Forged in Honor (1995) (11 page)

Xu Kang knelt by his son and took the silver bracelet from his own wrist and placed it on Stephen's. After patting his son's shoulder he stood up and clapped Joshua's shoulder. "Horseman Hawkins, please tell my son he has made me very proud." Xu Kang looked once more at his son before rolling his shoulders back and taking the reins of his horse. Swinging up into the saddle, he sat erect looking down at Joshua. "The gods have smiled on us all. We found U Wat last night as we rode toward the village to warn Pastor Henry the army was coming." The Chindit leaned forward in the saddle, his eyes misting. "I must return now to the north and prepare my soldiers. We do not have much time. My spies tell me the army is coming within days. I ... I fear I will not see you again. My spies also have told me all missionaries will be ordered out of the country. The time has come for us to say farewell. I have failed as a father with my son, Joshua, but I feel I have not failed with you. It was good to see you grow and appreciate the old ways. They are gone, Horseman Hawkins ... the old ways are gone forever ... but by wearing the Master Horseman's band you will remember them, and I pray to the gods when you smell the smoke of a campfire you will think of me. Good-bye ... Good-bye, my son."

Before Joshua could speak the Sawbaw spurred his horse into a gallop toward his beloved mountains.

PART I

Chapter 7.

PRESENT DAY

9 A. M. 3 June, Rangoon, Burma.

"Couldn't they give you more warning? Can you at least tell me where you're going this time?" Stephen Kang's wife did not hide her anger.

He avoided her frigid stare by sidestepping her, but spoke over his shoulder as he made his way to the bedroom to pack. "Like I told you on the phone, they only let me know thirty minutes ago. They said the United States, but they didn't say where." Now the deputy minister of finance for the Union of Burma, his responsibilities were great.

She followed him into their bedroom. "I can't take this anymore, Stephen. The sudden trips, the secrecy, coming home from work at midnight every night. Jacob hasn't had a father and I haven't had a husband for a year. It has to end."

Stephen pulled the suitcase from beneath the bed and tossed it up to the mattress. "Mya, please, don't start. I've told you before you'll just have to believe in me. Our country is facing ruin. I've been trying to save us all. Please don't make my leaving any harder than it already is." He saw she needed more than words and reached for her. "They've promised this will be the last trip, and-"

Mya stepped away from his embrace, not ready to give up.

"Your father is worried. He still says you should not trust them."

He froze and his eyes narrowed. "He contacted you again?"

"Yes, I was slipped a letter from one of his people while shopping at the market. Stephen, he's right. You can't trust them. Just look what they've done to our people."

Stephen was about to retort when a seven-year-old boy ran into the room and grabbed his leg. "Don't go, Papa, please don't go."

Stephen forced a smile although his heart was breaking as he patted his son's shoulder. "I don't want to go, but I must.

Jacob, you're now the man of the House of Kang. Take care of your mother while I'm gone."

Jacob looked up at his father. "Papa, can I visit Grandfather while you're gone? He said in his letter he would teach me to ride his pony and I can go hunting with him. Please?"

Stephen's eyes turned cold again, and he looked at his wife accusingly. She ignored his look and patted Jacob's back.

"Give your father a last hug, then go to your room and play.

Your father and I have to talk."

She waited until Jacob had embraced her husband and left the room. "Your father said if you were to leave again that we should leave the city and go to him in the mountains. He doesn't trust them as you do."

"Damn him!" blurted Stephen. "He endangers us with his secret notes. You know how they watch us!"

Mya's eyes watered. "He's worried about us, Stephen. He says-"

"He doesn't know what he's talking about! Don't you see what he's doing? He'll make any excuse to have Jacob with him to corrupt with his foolishness! I won't have it! His army and people have abandoned him for good reason. He makes promises that can never be fulfilled. Even now he's causing problems in the north trying to be the 'Great Chindit' again.

He was, and is now, nothing but a thief! And now he tries to steal my son."

Mya stared at him accusingly. "Your father sacrificed everything for you. He knew what he was and made sure you would be different. But for what end, Stephen? Who are the thieves and who are making the promises now?"

Her words and fiery eyes impaled his heart. He lowered his head, knowing she could never understand why he was working for the government. He walked to the closet, picked out several sets of clothes, and put them in his suitcase.

Mya's eyes filled with tears. She walked over and leaned her head against his back. "I'm sorry ... I'm so sorry. I love you so much. It's just that it breaks my heart to hear you speak badly of your father. I can't bear lying to him and making excuses for you. He loves you more than anything in this world. He's so worried. Please read his last letter to you."

Stephen turned and cupped her chin to raise her head. "I'll take the letter with me," he said softly. "Things will be different when I return-I promise."

She backed away and resigned herself to his going. "I'll get your shaving kit. Stephen, please call Joshua when you are there. He writes you every month and you haven't written back in a year. Please, he misses you."

Hearing Joshua's name caused Stephen to glance at the picture on his dresser. He picked it up with a reflective smile.

"Those were the best times of our lives."

Mya stepped up beside him to look at the picture. "We were all so naive and foolish when we were young. I miss being able to laugh, Stephen, and not having a care in the world. They've taken that away from us. Everywhere I go I know I'm being watched. I can't go on like this."

Stephen handed her the picture and opened the dresser for his socks and underwear. "It's going to be like it once was.

You'll see."

Minutes later on the front porch he kissed her gently on the lips and backed away, trying to smile. "I love you. I'll call every day." He gave her a last, lingering look and then headed for the waiting staff car.

.

11 A. M.

Five miles from the smoldering U. S. Embassy, on the second floor of the Directorate of Defense Services Intelligence's ultramodern building, Major General Ren Swei stood at his office window listening to the distant sounds of wailing sirens. Minutes before he had heard and felt the rumble from the bomb explosion. In his early fifties, Director Swei of the secret police looked every bit the aristocrat he was. Dark pink scars from a battle fought with Shan mountain rebels when he was a young major etched his chin and left cheek.

He wore no medals or decorations but rather let his shrapnel scars show his sacrifice and devotion to his country. Tall for a Burmese, he wore a perfectly tailored uniform that accented his fit, trim body. Distinguished splashes of gray streaked his short black hair. He shifted his intense, dark brown eyes to his deputy, who stood nearby with the telephone handset to his ear.

Brigadier General Tan nodded and spoke quickly. "Well done. I will pass the information on to the director." He hung up and smiled. "The bombing was executed flawlessly."

Director Swei lifted an eyebrow. "It's unfortunate they were so inquisitive. It was their kan, I suppose. You did excellent work with such little notice. I am indebted as always."

Brigadier Tan, a short but powerfully built officer, accepted the compliment with a slight head bow. "It was very close, my general. Our special operations unit was assigned the mission. They used a Shan heroin addict to drive the truck. He was so desperate for his white powder he believed he would have time to ignite the detonator and get away."

Swei sat down in his large executive chair and nodded reflectively. "It bought us time. It will take the American intelligence replacements weeks to pick up where the others left off; by then it will be too late. Has our Sao taken off for Seattle?"

Tan's chest tightened and his nostrils flared. "Yes, Kang is finally gone. He departed an hour ago. If only we could rid ourselves of his father so easily."

Swei allowed himself a rare smile and waved Tan to a chair. "Colonel Sak Po will be with Kang, and he knows what must be done once the funds are transferred. Forget Stephen Kang. Now, bring me up to date on our operation.

I'll have to call the prime minister in several minutes and tell him about the 'terrorist attack.' He will not be pleased. He's having problems enough now with the minority leaders, and he's been pressing me for a date to announce the loan guarantees."

Tan took a small notebook from his pocket and flipped to his notes from the morning briefing. "The first freighter left Singapore a week ago; the second left this morning. The third's cargo is being moved to a Malaysian-registered ship like the others. The cargo has been 'purchased and sold' three times and is now Malaysian. It has all the necessary supporting documentation and cannot be traced back to us.

You will meet with the Triad representative in a week, the day the first shipment arrives in Seattle. As of today the operation has had no setbacks. White Storm is on schedule."

Swei felt a rush of pride course through his body upon hearing how smoothly his meticulously planned operation was running, but it was more than the update on the freighters. It was hearing the code name he had given to the operation years before. The name was spawned in his mind when, like a storm, a sudden, unexpected chain of events occurred and made the operation possible. The Soviet Union crumbled and China needed allies. She came offering what she had never offered before, support and recognition of Burma's military government. The junta accepted and became a legitimate government in the eyes of the world. Within a year, with China's help, the army was finally able to crush the rebel insurgencies that had plagued the country for forty-five years.

But Swei and his colleagues had to face facts. The junta had consolidated power throughout Burma, but it was a hollow victory. There was nothing left to rebuild the country, now one of the world's poorest. Then came another reality:

The rebels had provided the Hong Kong Triad with its opium. With the insurgents scattered, the Triad had come to Swei, the director of the DDSI, and made a proposal that would give his country renewed hope. These events led him to design and propose a master plan to his leaders-White Storm, a symbol of change.

Swei smiled inwardly, knowing his leaders didn't appreciate the powers his storm was capable of unleashing. But soon they would learn.

Seeing his general's distant stare, Tan coughed to regain his attention and picked up the phone receiver. "You need to make the call, my general."

Swei took the phone handset. He pushed two numbers to access his direct line and waited only a moment. "Prime Minister, I'm afraid I have bad news. It appears the U. S. Embassy was the site of the explosion. At this time we don't know what caused it, but it appears the damage was very severe."

Northern Burma.

The ground rumbled from the hoof beats of galloping ponies, and the yells of the riders echoed down the valley.

"AYEEE! AYEEE!"

Colonel Banta got out of a new Toyota four-wheel pickup to watch the hunting party and smiled at the war cries. He had joined the Chindit twenty years before, and yet he still marveled at the old leader and his gray-haired Horsemen's dedication to the old ways. Weapons and tactics had changed over the years, but not the Horsemen. They still wore their useless swords and rode homes as the ancient ones had done hundreds of years before. Of the original one hundred, only eight remained; battles had claimed many, but now time was their enemy. Not one was under sixty.

Xu Kang broke off from the others and reined his stallion up just short of the pickup painted in camouflage. "Greetings and blessings, Colonel. Are you the only one left?"

"Greetings and blessings, Chindit," Banta said, bowing his head. Looking up, he motioned behind him down the rutted road. "Only half from the camp are coming. The others deserted and went back to their homes. They think the government will honor its agreements this time."

"By the gods, they are fools! How many do we have left?"

"Maybe four hundred men. We were able to load everyone and all of our equipment in the trucks. They will be here shortly."

Xu Kang's old black Mexican saddle creaked as he shifted his weight to his left stirrup and climbed down from his black horse. He untied a dead gyi from the back of the saddle and tossed the small deer onto the hood of the truck. "There will be meat in the pot tonight, my friend. It was a good hunt. The long truce has softened me. I can still ride, but I must admit my old bones prefer the Land Rover." He laughed and gestured toward the lush valley. "It's good to be back in my old camp. The army has done me a favor by forcing us deeper into the mountains. What times we had and what battles we fought from here! It is the gods' will for me to return to where it all began."

Colonel Banta smiled. "The people have heard the great Sawbaw Xu Kang has returned to the Ri. You will soon have another army to lead."

The old warrior smiled a wolfish grin. "Four hundred men left, eh? We had ten thousand strong only two years ago.