"You got it," said Suriyawong. "Three choppers on the roof."
"There'll be more on the ground, but let's complicate their lives and take out those three."
Virlomi had misgivings. "What if they think it's the Indian Army attacking and they kill the hostages?"
"Achilles is not so stupid he won't make sure who's doing the shooting before he starts using up his ticket home."
It was like target practice, and three missiles took out three choppers, just like that.
"Now get us onto blades and show the Thai markings," said Suriyawong.
It was, as usual, a sickening climb and drop before the blades took over. But Bean was used to the sense of clawing nausea and was able to notice, out the windows, that the Indian troops were cheering and waving.
"Oh, suddenly now we're the good guys," said Bean.
"I think we're just the not-quite-so-evil guys," said Suriyawong.
"I think you're taking irresponsible risks with the lives of my friends," said Virlomi.
Bean sobered at once. "Virlomi, I know Achilles, and the only way to keep him from killing your friends, just for spite, is to keep him worried and off balance. To give him no time to display his malice."
"I meant that if one of those missiles had gone astray," she said, "it could have hit the room they're in and killed them all."
"Oh, is that all you're worried about?" Bean said. "Virlomi, I trained these men. There are situations in which they might miss, but this was not one of them."
Virlomi nodded. "I understand. The confidence of the field commander. It's been a long time since I had a toon of my own."
A few choppers stayed aloft, watching the perimeter; most set down in front of the building where the planning room was located. Suriyawong had already briefed the company commanders he was taking into the building by satrad as they flew. Now he jumped from the chopper as soon as the door opened and, with Virlomi running behind him, he got his group moving, executing the plan.
At once, Bean's chopper lifted back up and, with another chopper, hopped the building to come down on the other side. This was where they found the two remaining Chinese helicopters, blades spinning. Bean had his pilot set down so the chopper's weapons were pointed at the sides of the two Chinese machines. Then he and the thirty men with him went out both doors as Chinese troops across the open space between them did the same.
Bean's other chopper remained airborne, waiting to see whether its missiles or the troops inside would be needed first.
The Chinese had Bean's troops outnumbered, but that wasn't really the issue. Nobody was shooting, because the Chinese wanted to get away alive, and there was no hope of that if shooting broke out, because the airborne chopper would simply destroy both the remaining Chinese machines and then it wouldn't matter what happened on the ground, they'd never get home and their mission would be a failure.
So the two little armies formed up just like regiments in the Napoleonic wars, neat little lines. Bean wanted to shout something like "fix bayonets" or "load"--but nobody was using muskets and besides, what interested him would be coming out the door of the building. . . .
And there he was, rushing straight for the nearest chopper, gripping Petra by the arm and half-dragging her along. Achilles held a pistol down at his side. Bean wanted to have one of his sharpshooters take him out, but he knew that then the Chinese would open fire and Petra would certainly be killed. So he called out to Achilles.
Achilles ignored him. Bean knew what he was thinking--get inside the chopper while everybody's holding their fire, and then Bean would be helpless, unable to do anything to Achilles without also harming Petra.
So Bean spoke into his satrad and the hovering chopper did what the gunner was trained to do--fired a missile that blew up just beyond the nearer Chinese chopper. The machine itself blocked the blast so Petra and Achilles weren't hurt--but the chopper was rocked over onto its side and then, as the blades chewed to bits against the ground, it flipped over and over and smashed up against a barracks. A few soldiers slithered out, trying to drag out others with broken limbs or other injuries before the machine went up in flames.
Achilles and Petra now stood in the middle of the open space. The only remaining Chinese chopper was too far for him to run to. He did the only thing he could do, under the circumstances. He held Petra in front of him with a gun pointed to her head. It wasn't a move they taught you in Battle School. It was straight from the vids.
In the meantime, the Chinese officer in charge--a colonel, if Bean remembered correctly how to translate the rank insignia, which was a very high rank for a small-scale operation like this one--strode out with his men. Bean did not have to instruct him to stay far away from Achilles and Petra. The colonel would know that any move to get between Achilles and Bean's men would lead to shooting, since there was only a stalemate as long as Bean had the ability to kill Achilles the moment he harmed Petra.
Without looking at the soldiers near him, Bean said, "Who has a trank pistol?"
One was slapped into his open hand. Someone murmured, "Keep your hand on a real gun, too."
And someone else said, "I hope the Indian Army doesn't realize that Achilles doesn't have any Indian kids with him. They couldn't care less about an Armenian." Bean appreciated it when his men thought through the whole situation. No time for praise now, though.
He stepped away from his men and walked toward Achilles and Petra. As he did, he saw Suriyawong and Virlomi come out the door through which the Chinese colonel had just come. Suriyawong called out, "All secure. Loading. Achilles murdered only one of ours."
"One of 'ours'?" said Achilles. "When did Sayagi become one of yours? You mean that I can kill anybody else and you don't care, but touch a Battle School brat and I'm a murderer?"
"You're never taking off in that chopper with Petra," said Bean.
"I know I'm never taking off without her," said Achilles. "If I don't have her with me, you'll blow that chopper into bits so small they'd have to use a comb to gather them up."
"Then I guess I'll just have one of my sharpshooters kill you."
Petra smiled.
She was telling him yes, do it.
"Colonel Yuan-xi will then regard his mission as a failure, and he will kill as many of you as he can. Petra first."
Bean saw that the colonel had gotten his men on board the chopper--those who had come with him from the building and those who had deployed from the choppers when Bean first landed. Only he, Achilles, and Petra remained outside.
"Colonel," said Bean, "the only way this doesn't end in blood is if we can trust each other's word. I promise you that as long as Petra is alive, uninjured, and with me, you can take off safely with no interference from me or my strike force. Whether you have Achilles with you is of no importance to me."
Petra's smile vanished, replaced with a face that was an obvious mask of anger. She did not want Achilles to get away.
But she still hoped to live--that was why she was saying nothing, so Achilles wouldn't know that she was demanding his death, even at the cost of her own.
What she was ignoring was the fact that the Chinese commander had to meet the minimum conditions for mission success--he had to have Achilles with him when he left. If he didn't, a lot of people here would die, and for what? Achilles' worst deeds were already done. From here on, no one would ever trust his word on anything. Whatever power he got now would be by force and fear, not by deception. Which meant that he would be making enemies every day, driving people into the arms of his opponents.
He might still win more battles and more wars and he might even seem to triumph completely, but, like Caligula, he would make assassins out of the people closest to him. And when he died, men just as evil but perhaps not as crazy would take his place. Killing him now would not make that much difference to the world.
Keeping Petra alive, however, would make all the difference in the world to Bean. He had made the mistakes that killed Poke and Sister Carlotta. But he wa
s going to make no mistakes today. Petra would live because Bean couldn't bear any other outcome. She didn't even get a vote on the matter.
The colonel was weighing the situation.
Achilles was not. "I'm moving to the chopper now. My fingers are pretty tight on this trigger. Don't make me flinch, Bean."
Bean knew what Achilles was thinking: Can I kill Bean at the last moment and still get away, or should I leave that pleasure for another time?
And that was an advantage for Bean, because his thinking was not clouded by thoughts of personal vengeance.
Except, he realized, that it was. Because he, too, was trying to think of some way to save Petra and still kill Achilles.
The colonel walked up closer behind Achilles before calling out his answer to Bean. "Achilles is the architect of a great Chinese victory, and he must come to Beijing to be received in honor. My orders say nothing about the Armenian."
"They'll never let us take off without her, you fool," said Achilles.
"Sir, I give you my word, my parole. Even though Achilles has already murdered a woman and a girl who did nothing but good for him, and deserves to die for his crimes, I will let him go and let you go."
"Then our missions do not conflict," said the colonel. "I agree to your terms, provided you also agree to care for any of my men who remain behind according to the rules of war."
"I agree," said Bean.
"I'm in charge of our mission," said Achilles, "and I don't agree."
"You are not in charge of our mission, sir," said the colonel.
Bean knew exactly what Achilles would do. He would take the gun away from Petra's head long enough to shoot the colonel. Achilles would expect this move to surprise people, but Bean was not surprised at all. His hand with the trank gun was already rising before Achilles even started to turn to the colonel.
But Bean was not the only one who knew what to expect from Achilles. The colonel had deliberately moved close enough to Achilles that as he swung the gun around, the colonel slapped the weapon out of Achilles' hand. At the same moment, with his other hand the colonel slapped Achilles' arm close to the elbow, and even though there seemed to be almost no force behind the blow, Achilles' arm bent sickeningly backward. Achilles cried out in pain and dropped to his knees, letting go of Petra. She immediately launched herself to the side, out of the way, and at that moment Bean fired the trank gun. He was able to adjust the aim at the last split second, and the tiny pellet struck Achilles' shirt with such force that even though the casing collapsed against the cloth, the tranquilizer blew right through the fabric and penetrated Achilles' skin. He collapsed immediately.
"It's only a tranquilizer," said Bean. "He'll be awake in six hours or so, with a headache."
The colonel stood there, not bending yet to even notice Achilles, his eyes still fixed on Bean. "Now there is no hostage. Your enemy is on the ground. How good is your word, sir, when the circumstance in which it was given goes away?"
"Men of honor," said Bean, "are brothers no matter what uniform they wear. You may put him aboard, and take off. I recommend that you fly in formation with us until we are south of the defenses around Hyderabad. Then you may fly your own course, and we'll fly ours."
"That is a wise plan," said the colonel.
He knelt and started to pick up Achilles' limp body. It was tricky work, and so Bean, small as he was, stepped forward to help by taking Achilles' legs.
Petra was on her feet by then, and when Bean glanced at her he could see that she was eyeing Achilles' pistol, which lay on the ground near her. Bean could almost read her mind. To kill Achilles with his own gun had to be tempting--and Petra had not given her word.
But before she could even move toward the pistol, Bean had his trank gun pointed at her. "You could also wake up in six hours with a headache," he said.
"No need," she said. "I know that I'm also bound by your word." And, without stooping for the gun, she came and helped Bean carry his end of Achilles' body.
They rolled Achilles through the wide door of the chopper. Soldiers inside the machine took him and carried him back, presumably to a place where he could be secured during flight maneuvers. The chopper was grossly overcrowded, but only with men--there were no supplies or heavy munitions, so it would fly as well as normal. It would simply be uncomfortable for the passengers.
"You don't want to ride home on that chopper," said Bean. "I invite you to ride with us."
"But you're not going where I'm going," said the colonel.
"I know this boy you have just taken aboard," said Bean. "Even if he doesn't remember what you did when he wakes up, someone will tell him someday, and once he knows, you'll be marked. He never forgets. He will certainly kill you."
"Then I will have died obeying my orders and fulfilling my mission," said the colonel.
"Full asylum," said Bean, "and a life spent helping liberate China and all other nations from the kind of evil he represents."
"I know that you mean to be kind," said the colonel, "but it hurts my soul to be offered such rewards for betraying my country."
"Your country is led by men without honor," said Bean. "And yet they are sustained in power by the honor of men like you. Who, then, betrays his country? No, we have no time for arguments. I only plant the idea so it will fester in your soul." Bean smiled.
The colonel smiled back. "Then you are a devil, sir, as we Chinese always knew you Europeans to be."
Bean saluted him. He returned the salute and got on board.
The chopper door closed.
Bean and Petra ran out of the downdraft as the Chinese machine rose up into the air. There it hovered as Bean ordered everyone into the one chopper that remained on the ground. Less than two minutes later, his chopper, too, rose up, and the Thai and Chinese machines flew together over the building, where they were joined by the other helijets of Bean's strike force as they rose up from the ground or converged from their watching points at the perimeter.
They flew together toward the south, slowly, on blades. No Indian weapon was fired at them. For the Indian officers no doubt knew that their best young military minds were being taken to far more safety than they could possibly have in Hyderabad, or anywhere in India, once the Chinese came in force.
Then Bean gave the order, and all his choppers rose up, cut the blades, and dropped as the jets came on and the blades folded back for the quick ride back to Sri Lanka.
Inside the chopper, Petra sat glumly in her straps. Virlomi was beside her, but they did not speak to each other.
"Petra," said Bean.
She did not look up.
"Virlomi found us, we did not find her. Because of her, we were able to come for you."
Petra still did not look up, but she reached out a hand and laid it on Virlomi's hands, which were clasped in her lap. "You were brave and good," said Petra. "Thank you for having compassion for me."
Then she looked up to meet Bean's gaze. "But I don't thank you, Bean. I was ready to kill him. I would have done it. I would have found a way."
"He's going to kill himself in the end," said Bean. "He's going to overreach himself, like Robespierre, like Stalin. Others will see his pattern and when they realize he's finally about to put them to the guillotine, they'll decide they've had enough and he will, most certainly, die."
"But how many will he kill along the way? And now your hands are stained with all their blood, because you loaded him onto that chopper alive. Mine, too."
"You're wrong," said Bean. "He is the only one responsible for his killings. And you're wrong about what would have happened if we had let him take you along. You would not have lived through that ride."
"You don't know that."
"I know Achilles. When that chopper rose to about twenty stories up, you would have been pushed out the door. And do you know why?"
"So you could watch," she said.
"No, he would have waited till I was gone," said Bean. "He's not stupid. He regards his own survival as far more i
mportant than your death."
"Then why would he kill me now? Why are you so sure?"
"Because he had his arm around you like a lover," said Bean. "Standing there with the gun to your head, he held you with affection. I think he meant to kiss you before he took you on board. He'd want me to see that."
"She would never let him kiss her," said Virlomi with disgust.
But Petra met Bean's gaze, and the tears in her eyes were a truer answer than Virlomi's brave words. She had already let Achilles kiss her. Just like Poke.
"He marked you," said Bean. "He loved you. You had power over him. After he didn't need you anymore as the hostage to keep me from killing him, you could not go on living."
Suriyawong shuddered. "What made him that way?"
"Nothing made him that way," said Bean. "No matter what terrible things happened in his life, no matter what dreadful hungers rose up from his soul, he chose to act on those desires, he chose to do the things he did. He's responsible for his own actions, and no one else. Not even those who saved his life."
"Like you and me today," said Petra.
"Sister Carlotta saved his life today," said Bean. "The last thing she asked me was to leave vengeance up to God."
"Do you believe in God?" asked Suriyawong, surprised.
"More and more," said Bean. "And less and less."
Virlomi took Petra's hands between hers and said, "Enough of blame and enough of Achilles. You're free of him. You can have whole minutes and hours and days in which you don't have to think of what he'll do to you if he hears what you say, and how you have to act when he might be watching. The only way he can hurt you now is if you keep watching him in your own heart."
"Listen to her, Petra," said Suriyawong. "She's a goddess, you know."
Virlomi laughed. "I save bridges and summon choppers."
"And you blessed me," said Suriyawong.
"I never did," said Virlomi.
"When you walked on my back," said Suriyawong. "My whole body is now the path of a goddess."
"Only the back part," said Virlomi. "You'll have to find someone else to bless the front."
While they bantered, half-drunk with success and liberty and the overwhelming tragedy they were leaving behind them, Bean watched Petra, saw the tears drop from her eyes onto her lap, longed to be able to reach out and touch them away from her eyes. But what good would that do? Those tears had risen up from deep wells of pain, and his mere touch would do nothing to dry them at their source. It would take time to do that, and time was the one thing that he did not have. If Petra knew happiness in her life--happiness, that precious thing that Mrs. Wiggin talked about--it would come when she shared her life with someone else. Bean had saved her, had freed her, not so he could have her or be part of her life, but so that he did not have to bear the guilt of her death as he bore the deaths of Poke and Carlotta. It was a selfish thing he did, in a way. But in another way, there would be nothing for himself at all from this day's work.