Remember (5 page)

Nicky and Clee were the first to reach the crowds of people flooding Changan, and almost instantly they were separated from each other by the swirling masses.

She had never seen anything like this in her life. What Jimmy had said was true—the citizens were blocking the army, preventing the soldiers from moving forward, literally holding them back with their bodies.

They truly were a human shield. Suddenly, she saw that they were actually pushin,g the soldiers back. And what an army it was. Kids, she thought in astonishment. They were just kids, they looked even younger than the students.

Without considering her safety, Nicky moved closer to the crowds, she had to be nearer the action. Within seconds she was surrounded by people and swept forward by the force and movement of their bodies.

Everyone was pushing and shoving, several times she swayed and almost went down. At one moment, as people pressed into her from behind, she reached out and desperately clutched at a man’s arm, he swung around angrily, but then quickly helped her to regain her balance. A young woman grabbed at her jacket as the crowd surged forward yet again, carrying everyone closer to the troops. Nicky almost fell because the Chinese woman was clinging to her with such tenacity, but somehow she managed to stay upright, and they bolstered each other. The mass of people swept on and on, and Nicky thought she would be knocked over or trampled.

At the precise moment she experienced her first flicker of panic, wondering if she was going to be crushed to death, she felt a hand grasp her elbow roughly. Half turning her head, looking over her shoulder, she saw Arch standing immediately behind her.

“Thanks,” she gasped with relief. Then she shouted above the noise, “The troops look unarmed.”

“They also look frightened to death.”

There was more pushing and shoving and angry shouting before the Beijingers surged onward en masse. They were like a huge tidal wave of immense force, and they propelled Nicky and Arch along with them.

Immediately ahead were the young soldiers, none of whom looked to be a day older than eighteen. They were being mauled and bruised and scratched as the people pushed and berated them. Nicky began to realize that the enraged citizens of the capital were

lecturing the soldiers as if they were their children. Most of the troops were milling around in total confusion, and many of them had broken down and were starting to cry.

Clinging to Arch tightly, Nicky exclaimed, “These kids don’t know what the hell this is all about!”

“I’m convinced of it,” Arch agreed, putting his arm around her waist, determined to keep her safe in this melee.

Unexpectedly, she saw Jimmy pushing his way toward them.

How he had found them in the crowds Nicky would never know. He had sprung up as if from nowhere, and as he took hold of her arm he said, “Come on, we’re getting out of this mob!”

Being ruthlessly aggressive, Jimmy and Arch managed to push Nicky and themselves through the seething mass of people until they finally staggered out onto the edge of Changan Avenue. As the three of them stood huddled together under the trees at the side of the wide boulevard, breathing sighs of relief as they straightened their clothes, Arch said, “By the looks of those kids, we weren’t in danger of being shot at, but we were in danger of being trampled to death.”

“Our best bet is to stand here and watch what’s happening from the sidelines,” Nicky said.

Astonished, Jimmy said, “Hey, that’s a new one for you, Nick, when have you ever been on the sidelines?” Not waiting for an answer, he rushed on, “But you’re right, it’s safer here. Being in the middle of that was like being in the center of—a stampede. And what an army it is—just look at em. They have camp gear, canteens and knapsacks but don’t have any weapons.” He shook his head wonderingly.

“I told you they weren’t armed, Arch,” Nicky said.

Clee joined them a few minutes later. His hair was rumpled, his jacket ripped, but otherwise he looked totally unscathed. His Nikon was slung around his neck and there was a triumphant glint in his dark eyes. “I got some great shots,” he said.

“Isn’t that a bit dangerous, showing your camera?” Jimmy asked, eyeing the Nikon. “It’s liable to get pulled off your neck and smashed.”

“Not by this bunch, they’re on my side. On our side. They want their pictures taken, they’re chanting the usual thing—tell the world, tell the world.”

“But the riot police—” Arch began and abruptly stopped. “I guess there are no police around.”

“It’s doubtful,” Clee responded. “At this moment, anyhow.”

“Maybe I should go and get our cameras, try something live with Nicky,” Jimmy suggested, looking at Arch. “We might just get away with it.”

“No, ” Arch said.

“Let’s film on the balcony later, Jimmy, as we planned. I’ll do a phone narration,” Nicky said, knowing it was hopeless to argue with Arch when he was in a cautious mood. She had been in the line of fire on battlefields and he hadn’t batted an eyelash or said anything about danger, but ever since they came to Beijing he had been issuing warnings constantly, and she couldn’t help wondering why. She would have to ask him later, now was not the time. She glanced around, her eyes seeking Luke, but he was nowhere to be seen, neither were Yoyo and Mai. They had been swallowed up by that mass of people.

Eventually, much to her relief, Luke came into view, with Yoyo and Mai beside him. Mai was limping, had obviously hurt her leg or her foot, and Yoyo was helping her.

“What happened?” Nicky asked, hurrying over to them.

“Not serious,” Yoyo said. “Man stand on Mai’s foot. She okay.”

Nicky put her arm around the Chinese girl’s shoulders, and the four of them walked over to join the others.

Luke said to Nicky, “It’s surprising the rest of us weren’t hurt.

You are okay, aren’t you, Nicky?”

“I’m fine, thanks, Luke.”

They sat down under the trees on the side of Changan Avenue to rest and cool off. In spite of the breeze, the air was warm, almost heavy, and both Nicky and Clee took off their jackets.

Arch passed around a pack of cigarettes but everyone except Yoyo declined.

Nicky leaned forward and said to Yoyo, “Did you find out anything?

Where are those troops from? What’s happening?”

Yoyo puffed on his cigarette for a second and then said, “Troops from far away. From outside Beijing. They march many hours. They told go on maneuvers. They told go stop troublemakers. They no understand.

They afraid. They young boys. People lecture them.

Tell them don’t hurt students. Soldiers don’t know this Beijing.

Don’t know where this is. They no fight, Nicky. They too scared.”

“Thank God for that, but what an anticlimax!” Nicky exclaimed.

“Where are the helicopters?” Clee asked, looking up at the night sky, then at Yoyo.

“No come now,” Yoyo said, sounding as though he knew what he was talking about. “No tear gas.”

There was a small silence, which Nicky broke when she said, “The People’s Liberation Army came to Beijing to quell the student demonstrators, and were conquered by the citizens. Not a single shot was fired.”

And several hours later that was how she began her nightly newscast to the United States.

Saturday dawned bright and sunny.

The young soldiers, still bewildered and now very dispirited, retreated down Changan Avenue, finally, in the middle of the morning.

The Beijingers returned home or went to their places of work. The students retreated to their tents and buses for much-needed sleep, and an air of calm descended over Changan Avenue and Tiananmen Square—suddenly there was a semblance of order and normality.

Nicky was convinced the tranquillity was illusory and that the situation had been contained only for a short while—a dozen or so hours at the most. The way she saw it, the Chinese government would take a hard line because it would perceive the army’s retreat as a humiliation. The officials would automatically blame the students, even though it had been ordinary citizens who had stood up to the troops and prevented them from entering the square. And they would act accordingly, with great force and violence.

After snatching a few hours of sleep, and after her broadcast was finished, she had been in and out of the square all day.

Instinctively she knew that belying the atmosphere of calm were tension and fear, and she voiced this thought to Clee as they sat in the Western Dining Room of the Beijing Hotel on Saturday afternoon.

Leaning across the table, she added, “The crackdown’s still coming.

I’m sure.”

“Me too,” Clee said, and he took a sip of his coffee. Putting the cup down, he went on in a low tone. “The government wants those kids out of the square in the worst way now. They’re losing face in the West, and they can’t stand that. I’ll tell you something

else, Nick—when it does happen, it’ll be fast. By Monday it’ll be all over, and the aftermath’s going to be pretty awful.

Arrests, trials, repression, and Christ knows what else.”

“I’m concerned about Yoyo,” Nicky confided. “He’s been in the thick of it, and he is one of the leaders. I wish we could get him out of Beijing.”

“We can,” Clee said. “And incidentally, you just took the words right out of my mouth. I was about to tell you that I’ve been thinking about giving him money for an airline ticket to Hong Kong. We could take him along with us when we leave. He can stay there for a few days and decide what he wants to do.”

“I’ll split the price of the ticket with you.”

“You don’t have to,” he began, then seeing the determined look on her face, he finished, “Okay, it’s a deal.”

“There’s another problem.”

“What?”

“Mai. Yoyo won’t leave Beijing without Mai.”

“So we’ll give him enough for two plane tickets. I couldn’t live with myself if we left those two kids behind, and I know for sure you couldn’t, Nicky. Arch and the others will feel the same way, that it’s the least we can do.” He smiled at her. “So that’s it, then. Mai comes along as well. The more the merrier.”

Nicky looked at him. “You’re a good guy, Clee Donovan,” she said.

“So are you, Nicky Wells.” There was a little silence, and then Clee asked, “Where will you go when we leave here?”

“You mean after Hong Kong? To New York. And you?”

“Back to Paris. But I may be in New York at the end of this month.

When I spoke to the office last night, or rather, this morning, JeanClaude told me there’s an assignment in from Life magazine for me.

If I want it. And I’m thinking of taking it—I wouldn’t mind a few weeks back in the States.”

“Come on,” Nicky said, “let’s get back to the square, see what’s going on. I get nervous if I’m away for very long.”

he killing began just after ten o’clock on Saturday night.

At that time Nicky and Clee were standing with Yoyo and Mai near the Martyrs’ Monument. Arch, Jimmy and Luke were mingling with the other broadcast journalists, mostly American and British, who were assembled nearby. All were comparing notes, trying to predict what would happen next.

Nicky was speaking to Yoyo quietly, earnestly, endeavoring to be as persuasive as possible. “Please take the money, Yoyo. I know how proud you are, but this is not the moment for pride. You must be practical. Listen to me—we insist you take the three thousand dollars, it will get you and Mai out of Beijing. Clee and I think you should leave tomorrow, no matter what the situation is here.

And the money is from the five of us. We want to help you—after all, you’ve helped us. We care too much about you to let you stay.”

“Too much money,” Yoyo said. “Thank you. No.” He kept shaking his head. “You, Clee, guys very nice. Very excellent people. But can’t take money.”

“Come on, Yoyo, don’t be stubborn,” Nicky said. “Please accept it, if not for yourself, then for Mai. Think of hen-of protecting her.”

The young Chinese student shook his head again.

Wanting to make it easier for Yoyo, Clee now took charge and said firmly, “I’ll tell you what we’ll do. I’ll go and get the airline tickets for you and Mai. I’ll do it tomorrow—” “Too much money, Clee,” Yoyo said, cutting him off. He paused and there was an unexpected change in his voice when he added slowly, “Okay, I think about it—” He broke off and cocked his head, listening intently before he threw Nicky a worried glance. “Gunf re?”

“Yes,” she said and glanced quickly at Clee, they exchanged knowing looks. He took offwithout saying a word, with Nicky sprinting behind him, the story uppermost in both of their minds.

Everyone in the vicinity of the monument heard the shots, and there was a sudden rush as the correspondents, photographers and television crews raced after Clee and Nicky. Across the square they ran, heading for Changan Avenue.

On Changan Nicky lost Clee in the chaos. She saw armored vehicles and trucks moving down the wide boulevard, she noted that the troops were armed with AK-47 assault rifles. It was obvious they were making for Tiananmen, and she knew they would enter it by force if necessary.

There had been a rumor earlier that Deng had reportedly told the military commanders, “Recover the

square at all cost.” And there was no doubt in her mind that they would do exactly that.

They had already demonstrated their deadly intentions that very afternoon, at the western end of the square, close to the Great Hall of the People, thousands of soldiers had beaten up demonstrators who had tried to block their entry into Tiananmen.

As far as she and Clee had been able to determine, no shots had been fired, but there had been much violence, and at one point the troops had used tear gas. Enraged, the masses had retaliated by throwing bricks and rocks at the soldiers, in turn, the troops had used truncheons and belts in an effort to quell the protesters.

That battle had merely been the prelude to what was happening now.

Experienced as Nick and Clee were, and understanding the politics involved, they were aware that the situation could only worsen in the next twenty-four hours.

Now, suddenly, the troops who had been firing shots into the air turned their guns on the citizens and students crowding the sidewalks. Unable to believe her eyes, Nicky stood frozen as the people, howling like wounded animals, rushed forward, hurling bricks, rocks, pieces of iron pipes and primitive gasoline bombs at the troops, their anger spiraling into an immense rage. The soldiers replied by firing lethal bursts at them. People fell as they were hit by the bullets, crying out in terror.