Future
“Team one to team two,” Huang Ting’s voice said from the comm channel. “What’s the situation over there?”
“Currently headed toward the transfer point.” Du Jing glanced at the screen of the tracker. That van was speeding toward the transfer point. Zhou Luoyang sighed. He’d hoped that Ruan Song would grow a conscience at Mariamman Temple and change his mind about abducting Lu Zhongyu.
But in spite of running into familiar faces, Ruan Song was committed to selling Lu Zhongyu to the KCR. Though for how much, Zhou Luoyang wasn’t sure.
Next, the van would take Lu Zhongyu to Thao Dien’s wasteland and forest. There, he would be passed off to another party, who would take him away in a different vehicle.
“What about you?” Du Jing asked.
“I’ve arrived. The KCR vehicle is parked in the forest. You can check the footage.”
Du Jing drove toward the transfer point, but maintained a steady distance from the hill. Zhuang Li was driving another car their way. Both vehicles met up and barrelled onto the main road.
Through the eyes of the bird drone, they watched as Ruan Song and the driver of the van disembarked and, behind the cover of the trees, carried a body bag dotted with air holes into a second vehicle without a license plate.
The KCR soldiers handed the driver of the van several American bills.
Ruan Song got in the KCR vehicle and shut the door. The car pulled out of the forest, leaving behind three guards, who sat amidst the trees rolling cigarettes.
The bird drone flapped its wings and glided in the air after the vehicle.
“It’s almost out of battery,” Zhou Luoyang reported. “Your spy camera has twenty-one percent left.”
“We need to change the battery,” said Du Jing. “Once we reach the freeway, fly it back to us.”
The bird drone flew along the freeway, the lens installed in its throat locating that plateless vehicle.
“They’re driving toward Cambodia. Seems like they’re headed for Phnom Penh. What’s the maximum distance the drone can be operated from?” Huang Ting asked.
Zhuang Li was in the same car as Huang Ting. He answered now, “I think it’s thirty-six kilometers max. Any more than thirty kilometers and it’s risky.”
The night prior, the camera had remained on standby mode and was not in use except to transmit its video feed. Phnom Penh was about 200 kilometers from Ho Chi Minh, and to travel between them, you had to take rugged, winding, mountainous roads. If they lost track of the target, all their efforts would go down the drain.
“Don’t get too close,” Du Jing said. “Stay back ten kilometers.”
“Do you guys have satellite access?” Huang Ting asked over the comm channel.
“Will you give me one?” Du Jing asked back.
Resigned, Huang Ting said, “I’ll contact my colleagues in Cambodia and see if we can borrow a chopper.”
“You guys are richer, okay,” Zhou Luoyang said, eyes fixed on the screen.
“There are lots of rich Chinese people in Cambodia. We have a partnership.”
Both teams reached the freeway and continued toward the Cambodian border. For a time, the comm channel was completely quiet.
“Zhou Luoyang.” Du Jing was concentrated on driving.
“What?”
Zhou Luoyang’s mind was filled with Du Jing’s kiss two hours earlier. He looked up at him.
Du Jing usually just called him Luoyang. Ever since they’d met, he had hardly ever called him by both his first and last name. On the other hand, Zhou Luoyang usually called him either “Hey” or “Du Jing.”
Now, called by his full name, Zhou Luoyang was a bit nervous, as if he’d been called on in class.
“Nothing,” said Du Jing. “Just wanted to say your name.”
“Weirdo.” Zhou Luoyang was very wound up at the moment. They were in the middle of following Lu Zhongyu. It would all be so much easier had things gone according to their original plan, in which Lu Zhongyu was not abducted. The vehicle that came for the exchange would not have received its payload, so it would have to go back, and they could simply tail the empty vehicle.
But now Lu Zhongyu was unconscious in that car. If they accidentally lost track of their target, there would be another human life on the line.
He needed to focus on the plateless car. But in this most critical moment, his mouth was filled with the taste and feeling left by Du Jing’s kiss.
It had to be then that Du Jing suddenly said, “When we kissed, your mouth tasted like coffee. It was sweet…”
Zhou Luoyang took out the coffee candy from his bag. He unwrapped one and stuffed it in Du Jing’s mouth.
“Oh, so that’s what it was.” Du Jing absentmindedly sucked on the coffee candy.
“Yep,” Zhou Luoyang casually said. “Do you like the taste?”
“I do.”
“Then have some more.”
“Team two,” Huang Ting said, “We’ve reached the border checkpoint. Going by surveillance, they’re definitely going to enter Cambodia.”
“Zhuang Li’s carrying a visa exempting him from checks. You guys can go through the diplomatic lane. Wait for us on the other side of the border,” Du Jing said. “I’m going to bring the drone back so I can change its battery.”
This was a relatively dangerous move. If the plateless KCR vehicle did not cross the border and changed direction right before crossing, they would lose them.
But Huang Ting didn’t question Du Jing’s decision. “I don’t have an exemption, though.”
“Get out at the gate,” Du Jing instructed. “Leave everything in the car and run through.”
Zhuang Li cackled. Du Jing reached forward and tapped the phone Zhou Luoyang held in his hand. The drone abandoned its pursuit and flew back towards them.
Zhou Luoyang rolled down the window and brought the bird inside. He glanced at the time: it was almost noon.
“We won’t need it.” Du Jing could see that Zhou Luoyang was eyeing his watch. “We won’t lose them. Trust me.”
“Won’t need what?” Huang Ting demanded. “You keeping something up your sleeve?”
Zhou Luoyang: “……”
Du Jing had momentarily forgotten that the comm channel was still open. In other words, everyone had overheard their conversation.
“The less you know, the longer you live.” Du Jing put on his sunglasses and told Zhou Luoyang, “Change the battery. It’s in the black box.”
“How do I do that? This thing’s too complicated.”
“And you studied mechanical engineering.”
“They don’t teach this stuff in class, okay!”
Du Jing had Zhou Luoyang steer the car. Meanwhile, he took off his sunglasses and leaned over, taking the thin, flat battery. He twisted the screw under the abdomen of the mechanical bird.
Zhou Luoyang had no choice but to twist sideways and grab the steering wheel. Their bodies crossed over one another, though neither left their seat. Du Jing held Zhou Luoyang with one hand, glancing up at the road, and pushed the gas pedal with his foot. “Careful we don’t wind up in a car crash and die.”
“Don’t speak it into existence! Don’t slam the gas pedal! We almost hit that car!” Zhou Luoyang said. “You’re doing it on purpose!”
The off-road vehicle lurched towards a large truck. Zhou Luoyang frantically turned the steering wheel, passing the truck. Its driver angrily honked several times.
It left Zhou Luoyang covered in cold sweat, yet Du Jing was just leisurely eating his coffee candy. After switching out the battery, he stuffed the bird drone in Zhou Luoyang’s arms and gave him a gentle pat on the head.
“Let it fly.” Du Jing put his sunglasses back on.
“We lost them,” Zhou Luoyang said.
“Patience,” Du Jing said. “If we can’t find them, we’ll just turn around and go vacationing in Nha Trang.”
Zhuang Li said, “Officer Huang isn’t here yet, but the car is! You need to get to the border checkpoint, quick!”
“I’m in line!” Huang Ting was very much over it, having been stuck at border inspection.
“I’ll try my best,” Zhou Luoyang said, “but it’s too far! The drone can’t fly very fast!”
The drone flew past the border checkpoint, finally locating that plateless car and locking in on it once more. Not a moment later, Du Jing pulled their car up to the checkpoint too. He gathered their visas, passports, and proof of special invitation. In their passports he stuffed two American hundred dollar bills, and then rolled the window down.
Two soldiers approached. Zhou Luoyang looked up quickly, but Du Jing placed a hand over his, blocking the phone from view and moving it lower. At the same time, he passed their documents to the soldiers.
The soldiers examined their documents. They didn’t ask any questions or insist on checking their car, only went to make copies of their passports and papers.
Zhou Luoyang wanted to peek at the phone screen, worried that the bird camera would lose contact.
“Don’t be nervous,” Du Jing said.
Du Jing patiently waited. As he did so, he fished another coffee candy from Zhou Luoyang’s bag. He unwrapped it and ate it, one hand tapping absently on the steering wheel.
Zhou Luoyang knew that every time Du Jing came down from a manic episode, he would retain an emotional high. Many of these tiny actions were his way of easing himself through it.
He took out Du Jing’s pill box from his bag and looked inside. Upon confirming that he had taken today’s pills, Zhou Luoyang stopped worrying about him.
But Du Jing leaned over and grabbed his chin, tilting Zhou Luoyang’s face towards him.
“What now?” Zhou Luoyang asked.
“Nothing. I’m just looking at you,” Du Jing said casually. His fingers tapped the steering wheel rhythmically.
They got their passports and papers back. Zhou Luoyang felt as if a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. He rolled the window back up, and Du Jing drove them away.
“Are you guys in the parking lot?” Du Jing asked, eyeing the cars outside the checkpoint.
Zhuang Li replied, “I am. Officer Huang, are you here yet?”
“I won’t be there for at least another twenty minutes,” Huang Ting said. “Team two, you go ahead. Zhuang Li, wait for me.”
“They got on a boat!” Zhou Luoyang said. “They drove onto a boat.”
Twenty kilometers from the border checkpoint, on the Mekong River where ferries were docked, that plateless car drove straight onto a small ferryboat.
The drone flew along the river. Afraid of being noticed, Zhou Luoyang made sure not to let it get too close.
“Land it on the back of another boat. Take a break,” Du Jing said.
It was difficult to maneuver over the water, and on top of that, it was getting dark. Zhou Luoyang was terribly afraid of accidentally dropping the camera into the water, but the boat kept sailing. Finally, he had to carefully bring it closer to a different boat and let it land.
“Turn on the infrared camera.” Du Jing pressed the button on the screen.
“Alright,” Zhou Luoyang said, now less tense. “That’s good for now.”
He reached for a candy, but Du Jing had already taken the last one.
Du Jing saw, and plucked the half-eaten candy from his own mouth and stuffed it into Zhou Luoyang’s.
Zhou Luoyang: “……”
“You’re too amped up,” Zhou Luoyang quietly said after turning off the comm channel.
“I’ll be fine after a few days,” Du Jing replied. “Sometimes I can’t help myself.”
He drove down the road that ran along the Mekong River. Almost as if talking to himself, he said aloud, “Which version of me do you like best? Tell me the truth.”
“Every version of you is you,” Zhou Luoyang said. “You have bipolar disorder, not schizophrenia1. There aren’t multiple versions of you.”
“Oh,” Du Jing replied solemnly.
The comm channel blinked. Zhou Luoyang turned it back on. Huang Ting grumbled, “Can you not turn off the channel?”
“I accidentally bumped into it,” Zhou Luoyang said. “Sorry.”
“There’s a sightseeing tour three kilometeres from you that’ll take you down the entire Mekong River. Drive over there. My colleague has already made arrangements for you.”
“Are meals included on the ship?” Du Jing asked, grabbing Zhou Luoyang’s chin again.
“I finished it!” Zhou Luoyang snapped angrily. “How long do you expect one candy to last?”
Du Jing raised his hands in surrender. Soon, he found a road leading up the mountain and drove onto it. Zhou Luoyang put in earbuds. Huang Ting said, “It’s a helicopter tour! Follow their instructions!”
Zhuang Li said, “It’s dark, brother. You finally made it through the border. Boss, team one has boarded the car.”
“Should we wait for you?” Du Jing shut the car door and looked around. Zhou Luoyang grabbed the phone, while Du Jing slung a duffel bag over his shoulder, and they walked to the tarmac upon which a helicopter sat not far away.
“We’ll drive along the river. You two go ahead. Once you get there, wait,” Huang Ting said.
This was Zhou Luoyang’s first time in a helicopter. Du Jing ensured he was seated comfortably before buckling his seatbelt for him. The pilot was Vietnamese; he gave them a thumbs up.
Huang Ting spoke through his earpiece. “Tell them where you want to go. Just say to fly along the river.”
There was a limit to the drone’s range, so they needed to stay within thirty kilometers of it. But as long as they found the location where the plateless car disembarked, they would have successfully located either the second transfer point or the place where they stashed their hostages.
The sound of the helicopter was deafening. Du Jing shut the cabin door and sat shoulder to shoulder with Zhou Luoyang, staring blankly at the darkness outside.
“Fly along the river,” Zhou Luoyang said into the radio of the cockpit.
The pilot gave him a thumbs up.
Du Jing tilted his head to look at the phone screen. Zhou Luoyang gave the phone back to him, as if to ask if he would like to take over operating the drone.
Du Jing waved his hand, declining. He leaned back in his seat and narrowed his eyes, thinking.
“They stopped,” Zhou Luoyang reported. “Where is this? They’re not in Phnom Penh yet. The GPS says they’re in Prey Veng. What are they doing? Unloading? Oh, no, they’re changing license plates. They’ve got a Cambodian plate now.”
Boats were faster than cars, and helicopters were faster than boats. By the time they were almost caught up to that car, Huang Ting and Zhuang Li had only just left the border.
The drone was almost out of battery again. It was at thirteen percent.
“Your phone is almost dead, too.” Zhou Luoyang checked the time. Nearly midnight. They had left at ten thirty in the morning, and by now thirteen and a half hours had elapsed.
“There’s a third battery,” Du Jing said. “That’s about it. This is the backup battery.”
Zhou Luoyang gently tapped Du Jing’s watch, silently asking, Do we turn back time?
Du Jing shook his head. “The Mekong River is bordered on both sides by mostly jungle. Even if we got a head start, it would still be hard to locate the target. Let’s determine a precise location first.”
Zhou Luoyang nodded. “They’re driving towards Suong now.”
Zhou Luoyang didn’t know Cambodia well. He knew the direction of Angkor Wat, but aside from that, he didn’t have a clue as to what the local customs were or which regions were dangerous and which were orderly.
“There are a lot of Chinese people in Suong,” Du Jing commented soberly. “Makes sense.”
“Boss,” Zhuang Li suddenly said from the earpiece. “Apologies. We’ve run into some trouble.”
On the helicopter landing pad, a group of armed Cambodian soldiers surrounded Huang Ting and Zhuang Li’s car.
Du Jing didn’t speak. He placed his hand on his watch.
Zhou Luoyang looked up. Just then, the helicopter passed over dense forest. Not a second later, an RPG missile shot towards them from below.
With a roaring boom, the missile plowed through the cockpit. Weightless, Du Jing and Zhou Luoyang both floated for a moment in midair, but were yanked down by their seatbelts. Du Jing immediately turned and wrapped his arms around Zhou Luoyang.
The helicopter spiraled downward in the dark, careening past the forest’s trees. The oil tank left a trail of angry flames in its wake. After some sputtering, it erupted.
Du Jing’s phone flew from Zhou Luoyang’s hand. He was dizzy from the violent spinning and weightlessness, but Du Jing held him tight, his left arm protecting his head and his right hand supporting his lower back.
There was a thunderous rumble, followed by darkness. The explosion thrust Zhou Luoyang out of the helicopter.
His ears rang, and his vision oscillated between blinding whiteness and pitch darkness. Zhou Luoyang thought his rib might be broken. He sucked in breaths, again and again, feeling wave after wave of pain in his chest. He wanted to vomit.
He began to struggle. He heard another explosion and stumbled forward, still strapped to his seat by the seatbelt.
Zhou Luoyang pulled the seatbelt off. He had no idea where his earpiece had landed.
“Du Jing?” he called. “Du Jing!”
Du Jing lay prone in the sea of flames. Zhou Luoyang staggered into the fire. They were surrounded by trees ablaze. The smoke made it impossible for him to open his eyes. But he pulled Du Jing’s arm over his shoulder and dragged him from the flames, snuffing out the fire from his clothes.
Blood dripped down Du Jing’s forehead and cheeks—a terrible sight.
“Du Jing!” Zhou Luoyang shouted. “Please wake up!”
From behind him came the sound of guns cocking. The muzzle of an AK pressed into the back of his head. Soon he was surrounded by people speaking Khmer.
He wrapped his fingers around Du Jing’s watch, but before he could turn it, the butt of a gun slammed into the back of his head, and he lost consciousness.
Footnotes:
- Quick note here: I think ZLY is confusing schizophrenia with dissociative identity disorder because the Chinese term for schizophrenia literally translates to “mental split.” This is taken from the Greek root ‘skhizo’, meaning split or cleave. (Back)
Translated by beansprout. Edited by opal.
beansprout translates 
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