But I wasn’t a good guy all the time.
There were the occasions when I took advantage of a situation if I didn’t like the people. And this is where you come in. I made a mistake in Corregidor. I was hired to trade for some penicillin. I got the penicillin, but got a better offer in Manila. A bar owner wanted to corner the market on the drug, knowing that the girls had to have clean bills of health on their red cards. He paid me triple what I was going to get from the Malay doctor on Corregidor.
I figured I’d be able to take the cash, buy some more penicillin, and get it to Corregidor after only a few days’ delay. But I hadn’t anticipated the supply would dry up. When I realized that I couldn’t get any more, I tried to buy back what I’d sold at a loss, but the bar owner just laughed at me.
I wired my contact in Corregidor. The reply I got back told the rest of the horrifying story. The drug was to be used to halt an outbreak of meningitis at a local orphanage. They had to have it. Without it they’d all die. And they did.
Forty-seven children.
Dead.
Because of me.
The last line of the telegram I received in return said that I’d pay for this.
Two weeks later I noticed the change in you. I don’t know how it got in you. I don’t know who did it. All I knew was that one minute you were a happy-go-lucky kid having a great life in the P.I., and the next you were like a ravenous dog with the mouth of a sailor.
Then I lost you for four months.
I’m still trying to figure out what exactly happened to you. According to the woman who convinced the priest to rescue you from the garbage dump, you are possessed by a Hantu Kabor. Turns out that’s some sort of Malaysian grave demon. It sucks out the souls of the dead, but can be harnessed to do the same with the living. As it was explained to me, as if this were something logical, the demon possesses you for as long as it takes to break down your internal defenses. Once that happens, it eats your soul and moves on. I’ve seen the sort of people they claim have been its victims. And Jackie, they scare me. They scare me worse than anything because I don’t want you to end up that way.
They just sit there, staring at the world.
No, that’s not right. That would entail some sort of interaction. They sit there with the world staring at them. They’re like rocks. Or clay. Or a hill. They are nothing. There’s nothing left inside except for the elements that made them.
They’re empty.
But you were strong.
You kept it at bay. Through whatever hell you were in, you kept it from consuming you.
And you are still holding on.
You have more scars than any child should ever have. You have been bleeding from your eyes and ears for a full day now. Your arms have been trying to dislocate, so we’ve put you in a straitjacket. Your heart has been at a steady two hundred beats per minute. Your breathing is rapid-fire. Your eyes shine with the heat of the beast.
But I think whatever the priest is doing is working. Amidst your screams of terror and agony, I think the shine in your eyes is beginning to dim.
That has to be good, right?
That means you’re getting better, right?
Oh Lord, please make it so.
44
They’d found them. Or at least they thought they had.
Walker sat with the rest of his team as Musso laid out more information about the target set.
“We’d originally believed there was a Chinese connection. Based on the hard work Mr. Laws conducted deducing the elements of Chi Long, and perhaps identifying the supernatural connection, we were further lured into the idea that this was a Chinese Triad–organized endeavor. But the events of the last two hours have dissuaded us substantially from that. The sinolinguistic association was merely a result of the language shift in an ethnically divergent group within Myanmar.”
Walker glanced at Ruiz. Neither of them understood what the briefer had said.
Jen caught it and gestured toward Musso.
“Bottom line, we’re now certain that the origination of the crates comes from the Karen. They trace their history back to the Mongols. They still use a version of Chinese, but they use many of the more archaic terms and characters. This would be the reason for the ghost radical appearing in the chi character. The Karen are currently indigenous minorities in Thailand and Myanmar. They have been waging a silent war against the military junta that has been in control of Myanmar for the last twenty years. They are separated both ideologically and politically from the Myanmarese and wish nothing more than to remove them from power and replace them with the Karen, who can trace their history back to a far earlier rule.”
The briefer paused.
Holmes took the opportunity to ask a question. “How do you know specifically it’s the Karen?”
“I’ve been mirroring Laws’s efforts. While he searched the documents taken from the cargo ship for a Chinese connection, I searched for something else. What I discovered were Chinese literalizations—characters to represent sounds, usually for names—of a name that occurred several times in the documents we transferred from the cargo ship, Saw Thuza Tun.” He glanced at Laws. “The only reason you didn’t find it was because the radicals used in the literalizations were nonsensical.”
Laws nodded but didn’t say anything.
“So the name Saw Thuza Tun is clearly a Karen name. We know this because the Karen have an entirely different naming convention in Myanmar. Surnames are not commonly used. A person is usually known by a given name consisting of one or two elements. In this case they are Thuza and Tun, which mean ‘success’ and ‘bright,’ respectively. They’re preceded by the title of the person. In this case, they give the word ‘saw,’ which is the Karen version of the Shan title ‘sao.’ Both ‘sao’ and ‘saw’ mean ‘lord.’”
“Is that all you got?” Ruiz asked.
“Initial searches indicate that Tun is involved with the Karen separatist movement, but that’s it. NFI,” Musso finished, meaning “no further information.”
The room was silent for a moment as everyone digested what they’d heard. Finally Holmes asked, “What does this have to do with us? Why are the chimera being shipped to America?”
“You’re speaking to motive,” Musso said.
“I am. Why us?”
“That’s an excellent question, but one for which we can make only educated postulations. Here’s what we think. If their intent had actually been to attack the U.S., they could have done it without our even knowing. We wouldn’t be having this conversation. Frankly, we all might be dead.”
“I’ve been thinking the same thing,” Holmes agreed. “We almost have too much information.”
“Precisely,” Jen said. “Peter, show them the pictures.”
Musso raised a hand and gestured to the back of the room. “Liz, please present the slides.”
The room darkened and an image of a sprawling city was superimposed on Musso. He stepped to the side. “This is Rangoon, or Yangon as it’s now called. It was the former capital of Burma and Myanmar. You’ll remember that we found the ships in the harbor. They weren’t hiding. They were at berth as if they weren’t about to ship death to America. Next slide, please.”