The Secret Cardinal

57

‘Report!’ Liu demanded.

‘We’ve lost contact,’ the communications officer replied. ‘Everything is operational on this end. Dragon One Five is not responding.’

‘Gou shi! Peng, where are they?’

Peng stood at a large wall map of the region, estimating the intersection of the Harbin’s reported sighting.

‘The last reported position was in western Tibet,’ Peng replied, ‘near Bangong Co. The nearest village is Rutog.’

‘Captain, do you have any other aircraft in that area?’

The officer checked the current status of all aircraft assigned to this mission. ‘The closest are near the end of their range. They don’t have enough fuel to make it to Rutog and back. We do have one being refueled now that can be there in little more than an hour.’

‘Peng and I will be on it.’

Han piloted BAT-1 in a wide arc around the wreckage, careful to remain upwind of the plume of oily, black smoke. Kilkenny and Tao surveyed the ground below while Yin prayed for the lives just lost. Two-thirds of their company lay either dead or wounded around the burning hulk of the Chinese helicopter.

‘We should have put down earlier,’ Kilkenny grumbled.

‘It’s not your fault,’ Tao said reassuringly. ‘We’re in danger every minute we stay in China.’

‘If we were on the ground they wouldn’t have spotted us.’

‘Perhaps, but if they had we would all be dead.’

‘I found a place to land,’ Han said, happy to change the subject.

‘Do it,’ Kilkenny ordered.

Kilkenny had his harness and helmet off as soon as the BAT landed, and he ran down the slope toward the crumpled airframe. The bodies of four men littered the field, the ground around them raked by heavy fire. Shen and Chun were clearly dead, their bodies perforated with bullet holes.

He found Chow by a large boulder and pressed his fingers to the man’s neck but failed to find a pulse. He rolled the body over and saw the blood pooled on the ground beneath it. A sliver from the engine’s ceramic blades had pierced the young SEAL’s neck, and the exertion as he ran for cover proved fatal.

‘We found Max,’ Tao called out. ‘He’s alive.’

Kilkenny raced to where Tao and Yin knelt beside his former chief. They had removed his helmet, and Gates was both conscious and in pain.

‘I know this is a dumb question,’ Kilkenny said, ‘but where does it hurt?’

‘Be easier to say where it doesn’t. Any of my guys make it?’

Kilkenny shook his head. ‘And if it weren’t for BAT-3, we’d be having this conversation in the next life.’

‘I saw. Brave s-o-b’s took that fucker out just as he was drawing a bead on me.’

Gates rubbed the Kevlar panel covering his badly bruised chest and dislodged a flattened slug. Several more dotted his body armor.

‘Remind me to send a real nice letter to DuPont when we get home.’

‘Make sure you enclose one of the slugs.’

‘Here’s the med kit,’ Han said. ‘I’ll go check the RITEG on BAT-2, make sure it shut down.’

‘Good thinking,’ Kilkenny said. ‘And pull it off the frame — I don’t want to leave a nuke behind.’

‘How’s it look?’ Gates asked as Kilkenny and Tao dressed his wounds.

‘Some of these cuts will need stitches, but most are superficial. You might have a few cracked ribs as well, but nothing a tough old SEAL like you won’t recover from,’ Kilkenny replied. ‘Of course, you’ve at least doubled your collection of dings.’

‘Just what I needed,’ Gates said grimly.

‘I don’t know,’ Tao mused as she set a dressing. ‘I think a few scars give a man character.’

As Kilkenny treated Gates, Yin tended to the remains of the three fallen warriors. He carefully ordered their bodies on the ground and removed their helmets, treating each man with great dignity. Yin said a prayer for the repose of their souls, that each would find eternal rest. Although he could not reach them, Yin offered the same prayers for the men whose bodies were being consumed by the fire.

After Gates’s wounds were tended, Kilkenny joined Yin by the burning wreckage and offered his own prayer for the men who had sacrificed themselves for the team.

‘They were brave men,’ Kilkenny said. ‘They saw what had to be done and took action.’

‘But what of the other men?’ Yin asked.

‘They got what they deserved.’

‘Did they? But for an accident of birth, could they not have been your men? Did they not share many of the same hopes as your men? I find no joy in any of these deaths, and I forgive those who sought to harm us.’

‘Of all the lessons my catechists tried to drill into my head, I still have the toughest time with that one.’

‘Truth is like water,’ Yin explained. ‘Both are necessary for life, but both may come in forms that are difficult to grasp. Forgiveness can be hard to give, and is often harder to accept. But the true paradox is that the forgiveness we need most must come from ourselves. It is a lesson I struggle with as well.’

‘Why do you need forgiveness?’ Kilkenny asked. ‘If anything, you’re owed a very large apology.’

‘We all need forgiveness. You and your companions have risked your lives to win my freedom, and some have been killed in the effort.’ Yin touched the cross hidden beneath his suit. ‘I fear that members of my flock who have helped you have also paid a terrible price. All because of me.’

‘None of that is your fault,’ Kilkenny said dismissively.

‘Had I chosen a different vocation, many people would still be alive, and we would not be having this conversation,’ Yin countered calmly. ‘And for better or worse, choices you have made have brought you here at this moment.’

‘If it’s any consolation, I forgive you for being a man worth saving.’

‘All of us are worth saving.’ Yin paused. ‘You were to be a father today, yes?’

‘I was.’

‘What happened to your wife and child?’

The directness of Yin’s questions angered Kilkenny, but he felt an overwhelming urge to answer.

‘Kelsey and I wanted to start our family once we were married, and she became pregnant last February. In the spring, we learned she had cancer. The disease was treatable, but it required a horrible sacrifice.’

‘The life of your child.’

Kilkenny nodded. ‘Because she was pregnant, my wife’s cancer was very aggressive and required equally aggressive treatment. The doctors gave us three choices: end the pregnancy and attack the cancer; attack the cancer while she was still pregnant with the knowledge that it would either kill or seriously injure our child; or postpone treatment until after our child could be safely born and hope the cancer hadn’t spread too far.’

‘A difficult choice,’ Yin agreed. ‘What did you two decide?’

‘We both wanted Toby, and we wouldn’t do anything to endanger his life. Kelsey and I chose to postpone treatment to give our baby the time he needed to be born. We knew this choice was the most dangerous one for her, but Kelsey was already thinking like a mother, and she was willing to risk death for our child. It was a race against time, and we lost. Kelsey was dying when the doctors delivered our son. He was so small,’ Kilkenny’s voice cracked as he recalled the scene, ‘he fit in the palm of my hand. Toby died just a few hours after his mother.’

‘And now you carry the grief of a devastating loss, and the anger. They are your constant companions, lurking on the fringes of your consciousness. You can hide from them in your work, or numb yourself with alcohol or opium, but the grief and anger will continue to gnaw at you like rats until you confront their source. You loved your wife, yes?’

‘Of course.’

‘Yet you chose not to treat her illness, knowing that it could cause her death. Why?’

‘Because we believed that it was morally wrong to do anything that would have killed our child.’

‘But still your child died, along with your wife. Knowing that, would you have decided differently?’

‘Kelsey and I talked about that, and we couldn’t trade his life for hers. With the choice we made, we still had hope.’

‘So you did what you believed was right. You acted in accordance with your faith?’

‘Yes.’

‘Do you pray?’ Yin asked.

‘Occasionally.’

‘Near the end, did you offer your life to save your wife and son?’

‘Yes,’ Kilkenny admitted.

‘And still they were taken from you. Who took them?’

‘Nobody,’ Kilkenny shot back. ‘They died because my wife had cancer.’

‘But when you offered your life for theirs, who did you think would accept the exchange?’ Yin demanded. ‘And when He didn’t, and your family died, who did you blame?’

‘God,’ Kilkenny replied.

‘But the decision that led to their deaths was not God’s. It was yours.’ As Yin spoke, the tone of his voice remained calm without a hint of accusation. ‘I do not believe God causes earthquakes or floods, nor do I believe He afflicts people with disease or allows some to commit acts of evil. All of this is part of His creation, including the gift of free will.

‘You and your wife made a decision based on faith and hope, yet still suffered a great tragedy. I believe God is aware of this tragedy, and in His own way seeks to restore harmony. This is akin to the Chinese belief that crisis and opportunity are two sides of the same coin. But in keeping with our free will, God does not force harmony upon us. Instead, He presents opportunities, but it is up to us to recognize them. To overcome your grief and anger and to survive your loss, you must forgive yourself.’

‘We got company!’ Han shouted.

Drawn by the tall column of black smoke, five men were striding down the slope toward them. They moved as easily over the uneven terrain as the yaks that thrived in this region. All wore long chubas, felt boots, and richly embroidered hats. Except for the two youngest — who looked to be in their late teens or early twenties — Kilkenny found it difficult to estimate the men’s ages. Their faces glowed with a rich bronze patina acquired from a lifetime of harsh weather and brilliant sunlight.

Kilkenny and Yin joined the others by BAT-1. The men stopped about twenty feet away, carefully assessing the group.

‘Think they’re here to pick over the bodies?’ Gates asked.

‘More likely curious,’ Tao replied.

The men spoke quietly among themselves, keeping a careful eye on the five strangers in their land.

‘The younger ones seem curious about you,’ Kilkenny said to Tao. ‘I’m sure you’re dressed more provocatively than they’re used to.’

‘It is our clothing that intrigues them,’ Yin offered. ‘They wonder how we stay warm in something so thin.’

‘You understand what they’re saying?’

Yin nodded. ‘I may be a little out of practice.’

Kilkenny walked up to the men, smiling and keeping his hands where they could see them. He held out his arm and rubbed the fabric, indicating they could touch it if they liked.

At first only one accepted Kilkenny’s offer, then the others joined in. A rapid discussion ensued that ended with the apparent spokesman asking a question about the suit.

‘Bishop Yin?’ Kilkenny asked, looking for help.

‘Our suits do not appear to be felt or silk. They wonder if they keep us warm and what kind of animal produced the fabric.’

Kilkenny smiled. ‘Tell them we are very comfortable, and the fabric was made by a very small insect called a nanotech.’

Yin relayed Kilkenny’s answer and the five men nodded, pleased with a new piece of knowledge.

‘Na-no-tek,’ one of the men said to Kilkenny, enunciating the syllables carefully.

Kilkenny nodded. The leader asked Yin another question, his tone more serious.

‘Three of us are Chinese and two are not,’ Yin translated. ‘He wonders where we are from.’

Kilkenny pondered the question. Although all but Yin were from the United States, their presence in China was not officially sanctioned and something Washington would deny. In telling the Tibetans the truth, Kilkenny feared exposing them to reprisal from the Chinese government.

‘I’m having a little trouble with that truth thing again,’ Kilkenny said to Yin. ‘If Beijing thinks these people knew where we were from and suspects they helped us in any way, it could be bad for them.’

‘I think I may have an answer,’ Yin replied.

Yin walked up beside Kilkenny and offered a response. The Tibetans all nodded and talked excitedly.

‘What did you tell them?’ Kilkenny asked.

‘I said that I was a priest and that you and your associates came to China to accompany me to the West.’

The spokesman offered another question, and Kilkenny noted that he said one word with a particular reverence: Kundun. Yin clasped his hands together and bowed before answering — the word clearly had special significance.

‘They ask if I am a lama, a holy man, and if I am going to the West for my own protection, like the beloved Kundun.’

‘Kundun?’

‘A Tibetan name,’ Tao explained. ‘It means the presence. They’re talking about Tenzin Gyaltso. In the West, he is known as the Dalai Lama.’

‘A fair analogy,’ Kilkenny said.

The Tibetans greeted Yin’s response warmly and drew close around, questioning him further. All but ignored, Kilkenny stepped back and left Yin with his enthralled audience.

‘Seems the natives have taken a liking to our holy man,’ Gates opined.

‘He definitely has a way with people,’ Kilkenny observed.

‘What are we going to do about them? You know the Chinese are going to come for that,’ Tao said, nodding her head toward the burning helicopter.

‘You can bet they reported sighting us before starting their attack,’ Han added.

‘And what about the bodies of our people?’ Gates asked. ‘We can’t let the ChiComs get ’em.’

‘I was thinking the same thing,’ Kilkenny replied, ‘and I have no intention of leaving our buddies behind.’

‘How can we take them with us?’ Han asked. ‘We have more passengers than seats.’

‘One problem at a time. First, I think we need to offer a hecatomb to our fallen warriors.’

‘A heck of what?’ Han asked.

‘He’s going Greek on us.’ Gates rolled his eyes. ‘I’ve seen this before. It’s what happens when you read too much.’

‘Would our Tibetan friends be offended if we cremated the remains of our dead?’ Kilkenny asked Yin. ‘We don’t want their bodies desecrated by the Chinese military.’

Yin posed Kilkenny’s question to the group. After a brief discussion, he had an answer.

‘Tibetan Buddhists bury their dead in earth or water, or in the sky.’

‘The sky?’ Kilkenny asked. ‘You mean cremation?’

‘No. Sky burial is an old and honored tradition in Tibet. After the spirit has departed, the body is dismembered into small pieces and fed to a gathering of vultures. The bones are ground into powder and mixed with flour to make bread, which is also fed to the birds. It is the birds that take the body into the sky.’

‘Not exactly a proper Christian burial,’ Gates groused, disgusted by the idea.

‘No, but the symbolism of the ceremony is quite moving. It reinforces the belief of oneness. I have attended sky burials and find them most poetic.’

‘But what about cremation?’ Kilkenny asked.

‘Burning the remains of the dead is an accepted practice, but rarely done in this region as it requires a fuel, which is scarce.’

‘At the moment, we have plenty of fuel.’ Kilkenny turned to Han. ‘You want to give me a hand?’

Kilkenny and Han approached the body of Bob Shen. With the greatest care they moved it to the burning helicopter and cast it into the center of the flames. Next they added the remains of Gene Chun and Jim Chow. Finally, they cast into the fire the helmets of the fallen men and the dismantled wreckage of BAT-2 to prevent the technology from falling into Chinese hands.

Yin joined the Tibetans in a Buddhist prayer for the dead. Kilkenny did not understand the words but was moved nonetheless.

‘We honor the sacrifice of our fallen comrades,’ Kilkenny said in conclusion, ‘and offer them to the winds that they, too, may find their way home.’

‘Nice hecatomb, Nolan,’ Gates offered seriously.

‘Just what is a hecatomb?’ Han asked.

‘Originally, it referred to the practice among ancient Greeks and Romans of sacrificing a hundred cows or oxen to commemorate a significant event and curry favor with the gods,’ Kilkenny explained. ‘It also refers to the slaughter or sacrifice of many victims.’

‘I’d say our guys are worth a lot more than a hundred head of cattle,’ Gates added.

‘After their victory at Troy,’ Kilkenny continued, ‘many of the Achaeans, impatient to return to their homeland, failed to offer a proper sacrifice. Their gods were displeased, and the Achaeans never made it home.’

Gates leaned close to Han. ‘As I said, he’s going Greek on us.’

‘Keep talking that way and I might go medieval on you instead,’ Kilkenny offered.

‘Hey!’ Gates said excitedly. ‘I know that movie.’

‘I thought you might. Now, to deal with our other problems.’

Kilkenny joined Yin and the Tibetans who were deep in conversation. ‘Bishop Yin, I have several requests for our new friends.’

‘Yes?’ Yin asked.

‘First, after the fire dies down, would they please grind the bones of our people to dust? Second, we need to leave soon. Is there a boat we can use? Sadly, we will be unable to return it.’

Yin nodded.

‘I don’t want them to be harmed for helping us, so when the Chinese arrive, I would like them to be truthful when questioned, but not too truthful.’

Yin relayed Kilkenny’s questions, and the Tibetans took a few moments to discuss the matter before responding.

‘Norbu, the elder, says they would be honored to scatter the remains of our friends. He also says there is a boat we can use, something that was left by a tourist this past summer. His sons will show you where it is.’

‘That’s very kind.’

‘Relations between the Chinese and Tibetans are not always good,’ Yin explained. ‘Norbu says he and his brothers will tell whoever comes as little as possible.’

‘Perfect. They can say that the bodies of the dead were burned in the fire by the survivors, and that they saw only two people in the aircraft when it left, you and me.’

‘And the others?’

‘I was hoping they would just “forget” to mention them.’

Yin relayed Kilkenny’s comments, starting another round of conversation that ended with Norbu posing another question to Yin.

‘They will do as you ask, but they also have a request.’

‘I’ll do whatever I can,’ Kilkenny promised.

‘The request is for me. They ask that when we reach the West, I convey their respects to Kundun.’

Kilkenny thought a moment. ‘I think we can arrange that.’

Kilkenny left Yin with the Tibetans and rejoined the rest of his team by the fire.

‘What’s the plan?’ Gates asked.

‘You three and Yin are taking a boat to India, and I’m going to play decoy in the BAT.’

‘You can’t be serious,’ Tao said.

‘It’s a bad move,’ Gates agreed. ‘Anytime a guy splits off from the group in a horror movie, he ends up dead.’

‘The Chinese know we’re trying to fly out. And since we downed their helo, they have to assume we’re still flying. We can’t all fit in BAT-1, and if we leave it here they’ll know we’re trying to get out some other way. If I give them something to chase, you’ll have a better chance of making it across the border.’

‘I’m the pilot,’ Han countered. ‘I should be taking the BAT.’

‘You have a wife and kids, right?’ Kilkenny asked.

‘Yeah.’

‘I don’t, and this expedition has created enough widows and orphans.’

‘If being a family man is your criteria, then let me fly,’ Gates said. ‘There’s still hope for you.’

‘I appreciate that, Max, but I’d still rather have you in the boat. Look, this isn’t a kamikaze run — I fully intend to get out of China alive. We just need a distraction to cover your escape.’

‘But why you?’ Han asked.

‘Peace of mind. If things go bad, I would rather it be me than any of you. Since I’m the boss, my order stands. Now, if you’ll all excuse me, I have a nuke to stow and a message to send.’

Kilkenny strapped BAT-2’s RITEG into the back of BAT-1 and pulled on his helmet.

‘Satellite uplink on.’

‘Message encrypt, five words: One born every minute initially’

‘Message confirmed.’

‘Bombadil.’

Kilkenny pulled off the helmet and scratched his head. He looked over at Yin. The Tibetans were treating the Bishop with as much reverence as if he were a high lama of their faith.

‘Gather ’round, everybody,’ Kilkenny called out.

Everyone, including the Tibetans, joined Kilkenny beside the BAT.

‘I just sent word to Rome, so with luck you won’t have too much trouble on the other side of the lake. You should get moving and take advantage of this fog for as long as it lasts. Judging by the flow out of these mountains, you’ll be moving with the current, so that should help.’ Kilkenny turned to Yin. ‘Would you please express my deepest thanks to our Tibetan friends for all their help?’

As Yin spoke, Kilkenny bowed deeply to each of the men, who were pleased by the gesture. He turned to his comrades.

‘No mushy goodbyes,’ Kilkenny said. ‘I’ll meet up with you on the other side. Take care and get across that border.’

Yin stepped in front of Kilkenny, hands folded and head bowed. He lifted his head, slipped his thumbs inside the collar of his suit, and carefully drew out the hand-carved cross. He held it up for a moment of veneration before lowering it to his chest.

‘Bow your head for a blessing,’ Yin said softly.

Kilkenny clasped his hands together and lowered his head.

‘O Lord Jesus, please watch over this man as he has watched over me. Protect him from harm and guide his journey home. Amen.’

‘Amen,’ Kilkenny answered.

Kilkenny lifted his head, and Yin extended a hand toward him. He grasped the small, slender hand and discovered warm steel within the grip. And in Yin’s gaze Kilkenny found an intensity and clarity reminiscent of the late Pope Leo.

‘Only God knows what lies ahead for you and me,’ Yin said, ‘and if the future differs from our hopes, I wish now to express my gratitude.’

‘You’re welcome,’ Kilkenny replied. ‘And Godspeed.’