Chindit' again.
He was, and is now, nothing but a thief! And now he tries to steal my son."
Mya stared at him accusingly. "Your father sacrificed everything for you. He knew what he was and made sure you would be different. But for what end, Stephen? Who are the thieves and who are making the promises now?"
Her words and fiery eyes impaled his heart. He lowered his head, knowing she could never understand why he was working for the government. He walked to the closet, picked out several sets of clothes, and put them in his suitcase.
Mya's eyes filled with tears. She walked over and leaned her head against his back. "I'm sorry ... I'm so sorry. I love you so much. It's just that it breaks my heart to hear you speak badly of your father. I can't bear lying to him and making excuses for you. He loves you more than anything in this world. He's so worried. Please read his last letter to you."
Stephen turned and cupped her chin to raise her head. "I'll take the letter with me," he said softly. "Things will be different when I return-I promise."
She backed away and resigned herself to his going. "I'll get your shaving kit. Stephen, please call Joshua when you are there. He writes you every month and you haven't written back in a year. Please, he misses you."
Hearing Joshua's name caused Stephen to glance at the picture on his dresser. He picked it up with a reflective smile.
"Those were the best times of our lives."
Mya stepped up beside him to look at the picture. "We were all so naive and foolish when we were young. I miss being able to laugh, Stephen, and not having a care in the world. They've taken that away from us. Everywhere I go I know I'm being watched. I can't go on like this."
Stephen handed her the picture and opened the dresser for his socks and underwear. "It's going to be like it once was.
You'll see."
Minutes later on the front porch he kissed her gently on the lips and backed away, trying to smile. "I love you. I'll call every day." He gave her a last, lingering look and then headed for the waiting staff car.
.
11 A. M.
Five miles from the smoldering U. S. Embassy, on the second floor of the Directorate of Defense Services Intelligence's ultramodern building, Major General Ren Swei stood at his office window listening to the distant sounds of wailing sirens. Minutes before he had heard and felt the rumble from the bomb explosion. In his early fifties, Director Swei of the secret police looked every bit the aristocrat he was. Dark pink scars from a battle fought with Shan mountain rebels when he was a young major etched his chin and left cheek.
He wore no medals or decorations but rather let his shrapnel scars show his sacrifice and devotion to his country. Tall for a Burmese, he wore a perfectly tailored uniform that accented his fit, trim body. Distinguished splashes of gray streaked his short black hair. He shifted his intense, dark brown eyes to his deputy, who stood nearby with the telephone handset to his ear.
Brigadier General Tan nodded and spoke quickly. "Well done. I will pass the information on to the director." He hung up and smiled. "The bombing was executed flawlessly."
Director Swei lifted an eyebrow. "It's unfortunate they were so inquisitive. It was their kan, I suppose. You did excellent work with such little notice. I am indebted as always."
Brigadier Tan, a short but powerfully built officer, accepted the compliment with a slight head bow. "It was very close, my general. Our special operations unit was assigned the mission. They used a Shan heroin addict to drive the truck. He was so desperate for his white powder he believed he would have time to ignite the detonator and get away."
Swei sat down in his large executive chair and nodded reflectively. "It bought us time. It will take the American intelligence replacements weeks to pick up where the others left off; by then it will be too late. Has our Sao taken off for Seattle?"
Tan's chest tightened and his nostrils flared.
He was, and is now, nothing but a thief! And now he tries to steal my son."
Mya stared at him accusingly. "Your father sacrificed everything for you. He knew what he was and made sure you would be different. But for what end, Stephen? Who are the thieves and who are making the promises now?"
Her words and fiery eyes impaled his heart. He lowered his head, knowing she could never understand why he was working for the government. He walked to the closet, picked out several sets of clothes, and put them in his suitcase.
Mya's eyes filled with tears. She walked over and leaned her head against his back. "I'm sorry ... I'm so sorry. I love you so much. It's just that it breaks my heart to hear you speak badly of your father. I can't bear lying to him and making excuses for you. He loves you more than anything in this world. He's so worried. Please read his last letter to you."
Stephen turned and cupped her chin to raise her head. "I'll take the letter with me," he said softly. "Things will be different when I return-I promise."
She backed away and resigned herself to his going. "I'll get your shaving kit. Stephen, please call Joshua when you are there. He writes you every month and you haven't written back in a year. Please, he misses you."
Hearing Joshua's name caused Stephen to glance at the picture on his dresser. He picked it up with a reflective smile.
"Those were the best times of our lives."
Mya stepped up beside him to look at the picture. "We were all so naive and foolish when we were young. I miss being able to laugh, Stephen, and not having a care in the world. They've taken that away from us. Everywhere I go I know I'm being watched. I can't go on like this."
Stephen handed her the picture and opened the dresser for his socks and underwear. "It's going to be like it once was.
You'll see."
Minutes later on the front porch he kissed her gently on the lips and backed away, trying to smile. "I love you. I'll call every day." He gave her a last, lingering look and then headed for the waiting staff car.
.
11 A. M.
Five miles from the smoldering U. S. Embassy, on the second floor of the Directorate of Defense Services Intelligence's ultramodern building, Major General Ren Swei stood at his office window listening to the distant sounds of wailing sirens. Minutes before he had heard and felt the rumble from the bomb explosion. In his early fifties, Director Swei of the secret police looked every bit the aristocrat he was. Dark pink scars from a battle fought with Shan mountain rebels when he was a young major etched his chin and left cheek.
He wore no medals or decorations but rather let his shrapnel scars show his sacrifice and devotion to his country. Tall for a Burmese, he wore a perfectly tailored uniform that accented his fit, trim body. Distinguished splashes of gray streaked his short black hair. He shifted his intense, dark brown eyes to his deputy, who stood nearby with the telephone handset to his ear.
Brigadier General Tan nodded and spoke quickly. "Well done. I will pass the information on to the director." He hung up and smiled. "The bombing was executed flawlessly."
Director Swei lifted an eyebrow. "It's unfortunate they were so inquisitive. It was their kan, I suppose. You did excellent work with such little notice. I am indebted as always."
Brigadier Tan, a short but powerfully built officer, accepted the compliment with a slight head bow. "It was very close, my general. Our special operations unit was assigned the mission. They used a Shan heroin addict to drive the truck. He was so desperate for his white powder he believed he would have time to ignite the detonator and get away."
Swei sat down in his large executive chair and nodded reflectively. "It bought us time. It will take the American intelligence replacements weeks to pick up where the others left off; by then it will be too late. Has our Sao taken off for Seattle?"
Tan's chest tightened and his nostrils flared.
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