“Ha, that fuel did a good job,” Lao exclaimed, astonished by the scale of the destruction.
“This can’t only be because of those containers. The blast must have ignited something else as well. Their armory maybe,” said Irina.
The following moments of silence were broken by a crackling sound coming from their portable wirelesses. James answered the calling. It was Sonam.
“We are fine. We lost Lino. How are you?” asked James.
“The girls are shaken but they’re holding up… I am sorry about Lino,” said Sonam, and after a moment he added, “We did it, Mister Whiteway.”
“Yes,” James glanced to the sky in the direction where the small aircraft had disappeared. “We did it.”
CHAPTER FIFTY-FOUR
A tropical island beach, undisclosed location
The white house with a large wooden veranda extending in front of it was built on the only rising ground in sight. It huddled amongst dense tropical vegetation overlooking the light-blue water of the lagoon and the sandy beach that was about fifty meters away.
The sound of an approaching car came to them from the rear of the house where the only dirt lane leading to that secluded place ended. They concluded the conversation and stared into the long corridor leading from the reception room to the entrance door.
Irina opened the door, took off her sunglasses and walked in. She was dressed in white – narrow trousers highlighting her muscular thighs, and a blouse with short sleeves. She exchanged greetings with the two men and then asked Lao how his arm was healing.
“Lama Tenzin gave me a good medicine for it,” said Lao.
Irina looked outside. She pointed to the roof of a pavilion built among trees and bushes not far from the edge of the veranda. “Is he there?”
“Since early morning. As usual,” responded Lao.
“I’ll talk to him,” said Irina, and she walked out through the open French windows. Both men looked as she climbed down the steps of the veranda and disappeared into the greenery.
“Rinpoche, I don’t understand your carelessness,” said Lao, obviously picking up the conversation from the point they had stopped at when Irina arrived. “James hardly says a word. Most of the time he stares at the ocean.”
“Staring at the ocean is a good meditation,” said lama Tenzin.
Lama Tenzin stayed silent, looking outside as though he was waiting for something to happen. “May be he doesn’t need to meet new women,” he said after a short while.
Lao looked at him puzzled. “You don’t mean … Irina?” More disagreement than wondering could be detected in his voice. “There’s nothing like that. She considers him a friend but nothing more. She told us that she’s going back to her country. On the other hand, James is totally absorbed in his grief for Elizabeth.”
“You are a family man. You should have a better understanding of that, better than an old monk like me,” said lama Tenzin, smiling.
“With all respect to you, Rinpoche. I think you take the desirable for the real,” disagreed Lao.
“We must rely more on our intuition and faith,” said lama Tenzin cryptically, and looked through the window again.
In that moment, James and Irina came out of the bushes surrounding the pavilion and started to walk along the path to the beach. Irina turned round and waved to them. Lama Tenzin waved back.
“Look outside, right now. What do your senses tell you?” asked lama Tenzin.
Lao did what he was told.
“Everything looks … perfect,” said Lao.
“Exactly. Now, let’s have one more cup of tea,” said lama Tenzin.
THE END