snarky_panda (snarky_panda) wrote in mulanficspace, @ 2007-06-08 20:10:00 |
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Title: Prey
Summary: Alternate universe suspense story set in the 20th century, specifically the early 1980’s. The memory sections take place in the 1960’s, during China’s Cultural Revolution.
Disclaimer: Everything from the Disney movie belongs to Disney.
Link here for Chapter One.
Chapter Two
Mulan never was able to get in touch with Shang.
Feeling anxious and unable to sleep anyway, Mulan caught the earliest possible bus back to San Francisco the following morning. She wanted to get to the bank as soon as it opened to cash her check. Once she was settled somewhere, hidden and with a new name, she would contact him at work. Hopefully he would be there.
With trepidation she made her way back to Chinatown, where she could cash her check at the Bank of Hong Kong and withdraw all of the money in her account. Chinatown was the last place she should have been, but she needed to get her money. Fortunately the streets were already packed with cars and pedestrians hurrying to work, making it easy for her to blend in.
As she neared the block where her bank was located she glimpsed a familiar face. Li Shang was standing in front of the Bank of Hong Kong, talking and laughing with another man, who she recognized to be her old boss, Mr. Luo. Her breath caught in her throat and her heart sank as she watched the two men in dismay. Was Mr. Luo questioning Shang now? How did they know each other? Did someone follow Shang because they saw him with her?
She stepped into the nearby archway of one of the office buildings further down the block and pulled Shang’s business card out of her jacket pocket again to read the name of his employer. She didn’t recognize it, nor did she have any recollection of her own company doing business with any entities that went by the name on the card.
Pocketing it once more, she opened her bag and withdrew an Oakland A’s cap that someone had bought for her. She placed it on her head and pulled it down so that the bill of the hat obscured her face somewhat. Then she stepped out onto the sidewalk again, craning her neck to see the two men. They appeared to be conversing lightly, like friends. After several more minutes, Mr. Luo walked away and Shang went into the bank.
Mulan waited until Shang exited the bank and walked away. She didn’t want him to find her right now. Though she was relieved to see that he was unharmed she felt reluctant to talk to him, disturbed and shaken up by the sight of him speaking with Mr. Luo, who she feared was intent on harming her. So she waited until he was gone before walking to the corner and venturing into the bank.
Her check cashed, she left the bank and stepped inside a restaurant to grab a quick breakfast and use their bathroom. Hidden in one of the stalls, she withdrew the money from her paycheck and divided it up, putting a small amount in her pocket and stashing the rest of it in her shoes.
Out on the street again she ventured into the thick crowd, planning her next move. The sooner she got out of Chinatown, the better.
“Mulan.”
The voice that called to her moments later was male and very familiar, though she didn’t recognize it to be Shang’s or Mr. Luo’s voice. Without so much as a glance back, she continued walking, picking up her pace ever so slightly.
“Mulan, wait,” the man called out again.
He caught up to her as she ducked into an alleyway. It was one of her co-workers, Fei-pu. Her eyes darted around quickly, looking to see if there were any witnesses around.
“Are you okay?”
“Fine,” she answered, now looking him over and attempting to gauge whether he was carrying a gun. “Why are you chasing after me?”
“Chasing you? I just called out to you and you started running. You weren’t at work yesterday or this morning and you never called in. Everyone has been worried about you.”
Mulan hesitated for a moment, debating whether she ought to say anything.
“Are you quitting?”
“And if I am, what are you going to do?”
“I won’t do anything. But maybe you can help me. I’m on my way back into the office now. Would you meet me later?”
She was tired and feeling extremely annoyed right now. If it hadn’t been for Shang following her around, she wouldn’t have had to detour to Palo Alto for a day and would already be hidden with her money. But it was too late to change anything, and traveling with Aunt Qiu-yue had taught her that sometimes it was necessary to take the long way. It would do no good to remain angry or resentful.
“Help you?” she repeated impatiently.
“I think you know what I’m talking about. Would you be able to meet me at around eight o’clock tonight?”
Fei-pu seemed to be uneasy and her mind suddenly absorbed his insinuation.
“It was you,” she whispered, as the realization dawned on her. “You read those files…”
“Not here,” he hissed sharply, cutting her off. “We have to talk in private. Let’s meet this evening. Can you do that?”
“Mr. Luo questioned me about them. He didn’t believe me when I told him I had nothing to do with it. It’s your fault I’m in this predicament now and I don’t think I can help you anyway. Please leave me out of this.”
“You’re already involved, Mulan, by association,” he answered softly. “I think you know that, or why else would you have run?”
She didn’t answer him and he continued.
“Whether you like it or not, you are a part of this. But maybe we can help each other. Would you meet me later? If you don’t like what I have to say you can walk away and I’ll never bother you again.”
“Alright,” she answered finally after deliberating carefully. “But not in Chinatown.”
“Of course not.” He withdrew a pen and a small notepad from his jacket pocket. Flipping it open, he scribbled on it quickly then ripped the sheet out and handed it to her.
Dolores Street and 18th at Mission Dolores Park.
In the Mission District. She looked up and nodded.
“Eight o’clock,” he repeated.
*******
A man’s face loomed over her, looking down at her in a dark train compartment. There was a bright light shining in her face suddenly, the light of his flashlight. She’d been snuggled up against her aunt, her head resting against her chest and suddenly she felt the arm that was around her leave.
“Mama needs to get something to show the man,” she whispered, gently coaxing her to sit up.
She brought one hand up to shield her eyes from the bright light and instinctively reached for her aunt’s hand with the other. Sobs began to build up within her and, remembering the grave warning to not make a sound, she stifled them. Aunt Qiu-yue was talking to the guard with the bayonet that now stood in their compartment, handing him papers that she’d received from a man in one of the towns they’d stopped in. Mulan had been told sternly to never mention the town or that man.
I’m Chen Mulan. Chen Mulan, she repeated over and over inside her head, reminding herself of her new name so she wouldn’t make a mistake.
“What’s your name?”
The weapon seemed so close and a cry was forming in her throat. She felt her aunt’s hand in hers, giving it a reassuring squeeze. Swallowing hard, she barely managed to whisper an answer.
“Chen. Chen Mulan...”
Mulan woke with a start and bolted upright, feeling as if she couldn’t breathe and heaving as she struggled to take in quick gulps of air. Her body was damp with cold sweat. The room was dark now, signifying that evening had fallen, and she reached out to turn on the lamp that stood on the nightstand. Swinging her legs over the edge of the bed, she sat for a moment, attempting to catch her breath. Then she stood up and stumbled to the bathroom.
Years had passed since that incident and she’d never thought of it again after that night. Nothing bad happened and after reviewing their papers and questioning them the guard left the compartment after ten minutes and never returned. But Mulan spent the rest of the ride huddled against her aunt, shaken up and holding onto her for dear life.
She turned on the cold water tap and leaned over the sink, splashing her face. After toweling herself dry, she filled one of the glasses in the bathroom and stepped back out into the room with it, flicking the bathroom light off behind her.
Shivers were still running down her spine as she took a seat on the edge of her bed again. It was just a memory of something that happened long ago; but it had left her feeling spooked and she found herself reflecting with suspicion on what she had seen that morning. What was Li Shang doing with Mr. Luo?
Maybe it wasn’t a coincidence that she ran into him on that day after all. It was possible that the company he worked for was associated with the same criminal organization as her former employer. What if Shang already knew about her and had ‘bumped into her’ on purpose? Perhaps his insistence on following her all week had nothing to do with concern after all. Worse, maybe he never went back to San Francisco last night; he might have driven away to give her a false sense of security, then backtracked and watched her check into the hotel in Palo Alto.
For all she knew he had kept an eye on the hotel in Palo Alto all night and followed her all morning; maybe he was still watching her.
Fortunately she had no time to dwell further on these musings or on the feeling of utter betrayal that it stirred up inside of her now. The clock next to the bed read seven forty-five and she had to meet Fei-pu in the park in fifteen minutes. She gulped the water down, then slipped on her shoes and threw her jacket on. Fishing in her pocket to make sure she had the key to her room with her, she grabbed her bag. As always, she’d left it unpacked; and she brought it with her now, in the event that she had to run once more and was unable to return here.
Her hotel was a couple of blocks away from the park and she made it to the meeting spot in just a few minutes. Mulan shivered, pulling her jacket tighter around her body. It wasn’t only the chill in the air that made her shiver, though. Mission Dolores Park was seedy and known to be the home of many drug dealers. It lived up to its reputation as the creepiest place to be after dark; even standing outside of the park she felt scared and vulnerable, praying that Fei-pu would arrive soon.
The neighborhood was comprised of Mexicans and Central Americans. Although she looked out of place to the residents, no one from outside of the community would think to look for her in this district, which made it a perfect hiding spot. It was for this reason that she decided to find a hotel here. And though the lodging was dubious it was also dirt cheap.
Fei-pu still hadn’t arrived when she glanced at her watch and saw that it was already eight-thirty. Either he was running late or something had happened to him. Anxiously she waited still.
A short time later a young man that she’d never seen approached her from inside of the park. He was tall and slim, with straight black hair and dark eyes, and dressed in jeans and a black T-shirt.
“Ms. Chen?”
“Yes?” she answered hesitantly.
“From Mr. Wen.”
For a moment she stared dubiously at the hand that he proffered, but then she grasped it. As they shook hands, she felt him pressing something into her hand. It was an envelope, folded in half.
“Who are you?”
“Mr. Wen gave me twenty dollars to give this to you and ask no questions.”
She took a deep breath. “Where was he?”
“The other side of the park.”
Mulan’s brow furrowed in confusion. “But he told me to meet him at this corner.”
The man shrugged then turned and walked back into the park. She considered following him in hopes that he would lead her to Fei-pu. Using her better judgment she decided to turn around and head straight back to her hotel.
Back in the relative safety of her hotel room an uneasy, ominous feeling lingered. Fei-pu had written down the meeting spot on a piece of paper; she was positive that she was waiting at the right corner. What was going on? Why did he go to a different corner and send someone else to meet her?
She sat down on the edge of the bed and unfolded the envelope. It was typical letter size and stuffed with a thick wad of folded paper. Something fell out when she unfolded the paper and upon retrieving the object from the floor she saw that it was a small key. Checking both sides of the paper that it had been wrapped in she found that there was nothing written on it except for the name and address of a bank and a number. It was a key to a safe deposit box.
Glancing at the envelope again, she noted for the first time that there was a spot of dried blood on it.
The following afternoon the newscast on television reported that a Chinese man had been found shot to death in Mission Dolores Park that morning. It was a remarkable story because the Mission District was Latin American; the police were at a loss to explain why this man would be so far from his home turf.
*******
The bus station was in another of San Francisco’s seediest neighborhoods, but it was cheap and away from Chinatown.
Mulan left the hotel where she’d been staying in the Mission District the moment she heard about Fei-pu. As another odd Chinese person in the neighborhood, it was possible that she would be pegged as being involved if anyone around was questioned by the police.
She still had in her possession the envelope that Fei-pu had passed on to her, having fished it out of the trash as soon as she heard about him. Since it had his blood on it, leaving it behind to be found would have been monumentally stupid. Now, in a hotel room close to the bus station, she dropped the envelope into an ashtray and struck a match, letting the bloody envelope burn. The room stank of cigarette smoke already and the scent of pot was everywhere in the hotel; no one would be the wiser about her burning a piece of paper.
In the morning she would go to the bank that he’d written down. Obviously the safe deposit box contained the confidential files, stolen from Mr. Luo. Hopefully there would also be some sort of note describing what Fei-pu’s intentions had been in swiping them.