SABRIYA'S HOPE: Chapter 16 - Invoking Fury

 

Wednesday, August 14, 2024 - 11:40 AM

The Cathedral of St. Francis Xavier in central Meijing was designed by local artists 120 years ago. The church’s towering twin orange-tile steeples, topped with Christian crosses, were constructed with multi-layered roofs with upturned corners that invoked the design of Buddhist temples familiar across the region. Beneath the roof, wide eaves protected deep verandas that surrounded the front and sides of the church, keeping rain at bay from the large open windows, bracketed by typhoon shutters. Stone staircases rose from the street to ornately painted French doors that opened into the foyer and nave. Inside, the center and side red-carpeted aisles led worshipers to a regimen of mahogany pews and kneelers with green cushions. Centered in the sanctuary was an ornate gold-leaf altar, above which hung a 3-meter-tall, hand-chiseled wooden crucifix accented in subdued amber and blue tones. Behind the altar, on an elevated platform, sat a 1-meter gold tabernacle, flanked by 2-meter-tall, turbaned seraphims carved from white jade. 

Sabriya, her head covered in a black lace veil, hurried into the church to pray, with Hannah close behind. Near the front, Sabriya knelt in a pew, while Hannah stood in a side aisle watching the entrances and the few others scattered in the pews, presumably praying.

Inside, Sabriya’s mind was a jumble of what-if thoughts. Should she be confused or frightened? Was Kia Kun hurt? Was she alive? What of her daughter’s friend, Dao? The news was staggering. 

Before coming to the St. Francis church to pray, Sabriya sat with Jack, Hannah, and Landon, the Embassy’s intelligence officer, as David called the local police and even the Palace for help in searching out and tracking the kidnappers. While everyone was sympathetic, especially the person David spoke with in the Palace, they all said the best course was to work with the district constable’s office, where Miwu Cun was located. The police gave David the number.

When David called the district constable’s office, the response was even more depressing. Yes, Miwu Cun was in their district. Still, there was only a single constable assigned to six villages in the region, and his responsibility was to settle territorial and property disputes, not investigate criminal activity. Who was then delegated to investigate crime? The answer rocked the Ambassador: The Palace, but the Palace had never shown any interest in the western village district beyond collecting taxes. David insisted that the district police contact the village constable, a task that could only be done by radio. They did, and, as expected, the constable was miles away in another village at the time, although the district said they would direct him to go tomorrow to Miwu Cun and see what could be discovered. 

Sabriya was desperate. By then, the kidnappers would be miles away. David then called a security officer at the Palace, but the man had no idea what he could do as district policing was not his responsibility. 

Sabriya couldn’t help but wonder if Jia Kun's kidnapping was a revenge for her speech at the Queen’s banquet. But who would know she and Jia Kun were related? .

Every day for years, Sabriya sat with the nuns at St. Mary Elias in prayer and adoration before the Blessed Sacrament. But today, chanting the Divine Office was far from her mind. Instead, without much thinking, and in tears, she found herself softly singing Salve Regina in Latin.  

Queen, mother of mercy:

life, sweetness, and hope, hail.

To thee do we cry, poor banished children of Eve.

To you we sigh, mourning and weeping

in this valley of tears.

Turn then, our advocate,

those merciful eyes

toward us.

And Jesus, the blessed fruit of thy womb,

after our exile, show us.

O clement, O loving, O sweet

Virgin Mary.

Earnest prayers of petition for Jia Kun and Dao erupted from her heart like a stiff Wing Chun elbow to her chest. She closed her eyes, and a sudden vision rushed upon her:

Jia Kun and Dao lay unconscious, bound hand and foot, a full head mask drawn over their innocent faces with little holes to breathe. They bounced as the van navigated the rutted road, their school clothes awry, their arms bruised and muddy, headed for a brothel.

Sabriya quivered when the vision hit her, and a chill ran down her spine as if a leopard had clawed her spine open, draining her blood. Her eyes snapped open, gaping at the tabernacle… O Lord, see their pride, send forth your fury upon their heads. Put a sword in my hand.

At that moment, the Sanctus bells rang, and a priest, preceded by two altar servers, entered the sanctuary from the side sacristy to begin the noon Mass. She had forgotten that there would be a noon Mass, but all the better, she concluded, considering the reason she had come to the church in the first place. She missed attending daily Mass at the monastery, where the Traditional Latin rite was celebrated. Here at St. Francis in Meijing, they seldom celebrated the old Latin Rite, but tried, mostly in vain, to make the new order Mass reverent. It was never to Sabriya, reverent that is, but she supposed it was better than nothing. The lay lectors distracted her—they were too easy to judge—diction, wardrobe, posture. Priests and deacons in liturgical vestments, in the sanctuary, were proper, she concluded.

But after Mass, while walking back to the Embassy with Hannah, Sabriya wondered if a miracle hadn’t occurred during Mass. A female lector, wearing an immodest, gaudily colored dress suitable for a circus acrobat, read the Old Testament reading. There was no equivalent reading, especially by a layperson, in the Traditional Latin Mass. And yet, here it was: an idea…no, a vision that was both startling and dangerous. She felt guilty during the celebration of the Eucharist because all she could think about was what had stormed into her mind during that reading from the book of Judith.

She knew the story of Judith: a holy woman and unconventional warrior who saved Israel from the Babylonian army. Judith was Sister Linsim’s biblical hero, and during Sabriya’s Wing Chun kung fu training, sensei Linsim often joked that kung fu was really useless unless God was in charge. “Imagine,” Sister Linsim would say, “if Judith had known kung fu, the story of Holofernes’ decapitation might have been a finger jab or an elbow to the throat. Not nearly as dramatic, and might not even have made it into the Bible.” 

“Trust God, not kung fu,” Sister would say. But then, jokingly, she would always add, “But Wing Cun is different. God loves Wing Chun.” Whereupon, Sensi Sister would surprise Sabriya and pretend to punch her student mercilessly, sweep her legs, and take her down. Sabriya smiled at the memory. 

After Mass, as she and Hannah walked back to the Embassy, Sabriya thought back to a previous time when God had answered a prayer she had never prayed.

Flashback - May 2013

Pangina and Kolinggar Mountains, Pellagore

Sabriya cried when she left her one-year-old baby girl, Jia Kun, with Busaba; it was heartbreaking; she didn’t know if she’d ever see her baby again. But if the child was to be safe from the thugs chasing them, Sabriya had to keep moving and disappear…somehow, somewhere. What would she do? Where would she go? Her enemy’s network of degenerates and assassins ran throughout Pellagore, and she could not think of a place where she would not eventually be recognized and reported back to her wannabe executioners. She couldn’t go to the south into North Vietnam, she had no passport; nor would she return southeast into Meijing, the capital, from which she had just escaped; nor to the northeast, which was her home village that had been burned to the ground by the same malevolents. She was left with only one direction, due north, into the rugged, underdeveloped western range of the Kolinggar Mountains. But, where would she find sanctuary there? At least she had some money left, and food and extra clothing in Busaba’s backpack. 

Sabriya headed north, walking along jungle paths between villages and backcountry roads used by trappers, farmers, and the vilest of society from which she was convinced she had not yet entirely escaped. Stopping by a mountain stream to freshen herself, she removed the Kasden charm. Could it help her again? Protect her? Give her direction? She slipped the charm over her neck, kissed it, and prayed. “Lord Kasden, or whatever god of angels might surround me, where do I go? Protect me. I need to disappear and be safe…and please protect Busaba and Jia Kun.” 

And so, Sabriya started on foot, hitched rides on farm trucks and donkey carts, sojourning her way into the mountains, talking with villagers, and hoping something was guarding her path.

SABRIYA'S HOPE: Chapter 15 - Confession

Wednesday, August 14, 2024 - 2:00 PM

Back from Mass, Sabriya confronted the Ambassador alone in his office. “I think I know where Jia Kun might be,” she braved.

He stopped pacing and glared at her. “What do you mean?”

Sabriya did her best to portray an objective, even business-like posture. But her British Knight, minus his horse and lance, eyed her with suspicion. 

“Why didn’t you tell me that you knew Jia Kun was my daughter?” she asked.

The tables were turned. Sabriya could see that he wanted to interrogate her, but now she was grilling him. She smiled at him, a little coy, a little bashful, a little seductive, a little mad. She wasn’t sure what would work. But she loved this man and didn’t want to make him angry. 

“I didn’t want to offend you,” he offered. 

He seemed sincere enough, but she wasn’t convinced. “You mean, you don’t mind if I lie to you?”

David thought about that and cringed. “You might put it that way.” He paused. 

She could tell he wasn’t done.  She tried to look vulnerable and coy—pressing her lips together in a subtle grin and lowering her gaze. She couldn’t fool David, however. She was no timid bleeding heart, though her heart beat like a panicked hummingbird. Time and Jia Kun's peril were of the essence. 

David groveled. “Sabriya, when I first laid eyes on you, that day in the village market, how you handled yourself in a tough situation, your poise, self-assurance, and at once gentleness…” He chuckled. “I didn’t want to look away. But you disappeared, and I was forced to talk with that other sister running your stall. I had to find out who you were. I knew you weren’t a professed nun by the way you were dressed. I was smitten. When I later found you and we talked, I was mesmerized. To say I was in love is too simple. You captured my heart. I worshiped you, although I’m sure worship was too strong a word…but it will do. Even now, I’m madly in love with you.”

Sabriya had heard similar endearments from this man before; they took her breath away and triggered a swelling in her chest. The man was a treasure. Tears came to her eyes. What was he getting at?

“Perhaps I was foolish,” he continued. “No, it wasn’t that—.” He paused again, trying to figure out what to say.

Men struggle to explain how they feel. If she were patient, it would be worth it.

“My dear, when I told my director, Sir Robert, that I wanted to marry you…this was long before I asked you, he was suspicious that you might be a spy or something like that, for the Chinese or whoever. He drilled me for some time and finally said he could not permit me to marry you and keep my job in the foreign service, without MI6 thoroughly vetting you, which would require them to interview you. I knew this, but was afraid that they would find something insidious, menacing, and lethal.”

It was Sabriya’s turn to go stiff and cold. She knew this part, and she remembered not being entirely forthcoming when, in the monastery garden, she had been interrogated by the quirky agent that she was sure no woman could love. She thought him a Russian asset; his skin was so white it might flake off, his beady eyes were small, black, and suspicious, his head too small even for a Chinaman’s hat, and his bald head was so shiny it’s a wonder he didn’t get sunburned under the cloudy Pellagore sky. He didn’t shave his scalp; it was simply void of hair follicles, just the few red strands he kept brushing over the top from behind one ear.

“Sorry,” she said.

“About what?”

“I was thinking about someone else.”

“A man?”

“Well, yes, I guess he was. Not sure.”

“Who?” There was a nervousness in David’s query, almost a demand, as if she were thinking of cheating on him.

“The guy you sent to interview me before you proposed, although I knew that’s what it was about.”

“You mean Skittles?”

“Is that his name?”

“Well, he looks like a Skittle top.”

“What’s Skittles?”

“It’s a strange game.” He spun the topic. “Sabriya, I was afraid Mr. Reynolds, that’s his name, would scare you away.”

“He almost did.”

David stared wildly at her like a mountain lion, wondering if there was enough meat for a meal.

“David!”

His trance was broken. “What?”

“Don’t scare me.”

“Sorry. I had asked Skittles, er, Reynolds, to go easy on you and not pry so much that you might not want to see me anymore.”

“No worry,” she said. “We did get married.” 

“Yes, there’s that.”

 “Sabriya, look — ever since, I just didn’t want to know much about your past. Thankfully, I don’t have a very vivid imagination. I could never be a spy. I am not suspicious of people. I take them at face value, the way they want to be taken, even if they are misleading me. It’s easier for me to be helpful as a diplomat. When MI6 debriefed me on their investigation into your past, I was told some things that didn’t scare me, but they did make me want to love you even more. I wanted to be the opposite of the abuse you had experienced. I even wanted to be the father of your child, Jia Kun. Although I feared asking where she was, or if she was even alive. But then they told me she was living safely with your sister, seemingly adopted by her. That happens; it seemed natural. So, I left it alone. You seemed content with it, although you had wanted to visit her. That was to be expected.

David changed his tone. Quieter now, more reticent, questioning.

“I must admit, coming back to Pellagore as we have, I wondered if something might be revealed, especially when you again expressed a desire to see Jia Kun. We’ve known each other now for seven years, and you’re not the girl of your past. I’m not sure how you overcame the trauma of your former life. I was too cowardly to ask. You loved me and agreed to marry me. That was enough. It made me very happy.”

“It was the sisters at St. Mary Elias,” Sabriya offered. “That is, what they taught me about God and his forgiveness. I was scared and bitter for a long time, but the sisters loved me, and I finally accepted that even God could forgive and forget my past. Then you, David Kensington, did the same. I could not believe your acceptance and your refusal to even ask. It was a gift.” She paused to think. “But my confidence should go to Sister Linsim and Master Singha, who often came to our monastery for lessons. Before Wing Chun, I was a terrified victim. But no longer. I still don’t completely understand.” 

Sabriya stopped talking and teared up again. This time, she let the tears flow as she locked in on David’s eyes. “There was your unconditional love, regardless of my past. I didn’t want to tell you everything, and I haven’t for fear you might reject me...still. At the same time, I knew you had to know some of what I went through, because Skittles had interviewed Mother Superior, who knew a lot, but not everything. I guess they found out enough.”

Sabriya and David were both quiet for a time, gazing at each other, then glancing away, as if embarrassed to watch the other, or letting the other watch them. But their current intercourse had a purpose, and it wasn’t romantic. They were not headed to the bedroom for a loving, life-giving embrace. They were headed for destruction and death. Sabriya was also worried that the closer they came to solving the mystery of what had happened to Jia Kun and Dao, the more disturbing secrets about her past would come to light. She was tempted to blurt them out, just to rid herself of the tension. The crisis they faced could erupt at any moment, and all would be known, and her life, their life, would be over and done with. 

Sabriya made a decision and broke the silence. “There are two brothels that were used as the headend for trafficked girls. Their covers were two restaurants on Cabbage Avenue. One is the Iron Spoon in Mandarin Town, next to the Bay Island bridge. The other is the Backroom Wok, about a half-mile north. Ordering a Southern Veil from the barkeep at either place, not a waiter, will get you ushered into the back.”

David’s face turned white; every muscle in his body froze. Sabriya knew that he had heard of Cabbage Avenue as the dark underbelly of Meijing, where corruption of local politicians, royalty, and police was thick. The entire embassy staff had been advised never to set foot there for fear of being inadvertently photographed, thereby tarnishing the British Foreign Service. Sabriya was sure Sir David had complied, but her knowledge of Cabbage Avenue establishments suggested something more sinister to David—something he had never, ever wanted to know, but now he could never forget. He needed clarification: “How do you know this?”

Sabriya bowed her head for a moment, but then sat erect and raised her head high, ready for her opponent’s attack, while hoping at the same time he wouldn’t. She was not proud of what she had been, but she was proud of what she is now. “I was one of the girls, but not willingly.”

She could see David’s body react to the shock of her answer. His lips went rigid and white; his breathing ceased; his eyes widened and watered. He dropped his gaze, stared at his hands, looked away, and avoided her eyes. Then he tried to pivot. “About the brothels. The Iron Spoon and, ah, what was the other?”

“The Wok—the Backroom Wok.”

David slowly reached for his portable encrypted radio, which sat in the corner of his desk. His hand tremored. Depressing the PTT key: “J.C., J.C. Office.” He released the PTT key and set the radio down. There was a momentary silence, then a radio squawk and Jack’s voice: “On my way.”

When Jack entered the office, he was greeted by a somber Ambassador and his wife. “Jack, this is very confidential. It doesn’t leave the room. Under no circumstances does the Service know about this, beyond what it already does. Understand?”

Jack did.

David explained everything he and Sabriya had discussed, with Sabriya filling in the details. But she was hurt. Not once did David look at her, no doubt because she had hurt him. 

Jack knew most of the story, but not that prostitution had been forced upon her. That was new, and it showed in Jack’s eyes. She explained that if the two brothels were still operating, they might find Jia Kun and Dao there, or at least someone who knew their whereabouts. 

“Jack, I can’t go there,” David pleaded. “I mean, I can’t pass that information to the police. Nor can you. And definitely not to the Palace, or even to the Foreign Service. They would ask how I know about these two places. What would I say? My wife told me? Our careers and the honor of Her Majesty’s Service would be ruined, to say nothing of dragging Queen Devi into this because of her connection to Sabriya.” 

David finally allowed Sabriya’s eyes to catch his again. She sighed in relief and held his gaze, a tender grimace curling her lips, telling him she understood how hard the truth was. How was it possible that he, the Ambassador of Pellagore, a respected diplomat of Her Majesty’s Foreign Service, had fallen in love and married a prostitute from a seedy establishment on Meijing’s brothel row? His career was over. Could she help him lie his way back to respectability? Should she tell him that diplomats from other countries had frequented these restaurants, and what they came for wasn’t on the menu? She decided he didn’t need to learn that from her. 

 “Jack,” said David, “we need to quietly discover if these places are still in business, and if so, is there any connection to the kidnapping in Miwu Cun?”

Jack was quiet only for a moment. “I can do that. I can get a disguise from Landon. Although I’m not sure Hannah would be pleased with me going there and poking around.”

“Wait a minute,” said David. “Sabriya, how many places in the city, or country for that matter, could the kids have been taken to?”

“I don’t know, dozens, I suppose, the way the Queen talks. I’ve been thinking I should tell the Queen that my niece has been taken. That might tell us something and cause the right kind of stir.”

“No, remember? We already talked to the Palace and asked for help. They were ambivalent.”

“But you talked to some official. You didn’t talk to the Queen. But I can.”

David winced, and Jack added, “What if the girls were taken out of the country? Miwu Cun is only a few miles from the Chinese border. All they’d need is one corrupt border guard.”

Sabriya’s heart sank. 

“Look,” Jack offered. “Let me check out the Iron Spoon and the Wok place. I can get in and out without…”

“No,” David interrupted. “That’s not your job. I’ll ask Landon without telling him anything about Sabriya. He’s the spook.”

“Every minute counts,” Sabriya warned. It’s been hours since the girls were snatched. No telling where they are or how far away by now.”

There was a beat of silence. 

“You two take off,” David ordered. “As soon as I take care of something, I’ll ask Landon and see what he can discover about those brothels without raising suspicion, and I’ll go to the palace and try to contact the Queen directly.”

“Let me,” said Sabriya, “talk to the queen. I can’t sit and wait. I need to do something.” 

SABRIYA's HOPE: Chapter 14 - "TAKEN"

Wednesday, August  14, 2024 - 8:00 AM

Life had returned to normal for Sabriya after coming back to the Embassy from Miwu Cun. David rose before dawn each day for his cable exchange with London, while Sabriya rose several hours later and joined Hannah for breakfast to coordinate their schedules. An Ambassador’s wife’s days were occupied supervising the household staff, reviewing world news via their BBC shortwave radio, playing hostess for guests and the spouses of visiting dignitaries, visiting charities, and, when time allowed, she and Hannah would don their gis and spar in the garden.

Although she now knew David had always known Jia Kun was her daughter, she was surprised he had not called her out for lying to him, claiming Jia Kun was her niece. A sincere and honest talk with David was necessary; she feared he was being inconsiderately kind by patronizing her. Still, she waited for the right time, but the time was never right. And when the right time came, she wished it had never come. 

10:30 AM

Sabriya was busy hosting representatives of Pellagore’s textile cooperative, who were in the early stages of petitioning the British government for a favorable trade position to export the output of their silk mills to the UK. The group of seven sat around a table on the garden veranda, nibbling on finger food and sipping tea, when Hannah appeared in the doorway. She walked quickly to Sabriya’s side and whispered into her ear, cupping her hand over Sabriya’s ear. Sabriya froze as she imagined what she was being told.

“Excuse me, please,” Sabriya said to her guests, suddenly standing and forcing a smile with the presumption of a gracious hostess who suddenly found herself out of her element, although she was entirely within her domain.

Hannah led Sabriya to Jack, who stood just inside the French doors to the dining room, then into an alcove where the guests could not see or hear them. But once out of sight, Jack could not find his tongue.

Hannah’s whisper was more like a wild boar’s grunt: “Jack!”

Jack’s voice cracked, but out it came. “The radio room received a relayed message from Miwu Cun’s Big Man. Jia Kun was walking to school with two friends this morning…” 

The morning sun streaked through the canopy of banyan and kapok trees, their massive trunks and exposed roots directing the muddy but compact path’s course through the jungle after overnight showers. On the ground, flowering hibiscus mediated the irritating rattan palms that snagged Jia Kun's light-blue tunic as she walked to school with her friends. The morning was gay, and Jia Kun smiled as she glanced down at her St. Michael-Foundation medallion swinging from her neck to the rhythm of the red-whiskered bulbul’s brightening chew-chew-chew-whee and a myna’s whistles, clicks, and squawks. Their funny calls always made Jia Kun smile. Today, however, her smile was wider because her mother had finally agreed to let her wear Auntie’s medallion. Jia Kun had promised to tuck it inside her clothing before she got to school. At least she got to show it to her walk-along friends. 

But suddenly, the cheerful morning was aborted when two menacing roots, that had not been there the day before, obstructed the path. Two thugs, stout and muscular,  wearing black balaclava masks, black rip-stop nylon trousers, and T-shirts that stretched tight over their arms and legs, suddenly appeared on the path—one behind and one in front of the children—and brutally descended on them. Without a word, the thugs swept up the kids with their massive arms and carried them into the dense underbrush. Jia Kun was grabbed by one of the men, and her two friends, a boy and a girl, were carried away by the second. Jia Kun screamed for help, as did her girlfriend. But Liang, the boy whose name meant bright and promising, used his fists to hit the man in his face and chest, and started kicking with his feet. Dozens of song birds clamored in the treetops, warning of danger, and low-lying saplings scraped against the children’s bodies as the thugs recklessly carried them, kicking and screaming, into a dark, foreboding underworld. 

Clearing the jungle, the men came to a dirt road where a cargo van was parked. As the man who carried Jia Kun struggled to open the truck’s side door, Liang kicked his captor hard enough and in the right place that the man lost his grip. Liang dropped to the ground and quickly ran into the jungle, while Dao, the other girl, struggled in vain to get free. Liang stopped in the thicket behind a banyan tree and watched. Now, it was two strong men against two small girls. The girls had no chance. The men threw the girls, along with their backpacks, into the van, jumped in after them, and slammed the door shut. Liang heard the girls scream behind the van door for a moment before Dao, and then Jia Kun fell silent. Shaking with fear, Liang watched in vain as the van drove away. Catching his breath and wiping tears from his eyes, he limped back to the village and, through gasps of fear, told the village chief what had happened.

In shock, Sabriya exclaimed, “Jack, that was, what, three, four hours ago?”

Jack nodded, and Hannah steeled herself and stared at Sabriya for a reaction.

“Where’s David?” said Sabriya.

“Office, likely. I’ll brief him and Landon.” Jack walked off quickly.

“I’ll handle your guests,” said Hannah. “Follow Jack.”

Sabriya was left stunned, afraid to move. All she could do was hope. In the meantime, she remembered.

~

Flashback - May-December 2013

St. Mary Elias Carmelite Monastery

Sabriya traveled on foot for over two weeks to the very northern region of Pellagore, when a village matron suggested she visit the monastery atop a nearby mountain, where the sisters might take in a single woman like her. 

When she first arrived at St. Mary Elias Monastery, Mother Superior and an older nun interrogated her at length about why she had come. The older nun said it wasn’t unusual for the Carmelites to take in “stray” women, but they wanted to know more about her, and so she reluctantly told them about her background, or at least some of it, for she was indeed a “stray,” for that is how Sabriya saw herself. What was remarkable, she was told, was her reluctance to seek the religious life for herself. She was simply looking for sanctuary to heal, and, at some point, to find direction and purpose. The nuns finally allowed her to stay on the condition that she join their community as a lay laborer and follow a strict schedule of silence, prayer, labor, poverty, chastity, and obedience to the Prior. Sabriya remembered how desperate she was for a home after her ordeal, and she readily agreed. 

Living with the Carmelites as a lay sister for the first year also forced her to cut off all communication with the outside world, including with her sister, Busaba, something she did not like. It was hard at first, but later she was allowed to send and receive letters with those outside. But by then, the younger Busaba had become bitter toward Sabriya, and the letters became fewer and fewer. Sabriya was at a loss for how to change her situation. 

The Monastery did become a sanctuary for her with impregnable walls no less. But she came to embrace the bevy of kind but strict women, who became loving sisters. 

The process of finding her new home felt like Providence. She had asked Kasden’s amulet for help. Still, everything she knew about the deity and her captors, who claimed to rely on the charm, was associated with trickery and manipulation that often harmed others. But in her first sojourn to Miwu Cun with Jia Kun, and her sojourn to St. Mary Elias, there had been no hint or need of such disagreeable things. Yes, there were occasional rebuffs, but on the whole, the people she met were kind and generous. Was she helped by Kasden’s amulet, or something more powerful?  She didn’t know, but shortly after arriving at St. Mary Elias, intuition led her to remove the charm from around her neck and hide it among her few possessions, hoping it would stay hidden.

SABRIYA: Chapter 13 - MI6 Knows

Jack and Hannah Clark

Sunday, August 11, 2024 -10:00 AM

     The trail back to their car was wide enough for Sabriya, Jack, and Hannah to walk side by side. After the awkward good-bye to Busaba, Sabriya was anxious to have a frank chat with her security detail. “Hannah, Jack, I need to ask a favor.” Her voice was reticent, unsure how to phrase the request, for it verged on asking them to violate their security oaths.  Sabriya was embarrassed by her lack of transparency with David, with the British Foreign Service, and, lately, with Pellagore’s King and Queen.  

“It’s true that Jia Kun is my biological daughter, not my niece. But these past eleven years Busaba has effectively been her adopted mother, and my absence has been like that of a distant aunt. That’s what we sort of agreed to when I first came here. The story is long and complex, but now that I am back in Pellagore, the truth of my former life will come to light, something I actually feared might happen. As I explained to Hannah earlier, the path forward for me, and perhaps David, does not promise to be smooth. And the Queen’s asking me for help with her trafficking project is something I want to do, but my participation will complicate things. Can you trust me to tell David the whole story in my own time, without breaking it to him right away? I realize there’s a security issue with my request, but there are personal issues, too.  I’m not sure what to do or when.”

For several moments, neither Jack nor Hannah said anything, although they exchanged looks, as if they, too, had a secret or two. 

Finally, Hannah stopped on the side of the trail and pulled Sabriya to her, as Jack stood back and kept his eyes on the trail. Hannah took Sabriya’s hand in both of hers. “My dear, we know more than you think.”

Sabriya stiffened as fear crept across her face. She tried to pull her hand back from Hannah’s, but Hannah kept a gentle grip and smiled as if there was nothing to worry about.

“As you know, before Diplomatic Services permitted David to marry you, MI6 ran a background check on you. Jack and I were briefed on those results before we took the assignment to join you and David. We know you were trafficked and that Jia Kun is your child. David knows that, too. We also know something about your years at St. Mary Elias, and how the nuns essentially rescued you from your former life. That’s how MI6 knew where Jia Kun and Busaba lived.”

Sabriya was stunned to silence and started to shake, as if she had just been staked, stripped, and left as a night-time snack for the leopards. Hannah put her arm around Sabriya and escorted her further down the trail behind Jack. 

At the trailhead, after a safety check to ensure the vehicle had not been sabotaged by the person Jack suspected of following them two days earlier, they stowed their packs in the rear, Sabriya and Hannah slid into the back seat, and Jack into the front seat. 

As soon as Jack had guided the sedan over the rutted trail onto Pellagore’s concept of a highway—one lane of asphalt with two lanes of traffic—Sabriya recovered herself, reached over, and took Hannah’s hand. Sabriya felt cold and began to shiver, as if she had fallen in with the enemy without realizing it. But Hannah’s steady hands, both of which now enclosed hers, were gentle and warm. As Jack drove, Hannah continued to explain.

“Sabriya, we have pledged our lives, Jack and I, to protecting you and David. We do not know who trafficked you, and we have not asked you, because, at the time, it wasn’t important, and expending the time and resources to find out would have endangered you and David. For all we know, the man you were with may be dead, and his gang may be disbanded.” Hannah stared at Jack’s rear-view mirror for a moment.

Jack spoke: “Sabriya, do you want to tell us who Jia Kun's father is? You may encounter him now that you’ve sided with the Queen. It’s something we’ve all been thinking about since you agreed to help her. Is he alive? Do you know where he is?”

“We were told,” Hannah interrupted, “that when you were asked by Agent Reynolds — do you remember the interview?—that you didn’t want to reveal his identity out of fear.”

Hannah remained silent, waiting gently for Sabriya to respond.

Sabriya knew that this time had to come. That it had taken years for the subject to be broached was miraculous. But she was at a loss for words. Perhaps ducking the punch was again the proper defense. “MI6 may not be as good as you think they are.”

“What do you mean?” asked Hannah.

“I’m not as good as you think I am. I have always thought of myself as a liability and have kept in the background. But now, being back in Pellagore, and with the Queen, and now my sister, and lying to everybody about my daughter, I’m baffled how I am of any value.”

Jack took the lead. “You’re more important than you realize. Everyone has skeletons in their cupboard. As far as Jia Kun is concerned, under common law, you are her aunt and Busaba is her mother. So, in that way, you have not lied to anyone. Otherwise, you’re the wife of a foreign diplomat, and your intuition about the culture, as you’ve experienced it, is very important. You don’t have to collect and clean the bones, just help David connect them.”

Sabriya was churning inside. There were so many thoughts that came to her at once, and she couldn’t spar with Hannah to work them out. “Knowing all this, why in the world did David marry me, or MI6 allow it?”

Hannah laughed. “Sabriya, my dear, if you only knew how much David loves you. That’s the first reason, and it might as well be the only one. However, or otherwise, there were five things, perhaps six, that influenced the Services to give David the go-ahead. First, you had the intelligence, courage, and perseverance to escape your captors. Second, you valued your daughter’s safety above your own and placed her far from you, in a safe, remote part of the country, with a caring blood relative, your sister. That demonstrates sacrificial wisdom and love. Third, you gave yourself to the care of Carmelite nuns for years. You could not have chosen or fallen in with a better group to reform your past. Fourth, you proved yourself a disciplined Wing Chun student and earned your third-degree black belt. That shows strength of character. And then, as David reported, you demonstrated great control and compassion during the market defense of a young girl and her mother. Finally, and this was the icing on the cake, we might say, you have a higher ranking than David in the martial arts, so we expect you to protect him better than he might protect you.”

They all laughed at that, although Sabriya didn’t believe it for a second that she needed to or could protect David.

Jack spoke. “Sabriya, we are aware that your involvement with the Queen may put you at greater risk, but it’s a risk that we all accept, and you did too when you married David. We are aware that your association with the Queen raises the public’s awareness of you and your advocacy—that’s good. On the downside, those from your past may seek revenge. While that sounds bad or dangerous, it’s also a way to flush out the criminals Pellagore intends to put out of business. I guess you can consider yourself bait. Anyway, that is why both Hannah and I came with you on this trip. Being a diplomat isn’t always diplomacy.”

As the sedan pulled into Meijing and drew closer to the Embassy, Sabriya no longer feared that knowledge of her past would hinder her marriage. But that wasn’t all that entangled her heart’s emotions. Sabriya prayed that Jia Kun would not trust in the medallion’s power, as she had worshiped Kasden’s charm—although similar in appearance, their sources of power were very different.

Flashback: January–April 2014

Carmelite Monastery – Kolinggar Mountains

In exchange for sanctuary, Sabriya had promised Mother Superior to fully participate in the Carmelite community of silence, prayer, labor, poverty, chastity, and obedience. Little did Sabriya realize at the time that such a promise would lead to her Christian conversion and Catholic baptism. In fact, in previous years, she could never have imagined such a reversal, due to a mystical and not insignificant obstacle. 

Growing up in the Northeastern  Kolinggar Mountains, Sabriya had a modicum of familiarity with Islam, Buddhism, Hinduism, and Christianity. But growing up, the spiritual essence of her villagers’ lives was the worship of mysterious stone images, to which Sabriya’s family and village leaders sacrificed and devoutly venerated. It was a form of animism, or idol worship, as she came to learn through her monastery’s education. 

As her understanding of religion developed, particularly regarding Judaism and Christianity, a profusion of confusion arose, occupying her thoughts and prayers for nearly half a year. During that time, she faced a serious moral dilemma because of two undeniable miracles: Jia Kun's safe placement with Busaba and her own sanctuary with the Carmelites. Both occurred immediately after she prayed to and sacrificed to Kasden, the local god of power, riches, and revenge, to whom she had occasionally prayed since childhood. But the Catholic faith forbade such worship and sacrifice to inanimate objects, as Sabriya had secretly done while living with the nuns. When she finally told a sister she possessed a charm dedicated to the god Kasden and had sacrificed to it, Mother Superior demanded the idolatrous token be destroyed immediately, in flames, outside the monastery walls. At first, Sabriya refused because of the token’s apparent safety, which had apparently provided her and Jia Kun with freedom. Still, Mother insisted, reminding Sabriya of her oath of obedience if she wanted to stay. 

Sabriya relented, so unrelenting was Mother’s insistence and so gracious her benevolence that in January 2014, the metal charm was melted down, ground to a powder, mixed with Holy Water, and thrown off a mountain cliff. Months afterward, Sabriya remained anxious, having entrusted her safety entirely to Kasden, until she was baptized on Easter Sunday, April 20, 2014, and her dependence on Kasden disappeared.