by Martin Roth
“He had a vision. Or a dream.” She shrugged. “Or maybe just an idea. That the church - the church around the world, not just our church - should be doing more about what seems like a growing wave of persecution against Christians. It sometimes seems that the church is being wiped out in many places. And Christians are being killed.”
“It’s being wiped out in Europe, because no one cares any more.”
“The pastor was thinking more about Africa and Asia and the Middle East, where Christians are often in the minority, and are under attack. He thought Christians should be doing more to help them. Not just prayer or financial support, but actual help to defend themselves against attacks.”
“Tough guy stuff?”
“In a way, yes. Members of our church did a lot of research into church history and they found things that most Christians don’t seem to know any more. That there used to be a lot of military orders in the church. They were a mainstream practice.”
“The Templars. The Hospitallers.”
“You know about them?”
“I spent years at theological college doing lots of study. But they’re from hundreds of years ago. The time of the Crusades. When Christians could raise their own armies, supported by the state. You couldn’t do that now.”
“Well, our church can. Not whole armies. But fighters. Men and women who can fly out and provide covert support…”
“Muscle.”
She shrugged. “We have lots of people who know how to use weapons. In South Korea every man does three years military service. We’ve set up our own Christian military order, the New Mercedarians. We can send small teams to churches that are being attacked by their enemies. We can help protect them. We can help evacuate Christians who are under attack. That kind of thing.”
“I think I might have even helped one of your operations. That time in Japan. I met some crazy guy who called himself - what was it? - Brother Half Angel. Something like that.”
“You met him?”
“He was in Japan on some kind of operation. He seemed to believe that guns were the answer to every problem. Are you involved with him?”
“Yes. He’s in charge of this operation.”
“So which Christians are under attack in the desert of central Australia?”
“Our pastor’s plan is that we do more than just protect persecuted Christians. He has big plans for spreading Christianity. And, well, he saw an opportunity when the Dalai Lama died two years ago. He saw how the Dalai Lama had been so successful in bringing Buddhism to a Western audience. He wondered what might happen if the next Dalai Lama were secretly a Christian. So he arranged for a different child to be picked as the new Dalai Lama.”
“A different child…?”
“That little boy who’s been kidnapped…look, Rafa…” She went silent. Then, “He’s not the real Dalai Lama. Not the real one that all those priests in India or wherever have picked.”
“Dharamsala.”
“Yes, yes. Dharamsala. The Buddhists there believe some little boy in central Australia is the new Dalai Lama. It all sounds crazy. But our church went and arranged for them to find another little boy. From a Christian family. Who’ll grow up to be a Christian.”
“How do you guarantee in this day and age that any kid will grow up to be a Christian? I can introduce you to any number of good American Christian parents who would love to know the answer to that question.”
“I had the same question. But he’s from a Christian family.”
“Doesn’t mean a thing, in my experience. So what’s your role. You said you were guarding this boy.”
“That’s right. He has enemies. As has been pretty well established. And my job was to protect him for as long as necessary.”
“Do you have weapons? A gun?”
“I actually do now. As I told you. When I fought off that little guy who tried to kidnap the boy I got his gun. Plus bullets. I have it hidden in the house.”
“A little red-faced guy?”
“Yes.”
“He’s the one we’re after. He got the boy from the Bollywood director. Who got him from two theology students, who must have snatched him when you weren’t looking.”
“Who knew there was so much going on in the Australian desert?”
“So Uncle Barra knew what he was telling us,” mused Harel. “One more question. My brother - Matt. He was working for you? For your program?”
“I presume so. We have lots of friends working for us. Christians who believe in what we’re doing. So yes, he was a missionary from your father’s church, a genuine missionary. But he was doubling as ears and eyes for us in Dharamsala. Along with quite a few others, as far as I know. We’re a big church, with branches around the world. So we were able to gather lots of information from Dharamsala, and of course everyone expected that the new Dalai Lama would be found there.”
Her cellphone rang. She spoke for a few minutes. Then she looked at Harel with a wry smile. “That was actually Brother Half Angel himself.”
“Speak of the - what? Devil? Angel?”
“This operation has been called off. But he says that, off the record, it would be good if I could at least get the boy back before I fly home. He said he’s had his contacts in Dharamsala very busy, trying to find out anything more that they can. Well, it seems someone told them about a Buddhist from America - whether he’s Tibetan or American, I don’t know - who flew out here a few days ago. It seems he might be a Dorje Shugden supporter. And it seems he’s come to this part of Australia and rented a property of some kind. I know it’s a long shot, but I think we should go out to that place.”
“That sounds exactly like what we should be doing,” agreed Harel. “And I think we should first stop at your home and get that gun.”
Chapter 51
Burumarri Creek, Central Australia
They drove back to Sunhee’s residence, and Harel waited while she went inside, then re-appeared with a handbag, presumably containing the gun. Then they drove for forty minutes to the other side of the giant rock, to the address that she had been given - a sprawling complex of pre-fabricated cabins inside a caravan park, apparently designed for holiday makers.
“They told me it’s house Number Eleven,” said Sunhee.
The complex was vast, and they drove for several minutes before they found the correct unit. A car was outside, a roomy Ford Falcon. “That’s not the little guy’s car,” said Harel. “Though I crashed his into a tree. I guess he called someone to pick him up and abandoned his own one.”
He got out and walked gingerly around the cottage. All the curtains were drawn and he could not see inside. He went back to Sunhee. “We should probably just call the police.”
“No,” said Sunhee with surprising force. “The police don’t trust me. They think I’m involved. And I’m going to get that boy back. I have to, for the sake of this operation. For the sake of my church’s whole mission.”
“If you are right with your information, there’s a killer inside that cottage. A pretty desperate killer.”
“There’s also a kidnapped boy in there, and I’m responsible for him. You don’t know anything about me. I’ve dealt with killers in my time. We’ll wait here until someone comes out of the house. I have a gun.”
“We should have brought some food with us. We could be here quite a while. And don’t forget that at night in winter the temperature drops dramatically.” He thought. “Look, why don’t we see if we can rent one of these cabins?”
Sunhee assented, and they drove back - nearly one mile - to an office at the entrance to the facility. An old lady who seemed more interested in watching “Dancing with the Stars” on television than in serving customers was on duty, and they were able to rent a cottage for one night, right by Number Eleven.
The premises consisted of a living room/bedroom/kitchen and an adjoining small bedroom. Sunhee took a position by a window, looking out at the adjoining cabin.
On a stainless steel bench was
an electric kettle and some courtesy tea bags and sachets of instant coffee and sugar. Harel boiled water and brewed two cups of coffee. “What’s that about dealing with killers?” He sat at a table.
“I’m from North Korea. I tried to escape into China. I got captured and was put into a prison camp. There were plenty of murderers there, among the other prisoners. Among the guards, too. I escaped and made it into China, and eventually into South Korea. I’ve met lots of killers. But I know I’ve been looked after by Jesus. I wear this special crucifix to remind me.” She fingered the ornament around her neck.
“Well, it certainly didn’t turn you into a pacifist. Now you’re talking about defending Christians by the sword. Didn’t Jesus say that he who lives by the sword will die by the sword?”
“You’ve lived in South Korea. What would you have done if the North invaded? Turn the other cheek? Run away?”
Harel was embarrassed by the question. “It’s true. When our family was living there I remember that we did have emergency plans to get out if the North ever invaded. But that was because we knew American Christian missionaries would be among the first targets of the North Korean soldiers. But you’re right, you do have to fight back against a tyrant country like that.”
“From what I’ve been told, your brother Matthew knew that very well. He saw what was happening to Christians around the world. He knew we have to fight. What about you? Are you even a Christian?”
“Of course. I go to church. Most Sundays. I…”
“And do you believe that Christianity and Christians should be defended?”
“Well, that’s mainly up to Christians themselves. I mean, in the West, especially in Europe, Christians have been dropping like flies. Not many people over there seem to believe much any more. I don’t feel so inclined to defend them if they’re in trouble.” He sipped at his coffee. “Anyway, don’t you have trust in God? Doesn’t He have a big plan?”
“Maybe His plan is that my church steps up to the plate - isn’t that what you say in America?” - Harel nodded - “steps up to the plate and uses its power, its God-given power, to defend Christians who don’t have the resources to defend themselves. So what do you believe? You were raised in a strong Christian family.”
“Yes, I think that’s been my problem. I became a super Christian. At school. At college. And I became a missionary in Japan. And then I fell in love with Japan and Japanese culture. I didn’t drop my religion. But I dropped my enthusiasm. I began to study art. First Japanese art. Then Asian art. And then I started to specialize in spiritual art. And I married a Japanese girl.”
“Was she a Christian?”
“Not really. She wasn’t anything. But she was happy to come to church with me. And in America she was baptized. By my father. He was pretty thrilled. He kind of felt a special responsibility for her. So I think he was as upset as me when she ran off with one of my best friends. He even vaguely seemed to believe it was somehow my fault.”
“Oh dear.”
“He did everything he could to reconcile us. But I was adamant. No more. And then he tricked me.”
“Tricked you? Your father?”
“I’d moved to California. One time I was back home for a visit, and of course on Sunday went to church with the family. And then suddenly during the service my father asked me to come up to the front. I thought he wanted to welcome me. Instead he brought out my wife. She’d been waiting out the back. And she got down on her knees and said she still loved me. She said she’d been bad in running away - she made it clear in front of the whole congregation that she’d run off with another man - and then she said she repented and she asked me to forgive her and take her back. She started crying as well. What could I say? In front of the whole congregation?”
“You could have told her you forgave her. And taken her back.”
“I didn’t want to see her ever again. I hated her. Do you know what it means to have the person you love betray you?”
“Yes,” said Sunhee simply. “I do.”
Harel looked at her for an instant, then continued. “Worse was to come. Then my father went to the microphone and said that God was commanding me to take her back as my wife. He said that he was ordering me to take her back, on God’s behalf. This is in front of the whole congregation.”
“Maybe that was what God commanded.”
“Yeah, right. So it means I’m disobedient. But I haven’t been struck down with lightning.”
“What did you do?”
“I’m actually very articulate. And very quick. I could have destroyed her with words. Along with my father and the church. But I just said I would consider it. Then I walked out, went back to my parents’ place, collected my bags and flew home to California. I haven’t seen them since.”
“And how long are you planning to maintain your little temper tantrum?”
He smiled. “Everyone thinks I hate my dad now, but I don’t. He was doing what he believed was right. Maybe it really was God’s command that I take her back. I don’t know. I wasn’t entirely flippant when I said I’m disobedient. But it means God’s got a heck of a lot of more work to do in softening my hardened heart. Because I can’t see any way that I’m taking back my ex-wife anytime soon. But there’s going to be some kind of memorial service eventually for Matt, back home, so I’ll fly over for that. And I want to see my new nephew. So I’m going to be seeing Mum and Dad again soon.”
“Quite a story.”
“I’m going to make more coffee. Do you…”
“Shh. Something’s happening.”
Harel stood and walked to the window. It was getting dark, and a light had been switched on by the entrance to the other cottage. Then the front door opened and two men appeared. One was almost certainly the young Tibetan.
“That’s him,” whispered Harel.
“That’s him,” agreed Sunhee.
“They’re not with the kid. I wonder where they’re heading.”
“Probably to buy in some supplies.”
“Goodness knows where they go. There can’t be many shops around here.”
“There was a gas stand that we passed. Remember? I’ll bet they’re going there.”
“So they’ll be gone at least twenty minutes.”
“They’ll probably have left the little boy asleep in the cottage.”
“But are there more people there? We don’t know. Surely they wouldn’t leave the boy alone. Take your gun.”
They watched the car leave the site, and then walked quickly outside.
“I’m going to take a big chance,” said Harel. He walked to the front door and turned the handle. The door actually opened. “Come on.”
They tiptoed inside. The layout seemed identical to their own cottage. A light was still on in the living room. And there on the sofa slept the boy.
“Wonderful,” said Sunhee. “I’ll take him and then we need to get out of here as fast as possible.”
She put the gun in the back pocket of her jeans and went and picked up the boy, who stirred, but miraculously did not appear to wake up. She held him tight. “Let’s go,” she whispered.
“No,” said a voice. A man appeared at the other door, pointing a pistol.
Chapter 52
Burumarri Creek, Central Australia
About thirty minutes later, a limping Tenzin returned with his colleague, carrying a bag of supplies. He seemed ecstatic to find Sunhee and Harel, sitting on the floor of his cabin, guarded by another companion. The child was asleep again on the sofa.
He pointed at Harel. “You know something? When you embarrassed me in India, I felt sure that I would get my revenge. And I did. I went to your hotel and captured you. But then you crashed the car and escaped, which embarrassed and angered me even more. But here you are again, back under my control.”
He smirked in self-satisfaction, as if he were a domestic cat that had brought down a zebra or antelope or some other prey of overwhelming size. “And this lady who stole my gun.” He looked a
t her with distaste. “Here she is too, under my control.”
He pushed Harel in the chest with his finger. “Professor - you’re a professor, aren’t you? I’ve found that out about you - don’t you feel that there is something telling people who harm me to come back for atonement? Isn’t there something driving you? Something forcing you to come back under my control?”
“No, I don’t feel that at all.”
“Do you know karma?”
“I do, actually. I’ve made quite a study of it in my profession. And those who believe in karma will tell you that it plays itself out over many, many lifetimes, not in the space of one or two weeks. If you think karma is involved in our meetings, then you should be extremely careful. Murder and kidnapping do not engender good karma.”
The man muttered something to one his colleagues, who went outside, then returned with lengths of cord. With a gun trained on them, he relieved Sunhee of her weapon and bound their hands behind their backs. Tenzin pushed them into the bedroom.
“How do you expect to make it out of here?” asked Harel. “You know there aren’t many roads. Don’t you think the police are keeping watch on all traffic?”
With his adversaries now bound and under his control, Tenzin was happy to talk. “One of my friends is from America. The other is local. They believe in what I am doing. They will get me out. Out of this place, and out of Australia.” He limped from the room.
“This is not good,” said Harel. “That guy just doesn’t care. He’ll kill anyone.”
“We shouldn’t have come here,” said Sunhee. “As soon as I heard about this address we should have called the police. But I wanted to do this myself. To make up for what’s gone wrong. Now everything is worse.”
Harel could not help but silently agree. He tried to be reassuring. “We did everything we could.” He pondered their plight. “But I can tell you one thing. We do have to get out of here.”
Outside he could hear the men talking loudly.
Sunhee tried unsuccessfully to loosen her bindings. “That cord he used to tie us up with - it must have been all he could find. It isn’t very thick. It’s more like string.”