She picked up the gas canister and poured the pungent clear liquid on top of his head. He coughed and then nearly vomited as it drizzled down his body. His wife tried to cry out in fits, muzzled by her gag. Then she too was doused with the flammable liquid. Lena was careful not to spill it on her own clothing.
The nooses were placed around their necks, and the men behind them pulled steadily on the ropes, which began raising the president and his wife in the air. Their hands tied behind their backs, there was nothing they could do as the ropes tightened and lifted them up. Their faces transformed into plums, veins nearly popping out.
One of her men handed her a small lighting torch. She clicked the metal starter, and it ignited. Their white masks and tunics, while designed to mimic the look of the American KKK, also served another purpose. They were made with flame-resistant material, to reduce the risk that they might accidentally burn themselves. Lena walked up to the president of the world’s largest country, who was now swaying on his noose, the life squeezing out of him.
Fire would accelerate the process.
Lena held the torch to his feet and felt the familiar tingle that only violence could bring her. She tried to conceal her bloodlust as she raised the flame up and the gasoline ignited. She then walked over to the woman and repeated the process.
They didn’t scream. They couldn’t. Through her white mask, two flames reflected in her brown eyes. The burning bodies shook and then went still, flesh melting and turning black. A violent, horrific end.
The black smoke rose up into the air. One of the burning ropes snapped, and the president’s flaming corpse fell to the ground.
She called out, “Time to leave.”
But two of her men were coming in through the penthouse entrance, shoving the daughter along by her arms.
“What is this? I told you to place her in my vehicle.”
One of them handed her a phone.
Jinshan’s voice on the other end. “Everyone, Lena. The daughter is the most important piece.” She began to reply, but the line was dead. Jinshan hadn’t spoken to her in that tone in years. She wondered which of the men had reported her amendment to the plan to Jinshan.
Her demons twisted around inside her mind, one lusting for more blood, the other filled with sorrow and sympathy as she looked at the poor girl’s tears. Unfamiliar emotions to Lena, but powerful ones. The daughter was on her knees now, reacting to the sight of her burning parents, the men trying to control her as she sobbed and fought and cried.
Everyone, Lena.
She found herself thinking about what she had said to Natesh, only a few days ago. We all have to do things that we don’t want to do sometimes. Amen. So be it.
Lena walked over to the girl. Sixteen, Lena decided, not fifteen. A pink hair tie in her hair. A silver locket around her neck.
The fire was too large for them to hang the girl like they had her parents. Lena brought the daughter to the center of the outdoor garden, a spot she was sure was covered well by all the cameras.
“Stay,” she said to the girl, who was looking into her own eyes. She no longer had tears. Just a numb look of curiosity, perhaps at hearing her voice and seeing that Lena was a woman, hiding under that white mask. Maybe the girl was wondering what sort of monster would take part in this. What sort of gruesome creature?
Lena pulled out a black handgun that had been holstered under her robe and stared back into the girl’s face, feeling the cold metal weapon in her hand and reflecting. The fires of her dead parents burned in the background, warming them both.
You are wondering how I became this way? Scarred skin and full of bloodlust? I was like you once. Beautiful and innocent, filled with the hopeful dreams of the young. But then I was torn from my home and molded into this creature that you see before you. A spy. An assassin. A warrior, fighting for the cause. But the lies and violence have made me numb. What is good and evil, when I have to do this?
Lena raised up the pistol and fired a single shot into the girl’s forehead.
11
David looked at the TV screen in the CIA conference room.
BREAKING NEWS: CHINESE PRESIDENT AND WIFE KILLED.
“This footage is coming to you live from Beijing. We need to put out a warning to all of our viewers that this may be disturbing video. There have already been two reported deaths. We’re still trying to get audio worked out with our news bureau there, but it looks like this is some sort of penthouse — you can see the outdoor patio. It’s a… okay, hold on. We now have our chief Chinese bureau correspondent with us. Tim, can you hear us?”
A British-accented voice came over the TV.
“Yes, we’re watching this video with you for the first time. We do have confirmation that the president and his wife have been killed. We are about to see that footage. This area of Beijing is a very upscale section. And we are being told that the penthouse suite in this building was being occupied by the Chinese president and his family. It began as some sort of hostage situation. The streets are being cleared and the police are on scene. As you can see, it looks like there are several masked persons walking out on the patio with automatic rifles. All of them are wearing white shirts with red crosses on the front and back. And it appears that they’ve strung up some type of rope — a noose, it looks like — over one of the high wooden beams on the penthouse patio. Oh. Oh my.”
“Holy shit. What are they doing? Are they going to hang her?”
Susan said, “I think so. My God. That’s the Chinese president’s wife. And that’s the president.”
They watched in horror as the two were strung up, hung, and burned.
“How could this happen?”
“Doesn’t the Chinese president have security like ours?”
“Yes, of course.”
“Then how is this possible?”
“I don’t know.”
David and his coworkers watched in shock as the violence unfolded on TV. The newscasters provided more dialogue, trying to make sense of what they were witnessing.
“I’m getting word from our producers that we need to cut to — okay, this video that we’re about to show you is from a group that claims to be responsible for what is going on. They are calling themselves the American Christians Against China Coalition.”
The screen cut to a white man of about sixty years of age. He was sitting in front of a bare beige background. His face was red as he spoke. The video was clearly heavily edited, but the quotes were from his mouth.
“Someone should stop those guys! I mean they’re killing babies… I would kill ’em. I think those Chinese communist bastards who do that deserve to die… I am a Christian… I think all atheists are going to burn in the eternal fires of hell. Especially those in China cuz they’re killing all them Christian babies… That Chinese president deserves to die, just like the rest of ’em. He’s part of the problem then. Spreading atheism and killing babies. And now they’re trying to sink our Navy ships and shootin’ down our helicopters. Damn those bastards to hell.”
David looked at Susan. “That’s Charles Beulah.”
General Schwartz said, “The religious fanatic?”
“Yes.”
David shook his head. “This has to be set up.”
Susan nodded. She walked over and picked up her phone.
“Who are you calling?”
“I want to have some of the NSA folks put some numbers behind this. I want to know what the Chinese media and social media are saying about all this.”
David looked back at the screen. He covered his mouth, disturbed by the image of two bodies swinging from a noose, burning.
“I’m not sure that you need the NSA to tell you. They’re going to be going crazy.”
One of the people wearing a white robe walked out onto the garden area, dragging a younger-looking Chinese woman with them.
“Who is that? She looks young.”
The person in the white robe lifted up a pistol from beneath the garment, aimed it at the head of the young woman, and fired.
“Oh my God.” David winced and turned away for a moment.
Susan shook her head. “I think that might have been the daughter. We’re going to need to put together a preliminary assessment of how this is playing over there.”