whom would be pleased once they discovered how brutally, and dishonorably, their Emperor had been murdered.

  She eyed each of the soldiers and servants as they rushed down the dimly lit passage, the only light from torches carried by several of the guard.

  Which one of you is the traitor?

  East Chang’an Street, Approaching Tiananmen Square, Beijing, China

  Today

  “If there’s anywhere we’re safe, it’s Beijing.”

  Famous last words.

  Charles Redford looked at his boss sitting across from him, Ian Davidson, the US Ambassador to China, with a frown. “You read the security assessment by the specialists, sir. You know there’ve been specific threats made against foreign ambassadors over the past couple of weeks. And there have been dozens of reports of foreigners being attacked and murdered. Something’s happening that the Chinese don’t want us to know about.”

  “Nothing’s happening, Charlie. You worry too much.”

  Somebody has to.

  There had been whispered reports from all across the country for weeks, mostly rumors on the Internet, nothing in the official press, which didn’t mean much. The official press in China was a joke. It was the State’s messenger of all that was great about the Party. It was hardly a news source for anything internal. But the Internet was so tightly controlled, that even the whispers of troubles were being quickly quashed.

  It wasn’t until tourists stopped showing up for their return flights, stopped arriving home, that the alarm bells began to go off. That was one week ago. The first real requests for investigations had begun to arrive two days later, then the specialists had arrived to do a security review to ensure the safety of the American contingent in Beijing.

  And their preliminary report had sent shivers down his spine.

  Woefully inadequate.

  That’s what Mr. White had said about their security. The words echoed in his head as they drove toward the official residence. The weakest part of their security. White had said the embassy itself was fine, and the residence was fine, but it was the travel to and from that was woefully inadequate. It was Ambassador Davidson’s insistence on driving by Tiananmen Square every day on his way home. And his insistence on lowering the window while doing so.

  “Are we at least going to follow Mr. White’s advice?”

  Ambassador Davidson chuckled.

  “Mr. White.” He leaned forward, lowering his voice. “You do realize that’s an alias.”

  Redford nodded. “Of course. I just assumed he’s CIA or something.”

  Davidson shook his head. “No, we wouldn’t risk bringing them in so obviously. No, these are Delta Force—”

  The panel separating them from the driver lowered. “Sir, we’re almost there.”

  “Thanks, Tom.”

  Redford moved aside as the Ambassador changed positions so he could lower the window and get a good view.

  “Are we really going to do this, even after what Mr. White said?”

  Davidson smiled at him, as if he were something to be pitied. “Mr. White is paid to panic. I’m not.”

  The statement was matter of fact. Even if it’s true, maybe he’s got reason to panic. Redford looked out the back window, the bullet proof glass at least providing some comfort. Their escort vehicle was close behind, four armed men, in addition to the four in the lead vehicle. Plus their driver and one escort in the passenger seat up front.

  Ten armed, highly trained men, all to protect one man.

  Redford had no illusions that he would be anything but cannon fodder if the Ambassador’s life were at stake, and it didn’t really bother him that much. Dying did, and of course he would try to save himself as best he could, but he was also a realist. He was a plebe compared to the Ambassador.

  “Here we go, sir!” called Tom from the front.

  Redford watched Davidson press the button, the window lowering as they slowed. Tiananmen Square. It was beautiful. And massive. And a tomb to hundreds if not thousands of forgotten souls, the memory of the massacre that had taken place here in 1989 washed away by the communist state, and conveniently forgotten by Western governments eager to do business with the burgeoning economy.

  It was almost sickening.

  But it hadn’t stopped him from jumping at the job. But then again he wasn’t even in high school when the massacre had happened. He remembered it vaguely, but those memories might have been mixed in with his more recent viewings of all things China when he had first heard of his assignment.

  That was two years ago.

  And he had to admit, he loved it here. It was a mix of ancient history, with modern day wonders. The pollution knocked your socks off some days, the crowds could be intense, the cyclists infuriating, but you couldn’t go ten feet without seeing something older than anything back home.

  “Something’s happening.”

  It wasn’t the words, but the tone of Tom’s voice that caused him to snap from his reverie.

  “What is it?” asked Redford, the Ambassador apparently not having heard it, or simply not concerned.

  “Holy shit!” It was the agent in the front this time. Redford followed his gaze and saw a person flying backward, then skidding twenty or thirty feet along the concrete of the square.

  “What the hell was that?” asked Ambassador Davidson as his head jerked back in the window.

  They all flew forward as Tom slammed on the brakes. Redford picked himself up off the floor of their hardened limo. “What the hell happened?”

  But there was no response. Tom’s head had turned back, and at first Redford thought he was checking on them, but when he tumbled forward again he realized the car was now in reverse, the accelerator pressed hard as the engine protested and the car raced away from whatever was happening.

  “Holy shit!” exclaimed the agent in the front, whose name Redford couldn’t remember at the moment.

  “What’s going on?” demanded the Ambassador.

  “We’re under attack!” yelled Tom. “Lead vehicle has been taken out. Shit!”

  Brakes
squealed and the rear seat passengers tumbled again. Redford took the opportunity to shove himself into the nearest seat and strap in. The car jerked forward again, and Ambassador Davidson rolled backward, slamming into the seat. Redford reached over and grabbed him, pulling him into the seat and strapping the disoriented man into place.

  “You’re bleeding, sir!”

  Redford leaned forward, retrieving a handkerchief from his pocket and pressed it against the gushing wound on his boss’ forehead. A shattering sound from up front, then something hit Redford in the back of the head. He gasped as the Ambassador’s face was smeared in a red, sticky goo.

  “Holy Christ!”

  It was the agent. Redford’s head spun toward the front and he gagged.

  There was a six inch hole in the front windshield, and Tom’s head wasn’t where it should be. In fact, it was completely missing.

  The driverless car jerked to a halt, hitting something, but Redford’s seatbelt held him in place.

  “What do we do?” he yelled at the agent, who was on his radio, providing their status. Something hit the car, then the windshield was blocked slightly as someone jumped on the hood. Redford’s heart slammed into his chest and he reached down to unbuckle his seatbelt.

  A gun shoved through the hole and began to belch led as he dove to the floor.

  The Imperial Gardens, Beijing, China

  January 13, 1875

  Li Mei urged the little bundle in her arms to stop crying, her heart a lump in her throat as her eyes, filled with fear, probed the gardens they now ran through. It was an area of the city she wasn’t familiar with, much of the life she remembered having been spent in the service of her Emperor, confined within the walls of the Forbidden City, with little time to enjoy its treasures.

  Please be quiet!