The Brad West Files

by Fritz Galt

  “How did you get here?” he asked Earl over his shoulder.

  “Did the maze inside the cave. You could have warned me about the bats, though.”

  What bats?

  “How did you know we were in trouble?”

  Earl thumped him on the back. “There was a burning barge. I figured with all the trouble you attract, it had to be you.”

  Brad hadn’t caused all this. It was Liang. But if he hadn’t stolen Liang’s girl, maybe the guy would have stuck with squashing small nations instead of taking on the world.

  He came to a sudden stop.

  “What is the matter?” May said, and squeezed his hand.

  “Just think about all the trouble we two have caused,” Brad said. “Liang wouldn’t be like this if it weren’t for me interfering with his life.”

  “Are you sending me back to him?” she said.

  “No.” He couldn’t do that.

  “If nobody stands up to Liang, who will?”

  “You like me because you want to get back at Liang?” That would have been a poor excuse for marriage.

  “No,” she said emphatically. “Because I like you, Liang will fail.”

  “So, you’re saying, we’ve got to stay together?”

  “Not just for Liang. For us.”

  He had never heard such selfishness from her before. Yet, there was a kind of logic behind it.

  “Listen,” he told her. “I’m willing to give this a try. I’m just tired of making Liang go ballistic. Look at tonight.”

  “I’m tired of it, too. Let’s do something about it.”

  “What?”

  She shrugged.

  He liked her determination, even when she came up short on ideas.

  “So we’re good?” she asked.

  “Always were.”

  Man it was good to have that chat. Every relationship should be blessed with such clarity.

  “So are we going, or what?” Earl said.

  The palace was awash in torchlight. Dr. Yu led the party of young men and women up the staircase embedded with precious stones. Brad saw rubies and emeralds among the mother of pearl and red coral.

  They walked past marble columns that encircled a throne. The seat of power for the kalika ruler looked down on an intricate pietra dura design inlaid in the marble floor. Brad recognized the maze in the design. The series of walls and gates led to the golden throne of Lord Kalachakra and Shiva. And that was where he stood.

  He raised his eyes to the throne. There Liang sat intertwined with the dancer from the barge.

  Maybe they were the true rulers of Kalapa. With their resplendent yellow robes and attractive features, they certainly fit the part.

  Yu stood squarely before the throne and cleared his throat. Brad waited for another dispassionate observation to spill from the scientist’s lips. Instead came a roar. “Leave my palace at once!”

  The words echoed around the domed chamber.

  A leg moved. Then the knees drew away from the woman. With a swish of fine silk, Liang turned to see who was so impudent as to address him in that manner.

  He sprang to his feet.

  “What are you doing here?”

  Yu responded in a commanding voice. “I am here because I am the kalika. You, young man, are an imposter. Get off of my throne.”

  “Baba,” May whispered. He was embarrassing her.

  But Brad liked the authority in his voice.

  “Stick it to him,” he urged.

  The dancer jumped down and scampered behind a pillar to watch.

  “I thought you perished on the barge. All of you.” Liang’s eyes shot from Brad to May. Then they landed on Jade and Earl. “What are you two doing here?”

  Earl looked down at his feet, then jumped. “Mind if I borrow a loincloth or something?” he asked Brad.

  “Yeah, fine.” The poor guy was buck-naked.

  Brad slipped out of his wet shirt. Earl wrapped it around his waist and up between his legs like a sumo wrestler.

  Liang pointed down at Jade. “I should have known. You’ve spoiled things before. But now that we’ve found paradise, I invite you to join me.”

  Brad had heard enough. “Get lost, Liang. This ain’t paradise as long as you’re in it.”

  May turned to her father. “Why is Liang so nasty?”

  “Nasty” wasn’t the word that came to Brad’s mind, but he bit his tongue.

  “You see, my Little Butterfly, this young man has not sipped from the rejuvenating waters. He is adhering strictly to the Shangri-la Code. The ruler of paradise cannot live forever.”

  “Well, that’s the best news I’ve heard all day,” Earl said, and looked Liang up and down.

  Yu motioned for Liang to get off the throne. “As long as I’m alive, that’s my throne.”

  Then Brad heard bushes rustle behind them. “I can take care of that,” a voice said with a Southern drawl.

  The dancer emerged from behind the pillar and sprang straight at the speaker.

  “Yowza!”

  A shot rang out. Yu ducked and a bullet ricocheted off a pillar behind the throne.

  “Ha!” Liang laughed.

  The bullet glanced off another pillar. Brad threw May to the ground.

  It whistled straight for the throne and entered Liang’s open mouth.

  There it thudded in the back of the would-be monarch’s throat. His round mouth was frozen mid-expression. Then blood trickled between his teeth and dribbled down his chin.

  All those present watched with shock. Liang stared down at the perpetrator. His eyes bulged with incredulity, then gradually rolled upward. Moments later, his knees crumpled and he dropped to the ground in a heap of golden fabric.

  “Yes!” Brad said, and pumped a fist in the air. His long-time nemesis was finally dead. He and May would be free of him forever.

  But Shangri-la couldn’t afford a gunman on the loose. Brad swiveled around. “Stop that man!”

  The dancer had already taken care of the shooter. All that was visible was the bottom of the woman’s sandals and a man’s knees thrust apart.

  Brad rushed with the others to see who it was.

  The dancer struggled off the overweight man and peeled a handgun out of his gloved hand. Then she lifted the gun triumphantly over her head.

  “I’ll take that,” Yu said, and delicately relieved her of the weapon.

  The man on the ground floundered in the lush foliage for a second, then managed to sit up. His black hair was askew.

  “Buford?” The uncertainty in Yu’s voice matched Brad’s own surprise.

  Jade leaned down and flipped the toupee into the forest.

  Brad gasped. It was his stepfather, Professor Richter.

  “You were Buford all along,” he said.

  “Oh, yeah,” Earl said. “Your dad told me to warn you that Richter was pardoned and had skipped town.”

  “I heard that.”

  “Uh, he also told me that President Webster is missing.”

  “Knew that.”

  “That the world economy is faltering?”

  “Didn’t know that.”

  “Yeah. Seems they need a little reassurance back home.”

  Brad examined his fallen stepfather. A respected anthropologist, he had sought the limelight under various identities. Somehow, Brad had always managed to expose him just before terrible harm came to the world. The guy was defrocked once again and looking ugly.

  But Brad felt no vindication. Nor did he feel sympathy. Instead, a melancholy settled over him. How far one could fall.

  “I wish the bullet had hit all of you,” Richter was saying, his drawl replaced by a rough Western twang. “Coulda taken out Mr. Goody Two Shoes, Mr. Nobel Prize.”

  “You talking about me?” Brad said.

  “No. Dr. Yu. But I wouldn’t have minded if it blew your head off, too. You’ve always been the illegitimate son that never should have been.”

  “Hey. That hurt.”

  The defeated man
’s eyes roved from person to person, then stopped on Jade, who stood glistening in her nakedness.

  Earl stepped forward and kicked the guy in the balls. “Take your eyes off her, you horny slob. That’s my job. I mean, that’s my wife you’re staring at.”

  Just then, President Webster came running up. “I heard a shot.”

  Close on his heels came Adolf, Josef and FDR.

  “What in the name of Mein Kampf?” Earl recoiled from the sight.

  Webster saw Liang’s golden form heaped on the ground and prodded it with a toe.

  “Never fear, gentlemen,” Yu said, taking charge. “You just get some sleep, and I’ll clean up this mess.”

  “Could you use a hand?” Adolf asked.

  Yu shook his head.

  “You know where to find me,” Josef added.

  Yu smiled. “Bye guys. Remember our mahjongg game tomorrow.”

  “Oh, right,” FDR said. “You deal.”

  “New Deal,” Josef ribbed.

  The three men left, laughing.

  But that did leave a problem on their hands. What to do with the body. Brad had no stomach for gore, but Jade and May were bending over Liang with curiosity. Jade had pried Liang’s head back and examined his mouth. May checked the pulse and shook her head.

  The blood was minimal, and the end had come quickly for the young man. But not quickly enough for the rest of the world.

  Meanwhile, Webster was fascinated by the sight of Beau Buford sitting there unmasked. “You know,” the president said. “When I pardoned Richter, I didn’t know I was pardoning you.”

  Buford smirked. “You didn’t pardon me. You pardoned Richter.”

  “But aren’t you Beau Buford?”

  Earl led the confused president away from the scene. “Listen, Prez. We’ve got a problem back on planet Earth. It seems that the stock market crashed big time and everyone’s worried that you’re dead. Some people are kinda blaming the Chinese. What can we do about this situation?”

  Webster leaned against one of the pillars and thought. “I suppose I could resign.”

  Earl sucked his cheek for a moment. “I suppose that would work. I could carry your letter of resignation to the American Embassy tomorrow morning.”

  “Fine.”

  “You don’t mind the extra paperwork?”

  “No trouble.”

  “Good. Then it’s settled.”

  Brad rolled his eyes. Who needed a president who gave up his job so willingly?

  Yu stood guard over Brad’s stepfather. “What should we do with this guy,” he asked.

  “I say we send him back.”

  Yu looked into Brad’s eyes. “You don’t want me to deal with him here?”

  “No. Quite the opposite.” Richter deserved a fate worse than that.

  And how about his fate, and May’s? Brad was surrounded by people who had made their mark on the world and lived up to their full potential. He wasn’t there yet. He would explore and add much to the field of anthropology. He felt it in his bones. “I’m going back to Beijing, and I’d like to take May with me.”

  Yu closed his eyes. “You are a wise man. I will miss you, but I have a duty to perform here. I must remain and fulfill what’s set forth in the code.”

  Brad had already sensed that. Yu was at peace in his role and had performed his duties well. The secret of Shangri-la would be kept for another generation.

  While he was thinking about generations, he remembered his dad back in Langley. “Hey Earl. You talked to my real father.” He pointedly looked past Richter.

  “Yep. Said if you ever made it to your wedding, he’d bring a date.”

  “Dad would?” Brad said. “A date?”

  “Yeah, some hot honey from the ranks of government bureaucracy.”

  “Sounds intriguing.” But there was little enthusiasm left in his voice. He looked over at May, who, along with Jade was peeling back Liang’s trousers and comparing notes.

  There would be no wedding.

  Chapter 71

  The next morning, Brad shouted to Earl, who was climbing up to the cave with Jade. “You’ve got the president’s resignation letter?”

  Earl waved it in the air. “Right here.”

  The two pairs of friends were on their way to the embassy in Beijing to set the world right again. The first step in rectifying the disorder in government and the markets was to provide an orderly transition of power to the vice president.

  Brad squeezed May’s hand and helped her up a steep slope.

  Once in Beijing, they would fall back into their old routines. Dr. Yu would no longer be at the university to mentor Brad, but Brad’s relationships with other faculty there were solid, and he would be out in the field digging up fossils soon. May would return to the space program and continue to work her way up to secure a seat on a future space flight.

  Earl and Jade? Well, they were married and could get down to business in their Beijing apartment.

  As for Brad’s step dad, Richter had been packed back on his business jet that still sat on the runway at Shangri-la International Airport. The pilot had been given strict instructions to fly him to the nearest jail cell in Bhutan.

  Earl came to an abrupt halt at the entrance to the cave. He turned and sized up May in her bra and panties. “Ah, I’d put on your clothes.” He reached to the ground and grabbed her pants and blouse.

  “Why would you wear my clothes?”

  “Was that a joke?” Earl said.

  “Hey, you might want to grab your wife’s clothes, too,” Brad said. Her wardrobe still hung from the branch of a tree.

  Dressed again, the foursome entered the cave, a dark and cold passageway handcarved in solid rock. Brad had to remember the mandala backwards. “What’s opposite and backwards of left, straight, right, left, right?”

  Jade had the quickest response. “That would be left, right, left, straight, right.”

  “You sure about that?” Brad said.

  “You can count on it,” she said. “If you don’t believe me, don’t follow us.”

  “Eat my dust,” Earl said.

  “My lord and I will eat your dust,” May said.

  Even though Jade and Earl’s footsteps faded away before them, Brad felt Jade had charted out the right path. He used his toes to feel for steps that led downward through the inside of the mountain. If they took a wrong turn, they could spend the rest of their lives looking for a way back up to Shangri-la, or down to earth.

  At last, light glimmered ahead. One final turn, and he and May broke free of the maze.

  A cold wind blew across the face of the mountain. The weather was inhospitable like the day before, the rocky landscape was just as barren, and Liang’s jet airplane, the Cessna, still stood waiting on the small landing strip.

  But Jade and Earl’s plane was gone.

  May looked around. “Did they leave already?”

  It hardly seemed likely.

  Maybe they had passed the couple in the cave, and someone had stolen their airplane.

  Brad called back into the dark hole. But there was no response, other than the echo of his voice. He straightened up and looked at the lone Cessna Citation X before them. How strange and empty the world seemed without his buddy and his foxy bride.

  He was at a loss for what to do. He and May had intended to fly together with their friends back to Beijing, inform President Qian of Liang’s death, and pick up the strands of their former, unmarried life.

  “I am no fly in Beijing,” she said.

  “What?” He got the Beijing part.

  She indicated the Cessna. “I am not wanting to fly.”

  “I agree. We should wait for Mr. and Mrs. Skitowsky.”

  He checked his watch. It was one o’clock, Friday afternoon. Friday? Either someone had reset his watch or the battery was dying. He checked the second hand. It was still ticking.

  “Mind if I see your watch?” he asked.

  She showed him the time. It read Friday as well.<
br />
  “Could it still be Friday?” he asked.

  In the hazy light, she squinted at her watch and gave him a funny look.

  “Check this out,” he said. “My watch says Friday, too.”

  She looked at his watch. Then double-checked her own.

  “That is strange. How is this?”

  How could no time have passed whatsoever? It was as if they had never entered the cave the day before.

  He thought back to Troy and Walter in Shangri-la. The two bankers had been surprised to read that Brad’s newspaper was dated some time in their future. Based on that information, they had flown out of Shangri-la, presumably to buy stocks and cash in on the advance warning.

  In fact, come to think of it, he had seen the two CEOs’ airplane fly over the meadow at the base of Jade Dragon Snow Mountain hours before it actually took off in Shangri-la.

  “There seems to be a time gap between the two places,” he said under his breath.

  Now he could see why people like Hitler never returned to the real world. While in Shangri-la, Adolf was frozen in time. If he returned to the outer world, he would return to 1945, the day he entered Shangri-la. Thus, he would return shortly before the fall of Berlin. Later guests to Shangri-la like Stalin must have told him what was to come and what would await him.

  One could make money luring rich people to Shangri-la for a glimpse of the future. And that was exactly the kind of thing a Liang or Richter would act upon.

  It was hard for an academic to admit, but nobody should learn about Shangri-la. The secret code developed by Truman, Churchill and Stalin was justified.

  May studied the makeshift airfield, the sky, then the position of the sun. “It is feeling like we have done this before.”

  It certainly did. They had been there at that very moment, but a day earlier. Now they were there again, on the same day.

  He thought back to the Shangri-la Code. “Do you suppose this is why we weren’t supposed to drink the water?”

  “Only my father is not supposing to drink it,” she said.

  “Maybe time goes on for him, but it stands still for those who drink the rejuvenating waters in Shangri-la.”

  She searched his eyes. “Then time is not gone for us.”