Military Orders

by Martin Roth

  “Sister, as you know, Brother Half Angel will be in charge of this mission. He now needs to brief you.”

  Sunhee nodded. She was ambivalent about this man. She admired and respected him. She knew he was strong and courageous, and that he had performed many great feats. But she wondered if he didn’t look down on her, as a result of her failure a year earlier. He had argued for her presence on that mission, and she had failed.

  He spoke. “We have chosen you for several reasons. One of these is because you speak the best English - by far the best English - of our people. The other is because you are the best.”

  Sunhee almost smiled.

  “Do you know the Dalai Lama?” asked Brother Half Angel.

  “Yes, of course. He’s the leader of the Buddhists. Their pope.”

  “That’s not a bad description. But he’s not the leader of the Buddhists. Just of the Tibetan Buddhists. And he’s really only the leader of one denomination of Tibetan Buddhism, the gelug. They actually have four main denominations. Anyway, you know that the Dalai Lama died a couple of years ago.” A laptop computer was on the desk before them, and the bishop brought up a photo of the late Dalai Lama on the monitor.

  She nodded.

  “And do you know how they choose a new one?”

  She pondered. “They find a child. It’s about reincarnation, isn’t it? But I don’t know exactly how it works.”

  “You are exactly right. They believe that after the Dalai Lama dies he is born again. Reincarnated. So it is necessary to find the person who is the reincarnation of the Dalai Lama. Their priests use all kinds of spiritual methods to find that person. It will probably be a child born soon after the Dalai Lama dies. Though the key point is that they believe that the Dalai Lama himself will decide when and how he will return to earth. So the senior lamas, when they are trying to find the new Dalai Lama, will usually wait at least a couple of years. They need to receive a lot of signs telling them where to find the new person. And they want the child himself to confirm that he is the reincarnation.”

  “How do they do that?”

  “Usually they present objects to the child. Some of these are objects that once belonged to the Dalai Lama. The child ought to recognize them immediately and call out ‘It’s mine,’ or something like that. Or they might introduce the child to certain people to see if he recognizes them - friends or acquaintances of the late Dalai Lama.”

  Sunhee waited.

  “You had a good point when you said the Dalai Lama is the leader of the Buddhists. Because that is how it seems. Once the Dalai Lama was an obscure and mysterious priest living in the mountains of Tibet. He was the leader of his particular branch of Tibetan Buddhism, and a kind of de facto leader of Tibet. But then he was forced to flee by the Communist Chinese and live in India, and a a result he has become an international figure. He is one of the most influential religious people in the world. You go to bookstores in Western countries and you’ll find them full of books by the Dalai Lama. Often more than books by any Christian leader. And he attracts huge audiences around the world. So after his death we decided on a plan. A particularly audacious plan. Although we have been praying about it for a year, and believe it is God’s plan. We decided that we will arrange for the priests, when they come searching for the new Dalai Lama, to choose a child from a Christian family.”

  “You mean it won’t be the real Dalai Lama?”

  “Exactly.”

  “That sounds - difficult.”

  The bishop smiled. “It is going to be very difficult. Especially as we always assumed it would be in Dharamsala.”

  “Dharamsala?”

  “That’s the small town in India that has become the headquarters for the Dalai Lama, and for much of Tibetan Buddhism.”

  “You mean you expected they would find the new Dalai Lama in Dharamsala?”

  “Yes. We knew it wouldn’t be in Tibet. The late Dalai Lama himself said he would not be reincarnated in Tibet. So we always assumed it would be Dharamsala, where he lived. I’m sure most people assumed that. Everyone in Dharamsala certainly did. That is why we had people there working for us.”

  “So what happened?”

  “It seems that the senior priests in Dharamsala, from all the various temples there, have been seeing all kinds of visions. The most recent ones were about a big red rock. Eventually they have connected these visions to a place called Uluru, in the center of Australia. Actually, it’s not so much a place - it’s a giant rock. A particularly sacred rock. There have been more visions, and the astrologers have also been involved, and now they know the town where the boy lives.”

  “So how on earth do you switch boys?”

  “That’s a good question. We had everything all arranged in Dharamsala. But in the Australian desert it is less easy. And we have had to move fast. Very, very fast. Fortunately there are a number of Christian families in that region, and we found one with a young son. We have been able to persuade them to allow him to be selected as the next Dalai Lama.”

  Sunhee guessed that by “persuade” the pastor meant “bribed” or “paid off.” The church was not just one of the biggest in the world – it was also certainly one of the wealthiest.

  “So the new Dalai Lama will be a Christian?”

  “Yes, that is the intention.”

  Sunhee considered this. “It sounds difficult to expect that a particular young boy, even if he is from a Christian family, will grow up himself to be a strong Christian.”

  “There are many, many uncertainties. Much prayer will be involved. And in the end, of course, it will be all in God’s hands.”

  “But what sort of Christian family allows their son to become the Dalai Lama?”

  “Sister Sunhee, you are quite right to be questioning this mission. It is true that things have not gone at all as we planned. We even thought about abandoning the whole mission. But through our branch churches in Australia we were very quickly able to find a family that will cooperate. We took that as a sign that we are doing God’s work. This is not like the 1930s when the last Dalai Lama was selected. Then he was taken away from his family and forced to live with the priests to be trained for his role. But they can’t expect that today. Who knows how it will work out?”

  “And my job?”

  “Is to protect the boy.”

  “Protect? From whom?”

  “There are several known enemies. One is the Chinese government. And you might be surprised to know that there are factions within Buddhism that oppose the Dalai Lama. So in many respects it is good that it is taking place in Australia. We imagine it will be much harder for enemies to be able to arrange to kidnap the child, or kill him, in a Western country.”

  “So I am going to Australia?”

  “Yes, very soon. We have heard from our contacts that Tibetan priests are flying to Australia very soon to interview a particular child.”

  “And how do you arrange that they go to the boy you have selected, not the real boy?”

  Brother Half Angel looked grim. “We have some very good contacts among the Tibetan priests. It will happen.” Sunhee could see that Bishop Lee did not look totally comfortable. She guessed that, again, money was involved.

  Brother Half Angel continued. “We will be taking full care of you. And we do not expect any real danger. You are to guard the child until the Tibetans confirm that he is the new Dalai Lama. We cannot be sure what will happen next. As we’ve been saying, things haven’t been developing the way we expected. If it happened in Dharamsala then the child would be whisked off to live in a temple, to be raised by priests. But we will try to make sure the child remains in Australia. So probably as soon as the priests confirm the child as the new Dalai Lama there will be some kind of announcement. We assume the Australian authorities will then become involved in making sure the child isn’t harmed. And the Tibetans too will want to guard him. So you’ll then come home.”

  Now Bishop Lee spoke. “Sister Sunhee - we have said we do not expect th
is to be a dangerous mission. We mean that. But you need to know that already one of our people has been killed. And the killer is still at large.”

  He brought up another picture on the laptop, an image of a young man. “This man’s father was a dear friend of mine, a missionary in Korea for many years. His two sons were born in Korea, and themselves became missionaries. The older one, he’s no longer a missionary - but he actually helped us once. The younger one, the man in the picture, worked closely with our church. He was a fine man. He believed in what we were doing, and now he has been murdered for it. I want you to remember him at all times. He has become a martyr of our church. His name is Matthew Harel.”

  Chapter 23

  Dharamsala, Northern India

  Tenzin walked in the driving rain through the Dharamsala throngs. He held aloft his umbrella, though he actually didn’t mind the warm northern Indian monsoonal rains, so unlike the hard, chill weather of Tibet.

  He had taken the bus up from his temple in the Kangra Valley. He was tense. The Rinpoche had ordered him to this meeting, and he knew something was afoot, but he did not know what it was.

  He wondered if he was to be reprimanded for his attack on the Christian’s brother. He guessed the Rinpoche was angry about that. But then how did the Rinpoche even know about it? And why was he being summoned to an apartment up here in Dharamsala? Who lived there? Who wanted to meet him?

  He had been issued with directions and he followed these, pushing his way uphill past lines of stores until he came to a small Chinese restaurant, with a couple of elderly customers inside slurping down noodles. Next to the restaurant, almost hidden by a large billboard, was a narrow set of stairs. Tenzin ascended and found a single door at the top. He knocked, and a voice ordered him in.

  Leaving his umbrella outside on the floor he entered and found himself inside a small room, almost bare but for a table and several chairs. Behind these was an alcove with a window that apparently looked out over the street.

  The familiar figure of the Rinpoche - a small, squat, elderly man with glasses and a hearing aid - sat at the table, dressed in his maroon robes, along with another man he did not recognize.

  “Sit down,” said the Rinpoche as soon as he entered the room. “We need to talk. This is Mr Wang. He has just arrived in Dharamsala.”

  Tenzin froze for an instant when he heard the Chinese name. Then he gave him a cursory bow and sat. The man was examining some documents on the table before him and seemed barely to have noticed Tenzin’s arrival. He appeared to be around forty, with a chubby face and a solid build. He was dressed like a golf pro, with cream trousers and a white cotton shirt. His shoulders were broad, his arms impressively muscled.

  Tenzin was not so naive as to believe that everything he had been doing had been simply for the cause of pure Buddhism. He knew that the Chinese also despised the late Dalai Lama. He could guess that they would be doing all in their powers to influence the outcome of the search for a successor. But so long as he kept his distance, he was able to believe that his own actions were just for the purpose of protecting the dharma, with no ulterior motive.

  He had always assumed the Rinpoche felt the same way. But now he had to ask himself - was the Rinpoche working together with the Chinese? That was a shock.

  The Rinpoche spoke. “Mr Wang has come here rather urgently. We have a matter to discuss with you.” He was speaking in their native Tibetan. But now he switched to English, apparently for the Chinese man’s benefit. “I must raise another issue. The brother of the Christian, a man named Professor Harel, he was here recently. We advised you of that. And you attacked him.”

  Tenzin wondered if the man had complained to the police? Possibly. Though the police had never come to their temple seeking the attacker. However, Tenzin had mentioned what he did to a couple of friends at the temple. He guessed one of them must have passed on the information to the Rinpoche.

  “He was asking too many questions,” said Tenzin. “Like his brother.”

  “Did anyone order you to attack him?” asked Mr Wang. He too spoke in English.

  Tenzin had already taken a dislike to this Chinese man. He said nothing, but just lowered his head, in apparent contrition.

  “He had not become a threat,” said Mr Wang. “It would have become very difficult if you had killed him. The police would have had no choice but to carry out a real investigation. It is fortunate he did not go to the police and complain. That might have been awkward.”

  He looked at the Rinpoche, and then back at Tenzin. “I understand that he got the better of you,” he continued. “That is actually very lucky. It would have been a problem if you had beaten him badly, which might have forced the police to investigate. It is equally fortunate - for you, that is - that he did not beat you to a pulp. Do you think we do not know what is going on in this town?”

  He did not wait for Tenzin’s response. “We have our people well placed. We were watching that man. And we made our own attempt to find out what he was doing here. Did you find out what he is doing here?”

  “No.”

  “Did you know that he has now left India?”

  Tenzin shook his head.

  “We helped arrange that. We have good contacts with the police. It is better that he be gone. As far as we can tell, his visit here really was to find out what happened to his brother, just as he said. Probably there was no other motive. But we are also unhappy that you killed the Christian without learning as much as possible about what he was doing here.”

  Tenzin looked at the Rinpoche. It was the Rinpoche who had told him the Christian needed to be killed.

  “He was asking too many questions,” said the Rinpoche. “Our temple has very good intelligence gathering, and the Christian kept trying to find out what we knew. He wanted to know our attitude to the process of discovering the new Dalai Lama, what our attitude would be when he was discovered, what we had heard so far about efforts to find him. And unfortunately, we believe that one or two of our monks revealed far too much.”

  Tenzin felt uncomfortable. It seemed the Rinpoche, a man he loved and admired, was groveling to this Chinese visitor.

  “It is very strange for a Christian to take such an interest in the process of discovering a new Dalai Lama,” said Mr Wang. “We wanted very much to find out his motive and who he was really working for. But you arranged to kill him.”

  The Rinpoche remained silent. Tenzin wanted somehow to defend him.

  “In any case, these matters are now all in the past,” said Mr Wang at last. “We have another matter. An urgent matter.”

  He became silent, as if to engender a feeling of suspense. But Tenzin was full of mixed emotions - first the introduction to this Chinese man, whom, he quickly decided, he did not trust, and then the reprimand. He felt humiliation.

  “The situation is serious,” said the man. “Over the past couple of weeks it has gradually become clear that the new Dalai Lama is not from Tibet or Dharamsala. We never expected Tibet. The late Dalai Lama himself said that he would not be reincarnated in Tibet while it was under Chinese rule.”

  He glanced at the Rinpoche, then looked back at Tenzin. “But we did expect Dharamsala. This is a big interruption to our planning. We were of course well equipped to undertake this mission in Dharamsala. But what we are learning is that senior priests are more and more convinced that the new Dalai Lama is going to be found in Australia, of all places. Somewhere in the central Australian desert. We have our people in the various temples here, and they are going to get for us the exact location. Now the point is that we have no one in place in Australia to help us. We need someone with good English.”

  He stared hard at Tenzin, almost a glare, full of menace. “We are sending you to Australia. Your Rinpoche has agreed.”

  Tenzin wondered if he had any say in all this. He looked at the Rinpoche, who nodded. “Mr Wang will be your controller. He will arrange a passport for you, a New Zealand passport, that will allow you easy entry to Australia. H
e will provide the necessary money, weapons and all other provisions. Your task is very simple. It is to kidnap the child who has been identified as the new Dalai Lama and deliver him to Mr Wang. It will be a quick and easy job. You should be in and out of Australia in twenty-four hours.”

  “What is important is that the child not be killed,” said Mr Wang. “As you know, this is the new Dalai Lama. If he dies he just comes back again.” He smiled an oily smile, indicating that he did not believe any of this.

  Tenzin felt shattered. Why was the Rinpoche helping the Chinese? And as he reflected on the mission ahead it occurred to him that if the Chinese man could arrange a false passport and a weapon he was clearly of high ranking, and could easily find someone else to do this job. He needed Tenzin in order that he - and whomever he represented - the Chinese government, presumably - could be kept at arm’s length from the operation if anything went wrong. In that case he would be able to blame everything on a bunch of Buddhist fanatics.

  Tenzin knew that he hated this man with a burning intensity.

  Chapter 24

  Melbourne, Australia

  Chodrak knew that he was the rising star of Bollywood. He was the anointed one, the director with the golden touch. In an industry where most productions crashed, his two previous movies had not only turned a profit, they had been super-duper blockbusters. Now the financiers were knocking at his door, eager to invest in his new projects. That was the problem.

  Seated in his director’s chair, on a hillside above all the action, he fingered the porcelain Buddhist charm that he wore around his neck and watched as the dance coordinator once more worked to maneuver twenty ladies into position. This would become the grand finale of the movie. It was a difficult routine, involving numerous intricate steps and, right at the end, the entry of some dancing animals. At least that bit would be done with computers.

  Of course the eight professional dancers he had brought with him from India quickly learned the steps. But the other dozen ladies had been recruited here in Melbourne, through a local Bollywood dance academy, and though they were enthusiastic, they were not professionals. It was another example of things going wrong.