Chapter Eight: A Narrow Escape from Death

After extracting the confession they needed, Du Deming dropped Kang Ning’s hand in disgust, stood up, and strode toward the door.

At that moment, Liao Wenbin called out, “Hold on, Xiao Du, don’t be so hasty. Go next door to the bathroom, grab a hose, and clean this place up. Old Jian, Director Huang, you two lift this bastard up. I’ll strip him, rinse him thoroughly, then dress him again. We need to do a proper job, or when the prosecutors come tomorrow, we’ll have trouble explaining ourselves!”

The men busied themselves. When the naked Kang Ning had been blasted by the high-pressure hose, there wasn’t a patch of undamaged skin left on his body, not even the size of a palm. Even his rectum had been forced two inches outside his body.

Huang Yan, cursing, told Du Deming to move the hose away. He picked up a short police baton from the corner and rammed the rectum back inside, clicking his tongue in grim admiration. “This wild brat’s got a tough body. In my eighteen years on the force, I’ve never seen a bone this hard.”

Liao Wenbin also remarked, “Indeed! The man’s clever too. As soon as we started our questioning, he realized something was wrong. After that, no matter how we pressed him, he didn’t utter a word. My arms are cramping, my whole body’s sore. Prisoners like this are rare. Well—he’s just unlucky, that’s all.”

At this, Huang Yan grew uneasy. “Old Liao, Zhang Jianhan from the Major Crimes Unit is this brat’s sworn brother. We all know what kind of man Zhang Jianhan is. If he sees this, there’ll be hell to pay.”

The mention of Zhang Jianhan made everyone blanch. He was the kind of man who feared no one. Whether in skill, strength, or character, he commanded the respect of nearly the entire Criminal Investigation Division. The most frightening thing was that Zhang, with his elite education, knew exactly how to torment people without ever leaving evidence behind. If he bore you a grudge, there would be no peace for you, ever.

Jian Jincheng thought for a moment and said, “It’s fine. Zhang Jianhan was sent by the chief to escort a prisoner to Guilin this afternoon. But I suspect someone inside will tip him off. I heard Zhang and this boy grew up in the same housing compound. Zhang’s father died in Vietnam when he was two, and Professor Kang from the medical academy raised him as his own. We all know what that means.”

“Here’s what we’ll do—handcuff him to a water pipe in the washroom and send him to the detention center first thing in the morning. Once he’s inside, it’s no longer our concern,” Du Deming, who had once suffered at Zhang Jianhan’s hands, suggested. “We still need to clean this place up anyway. If he dies in the interrogation room, we’ll be in real trouble.”

After a brief discussion, the others agreed. They dressed the unconscious Kang Ning in black track pants and a white T-shirt, lifted him by hands and feet, and carried him to the space between the washroom door and the sink. Huang Yan took out his handcuffs and locked Kang Ning’s wrists around a thick water pipe. He stood up, panting.

“Remember to post a guard,” Jian Jincheng solemnly instructed Huang Yan. “Once the detention center is ready, bring him over immediately. We can’t afford the slightest slip-up. Also, don’t leave too many people around the precinct tonight. We might need to move him at two or three in the morning.”

“Understood!” Huang Yan replied crisply.

Around one in the morning, Kang Ning began to regain consciousness. Still half-dazed, he groaned softly. Suddenly, he sensed someone crouched beside him. Just as he tried to open his eyes, a low voice whispered in his ear, “Listen, kid. The guard at the door is drunk. In a moment, put on his uniform, go downstairs—there’s a Liumei police car parked behind the steps. The key’s in the ignition. Whether you escape or not is up to fate.”

Kang Ning forced his eyes open, but in the dim light, the shadowy figure had already vanished. Gripping the water pipe, he struggled for a long while before he managed, trembling, to stand. The agony in his muscles and joints struck like a tidal wave, and a fierce dizziness nearly made him collapse again.

Shaking all over, Kang Ning leaned against the wall, gasping for breath. He knew this was his one chance at survival; if he lost it, there would be no return. So he bit down hard on his tongue, the rush of blood and pain shocking him awake. Then, step by step, he walked to the dozing guard slumped in a chair by the door, took the short-sleeved police uniform draped over him, and quickly put it on. As he buttoned it, he nervously surveyed the corridor and the stairwell, barefoot, and staggered towards the stairs.

After a dozen steps, the pain began to lessen and his stride grew steadier. As he neared the stairs, he realized he would have to pass a window lit from within and an open doorway, from which the raucous shouts of men playing cards spilled out. Kang Ning paused, thinking fast. After a few seconds, he drew a deep breath and strode past the door, gritting his teeth as he quickened his pace down the stairs.

In the room nearest the stairwell on the second floor, a policeman facing the door glimpsed a shadow flicker past. He held a card in one hand, removed a cigarette from his lips with the other, and spat, “Damn it, Old Chen isn’t even watching the prisoner. Where’s he going?”

“Bullshit. He’s so drunk he can barely see his cards, let alone go anywhere. Old Qin, play your hand!” sneered a shirtless young man opposite him.

Just then, the rasp of an engine came from below, followed by the sound of a mini-vehicle pulling out of the courtyard. Old Chen, ever vigilant, sensed something amiss. He dropped his cards and rushed out; by the time he reached the door, the car was already turning out of sight beyond the gates.

Old Chen raced to the washroom. The prisoner who had lain by the door—Kang Ning—was gone, handcuffs and all. Stunned, he spun around and shouted to the three men following him, “Quick! I’ll go upstairs and report to Director Huang, you get after that car!”

When Huang Yan heard the news, he was panic-stricken. He immediately issued a string of orders to mobilize the pursuit and told his assistant to call every officer back to the precinct. Then, trembling, he dialed his superior, Jiang Shangwu.

“Who is it? Do you know what time it is?” Jiang’s voice grumbled with irritation through the receiver.

“Chief, it’s Huang Yan. I deserve to die—Kang Ning has escaped,” Huang Yan groaned in anguish.

“What? Say that again!”

“Kang Ning just escaped in one of our Liumei police cars. I’ve already sent men after him. We’re still investigating the specifics, Chief—”

“You son of a bitch, Huang Yan! If you don’t get him back, I’ll have your head! Bang!”

Huang Yan stood frozen, the dial tone droning in his ear, sweat pouring down his face.