The Beijing Streakers

All of them had shaved off their body hair, and the square's lights gleamed off their bare flesh. The women's breasts and men's penises were shaking in the cold wind. If almost two decades of changing in locker rooms and being an international celebrity hadn't long ago eroded Cat's modesty, she knew she would be embarrassed as hell.

At least the crowd isn't jeering at us that much, she noted. I hear a few shouts, but they sound more like cheers than catcalls. Most of the people are quiet. They're just staring, or looking away and trying not to make a big deal of it. Perhaps the TV viewers around the world are jeering at us, but I'm not hearing that here. Thank goodness.

Come on, Cat told herself. I should be feeling good about this. Exposing myself excites me, most of the time. Yes, I usually just do it with people I know are my friends. Yes, this is crazy. Still, if you're doing it, you might as well love it. She raised her arms above her head and screamed.

Caught up in the heat of the moment, Cat began shouting slogans along with Heather. The other athletes soon joined in. Stephanie gave an upraised middle finger to a gigantic picture of Chairman Mao they were running past. Heather did the same and yelled, "Quit endorsing genocide!" The legendary Communist's expression did not change.

"Give freedom to the Chinese people!" Heather shouted at a group of shocked-looking men in government uniforms. "Stop killing their babies!Let your press speak the truth! Free all political prisoners! No more torture! No more!"

She shook her head and ran on, occasionally yelling another slogan when she found the breath. The others followed her lead, and soon random people in the crowd had picked up the chant. Their message passed on, the athletes turned their focus back to completing the run. Only Heather continued shouting every now and then. "Free Tibet!" she cried. "Let Taiwan have independence! All Chinese deserve equal human rights!"

"Hey!" Michael cautioned Heather. "Save some of that energy for running, okay?" The American star was breathing heavily, sweat dripping off his body and soaking his mask.

Cat and the others were sweating, too. We're all used to running, she thought, but not on concrete. We're not used to running naked either. I know in the original Olympics the athletes performed nude, but in modern enlightened times we get uniforms. I think, after this, I prefer it that way. Yes, I'm wet right now, and my nipples are hard, but that's more the local temperature than it is the situation. I've seen everyone around me naked before, and they've seen me. I've had Michael's cock. I know it gets much bigger than it is now when he's turned on. Eamon's is the same. Not even five good-looking naked women can get them hard right now. They're too worried about our current situation. They can't believe we're doing this and neither can I.

"One can only imagine who these athletes are," NBC reporter Sun Ren was saying over the loudspeakers positioned around the square, "and what they are feeling at this moment. They seem to have no fear, or indeed any emotion other than courage and enthusiasm. They are crossing Tianmen Square from north to south, along a path that the crowds have opened. Athletes used the same path to reach the Beijing Olympic Stadium just a few hours ago during the closing ceremonies. Currently, the streakers are about halfway across the square."

Will we make it all the way? Cat wondered. Will we even get out of this alive? The last time an event this shocking happened in Tianmen Square was about twenty years ago. China's young democrats rioted against the government, and several hundred people were killed. I remember watching the news reports when I was a child. God, why did I agree to do this? I assured Cat Two, Jennie, and the others who told us we were crazy that we'd come back alive.

Heather said no one would ever know it was us who did this. "We'll all be out of Beijing by the day after tomorrow," she had said, "and it will be good to be gone." Sanya had added that she believed the Chinese government wouldn't even seriously investigate the incident. I hope you're right, Cat thought, breathing heavily. I really hope you're right.

"Okay," Ren said, still using the Olympics' official language of English despite the fact that many of the people in the square probably didn't speak it. "I have just been handed a statement to read by NBC's Chinese government liaison. The People's Republic of China officially condemns the seven streaking athletes and calls their display 'the height of indecency.' The athletes are instructed to stop running and give themselves up for arrest."

"No way!" Heather replied at high volume. Shelly and Stephanie shared her determination and echoed the cry. Cat kept her mouth shut, as did Eamon, Sanya, and Michael. They all kept running, though, knowing they had to get to their escape route very quickly now.

"If the athletes give themselves up," Ren continued reading the statement, "they will be escorted into a military car that is now moving to keep pace with them. They will be returned to the Olympic Village, and given clothing with which to cover themselves. They will not be required to reveal their identities, as the Chinese government desires a peaceful end to the Olympic Games.

"In accordance with that desire, all television networks have been asked to cease coverage of the streaking as of now. NBC is complying with this demand. All in Tianmen Square, the Chinese government asks that you please turn your attention away from the streaking athletes and back towards the giant display screen on the west wall of the Great Hall of the People. We are rebroadcasting the Olympics highlight reel which we showed a few minutes ago."

The NBC helicopter moved away from the athletes, and so did nearly all of the news cameras in the surrounding area. The crowd, however, for the most part did not follow their government's request. Their eyes remained on Cat and her fellow runners.

Their voices were silent except for the occasional cry of a slogan Heather had earlier voiced.

Cat checked the GPS odometer strapped around her right wrist. We're about three quarters of the way across the square, she noted, and we've been running almost ten minutes. The government responded to this stunt pretty quickly. They must have had a contingency plan in case someone started a protest tonight. I know we could be doing a better pace than this. It's time to start.

She grimaced under her mask and looked at her comrades. All were panting heavily and looking warily around. Eamon was stumbling a bit, the many injuries he had sustained throughout his career catching up with him.

Stephanie stopped beside her ex-boyfriend and supported him, telling him with her eyes that they were going to be fine. Eamon nodded and waved her away. Some of the crowd was yelling at them now. Cat also called out to the pair and urged them to come on. She could see a blue Humvee approaching from the east. A stoic-faced Chinese People's Liberation Army soldier in a white helmet was behind the wheel, and people were quickly stepping out of the vehicle's path.

"We have to go, guys!" Sanya said, waving at Eamon and Stephanie. She was stumbling too, one hand massaging her right hamstring. Then Sanya clenched her fists and ran on. The Australian pair, inspired by this display of persistence, also resumed their run.

Cat quickened her pace as well, with Heather just behind her and Michael and Shelly at her sides. She glanced back at the Humvee. It was being slowed by the crowd, but catching up to them. She looked around and saw several more Chinese soldiers and policemen in the crowd, but none stood in the athletes' way. Apparently, nobody wanted to be the one who told them to stop.

"You think we'll make it to Qianmen Gate?" Sanya asked Cat, falling back beside her friend. The south gate of the square was where Jennie was supposed to meet them with a van.

Cat shook her head. "They probably have it blocked off by now. Plan B?"

"Yeah," Sanya agreed, looking ahead to a police roadblock that was being set up near Qianmen Gate to stop them. She knew from one glance they would not be able to pass it. "Plan B, everyone!" the American runner shouted. As one, the group turned right into the crowd. People gasped and scrambled to clear a lane.

"Damn!" Michael said to Cat as they separated to weave around an old lady. "You think they'll keep their promise not to identify us?"

"Do you want to find out?" Cat asked him. The other athlete shook his head.

"This is so exciting," Shelly declared. "I thought my hundred meter was good, but this—"

"Can we discuss it after we get out of here alive?" Sanya asked Shelly. The Jamaican runner nodded in apology and increased her pace.

"Get out of our way!" Heather shouted at the crowd. "Get out of our way, please! Excuse us!" Eamon repeated the requests in Mandarin and Stephanie in Cantonese. Hundreds of people were quick to comply. Others standing in the crowd continued to cheer on the athletes. Cat noticed several young people were holding up I-Pods and radios with theme music from the film "Run Lola Run" playing loud.

"Attention, streaking athletes!" a high-pitched voice called out to them. Cat looked over her shoulder and saw it was coming from the Humvee's loudspeaker. "This is Colonel Sima Yi of the People's Liberation Army! I order you to stop at once and surrender! We promise to go easy on you! You will be returned to the Olympic Village unidentified and unharmed!"

"I think they're as shocked we're doing this as we are," Eamon said.

Stephanie nodded in agreement. Of all the athletes, she looked the most composed. She's casting her mind back to those racy underwear ads she and Eamon did back when they were dating, Cat thought. Or maybe that "For Him Magazine" shoot she did. Heather's also done one of those. The magazine asked me too, but I turned them down. I wonder if any magazine will want to take pictures of us again if they find out we did this.

"Remind me," Stephanie said to Sanya. "What is Plan B?"

Sanya took a breath before answering. "Just follow my lead."

Plan B, Cat remembered. We escape out of the Square to the west, and cross Zhen Meng Bridge. Then we run through the nearby alleys and try to get to the Fu Ching Road subway station. Sanya and Heather scouted the route yesterday. I'd better page Jennie to let her know we're headed that way. She pressed a button on her GPS odometer and keyed the built in emergency beacon. Jennie had the device's receiver and would know what the signal meant.

The crowd was still parting for them, but now police were closing in and forming an obvious dragnet. Maybe we should split up, Cat thought. Then she remembered their plan didn't call for that. Jennie was their only escape contact. If they split up, they would all have to fend for themselves in procuring clothes and getting back to the Olympic Village. That would not do. Maybe we should have planned this better, Cat told herself with a sigh.

"Attention, streaking athletes!" Colonel Sima called out. "I have been authorized to use nonlethal force to apprehend you! Please surrender! I have no wish to do you harm!"

"Go ahead and shoot us, you coward!" Heather yelled. "I'm not afraid!"

"Hea—!" Cat stopped herself from using her friend's name just in time. "It's not a good idea to taunt these guys!"

"Sorry, I couldn't resist," Heather said with a shrug. Cat sighed in exasperation.

"If we end up in jail because of this," Shelly told Heather with a pointed finger, "I am having my Auntie put a voodoo curse on you!"

Cat looked around them. Chinese police officers and soldiers were lining up, with several holding shotguns, rifles, Tasers, and riot batons. A few people in the crowd were getting unruly and moving to block the PLA troops.

Good, Cat thought. We can use that. I'm still worried, though. What if they start shooting? I've never had a real gun pointed at me. Maybe we should have asked one of the Army Rangers from the US rifle team to come along. They would probably have a good evasion plan. The way things are... Oh shit! She had just spotted a new danger lurching out of the crowd, one with which she was all too familiar.

The biggest Chinese man Cat had ever seen was unsteadily stepping into their path. He was over six feet tall and rippling with muscle. The man was hairy too, especially around his face, which reminded Cat of a growling Bengal tiger. The man was dressed in a green shirt and black pants and had a red scarf tied around his head. In one hand he carried a long pole topped with a curved blade. It looked like some kind of tool for cutting tree limbs. In his other hand was a large wine bottle. Judging from his gait and the way he was mumbling, the man had been imbibing from the bottle quite a bit.

"Drunk!" Cat warned her comrades. "One o'clock!" The athletes quickly swerved around and ran past the man. Michael and Heather fanned themselves at his smell. The drunk looked at them and raised an eyebrow, then stuck the bottle in his belt and began following the athletes. Cat was surprised at how close he was staying behind them as they crossed Tianmen Square.

"Is that guy one of the Chinese wrestlers?" Stephanie asked Sanya. "He looks sort of familiar."

"He's not any wrestler I know," Sanya replied. "None of them have that much hair."

Cat didn't care who the man was. She just wanted to get away from him. They were almost out of the square now. Police and soldiers trying to get in their way kept being intercepted by young Beijing citizens shouting encouragement at the athletes even as they played their I-Pods. One plain-featured young man stepped right in front of Colonel Sima's Humvee, as though it were a tank from the famous scene that had taken place in Tianmen Square nearly twenty years ago.

The colonel's driver stopped just short of hitting the young man. He gaped and sounded his vehicle's horn. The young man did not move or even blink. Sima's driver sounded his horn again, then backed up and turned around when the young man still did not move. The athletes continued running through the crowds, and soon found themselves on the streets of Beijing with an unobstructed path ahead.

"Thank you!" Heather called out to the people as they left Tianmen Square behind. Cat resisted shouting her own thanks. She looked ahead of them towards Zhen Meng Bridge, a narrow span of wood and stone crossing Beijing's great Hai River. Cat was surprised to find it deserted. Michael and Sanya led the other athletes onto the bridge, urging them to keep up their pace.

Cat, last to cross, looked at the drunk who'd been following them. He nodded, then stopped and gave her a grin. Cat saw a weird look in his eyes and wondered if he was going to attack her. Then she saw him make an odd hand gesture and felt her heart skip in relief.

This guy's part of the Friendship secret society, Cat realized, like me and most of my swingers group. I remember Heather said she was going to tell the local chapter about our stunt, in case they wanted to support us. But why did they send help in the form of a big hairy drunk guy?

"Keep going!" the drunk told her. "The Cobra Pike and I will guard this bridge!"

"Cobra Pike?" Cat repeated. She realized the drunk had to mean his weapon, and a second intuitive leap gave her the reason why the man was familiar. Someone in the Beijing Friendship is big on acting out Chinese history, Cat thought, laughing to herself.

"Keep running, everyone!" she ordered her comrades. "Zhang Fei's going to hold back our pursuers!"

"Zhang who?" Michael asked, perplexed. Then he jumped as the drunk slammed his foot on the bridge, shaking the ground. The athletes all stopped in their tracks with surprise.

Cat looked back and saw that the drunk was now standing in the center of the bridge, his pole weapon held ready for combat. The Chinese soldiers and police had pushed past Tianmen Square's crowds and gotten onto the street behind Cat's group, but all stopped upon reaching Zhen Meng Bridge and the human barrier blocking it. None dared to move closer. Several of the troops looked worried as they stared at the huge man in their way, their eyebrows raised in surprise. The drunk smiled at the soldiers and said something that sounded like a challenge. It was in Mandarin, so Cat couldn't understand the exact words. He ended the statement with a great shout that echoed through the air. Several PLA privates heard it and took a step back.

"Blimey!" Eamon gasped. "Who is that guy?"

"Do you remember that John Woo movie we saw last week?" Cat asked.

Eamon nodded. "Yeah. 'Red Cliff'."

"That guy looks just like the character Zhang Fei," Cat said. "He was in the opening action. He blocked the bridge and stopped the entire enemy army by himself while his friends escaped."

"This ain't a movie, Cat," said Shelly.

Cat shrugged. "Well, maybe he's a local fanboy."

"A dumb fanboy!" snapped Sanya. "Doesn't he know the enemy army didn't have guns in the movie?"

"Keep running, guys!" yelled Heather. "He can't stop them forever!" She turned and dashed down the street. The other athletes hurried to catch up. Behind them, the soldiers yelled orders at Zhang Fei, who laughed and waved his weapon in response.

"Whoever that person was," Heather said as they ran, "I'm glad for his help."

"Me too," Eamon said, "but we shouldn't have just left him there."

Cat shook her head. "We didn't have time," she said. She looked ahead towards a nearby alley. "Whoa!" Two Chinese men on horseback were standing in front of the alley, waving at their party with long spears.

One was a tall handsome youth with long black hair, Cat noted. He was dressed in a blue and white suit of cotton armor and sat astride a gray mare. The other man wore dark green robes and rode a red stallion. A very long dark beard covered his face. "This way, friends!" the first man called and brandished his weapon aloft.

He's dressed as Zhao Yun, Cat realized. Along with Zhang Fei, Zhao Yun was a famous general in China during the late second and early third centuries. During those years, China was split into three kingdoms that battled each other and various independent lords for control of the land. Cat also recognized Zhao Yun's companion. He was dressed as Guan Yu, a mighty and noble general of the Three Kingdoms who was in modern times worshipped as a Chinese god of war. They have every costume detail correct down to the horses, Cat marveled. I hope they're as trustworthy as they seem.

She flashed Zhang Fei's hand gesture at them to check and smiled as Guan Yu returned the gesture. Good, Cat thought with a smile. They're more mutual friends.

"It's great to see you guys!" Heather told the pair. She had also recognized their costumes and gesture. The two role-players parted to admit the athletes, who quickly ran past them and into the alley with Heather and Sanya in the lead. Zhao Yun trotted his horse alongside the runners while Guan Yu took up position behind.

"These alleys are designed like one of Lord Zhuge's Eightfold Mazes," advised Zhao Yun. "Keep running, and keep heading left unless Guan Yu or I say otherwise. When we reach Lord Zhuge's statue, head left and only left until you get back to a main street."

The athletes did as instructed, their hearts pounding. Behind them, they heard shouting in Mandarin interspersed with more of Zhang Fei's battle cries and challenges. Then there was an explosion of gunfire followed by a loud splash.

"My brother is alright," Guan Yu spoke with certainty. "He knew not to seriously harm anyone and to jump off the bridge if things got too overwhelming."

Zhao Yun nodded. "They'll be coming. The maze can delay and confuse, but it won't stop them."

"They're not gonna catch us," said Heather.