Target nine, p.16
Target Nine, page 16
“I am your escape route,” Tamang said.
Aaron turned to Jacob and grinned. “I like this guy. Where did you get him?”
“Rent-an-Agent. I’ll pick up Jana and let’s go.”
He turned back to the room to see Jana on her feet, gathering up maps and books.
“This isn’t the time to catch up on reading.”
“I’m gathering intel.”
“Good point.”
Tamang rushed in. “I’ve cleared a path through the tunnel to the temple, but we don’t have much time. They’ll close in again.”
“Here,” Jana said, dumping some paperwork on him.
“I only have one arm! How can I shoot?”
“This is what we came for. I’ll explain later.”
Tamang looked at one of the papers. “Whoa! It sure is. How could you tell?”
“I looked at the pictures.”
Jacob shook his head in wonder. She had only just regained consciousness, and she was already analyzing ancient manuscripts.
The group hurried down the corridor back in the direction of the workshops. Half a dozen dead monks lay in their path.
“I’m going to have to start calling you the one-armed bandit,” Jacob told Tamang.
They got into the cellar and then the tunnel with no further trouble and ran down its length. Jacob worried that the monks would appear ahead or behind them and open up with their Kalashnikovs. In this confined space, there would be no way for them to miss.
They got to the turn and ascended carefully, peeking around the edge of the inside wall. Other than a couple of new dead bodies, there was no one.
“Not bad for only having one hand,” Aaron said.
“I got them from behind,” Tamang said. “They weren’t expecting me.”
“That may be true, but you’re being modest, my friend. Getting the drop on these guys is a hell of an accomplishment.”
They got to the temple and out. They paused for a moment for Jana to catch her breath. She was still rattled from getting knocked out.
Spotting a robe hanging on a peg behind the altar, she grabbed it and bundled it around the precious maps, papers, and books she’d found. Tamang dumped his own load into the robe.
"Let's go," she gasped, nearly at the end of her strength. Jacob looked at her with concern before realizing the rest of them weren't any better off. The cut from his knife wound made his back sing with pain, and he could feel blood trickling down his back.
No time to deal with that now. The monks would regroup and be on them soon.
They checked the door, were surprised the coast was clear, and hurried out, keeping an eye on the roof. The monks had a bad habit of dropping from roofs or popping out of the most unlikely places.
To Jacob’s shock, they got all the way up to the parapet and down the rope ladder on the other side without encountering the enemy. They hurried out into the darkness, desperate to find shelter where they could hide out the night and plan their next move.
CHAPTER TWENTY SIX
Jana sat by a crackling hearth and puzzled over the documents Tamang translated for her.
It had been an exhausting, nightmarish retreat through rough mountain passes buffeted by frigid winds. They moved almost blind, not daring to light their flashlights and having to rely on meager starlight to guide them.
At last, they made it back to her father’s camp, but they did not stop there. Instead, they continued down the slope another mile to a Sherpa's cabin occasionally used by herders. A stout little stone structure, it had a good supply of firewood, which they gratefully piled into the hearth.
No one would see the light of the fire with all the shutters firmly closed. Jacob and Bledshaw both needed it badly. Their coats had been cut in the monastery fight, and they were shivering and on the verge of frostbite.
Now Aaron was out in the night keeping guard while Jacob and Bledshaw patched their wounds and their coats. By the light of the fire, Tamang and Jana went through the papers they had found.
She had come to one conclusion right off.
“I’m thinking most of the monks left after they sent that numeric code over the air,” she panted. “That place was big. Why did only a few dozen come at us and not hundreds? And we saw none of the Anglos Jacob spotted through his telescope.”
Tamang nodded. “It makes sense. They would have been able to get back after the attack on the Monastery of the Sacred Lotus. They’re quick and know all the shortcuts. Plus, the military didn’t spot any of them remaining in the area. But perhaps they didn’t come back here. Perhaps they went to a rendezvous with the bulk of the people who had remained in the monastery. They’re obviously planning some big operation. The question is—what and where?”
Jana gestured at the heap of maps and papers and old volumes she’d plundered.
“Hopefully the answer is in here.”
They got back to work, Jana looking for significant images, Tamang translating, both of them trying to puzzle out unlabeled marks on several maps.
It was a long, meticulous project neither of them really had the energy for. She had held up in the excitement and cold of the retreat, but now that they were in a cozy cabin with their sleeping bags tempting them, their eyelids grew heavy and they had to struggle to stay awake.
The maps seemed to indicate troop movements and attacks, but strangely in two widely different locations. One showed activity on the outskirts of Kathmandu. The other showed activity not far to the north of their position, on the Chinese side of the border.
“Do the monks have the manpower to conduct two different operations?” Jana wondered aloud.
“Depends on the type of operations,” Tamang replied.
“Good point. Maybe these papers will give us a clue.”
The old books were hard to interpret. They were written in an old form of Tibetan, and while Tamang spoke Tibetan as well as Nepali, it was like a modern reader trying to read Chaucer. He had to read out loud, slowly enunciating each word to get its meaning and still having to guess at some of them.
They had no time for that. At least they got the gist of the books, which was on the power of the car mey and how the Royal Vajra could activate them. The activation process was all but unintelligible, a combination of prayers, religious references, and some form of mediation neither of them had ever heard of.
The books offered many distractions—long religious lectures, parables, and discussions of fine points of philosophy. The pictures were even stranger, with everything from demons to monks using magical powers to a temple made out of ice.
They also contained numerous references to the cyar mey being used not only as a power source, but also as a weapon of war.
Tamang snapped his fingers.
“If they have the Royal Vajra and can use it like the abbot used the one at the monastery, they could cause an electromagnetic pulse to short out Kathmandu’s power supply! Everyone will think the Chinese are behind it.”
“Come on, they’d need some sort of mechanism for that, like the one hidden in the Buddha statue. That would be huge, at least the size of a truck.”
Jana was guessing about that. She was no electrical engineer, and neither was anyone else in the group. There had to have been something inside that Buddha statue, although she had no idea what it would look like or how it would function.
“Who says they don’t have one waiting there?” Jacob said from his spot at the hearth.
“Another step towards World War Three,” Bledshaw said.
“I don’t think they need anything besides the Royal Vajra,” Tamang murmured.
Jana looked at him curiously. There had to be a mechanism of some sort. He knew that.
She decided they didn’t have time to debate it.
“Let’s get into these papers,” she said.
Those proved even more difficult than the old volumes. While not exactly in code, they had been written in a deliberately vague manner. The monks who needed to read these texts already knew the main gist and needed only to look at them for reference. That made them hard to figure out for outsiders.
Tamang and Jana worked deep into the night, long after Jacob and Bledshaw had curled themselves up in their sleeping bags and drifted off. Aaron remained outside on a lonely vigil.
Jana found herself wondering about him. He had spent so many years doing what he was doing tonight. He deserved a long break, perhaps a break for life.
But the world wouldn’t let him. The world wouldn’t let her, either.
She focused on the papers.
At long last, they figured out their meaning, or at least as much of their meaning as they could.
There would only be one attack, with the monks concentrating their entire force and their unnamed allies to make a definitive strike. They would use the Royal Vajra to ignite the cyar mey to deal some sort of blow at the target. While the most obvious attack would be some sort of electromagnetic pulse, the papers seemed to hint at something more than that.
There had been a discussion between which of two proposed targets would be best. Obviously, they meant Kathmandu and this region in Tibet. One was decided upon, but the papers make no mention of which.
“Time to get the rest of the team in on this,” Jana said. “We’ve learned as much as we can.”
Tamang shook Jacob and Bledshaw, who snapped awake instantly like the trained fighters they were, while Jana walked out into the night. The chill air revived her somewhat, although she still felt like she could curl up on the nearest patch of ice and sleep for twelve hours.
She let out a low whistle, three different tones that was a code she’d used with her father since she was eight.
The return signal came. A few seconds later, he appeared.
“We’ve figured it out. Sort of. Come on inside.”
They gathered around the maps and discussed what she and Tamang had worked out.
“So the question is, if they’re only going for one target, which one will they go for?” Jana said once they were done explaining everything.
Tamang tapped the map of Kathmandu. “I know the main power station for the capital and surrounding region is right about here where these markings are. And over here … ” he pulled out the map of Tibet, you can see several gorges perfect for hydroelectric plants. The Chinese have several in this region and major relay stations scattered around. They power all of Tibet. I have no idea if these markings relate to the stations, though. Neither of these maps has any manmade features on it, just the natural topography.”
Jacob rubbed his jaw. “Any electromagnetic pulse that shorted out a regional power supply would be seen as an act of war.”
“Big time,” Aaron agreed. “So which to go for? All the attacks so far have been on Nepal—the theft of the Royal Vajra, the attack on the border guards, the attack on the monastery. So it makes sense to hit Kathmandu. It fits the pattern.”
“Two out of three of your examples don’t count,” Bledshaw said. “The theft at the museum was necessary in order to bring forward the plan. The attack on the monastery was to stop us from interfering. Only the attack on the border guards was truly intended as an attack on the Nepalese state, and one event does not make a pattern.”
“He’s got a point,” Jacob said in rare agreement. “So we have to ask what the goal is here. If the attack is on Kathmandu, the Indian army might move in to ensure its own national security, setting off a diplomatic nightmare. If the attack is on China, then China might move into Nepal.”
“If the target is China, then why not attack the Chinese border guards?” Aaron pointed out.
“Border fights happen sometimes,” Jana said. “People get jumpy, a shot goes off, and things snowball. Diplomats on both sides are usually eager to smooth things over. Taking out a whole region’s power grid is on a whole other level.”
"That still doesn't answer the question of why they didn't attack the Chinese side of the border to ratchet up tensions before taking out the Chinese power grid and starting away."
Jana shrugged. “Tension got ratcheted up anyway, and with the monks coming from Nepal, it’s easier to strike the Nepalese border guards. That border post was clear on the other side of the country. Plus, the Nepalese soldiers aren’t as well trained and equipped as the Chinese troops. No offense, Tamang.”
“None taken. They are stronger than us, which is the problem. And the Indians will use it as an excuse to come on into our country.”
Jana blinked. He had never called Nepal his country before.
Jana went on.
"I'm thinking we should go after them into China and try to cut them off. We can warn the Nepalese to be on their guard, and they'll listen to us. I'm not sure we can convince the Chinese of anything at this point. Dad, you told me how they got super paranoid because of the hydroelectric dam attacks, even though they weren't on their own soil. Now, they must be doubly paranoid because of all this instability in Nepal. While I’m not convinced the target is Tibet, we have to pick one to go after and if we’re wrong, the Nepalese government has a chance to stop them. I say we go to China.”
Aaron chuckled. “Go to China. While I agree with your tactical assessment, I don’t think going to China will be as easy as all that. All the passes will be guarded on both sides of the border.”
“True. But we got to find a way.”
“Follow the monks,” Bledshaw suggested.
Jana turned to him. “I beg your pardon?”
He shrugged. “Follow the monks. They’ll go to one of the passes and take out the guards on both sides. Then they'll leave radio operators at both bases to call in, saying everything is fine while the rest of the force continues to the target. If we follow the monks' route, we’ll only have to deal with those detachments.”
Everyone looked at each other. Jacob spoke first.
“There are a lot of assumptions in that statement, but we’ve been running on assumptions this entire mission. I say we try and figure out the route they took and follow them.”
Jana wondered if those were really all assumptions, or if Bledshaw knew something he wasn’t sharing.
Bledshaw smiled. “I’m glad you’re gaining some confidence in me. Does this mean you’ll reconsider my offer to join the Antiquities Division?”
“Don’t push your luck.”
Tamang studied the map. “Time is of the essence for them so I think they will take the most direct route, which would lead them through this pass. It’s a small one and out of the way, so it probably doesn’t have very big garrisons. If we take this valley here, we can cut off some time and catch up to them a bit. Let’s use the satellite phone to warn the Nepalese government. They can put the base on alert and maybe send some reinforcements. I’ll try to convince them the threat is real and not from the Chinese.”
“All right,” Jana agreed. “The battle at the monastery must have surely attracted the attention of the village down in the valley. They’ll call the authorities. That will add credence to your report. Maybe the garrison can stop the monks.”
Tamang made a face. “No. They’ll get slaughtered. But maybe they can slow them down enough for us to catch up.”
CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN
The Nepalese garrison did not slow the monks down enough, and neither did the Chinese garrison. Jacob knew that the instant he found the bodies.
He and Aaron crept along through a rocky pass, darting from cover to cover, approaching the rear area of the Nepalese base. Just as they came in sight of the bunkers, they spotted a heap of bodies dumped in a ravine.
All wore the uniform of the Nepalese Armed Forces.
They continued past empty bunkers and beneath abandoned lookout points until they got to the HQ, a squat concrete structure sunk into the bedrock. A radio mast stood on the roof. They checked the door. Unlocked.
They entered, then winced as the door gave out a loud creak.
The main room had a table with topographic maps and a rack of guns. A couple of open doors led into other rooms. From one came a monk, asking a question as he rounded the corner.
Just as his face registered surprise, Jacob and Aaron threw knives that plunged into his chest.
He gasped and fell to the floor, coughing up blood.
Even before he choked out his last, Jacob and Aaron had cleared the bunker, found four bodies of monks under a tarp in one of the rooms, saw no one else was inside, and met back in the main room.
“You go get the others. I’ll neutralize the radio operator in the Chinese bunker,” Aaron told him.
“I didn’t see any maps or anything here.”
“There won’t be. They know where they’re going. Thankfully with all these mountains in the way they can’t get a signal from the monastery. Even the jump on a shortwave skip will go past them, not to them. They won’t know about the attack on the monastery.”
“Which means the survivors we left to our rear will be coming after us.”
Aaron punched him in the shoulder. “All the more reason to hustle. See you soon.”
Jacob hurried back to where Jana, Bledshaw, and Tamang sat hidden behind some boulders. Bledshaw was watching the trail behind them with a pair of binoculars. Jana and Tamang were poring over one of the old books.
“See anything?” Jacob asked the director of the Antiquities Division.
“Nothing. Are the two bunkers cleared?”
“One is. They only left a single man. So Aaron will clear out the other one by himself. Let’s go.”
“We’ve found out something else,” Jana said, holding up the book. “At least we might have.”
“What?” Jacob asked, giving the pass behind them a nervous look.
“A reference to the cyar mey having to be activated at certain sacred spaces. This book mentions a temple of ice somewhere in this region. There’s even a picture of it. See?”
Jacob looked at a crude woodcut of what looked like a glacier in the shape of a pagoda.
“You can’t make a building out of ice. Ice shifts with its own weight and changes in temperature. Even glaciers move.”
