The Foo Sheng Key (2013), page 16
Jongba stood on the bank laughing. “I do believe you’re getting soft.”
Jai leaped out of the stream and Jongba threw him the towel. Jai caught it and began drying himself, still keeping up the dance. Finally, he stood towelling his hair and looked across at Jongba with a serious face.
“What is going to happen to me?”
Jongba gave him an encouraging smile. “For the next couple of days you’re going to rest up here.”
Jai finished towelling himself in silence.
“Jongba?”
“Yes, Jai.”
“Why have I not heard from my mother? Why did she not stop it?”
"Jai, you have to understand, things have changed. You no longer have your mother's protection."
"But my mother is an important person, what could have happened to her?"
"I don't know."
"What will I do?"
Jongba put his hands on the boy’s shoulders. "Now listen to me. Your mother had a plan. If anything happened that put you at risk, I would put that plan into action.”
Jai looked up at the monk, not sure what he was saying.
“I’ve contacted the resistance movement,” Jongba continued. “They have agreed to smuggle you across the border into India."
"India, what will I do in India? Are you sending me to his Holiness, the Dalai Lama?"
Jongba smiled. "No Jai, that would probably not be a good idea. There is far too much attention around his Holiness for you to remain unnoticed."
"So what will I do?"
"You will go to your father in America."
Jai stepped into another dimension. As if the present was running off in front of him and he was desperately trying to catch it. But it was like trying to run through deep snow. Eventually Jongba’s words crystallised in his head. It was strange, he never thought of himself as having a father. His mother never spoke of him. He remembered once, a long time ago, he had asked about him, but there was such pain in her eyes he did not ask again.
"I will not go to America,” Jai said, trying to shake himself awake. “I want to stay here with you."
"Now Jai, I know this is difficult for you. Your whole world has changed in such a short time. But believe me, this is the best thing for you. And it’s what your mother wants.”
“Why is she not here? I want to see her.”
“Jai, we’re trying to contact her, but until we do, I’m responsible for you, and I’m doing what she asked me to do.” Jongba gave Jai’s shoulder a squeeze. “The resistance movement will take a few days to get here, so you can take that time to just settle and rest. I know things have been crazy, and the most terrible things have happened. But now you need to take some time for some calm contemplation. Tomorrow things will be much clearer for you.”
"I do not want to wait until tomorrow. I do not want to go to America. I just want to go home." Jai stood rigid, with his fists clenched by his sides and tears streaming down his face.
Jongba leaned forward, still gripping the boy’s shoulders, and looked directly into his eyes. "Listen to me Jai, you can't go home. That home you knew, it doesn’t exist anymore."
Xigaze Province, Tibet Autonomous Region
The helicopter was a Russian designed, Chinese built, Mi-17, specially adapted for the conditions found in the Tibet Autonomous Region. The aircraft settled like a huge green bug on the flat area not far from the monastery. A military jeep with a green canvas top screeched to a halt as the helicopters rotors began to run down.
Colonel Feng stepped down from the aircraft, its rotors still spinning. A military transport had taken him to Lhasa and the helicopter had brought him from there. He was dressed in his People’s Armed Police, olive green uniform, in perfect pressed condition. His knee length leather boots were buffed to a parade ground shine. In the hour before the transport plane left he had made sure he was ready to make the entrance that he wanted.
A man in dusty battlefield fatigues hurried forward. “Colonel Feng, welcome. I am Captain Yao, commanding officer of the Xigaze Province PAP Outpost.”
Feng ignored the captain’s outstretched hand.
“Assemble your men, immediately.”
The captain put his proffered hand to his side and came to attention. “Of course Colonel, immediately.”
Ten minutes later they stood at the main gate of the gompa, a group of twenty men assembled in neat lines, the captain standing before them.
“Colonel Feng, sir, all men present and correct and awaiting your orders.”
Feng looked out on the assembled men then pointed a finger directly at Yao. “You, on your knees.”
“Sir, I do not understand.”
Feng unfastened the cover on his pistol holster. “On your knees now, or I will shoot you where you stand.”
Yao had gone white, he stumbled down onto his knees. Feng ignored him and walked before the men, his hands clasped behind his back.
“Officers of the People’s Armed Police Force, I am sure that being out here in this wilderness, far from your home base and your families, you often believe that the world has forgotten you, that the great Chinese people have abandoned you. But that is not true. You are important to the future of mother China, and in the reintegration of our Tibetan brothers back into our family. You have an important task to perform, and here, just as if you were parading in Tienanmen Square, the Chinese people demand the highest standards, the greatest levels of performance. They will tolerate nothing less. The greatest discipline that must be adhered to at all times is to follow orders to the letter, exactly as they are delivered to you. The consequences of not doing that are severe, and you, as officers in the P.A.P would expect nothing less.”
Feng stopped his pacing, coming to a halt between the men and the kneeling Captain Yao, who despite being on his knees in the dirt, held his upper body to strict military attention, his arms by his sides, his hands clenched in tight fists and his stare rigidly forward.
“It is with that strict discipline in mind that I carry out the orders given to me.” He pulled out his pistol from the holster at his waist and shot Yao in the back of the head.
Before the men could react, he replaced the pistol in his holster and continued. “That is the consequence of failure - failure to follow orders. So let me remind you again. We are looking for a twelve year old boy, a novice monk from this monastery. I want every house within ten miles of this place searched. I want everyone questioned and I want it done now. Someone knows him, someone has seen him. Someone knows where he has gone. Get out there bring me back the information I need. The man who brings me the boy will be stationed back in Beijing by the end of the week.”
Feng looked at a young fresh faced Lieutenant standing at the end of the line.
“You, what is your name?”
The young Lieutenant pushed himself to even tighter attention. “Lieutenant Chung, Colonel, Sir.”
“Well Chung, this is your lucky day, you are promoted to Captain, take over.” Feng looked down at the fallen body of Captain Yao. “I wish you more success than him. Now bury him and send his family the bill for the bullet.”
Feng climbed into the jeep. Victor Ho had told him to make an impression. He hoped he would be impressed.
Dorje Gompa, Tibet Autonomous Region
“I wish it could be like this forever,” Jai said looking out at a blue, cloudless sky, with the valley spread out far below. For a brief moment it seemed like his problems were a million miles away.
They had wandered lower down the mountain where the snow had already melted. Lhakpa stopped from time to time to point out roots and fungi that were good to eat, and herbs for flavouring a stew or making a herbal tea when you had a fever. The two of them sat in the grass, lazing in the sunshine.
Lhakpa, despite his size, spoke in a soft, low voice. “The Lord Buddha teaches us that life is impermanent, that everything changes.”
“But why?”
Lhakpa shook his head. “Jai, always the questions. Because the Lord Buddha knows, he is enlightened, he is wisdom.”
“It does not seem right to me.”
“You are young, you have taken but a single step along the path of life, like the smallest drop in the greatest ocean, an insignificant distance on your eternal journey.”
“I still do not understand.” Jai was struggling to keep the good feeling going.
Lhakpa gave him a serious look. “Jai, that is the way things are. And so it is for me. I agreed to bring you here, and now you are safe with your friends. It is time for me to leave.”
Jai sat up. “Lhakpa no, why?”
Lhakpa’s face creased in a big grin. “Again, the questions. I have to leave because my uncle needs my help. I was on my way to see him when you presented me with your little detour. But now I have to continue to my Uncle’s place. He lives in Urdong province over in Kham. He is the keeper of the largest herd of yaks in the whole of the province.”
“He must be very wealthy.” Jai was starting to be intrigued.
“Wealthy? No. I used the word keeper, because no one owns a yak. A yak is a free spirit, able to do as it wishes. The keeper takes care of them, makes sure they come to no harm. In return he takes the milk, uses the dung on the fire to keep his family warm in the winter. Occasionally a Yak gives its life on the point of the herdsman's blade so that his family can eat, and they use its skin for clothing to keep them warm. It is an agreement they have.”
Jai was convinced the big Khampa was telling the truth.
"My uncle had an accident. Ondu, his biggest bull, trod on him and broke his leg. I swear that is the dumbest, clumsiest yak I have ever met. I am sure it is my cousin Ando, reincarnated.” Lhakpa shook his head. “For Ando, believe me it is a step up. Now he was the clumsiest person I ever knew. When we were boys, we used to go out trekking across the vast plain of Kham. You have to see it. It stretches as far as the eye can see. A man can walk for three days without crossing it.” Lhakpa looked out into the distance as if he could see the vast plain running out before him. “One day we were trekking and Ando stepped into a hole. It was probably the only hole for miles. But Ando had to step in it. And that was it, he was gone. The hole was so deep, I dropped in a stone and did not hear it land. So the deities took Ando.” Lhakpa slowly shook his head. “I still miss him."
Jai’s shoulders slumped, his eyes fixed on the ground.
"When will you leave?”
“As soon as it gets dark.”
“So soon?”
Lhakpa climbed to his feet. “Come, we should get back.”
Jai looked up at the big Khampa, with his fierce looks and deadly weapons. “Lhakpa, I have known you barely two days and already I feel like we have been friends for ever."
Lhakpa smiled through his thick black beard. "We will be friends forever, in this life and the next, and the one after that. Do not worry, we will meet again. You just have to recognise me when you see me.” Lhakpa grinned. “I might be that dirty old yak you meet on the road."
Jai followed him back up the hill to the gompa. If bad experiences in life were put there to learn from, what was he meant to learn from this? That life was really about being unhappy? He remembered all of his lessons and the one word that his teachers kept on telling him - impermanence, he was always being told about impermanence. Life was about impermanence. He hated impermanence. Why did everything have to change? Why could nothing ever stay the same?
Xigaze Province, Tibet Autonomous Region
Two army trucks roared into the deserted village square and screeched to a halt. Troops scrambled out and lined up in neat lines. Moments later a jeep appeared around the corner and braked to a stop in front of the men. Colonel Feng climbed out and the newly promoted captain stepped forward and saluted him.
"Colonel Feng, the men are set and ready to go."
Feng stood with his hands behind his back and surveyed the troops in front of him. "You all have your orders. Every man knows what he must do. I will not accept any failure. Now go."
The men immediately broke up into small groups and took off down the narrow streets that ran off in different directions from the main square. Each group chose one of the many crumbling cottages that lined the streets. In each case one man stepped forward and hammered on the door with their rifle butt, then without waiting for a reply, the other members of the group kicked open the door and rushed inside.
Feng watched them begin their task then turned to the young garrison commander. "Captain, I want every man and woman you have on this search, every single member of your garrison. I do not care whether they are cooks, or clerks. I want every one of them out there looking."
“Yes sir.” The captain clicked his heels to attention.
Feng watched as the men started dragging peasants out of the tumbledown shacks. He saw the grime, the hopelessness and the fear, etched deeply into their faces. Two men emerged herding an old man and woman in front of them. The woman had that look, as if she had been born old. Her eyes focused on Feng. A distant memory flicked into his mind. Another old woman, just as worn down and defeated. The thought made him shiver, as if someone had walked over his grave. A glimpse of something he usually kept at a safe distance. He turned away and climbed back into the jeep.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Washington, D.C.
The Boeing 747, designated Air Force 2 from the presidential fleet, touched down with barely a squeal and settled gently onto the runway. Joseph Thornton looked out on the grey Maryland morning. The weather matched his mood.
The challenge in the Middle East was bad enough. The President was desperate to end his second term with a lasting legacy. In the President’s own words, he had chosen this as the battlefield, and he had chosen Thornton as his general. Thornton understood the military analogy very well. In his own thirty five year distinguished career in the US Army, retiring as Major General, he distinguished himself on the battlefield on a number of occasions. He had joined the President’s security advisory staff and had quickly risen to become his National Security Adviser.
He was often seen as the man responsible for all the President’s major foreign policy successes. When the President had secured his second term with a landslide victory, Thornton had been appointed as his Secretary of State. A job he loved. Well, most days. Today wasn't one of them.
The press had “GI Joe” as the odds on favourite to take the presidential nomination when his boss stepped down at the end of this term. Thornton hadn’t yet declared his intention to run. It was days like this when he questioned whether he really wanted to.
He looked down at the small glass vial in his hand. It would only take something like this to ignite the fire bomb that was sitting, simmering out there, and set the whole world ablaze. He slipped it into his pocket as the aircraft came to a halt and made his way to the front of the aircraft. He thanked the cabin staff and also the two pilots, then made his way down the exit steps. A presidential staff limousine stood waiting on the tarmac. The limousine driver held open the back door and Thornton climbed inside.
"William,” he said, addressing the man already seated on the voluminous back seat. “I hope I didn't drag you out of bed."
The man was slim, with grey thinning hair and neat gold rimmed glasses. He wore an immaculate charcoal grey suit and a red silk tie, knotted neatly at the collar of a crisp white shirt. Colonel William H. Crawford gave Thornton a thin smile, the kind where the lips did but the eyes didn’t.
"You know me, sir, up at 5:30 every morning, always have done.”
Crawford was head of the National Bio-terrorism Defence Division of Homeland Security and Special Adviser to the Secretary of Defence.
Thornton and Crawford went back a long way. Not something that bound them together. Thornton always thought Crawford had the look of a weasel. He also knew from experience he was twice as deadly. He would have liked to give this task to someone else but protocol dictated it should be Crawford.
He took the vial from his pocket and held it up for Crawford to see. "I need your people to take a look at this."
Crawford reached for the glass container.
"Tell them to take extra special care with it." Thornton warned.
"And what would the Secretary of State be doing with something like this?"
Thornton gave Crawford an unblinking stare. "Trying to avoid a global disaster."
Delhi, India
Captain McVay lowered the 300,000 pound C-17 gently on to the tarmac at the military airbase in Delhi, India, seventeen hours after leaving Travis airbase. The aircraft taxied into the parking area and came to a halt, Shelby stood up, trying to stretch the knots out of his aching back. He made his way to the front of the aircraft, just as the main door opened, and a number of personnel stepped on board. He hung back while the crew signed off all the paperwork, and eventually the visitors started to leave.
McVay, considering he had flown the aircraft half way around the world, looked fresh as a daisy.
“Thank you, John. I really appreciate it.” Shelby held out his hand.
McVay took it and smiled. “No problem, my friend. Father Paul is a very special person. It was my pleasure.” He looked across to one of the visitors. “Hey Bob, this is the guy I was telling you about. Major Robert Shelby,” he winked at Shelby. “Retired.”
The man moved over and shook Shelby’s hand.
“Bob here will help you get all your immigration paperwork sorted out.” McVay continued.
“Thanks,” said Shelby.
"No problem,” said the man called Bob. “Leave it to me. You can bunk down across the street there.” He pointed out through the open door to a low wooden building, painted in army green at the far end of the tarmac. “See the guy on the door, he'll sort you out, just show him your ID.”
Shelby grabbed his bag and clambered down the aircraft steps. The smell of the jet fuel brought back a heap of memories. He wandered across the tarmac and showed his ID to the guy on the door, who allocated him a bunk, and gave him a towel and a wash bag.
