LAMA NAMSRAY HAD taken a redeye flight from Vancouver to San Francisco. He had worked late at the Canadian bank owned by the valley. He came to San Francisco to check on the California also owned by the valley. He retrieved his lone suitcase from the revolving luggage carousel and headed for a taxi to take him to the Four Seasons Hotel, near Union Square. Even at 2:30 a.m., SFO was busy and taxis were hovering like vultures over a fresh carcass. Lama Namsray was heading for one of the taxis when a young Asian man pushed him toward a waiting white van with no windows. The side door slid open, two young men jumped out and tossed Lama Namsray inside. The third young man grabbed the Lama’s luggage, jumped in and the van sped away into the thick San Francisco fog. Various people saw the lightning-fast kidnapping, but no one got a license number. Even if they had, it would not have helped because the license plates were stolen.
The van crossed the Oakland-Bay Bridge without incident and headed for an abandoned warehouse in Oakland. Inside the van were Batbayar, who was driving and Fang, who was in the passenger seat. Batbayar was Mongolian and average in appearance, certainly not handsome. He was twenty-three and at the moment nervous. Fang, in contrast, was an exquisite Chinese beauty, twenty-five years old with magical eyes, an incredible shape and a long raven-black ponytail. An outside observer would question this relationship because she was a 9 3/4 on the ten-point attractive scale and he was a 4, maybe only a 3 ½.
Also in the van were three young henchmen: one Chinese, one Hmong and one Thai. Lama Namsray was totally disoriented until he saw the driver. Then everything became crystal clear. The van pulled into the old warehouse and the Hmong gunman jumped out and closed the doors. Once parked, the kidnappers dragged Lama Namsray from the van and tied him to a timeworn metal chair using plastic restraints.
The rundown warehouse had become too expensive to maintain, but the electricity was still on to show potential buyers. It was lit around where Lama Namsray was tied, but dark everywhere else. It was provisioned for a short stay, with chairs, cots and a small refrigerator.
Lama Namsray told Batbayar, “Obviously I made a mistake in approving outside study for you.”
Fang asked Batbayar, “What’s he talking about.”
Lama Namsray answered for him, “We allow promising young people to attend universities outside the valley. In Batbayar’s case, he was to graduate from UC Davis with a degree in agriculture. He was going to return to the valley and increase the output from our orchards and fields of vegetables and grains. We pay for tuition, books, apartment, vehicle and even spending money.”
Fang looked to Batbayar, “Is that true?”
Batbayar turned up his nose and complained, “What he forgot to mention is that I was to return to the valley and be bored for the rest of my life. No nightlife, no clubs, no alcohol, no blunts, no television. Only work and unending boredom.”
Fang declared, “Funding education has got to be expensive.”
Again Lama Namsray answered, “At any given time, we might have four or five young people studying outside the valley.”
Fang asked Batbayar, “They can afford that?”
Batbayar told her, “With the amount of gold they have, they could buy UC Davis, all the land surrounding it with UC Merced thrown in. That’s why I’m going to ask for one hundred gold bars.”
Fang was not only better looking than Batbayar, but also far smarter. She asked him, “They’d pay that much for him?” She motioned with her head toward Lama Namsray.
Batbayar explained, “There are three super people in the valley: the Grand Regent, this guy and a kid Grand Lama…”
Lama Namsray interrupted, “Not any longer.”
Batbayar looked puzzled, “What are you talking about?”
Lama Namsray related, “The child Grand Lama died from the coronavirus. At the precise moment of his death, a new Grand Lama was born in the Upper Kingdom.”
Batbayar frowned, “No…no one told me.” Even though a despicable rogue, he still revered the Grand Lama.
Namsray explained, “You’ve been out of contact and the Grand Regent hoped that you’d come to your senses. Unfortunately, his hopes were unfulfilled.”
Batbayar asked curtly, “Who was the mother?” Perhaps a girl that he knew.
Namsray told him, “The earthly mother is a young woman that you never met. She was brought to the valley by an American, who’s a devoted servant of our faith.”
Batbayar blurted, “Bullshit! There are no Americans in the Valley.”
Namsray nodded, “Technically you’re right. But Attorney Striker loyally serves the valley and his beautiful wife Mei is a faithful believer who’s the daughter of an Eagle and the granddaughter of a Titan.”
Fang interrupted, “What does that mean?”
Batbayar attempted to make light of the titles, “They’re titles that the government gives to country wrestlers, to make bumpkin steppe people feel important.”
Namsray corrected him, “They’re titles given each year to the best wrestlers in the entire nation. Mei’s grandfather won the title three years in a row. Her father won the title for one year. They’re national heroes to the people of the steppes and those who value tradition. Their children are afforded free education at the finest universities.”
Fang asked Namsray, “So the titles are meaningful in Mongolia?”
Namsray nodded, “None higher.”
Batbayar snapped, “Enough of this horseshit about national heroes from the steppes who are nothing more than glorified herdsmen. You need to arrange for one hundred gold bars to be transferred to us…or plan on dying.”
Namsray informed him, “There’s only one person who could approve one hundred gold bars for you.”
Batbayar offered, thinking he was clever, “The Grand Regent?”
Namsray shook his head, “No, I have no way of contacting the Grand Regent once I leave the valley.”
Batbayar again blurted, “Bullshit! Call him on your cellphone.”
Namsray told him, “Two answers: one did you see any cell towers as you left the valley and two, scroll through my phone, which you took from me, and see if you find a number for anyone in the valley; your parents included.”
Batbayar frowned. He thought back, when leaving the valley, and could not remember seeing a cell tower. Then he scrolled through Namsray’s cellphone and could not find a number for anyone in the valley. “Alright, so you can’t contact the Grand Regent, but you’d better come up with a solution soon…or plan on dying a painful death.”
Namsray declared, “Once again, two answers. First, I have no fear of death. I won’t be carrying the burden of heavy sins into my next life. And two, the only person who could arrange that many gold bars is Attorney Striker, the man I mentioned previously.”
