Golden Buddha (Oregon Files 1)

Gannon walked a few feet away to where they could hear better and explained. Rimpoche summoned a sergeant and a dozen men raced off.

“I need the supplies unloaded and taken inside,” Crabtree said to Seng, who pointed to Rimpoche.

“General Rimpoche,” he said, motioning to the man, “will take care of it.”

Seng unclipped a portable radio from his belt and switched it on, then spoke.

“Airport is under our control,” he said to Hanley on the Oregon. “What do you see?”

Hanley studied the satellite image on the screen before answering. “No troop movement yet—but if they do come, it will be from the road that enters from the east. There is what looks like a bridge about three-quarters of a mile toward Lhasa. Control that, and you’ll be able to make a stand if necessary.”

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sp; “No planes or helicopter activity?” Seng asked.

“None,” Hanley said. “Anything not on the ground there is far to the north. Even if they called them back now, you have an hour or so.”

“Good,” Seng said as Meadows walked up. “Reach me by portable if the situation changes.”

“We’re on full alert,” Hanley said. “It all comes down to the next few hours.”

Seng clipped the radio back on his belt and turned to Meadows. “Bob, take fifty troops and your weaponry down that road,” he said, pointing. “There’s a bridge we need to control.”

“Who’s in charge from their side?” Meadows asked.

“General Rimpoche,” Seng said, pointing to the man.

At that instant, three trucks slowly drove in front of the terminal and were motioned to stop by Gannon. At the same time, Tom Reyes walked over.

“General?” Seng shouted.

Rimpoche approached. “Yes?”

“I need four of your best men, crack shots and fearless.”

Rimpoche turned and shouted out names to the cluster of troops. Four men emerged from the crowd. Not one of the men was over five feet six. Dripping wet, not one of them could have weighed over 150 pounds.

“Do any of them speak English?” Seng asked.

“All of them do a little,” Rimpoche said.

“Tell them this,” Seng said. “They will be going into Lhasa with two of my men to capture a very important man. They need to do exactly what my men tell them—without hesitation.”

Rimpoche translated.

As soon as he had finished, the four men shouted “Huh” and stomped one foot on the tarmac.

“You have your file?” Seng asked Reyes.

“Yes, sir,” Reyes said.

King was a short distance away, removing a long black case from a crate. “Okay, Larry,” Seng shouted, “you and Tom can go do your thing.”

Holding a set of night-vision goggles, King walked over. “Let’s do it,” he said.

Reyes motioned to the four Tibetans, who were eagerly waiting. “We’re going to grab someone, and we’re going to do it with a minimum of shooting—do you men understand?”

“I speak fair English,” one of the soldiers said. “I’ll translate.”