"You lied to me," said Joseph. "You ran off to kill him while we were trying to fight off the soldiers." "I saw that the battle was lost; I just took action before you realized that." Joseph shook his head. "You betrayed me." She shrugged. "If that's really how you want to look at it. But look at what happened, Joseph. Look what we get for trying to do the right thing. The monks didn't even want our help. They just let the lama get taken, so why shouldn't we just have destroyed it? I know you think this is something really special but what good does it do, really? Dulls smart people down? Makes them ignore orders? What is it you wanted to save?" "There's too much we didn't know yet." "I don't want to know." Emilio rubbed his wrists. "Joseph, we can catch up to them. We leave now, we can get them. They've got a truck, it'll have to be careful on the trails. And you came up here on snowmobiles. We can still get our hands on him. And he's all packaged up in that box now." "Right, Spanish intelligence is going to help you get the lama to your non-partisan utopian spy agency," Alina sneered. "And working with you will get him so much closer to what he wants, is that it?" "I'm doing this on my own," Joseph said. "We're competing again. These alliances are too messy." "Why shouldn't I kill you now, then?" asked Alina. "That'd be pretty awkward." Joseph pulled the sniper rifle out of the cabinet where the weapons had been stored. Joel had left the room and come into the yard. "Angela's out," he said. "It makes sense." "She's never done it before." He seemed miffed, upset that Angela was giving up on this stupid-ass mission that didn't make any sense. He was clinging to the image of Cordell as some kind of global savior, one who, despite the clusterfuck they had been through, knew what he was doing and knew the proper way to deal with the lama. Joseph only wanted to speak with him. He wanted to slap the monk awake and ask him why his life had turned out so badly, why he had turned out so badly. Why Chris had gotten all the good, Even when he was alive, he had been the better of the two. Not just in ability, but in goodnesss itself. Why his parents had treated him like nothing. Why, instead of embracing him as their one remaining son, they moaned and cried about their son Chris, their football star, their beautiful boy. Their real son. Then Alina could do whatever she wanted. Then Emilio could take the lama to Spain. China could take him and turn him into an atomic bomb, that's how little he cared about what happened with the lama, and the ramifications of letting him slip away. He just wanted to reach inside that perfect bald skull of his and see the truth. "Joel, why are you still so keen on seeing this through? You've been kidnapped, your girlfriend, or whoever she is, has gotten her face smashed in, Norman's laid up, Ops is probably on the run at this point. Do you think Cordell's really got any idea what he wants to do with the lama? And if he does, do you think it's a good idea?" Joel was mad. Joel was thinking about it hard, though, and Joseph could tell he had touched on a sensitive spot in his brain. Joel opened and closed his mouth several times and looked down at the brick ground. He sighed like a tired dog. "Joseph, it doesn't matter. We've got the same goal, in the end. I'll help you. Let's do this shit, git r done, come on boy." The snowmobiles, which were dark and shiny blue, like a new pickup truck, not flat light blue like an old Toyota truck, bumblebeed across the snow. Joseph and Joel sat on the snowmobile in comfort thanks to the cushy seats that the Chinese army had sprung for. "This is a smooth ride, really," said Joseph, appreciating this small kindness of the world in this moment. He was sitting behind Joel in the bitch spot, and, remembering that it was called 'the bitch spot,' wished he had insisted on driving. He was kind of worried the soft seat and the vibration of the snowmobile would give him an erection. But, he looked down in front of him and the seats were cleanly separated. He was safe. On the other snowmobile were Alina and Emilio. Emilio, too, occupied the bitch spot. Angela had stayed behind at the monastery. Joseph had her commandeered rifle slung over his shoulder in case any far-away people needed to be shot. "Hey, do you think I'm gonna need this?" "You probably will; they've got a pretty generous posse going," Joel yelled over the bumblebee noise of the snowmobile. "Joel, why did you join GESTALT in the first place? You never told me." "When I was a teenager, I lived in a house with my parents in SoCal. I was raised republican, basically, but some of the San Francisco juice leaked down to us and I started thinking about the way the world worked and reading books about socialism and political action and stuff like that and eventually I volunteered with some hippy foundation and it ended with me being devoted to bettering the world. Really a lot like Angela's story but, well, being from the OC I had more relatives that were into guns and whatever and so I got really good with guns." "I've never seen you shoot a gun, Joel." "Well then check this out, Buddy." Joel reached into his pack and threw a deck of playing cards into the air. The cards flew apart into a cloud that whirled around in a terrifying simulacrum of a childhood trauma. Joel shot into the card tornado eight times and Joseph saw that he'd shot all the kings and queens. Joseph felt incrementally better about his twin brother's death. He was feeling better all the time about it, recently, despite the memento-mori-type night terrors he'd been having. Joel twirled the pistol around his finger and blew away the smoke coolly. "Pretty slick, huh?" "Boy, was it ever!" "You wanna see another, Bro?" "Yes! Shoot more stuff, Joel!" The dragon man was addressing his soldiers. "Now listen, those spies are definitely going to come after us. We're in the back of this truck, so we're exposed, and we're pretty tightly packed, and, yeah, I know that's not super comfy, but are you soldiers or are you little baby girls who feel grains of sand under mattresses? The point is that the spies are going to come by here and we need to repel them any way we can. Shoot at them. Shoot near them. Shoot at the snowmobiles I can hear. Well, maybe....no, yeah, shoot at the snowmobiles if you have to. I was thinking maybe I would get to take some of them home after this mission is taken care of, but I can just buy my own instead of mooching of the taxpayers. Shoot away." "Major, what is our glorious country's plan for this monk? Are we going to put him in a museum?" "We could put him in a museum! We can do anything we want with the little guy." "Major, isn't that why the world is so against us on the Tibet issue, because we feel we can do anything we want with 'the little guy?'" "Private, the world is against us because the world doesn't understand what loyalty means." Joel pulled up alongside Alina's snowmobile. "So what's the plan, comrade!" he yelled across at her. They needed to stop the convoy. They were getting close to catching up; they could see the trucks around bends, on the next mountain. "We'll be on top of them in about fifteen minutes." Joseph had the sniper rifle. He could pick off soldiers, but wouldn't be too much help in stopping the trucks, especially since killing the drivers would send the truck and the lama crashing over the side of the mountain. "There's a side trail, down about a mile here," she said. "You take that trail. Joseph, you set up at the bottom of the valley. The road we'll be on curves around, giving you a good five minutes or so to cover Emilio as he takes over the truck." Joel nodded briefly and then pulled away. "What do you think? If we take that trail, we won't be able to watch what they're doing on those trucks for a while. They could be planning something." "They are planning something. But the trucks can only go that way. We'd be able to see it if something funny's going on. And I have the rifle." "What am I going to do while you're being cool?" "I dunno, Joel, you can watch me being totally awesome." They zoomed back next to Alina and Emilio. "We're in. Emilio, you're going to commandeer the truck?" "I'm gonna try, man," he shouted. "There's a whole lot of them. We'll have to see." Alina pointed ahead of them. "The fork is right there. Take it, and follow the trail. It'll put you in a clearing below the road." "We'll be in touch," said Joseph, and the snowmobile dipped down the trail. "Joseph, she's not going to give up. When you see Alina from down here, you shoot her, you hear me?" Joel looked back over his shoulder, neglecting the road. "Say you hear me." "I hear you." Joseph hadn't made up his mind yet what to do with Alina, but he had a list of scenarios in his mind where he would definitely pull the trigger. Emilio was trickier. Joseph liked the guy a lot. He was a pretty fun dude and if they got out of Tibet alive, their Europe road trip sounded like it would be just the kind of relaxation Joseph needed. Not that GESTALT would let him go on it. But, he didn't much care what GESTALT thought, anymore. As they barrelled down the snowy road his mind drifted to the trip. Riding bikes through French vineyards, challenging cute girls to drinking contests in Germany, drinking wine all day in Spain...yes, he hoped he wouldn't have to take out Emilio. It would really be a shame to kill a guy who knew how to have so much fun. "You have the plan down, right?" Alina yelled back. "You know what you're doing? Get to the lama, and break the cage. Shoot the control panel on the front, that should cause it to short out. We won't have time to get a keycode, but if you damage the cage enough, the preservation process will be interrupted and the lama will dissolve." "I've got it." Emilio was tightening straps on his jacket. "I feel bad, working against Joseph like this." "What is Joseph but just one other spy? They're all out for themselves." "And what are you?" Alina revved the snowmobile's engine and shot ahead on the road. "The truck's there." They had been spotted. Soldiers stood up and started firing. Emilio raised his QBZ and swept it across them at head level, sawing them apart. "Good shooting," Alina said, and pulled the snowmobile up to the bumper of the truck. "Hurry up, the driver's going to notice." Emilio hopped up onto the bumper, then into the bed full of corpses. Alina kept the snowmobile going, trying to keep up with the truck. She got up on the handlebars, keeping the throttle twisted, and jumped, grabbing loosely onto the bumper. She cried out in panic, but Emilio couldn't hear. She gathered up her focus and got a grip with her other hand, and pulled herself up. The driver saw them but couldn't do anything but keep driving. He spoke into a walkie and the soldiers in the other trucks stood up. Alina and Emilio looked at each other and vaulted over the cab. Six trucks in the convoy. Two of them troop carriers. The Chinese had known there would be no competent attacks at the front, and had backloaded all their reinforcements, leaving four additional trucks for the agents to get through. Past their pickup truck was the first troop carrier. "Joseph better get in position soon," yelled Emilio. There were fifteen soldiers in the carrier. Alina and Emilio got in close to keep them from shooting. Alina kicked high, hitting one square in the jaw and knocking him over the side and down the cliff. She ducked under a knife that slashed horizontally, aimed for her chest, punched the soldier in the balls, and then with her pointed boot she kicked him right in the teeth. Emilio shoved one with his foot, knocking him backwards into a clutch of others. With the distance gained, he snatched up the rifle dropped by one of Alina's, and perforated the handful of men. Joseph and Joel had pulled up to the clearing, and the convoy was just coming into sight. Joseph crouched down low and rested the rifle's barrel on a rock. "I can barely see them," he said. The angle of the shot left only the upper chests and heads of the targets up. He could see Alina and Emilio in the second-to-last truck, tearing through soldiers. "Take out the next truck," said Joel. It too was a troop carrier. "Kill the driver. The truck with the lama will get out of the way in time." Joseph aimed. The window was barred, armoring a majority of the space. He fired, and saw sparks fly from the metal cover. He aimed again. Alina had seen the shot on the next truck. "He's trying to take out the next carrier," she yelled, pulling a knife from the eye of a soldier. "Get to our driver." If the carrier in front of them went down, it would mean a lot less work, but it would also leave a thirty-foot space between their current car and the rest of the convoy, and their driver wouldn't be keep to close the distance for them. Emilio nodded. He shoved his way through and poured bullets through the back slats of the truck, chewing up the metal shades that would bar his entry. Alina drew her arm back and threw, burying the knife in the chest of another soldier. More shots bounced off the forward carrier's window. "Hurry it up, Emilio," she yelled. Emilio stomped frantically at the ribs, bending them, snapping some at heavily-holed points. He heard another clank from the truck ahead, then the roar of the engine held down by the dead driver. The soldiers in the back screamed, and the carrier squealed off the side of the road. It tumbled down, crushing its passengers against the rocky hillside, throwing them out across the canyon, crumpling itself up into a ball of tinfoil. Joseph whipped the rifle left, to the next truck. He began poking at the tires. Emilio's kick knocked the cover off of the back of the truck. Alina approached the last soldier, cowering against the back of the carrier, surrounded by the dead. She turned her knife over and jammed it up through his chin. Emilio fired a stolen pistol into the driver's head. He leapt through the back window, undid the driver's seatbelt and threw him aside to take the wheel. "Step on it, Emilio," yelled Alina. The front of the convoy had sped up. Emilio stepped on it. "I'm out," said Joseph. He dropped the rifle. "We should get moving." Joel had been scanning with binoculars. "There's another trail to the west that'll take us to a clearing up top. If we can get the soldiers to pull over, we'll have another shot at getting the lama." He hustled over to the snowmobile, and Joseph followed. He sparked it up. "How are we getting it home," he wondered." "Haven't thought that far ahead." Up on the ridge, the hijacked carrier was rushing forward, barely staying on the road. "We've got to catch up before they can. They're closer than ever. All they need to do is run the lama's truck off the road." Joel hit the gas and they climbed fast up the hill. Alina was standing at the top of the troop carrier's cab. Emilio was catching up, pulling closer and closer to the final gauntlet. She rolled her fingers on the front grip of the gun. There were ten soldiers left. She took aim. Emilio jammed on the gas, pitching the car hard forward, ramming the back of the truck, throwing Alina into the bed. She landed on her back, breathless. The soldiers regained their balance and threw themselves onto her before she could draw in air. She fought, weakly. When they had been so close, Emilio couldn't be counted on. Would she turn out like Joseph's teammate Angela? A toy for the men? Emilio rammed the truck again, and she realized that it hadn't been an accident. He ground into the truck, lifting its back wheels, plowing it across the powdery road, into and through a wooden barrier. Alina fell, clawing at arms and faces and sleeves, grabbing desperately for something to cling onto. Behind them they heard another screeching crash. Joseph looked over his shoulder, but they had curved around a mountainside and he could see only snow. "There goes the last guard truck," Joel said. "We need to catch up, fast." He swept up to the road. "How are we going to stop the truck?" They had run out of tools. The only thing left was the snowmobile itself, and Joseph doubted it would even slow the heavy truck down. They had only two pistols. "Emilio's supposed to hijack the truck. But that crash just now could have been him. What we do is, we drive alongside it. You get onto the truck, and I will too, if I can. Whether Emilio's successful or not, we should be on it. We figure out from there." "What if you don't make it on?" "Then you're gonna have to do it on your own. This thing won't last long on the road." He pulled over on a wide shoulder. "Let's hope they aren't going too fast." They waited, listening to the sound of the trucks rolling down the road. There were at least two trucks. Whatever had happened to Alina and Emilio, they hadn't managed to hijack the last truck. The sound was getting closer. "Get ready," Joseph said. "Twenty seconds." They both counted in their heads. At five, Joel revved up the snowmobile, and skiied out onto the edge of the road as the trucks came fast around the corner. They narrowly missed the snowmobile. "Joel, speed it up!" "I'm trying," Joel yelled. He twisted the throttle. The trucks were going fast, but couldn't go too fast. They were huge, and being at least somewhat cautious. The snowmobile caught up, and rode next to the second-place truck. "That's Emilio driving." He looked at the trucks. "No wonder he couldn't jack the lama's truck. Look at that jump." Emilio would have to keep speed somehow, climb out of his truck, get past its huge cabin door, and make a leap to the armored car that was carrying the lama. Emilio swerved hard right, almost crushing the snowmobile. Joel yelled in panic, and with great momentum the truck swerved back left, slamming into the back corner of the armored car. "What is he doing!" Joel screamed. "He's going to run them down the cliff!" He pulled forward. "Joseph, get into that truck and stop him!" Joseph got to his feet on the snowmobile and held onto Joel's shoulders. He kept his eyes on the ladder leading up to the truck's cabin, and jumped. He had a grip. He climbed up to the door. "Stop!" he yelled. "You're going to kill the lama!" He wondered if it was Emilio's aim to kill him. Maybe Alina had convinced him. As if to confirm this, the truck swerved again, almost smearing Joseph against the cliff wall, and crashed against the lama's chariot. Joseph pressed his gun to the passenger window, careful not to aim at Emilio, and fired. The window crumbled, and Joseph smashed through it with the butt of his gun. He heaved himself inside. "What the hell are you thinking!" he yelled. "I'm pulling him over," said Emilio. "You're trying to throw him off the cliff!" "I'm putting pressure on him. If he keeps driving, I am going to throw him off the cliff. So he'd better stop." He looked at the pistol Joseph had aimed at his head. He swerved again, still watching the gun's barrel. The armored car jumped, and Joseph saw it veering to the right. "What did I tell you?" The car stopped. Emilio kept driving, then when he'd gone a bit ahead, he whipped the truck around to block the road. The back of the armored car opened. The dragon soldier got out, walked to the driver's door, and shot the driver through the window. He raised his gun and fired on Emilio and Joseph. They shot back in kind, running backward to try and take cover by the truck. Joel zoomed up, and ran the snowmobile straight into the soldier. He flew across the road, tumbling across the asphalt and landing in a heap. Joel got off the snowmobile and the soldier stood up uneasily. He jerked his head, shaking the dizziness and delirium out. He cracked his knuckles, and ran at the man. "You and your friends are really something," said the major. He ducked under a punch Joel threw. "You've killed a lot of people, the past few days." Emilio was watching the fight intently. "Do you think your man can win this?" "He can win it," said Joseph. Joel landed a hard jab to the major's jaw. He was fast, threw himself into his blows. The major was being careful but he was too slow. "What are you going to do with the lama, Joseph?" Emilio had prayer beads out, and was thumbing through the beads. "Take him back where you came from?" "You helped us. We'll talk about what happens next." He looked Emilio in the eyes. "Your country wants him too, right?" Joel yelled, making a sweeping kick at the major's chest. The major juked backward. Joseph watched the man's feet, trying to figure out a tell or a weakness in his form. As the major's leg picked up and swept back to retreat, a pressure closed around Joseph's throat. Emilio held the cord tight, pulling the ends hard across each other so that his fingers went white and numb. Joseph fell to his knees. He slapped at Emilio, trying to get clear for a breath. "I'm a patriot, Smith," Emilio hissed. "Spain comes first." Joseph was losing himself; Emilio could see the intelligence drain out of his eyes. Finally he went limp, and Emilio let go of the cord. It uncoiled fast and Joseph fell face-down in the snow. The other men were still sparring, almost playing with each other. Emilio loped to the truck. The major's gun was laying on the ground. He could hear the major shouting, pleading Joel to stop, to look at the other spy. He pulled the back doors open and the black cage was sitting, monolithic, in the center of the hatch. "He's going to take the lama," the major yelled. "Stop! Stop this; he's going to get away!" Joel knew that stopping would leave him open for a fatal blow. The major was serious, but he wouldn't honor a truce. He had to end it quickly, before Emilio made off with the lama. He stomped at the dragon's shin, but he pulled away. The cage must have weighed at least five hundred pounds. Emilio strained, pulling at it fruitlessly. There was no sled, or tug, anything that would help him move the vessel. The road was blocked off by the truck he had whipped across. He would have to break the seal. He raised the major's gun and took aim at the power cords running from the power supply base up to the refrigeration unit. Shots cracked out of the armored car and the major howled. "He's broken the cage! The lama!" He threw a desperate punch at Joel, and knocked him down. The lama was sitting on his mat, as he had at the monastery. Emilio watched for a moment, and bent down to pick him up. His body was supple, his limbs fell and dangled as Emilio lifted him. He was so light. Eighty pounds. "You there, stop!" shouted the major. Emilio shot him in the stomach and he crumpled. "Joel, keep back," he warned. "I'll shoot. Go see to Joseph; he's not dead yet." Joel put his hands up and watched Emilio carry away the lama. They went over the ridge and Joel couldn't see them. He ran to Joseph. "Joseph." He shook him, felt for a pulse. He was alive. "Come on, Joey, wake up." The lama was dissolving. Emilio could see the wrinkles and lines in his face cracking, splitting open. His eyelashes dropped out. He had failed. In his dream Joseph was in Kansas. He was in his Junior year, and it was October. The trees were golden, rattling loud in the breeze. Chris sat next to him in a lawn chair. "Fuck it," he said. "It's just a game." He cracked open a beer, and tossed one over to Joseph. "So, you and Holly...." "The details are mine," Joseph said. "You've got enough, Chris." "Don't be a bad brother! Come on!" "Fuck off," he grinned. Chris watched a plane pass overhead. Joseph watched his brother. "You know, when you died...it killed our family. We were banking it all on you." "Not my fault, Joey." "I know." He thought back to his brother running sets. Sprinting back and forth until he collapsed. Every night they lost, penance. "I could have picked up some slack." Chris shook his head. "It's not about you. Not about Ma and Dad, either. It's just how things turned out." "I could've supported you. Gone to the games that really mattered. I could have been happy for you, instead of jealous." "Joey, stop it. It's over." He finished up his beer and crushed the can to a disk between his palms. He looked down at his lap and sniffed. "You're not a bad brother," he said. "I hope you know that." Joseph nodded, and exhaled. He opened his eyes and his throat felt slit. Burning and cold at once, aching with each breath. "Oh, thank God," Joel breathed, and dropped his head onto Joseph's chest. "Come on, get up." He got to his feet and pulled Joseph to his. "Emilio's gone, with the lama. Let's go." They passed the major. He was alive, but barely. He rolled his head to follow them. "You were out for a few minutes," Joel said. "You better hope there's no brain damage, Brother." Joseph nodded. He was exhausted, lightheaded. But he wanted to be with Joel. "Say something, Joseph. You're freaking me out." "I had a dream about my brother," he wheezed. They were cresting a hill. All around them the mountains stood tall and white. "Oh yeah? What about?" Joseph's eyes were wet. He watched his feet crush through the snow. "We had a beer." Down on the hillside there was a black thing. As they got down lower, they saw it was a hand. Shriveled and mummified, still attached to half of an arm. "The lama's gone," Joseph knew. "Keep going," said Joel. Emilio was walking slower and slower. He looked over his shoulder, saw the Americans a few hills back. The sky was huge and yawning. He was tired. Ahead of him there was endless snow, and black rock, and scratchy brush. He stopped walking, and simply felt his breath fill and empty his chest. He leaned down and put the lama on the snow. He was beautiful. Glowing, vital, almost smiling. Emilio leaned him up against a rock and he sat up, legs crossed. Emilio knelt before him. "There they are." "He's gone," Joseph said again. His head was pounding. They walked slowly, then, Joel holding him up as he limped along. Emilio's hair ruffled in the wind. "Joseph, we tried," said Joel. He nodded to himself. "We gave it our all." Joseph didn't care. As they approached the lama, he felt warmed, like a fire was burning beside him. He shrugged away Joel's arm gently, and walked to Emilio. He knelt down next to him. Joel stood and watched, then, knelt as well. The lama radiated. An invisible sunlight that beat down on their skin, that made them squint and feel alive. Joseph's heart swelled. He was a good brother. He was a good man. The lama broke. Flakes drifted away on the breeze. His nose slid off of his face. His flesh blackened and shriveled. He crumbled to dust. Snow began to fall, and, for a long time, the men stayed.