The Visitor

by Brent Ayscough

  The president thanked her. “Contact my office with any new developments.”

  CHAPTER 26

  In St. Petersburg, Nikolay received a call from Grigoriy Mishkin, one of the crew who went to Tibet. The call was in Russian.

  “There’s trouble. I went out with Yaroslav Ivchenko last night. He invited me to a nightclub. He has not been working and has been drinking very heavily since his new-found wealth. Although already drunk when we got there, he proceeded to drink quite a lot of vodka. He invited two women, young ones, to entertain us. After a while, he began boasting how it was he that had spread the Ebola all over Tibet and that he was responsible for the epidemic.”

  “Who was listening?” Nikolay asked.

  “Only the girls, about age twenty. I don’t know how seriously they took him as he was drunk, but the point is that he was talking and is a security risk.”

  “Thanks,” Nikolay said. “I will do something about it at once. Tell no one else.”

  ***

  Two days later, at ten in the morning, Nikolay knocked on the door of Yaroslav’s apartment. Yaroslav was still asleep and very hung over. Stumbling about with a huge headache, he got up and let Nikolay in.

  Nikolay brought a small bag with breakfast rolls and tea leaves in a small carton. He went to the stove and put on a kettle for hot water. Then he went to the small kitchen table and sat. “Sit down here and have a roll and the tea. We must talk.”

  “Why are you here?” Yaroslav asked.

  “You have been talking about what you did in Tibet,” Nikolay told him. “I came here to warn you that it has to stop at once!”

  Yaroslav groaned, so hung over that he could not say much. Finally, he said, “I don’t recall anything like that.”

  “You did it, the night before last, in front of Grigoriy Mishkin and two girls you picked up.”

  Yaroslav stopped denying it, as his memory began to return. “I don’t know how I screwed up like that.”

  “I do,” Nikolay said. “You got drunk on your ass, and you started boasting. Aren’t you working?”

  “No, I lost my job, and I have still not found a new one yet.’

  Nikolay translated that to mean that Yaroslav went on a binge with the money he made from the job in Tibet and was not about to work until that was all gone.

  The kettle began to whistle. Nikolay got up and found a cup, not cleaned, and rinsed it. He put the tea from his bag in the cup and poured in boiling water. He brought it over to Yaroslav.

  “No thanks,” Yaroslav said.

  “Drink this!” Nikolay commanded, as though it was needed to sober Yaroslav up to talk.

  Yaroslav went along and sipped the tea.

  “Take a bit of the roll also,” Nikolay told him. He complied. “I’m here to warn you that you are a security risk,” Nikolay continued. “Do you recall that I told you when I hired you that no such leaks could be tolerated? This is your absolute last warning. Do you understand?”

  “I’m sorry, Nicolay. It won’t happen again. I’ve been drinking way too much.”

  “Finish the tea and get sober. I don’t want to have to come back again.”

  Yaroslav drank the rest of the tea as ordered.

  “I’ll leave you now,” Nikolay said, “but you must get your act together. Do you understand?”

  “Yes, I do. It won’t happen again.”

  Nikolay left. Yaroslav returned to bed to nurse his hangover.

  Given the amount of Polonium 210 in the tea, about 1000 times the lethal dose, Yaroslav would probably not leave the apartment alive. If he was taken away in an ambulance and anyone took X-rays at the hospital, those would not show anything, as the Polonium 210 did not give off gamma rays. Unless specialized doctors looked for it, no one would ever know what ate out his insides. It was produced in a Soviet reactor, which made a small amount of it each year, about eighty-five grams. It did not burn the epidermis, It only began to work once inside the stomach and then very effectively.

  Nikolay had kept some he had obtained from a payoff to a corrupt government official at the reactor where it was made. As no one would conduct any autopsy, the death would just be written up by the medical examiner as the deadly effects of advanced alcoholism.

  CHAPTER 27

  Baron and Tak returned from a motorcycle sightseeing trip to the Golden Triangle in the north of Thailand.

  Inside their home, they went to the flat screen and tuned on the satellite news. There was a news report, estimating the infection of Chinese in Tibet at over one hundred fifty thousand. Travel to and from Tibet was forbidden, and there was rioting and chaos there. The report confirmed that only Chinese were subject to this strain of the Ebola virus.

  It was time. Baron looked up a number in his cell phone and called one of the most powerful generals in Mainland China, General Chew Won Hor. He was in and, hearing who was calling, quickly took the call, notwithstanding the emergency going on in Tibet and the needed efforts to keep the epidemic out of Mainland China.

  “General, Baron Von Limbach here,” Baron said, in Mandarin. “How are you?”

  “I’m fine, but the epidemic is a catastrophe. How are you, Baron?”

  “Good, thank you. The epidemic is why I’m calling. I have it from my sources that the Tibetans are not being infected. Is that so?”

  “That is the same information that I have.”

  “I have a source that would like the Dalai Lama to be invited back to Tibet to give spiritual comfort to the Tibetans in this catastrophe. Since Tibetans are immune from the Ebola, He could travel there. Do you think you might arrange it for me?”

  “Baron, so many of the devil-infested countries of the world have been putting pressure on China to allow the Dalai Lama to return. Why do you think that it would be allowed now?”

  “I have two reasons. First, it would show the world that your country is compassionate to the devastation that is going on there in allowing a spiritual leader to return and give comfort.”

  “But Tibetans are not becoming infected! He would not be providing comfort to the Chinese.”

  “I have yet a second, more compelling reason. I’ll also pay you one million US dollars cash, as soon as the Dalai Lama sets foot back in Tibet.”

  There was a pause. Of all the international efforts to put the Dalai Lama back in Tibet, all of which had been rebuked, no one had ever offered anyone in such a position of power in China a bribe, as the countries of the west did not do that. They offered aid, trading benefits, and the like. But this would put Chew Won Hor into luxury beyond his dreams.

  “With this catastrophe, I can arrange it,” Chew said. “But I would have to share some of that, and there would not be much left for me.”

  The Chinese always bargained, and Baron was prepared. “I’ll tell you what. If you succeed in obtaining the invitation within two weeks, I’ll make it one million five hundred thousand dollars. But the Dalia Lama has to be given the right to travel in Tibet freely, without restriction, and allowed to stay, although with restrictions. I cannot guarantee that He will come, but I rather think so, as soon as He is convinced that He and the rest of the Tibetans are safe.”

  “Done,” Chew said. “I’ll make the arrangements. With all the chaos in Tibet now, I don’t think it will be too hard to arrange to let Him in. Some of the party members might want it at this time, thinking He will come down with Ebola if He comes in, as there are many here that refuse to believe the Tibetans are immune. They would like to see Him die from it.”

  “Good,” Baron said. In actuality, he had been prepared to go much higher in money to please his customer, Master Saunders.

  “Baron, I’ll call you with the confirmation within a day or two if I can arrange it. Will I find you on this number?”

  “Yes. I’ll wait for your call, as I wish to finish this business before moving on to another.”

  “Consider it done,” Chew said, deciding not to wait.

  Baron looked at Tak. “Governments have spen
t billions on all sorts of committees, organizations, conferences, salaried idiots, and expenses, all trying to get China to allow the Dalai Lama to return and give the Tibetan culture recognition. I, on the other hand, with a little virus, a call to the right place, and a paltry one-million-five-hundred-thousand, did it single handedly. Actually, I might not enjoy retiring as much as I thought, as this is business is really all too rewarding.”

  ***

  If one looked for a singular aspect of the Dalai Lama’s accomplishments in His later years, one had to consider the importance of the contacts He made. He spent most of His time going from one head of state to another, being received publically as a great exiled leader as though receiving Him attributed to them great social awareness of the oppressed. He was awarded many prizes, including the Nobel Peace Prize. He could call on heads of state, and that is just what He did when, by the most unusual turn of events, He received a formal invitation from China to return to Tibet to provide spiritual support for all those in the turmoil of the epidemic. He was offered an expiring visa approved for a single entry. The actual invitation was signed by a General Chew Won Hor, instead of a political leader, but He assumed that the military invitation was because of the turmoil from the epidemic and the need for martial law. To inquire into His own safety, He first called on the offices of the Prime Minister of India, in which country He and His Tibet-In-Exile government had been granted sanctuary. So as not to offend India by ignoring protocol, He contacted the Indian government first. Although He knew India was not in any way able to deal with Ebola, as it could hardly handle its own impoverished with their illnesses.

  He was told, as He knew in advance He would be, that in spite of the excellent medicine in India, its doctors had no clue as to how to deal with Ebola, nor did the country have the resources. He then called the Prime Minister of England, the White House, and the Prime Minister of Australia, to ask about the safety of possible travel to Tibet. The consensus was that, while all the reports available stated that there were no reports of Tibetans becoming infected, that He should not go as there was no way to ensure that every Tibetan was not subject to infection and, further, that things were in such a state of chaos that the risks of riot or uncontrollable lack of safety conditions made it unsafe to go.

  But evaluating all this, and hearing that no Tibetan had become infected, He found this to be a spiritual calling, no doubt the most significant in His life since His exile and perhaps the last significant act He would ever do for His Tibet. He gave an announcement that the catastrophe in Tibet that was killing the Chinese was most unfortunate, but that if the Chinese would allow Him to enter Tibet and provide spiritual comfort, it would be a magnanimous gesture by the Chinese government. Had He said anything else, His visa would never have been issued.

  Once He decided to go, a military plane from India was provided with volunteer pilots. A bonus of one year’s salary offered to the two Indian pilots willing to take the risk helped locate the needed crew. It was unknown if Indians were susceptible to the virus, but it was thought that the drop off of the passengers at the airport could be done in such a way at the end of the runway that exposure would be very minimal. The plane would fly in only long enough to drop off the Dalai Lama and His minimal contingent. It would then leave the airport immediately without having any service or fuel so as to minimize contamination. The plane and crew would be quarantined at a military base upon return to India.

  The followers of the Dalai Lama wanted to make His return into as big of an event as possible. While no new visas were issued to newsmen to enter Tibet, the local Tibetans were able to assemble video gear from local media stations and cameramen to get the event of His return on video. Tibetans in exile were also provided with video gear and arrangements were quickly made, with the help of the West, for satellite hookup to record the historic event live.

  A few days later, the Indian military cargo plane came in for a landing at the Lhasa airport. The plane came to a halt near the end of one of the runways, and the cargo door opened. The Dalai Lama was the first to exit. In His orange robes, He knelt down and kissed the ground. Following were His contingent, including some of His most loyal and life-long followers, and a half dozen Tibetans that had been trained to use camera equipment provided them by several news services.

  Unaffected by the epidemic, an enormous crowd of Tibetans, estimated at two hundred fifty thousand, came to the airport at Lhasa, or as close as they could get, lining the road to greet the holy man.

  The crowd overwhelmed the airport and the roads in. The hundred Chinese police and military monitoring the event, dressed in the limited bio-warfare suits and masks available, were so helpless and useless that they gave up very early in the morning and went back to their base of operations.

  Satellite transmission was set up by the Tibetans following Him in so the interested world could witness the historic event.

  In the family room of the Saunders home, Shanta and Andrew were closely watching the media event by satellite.

  At a stand erected for His initial speech in the holy country, the Dalai Lama seated Himself in the traditional Buddhist fashion and made ready the microphone to give a prayer in Tibetan to the huge crowd. The satellite photographers were bringing His image and speech around the world to news stations everywhere. His initial prayer in Tibetan was followed by the ritualistic chanting. Then, so as to communicate with His many supporters since His exile in 1959, He spoke in English.

  “For my many followers and supporters around the world that do not speak Tibetan, I wish to say a prayer in English. This one, which I gave in 1960, at the Swarg Ashram at Dharamsala, Kangra District, Himachal State, India, came to me following my exile. It is ‘Words of Truth,’ and honors the three jewels, Buddha, the Teachings, and the Spiritual Community. I think it is appropriate for this event.” He began his prayer: “O Buddhas, Bodhisattvas, and disciples of the past, present, and future...”

  On the other side of the globe, in front of their screen, Shanta said to Andrew, “We accomplished this!” She went to Andrew and held him tightly. And overcome with their achievement, they both began to cry.

  ***

  Mike Winger from the CIA came to Ralls’s office to give him an update on the mystery woman.

  “I still can’t find out any background on the woman,” Winger said. “It’s as though she never existed. She married Baron Von Limbach recently in Berlin, but he is so connected that his file is sealed like our president’s so no background information is accessible. She has no cell phones in her name that we can find. The only thing we know about her is that she only began to show up in places when she started traveling with Baron Von Limbach.

  “I’ve been able to find out that the two of them, as husband and wife, booked a flight to Astana, Kazakhstan. She has a German passport. From there, they hired a plane that is common there, but not allowed to be imported here, called an Antonov AN 2. It’s a huge biplane that has been used all over Russia and the former USSR satellites to ferry officers around. It holds about ten with the pilots. It can land anywhere, much like a Super Cub in Alaska. It flies very slowly, at about one hundred twenty five miles an hour, and it can land at a very rough field. It turns out that the two of them chartered one to Stepnogorsk as that has an abandoned airstrip which is full of potholes from years of weather and no maintenance since the Soviets left. I could only get information out of Astana, and that was that the plane returned on the fourth day.

  “There was a very special spring fair in Stepnogorsk at the time, called Nauryz. It is some really crazy event with all sorts of medieval horse games going on. So it’s possible that the baron, being very rich, took his new bride to the Nauryz fair that almost no one in the West has ever seen or will ever see as part of a very special honeymoon present.”

  Ralls became impatient. “Why are you telling me all this about a honeymoon?”

  “I just thought you might like to know that, in addition to the Nauryz spring fair, there is somethi
ng else of interest there.”

  “What?”

  “A level-four bio-warfare lab put there by the USSR.”

  ***

  Christine Rhyes-Walters entered Ralls’s office.

  “I want to thank you for coming to Homeland Security,” Ralls said as he stood to greet her. “It’s nice of you to take your time for us.”

  “No problem. You caught me just before I have to go to a conference in Europe. I’m leaving tomorrow.”

  “I won’t keep you long,” Ralls said.

  “I understand from your call that you want to know about what I observed at the former USSR anthrax production lab in Stepnogorsk, Kazakhstan?”

  “Yes, just that,” Ralls confirmed. “I’m looking for any lead that may arise regarding the outbreak of Ebola in Tibet. Since that place was a former mass production lab of anthrax, and a level-four bio-warfare lab, of which there are only a few, and they cost billions to put in, I wanted your first-hand impressions as to whether or not there was any sort of bio-warfare activity going on there. This outbreak in Tibet has us very worried to say the least.”

  She got interested and asked a delicate question that involved security matters. “Do you have information that the Ebola epidemic in Tibet is manmade as some sort of bio-warfare attack?”

  “No, no, we do not have any such information. We are just tracking down any possibility that it was not a natural outbreak. It might have been just an outbreak, perhaps initiated by someone bringing over the virus from Africa where these Ebola viruses originate. But it seems strange how a virus would originate in Africa that only infects the Chinese race since there only about a million on the entire continent of Africa, compared to about 1.5 billion worldwide.”