

# JUST CAUSE-WRONG TARGET

# John Muir

Copyright John Robert Muir 2007: John Robert Muir asserts the legal and moral rights to be identified as the author of this work.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior written consent and permission of the publisher.

## DISCLAIMER:

These stories are works of fiction. The names and characters are from the imagination of the author and any resemblance to any persons, living or dead is entirely coincidental. If you think the author has written about you, your ego is greater than your imagination or common sense.

## Smashwords Edition, Licence Notes

Thank you for downloading this ebook. It remains the copyrighted property of the author, and may not be reproduced, copied, and distributed for commercial or non-commercial purposes. If you enjoyed this book, please encourage your friends to download their own copy from their favourite retailer where they can also discover other works by this author. Thank you for your support.

## Acknowledgements:

The author and publisher wish to thank the many individuals for ideas, editing, encouragement and support. Thanks to Gary Weston for the cover.

Published in EBooks 2014

Smashwords Edition 2014

Ebooks ISBN

## **********

# JUST CAUSE - WRONG TARGET
## CHAPTER 1

## THE SPIRIT OF THE BALITÈ TREE

### Near Linamon, Lanao Del Norte Province, North West Mindanao, Philippines.

There was no wind. The branches of the tree were still. Several barefoot village children were gathered, staring upward. Salim Hassan looked at the large balitè tree on the vacant section next to his house. The young boy who had fetched him from the market pointed higher up the tree. Like a misshapen and broken branch, his wife's body hung motionless at the end of a fisherman's bright blue nylon mooring rope.

Salim felt the cold sensation start at his back between his shoulder blades and quickly spread all over his body. He began to shiver.

The child, who had pointed, looked at the man and noticed the man was shaking. He tried to think of a reason why. The day was very hot; it was nearly midday, the time when the spirits of the balitè tree chose to have their rest. He watched the man close his eyes and put his head back as if he was looking at the sky. The man opened his mouth wide and took a deep breath as if he was going to speak.

When the scream started, the children ran as fast as they could to the safety of their homes to hide. They did not want to get into trouble with 'Engkanto', the spirit of the tree.

Salim was vaguely aware other people began to arrive and stand near him. He did not hear what they were saying to him. His eyes were fixed on the sight above him.

Her scarf had fallen from her head. Her hair, face and neck were exposed. Her neck seemed much longer than the way he remembered it. Her feet were bare. Even in death she was as pretty as she was when he had married her.

Salim moved under the balitè tree and picked up the black scarf which had fallen to the ground. He tucked it into his shorts. Both her slippers had fallen from her feet, though he could only see one blue slipper on the ground. The other might have fallen between the large rocks and the tree's base. He picked up the one he could see and held it in his left hand.

Why had he forced her to this point? Why had she gone to this excess? Why had she chosen such a high branch to hang herself? She was at least three body lengths up the tree. How had she managed to climb that high wearing her malong, the Philippine version of the long Muslim chador? Why had she picked the balitè tree? Had she done so to join the legend of the tree spirit? There were so many questions.

He knew, if she had been alive, he would chastise her for exposing her hair and neck in public. No good Muslim woman, wife and mother would do that. To make things worse, parts of her legs were also visible beneath her ankle length malong. Was she trying to disgrace him again, even in death?

As he looked up from directly underneath her body; her still open but lifeless eyes looked directly at him. In her death her eyes seemed briefly to be accusing him for his lack of understanding. Then those same dead eyes appeared to change and beg for his support and understanding, just as she had done after her time of need. Or was 'Engkanto', the spirit of the tree, cursing him? He shuddered again.

He could not forgive her for what happened when she was alive. He now wished he had. How could he ever say sorry and forgive her now in her death?

All the adults gathering were either neighbours or relations. This was a small close knit barrio. They knew why his wife had taken her own life. Despite that, they would still give him support.

He felt a hand on his shoulder. It was his cousin Omar Asani. He would know what to do. Salim felt his own brain was not functioning. He knew he should be doing something; it was just that he could not think of what it was.

Omar spoke to three of the many teenage boys in the group that had gathered under the tree. Though Salim could hear talking, he could not make out what it was. His physical awareness was numbed; his mental senses bewildered. The three youths looked nervously at each other before climbing the tree. They all learnt from a very young age about the spirit that lived in all large balite trees, and taught never to throw stones at or ever damage the tree. This tree was the only one of its kind in their barrio.

None of the youths wanted to offend the spirit. Maybe there were many spirits. Nobody really knew for sure. All three youths gently touched the tree trunk with open palms. They stroked the bark that was wrinkled like the skin of an old woman, before beginning their climb. They hoped it might be a way to ask 'Engkanto's' permission, or to forgive them for disturbing the spirit's sleep. All knew that midday was the time of rest for the spirit; and the spirit could take revenge if it was disturbed, especially by screaming, during its period of rest.

After scaling to the branch where the bright blue nylon rope was tied, one of the youths produced a knife to cut it. He would take special care not to cut into the branch. Then he thought that cutting such a strong rope was a waste as it could be used to tie up one of the many barrio fishermen's sea-going bancas.

The efforts of the three teenagers soon yielded results. The youths, on the branch below the body, struggled to maintain their balance and hold the body still, while the youth above was cutting. Their efforts to gently lower the body failed. The rope parted before the two youths below were ready. The sudden unexpected extra weight unbalanced them. They had to release the body, and grab at parallel branches, to stop themselves' falling.

Salim saw the body begin its fall. He knew he should try to catch it. Something within him would not respond. He could not even move aside.

The body tumbled in free-fall, and barely missing one of the large rocks at the base, thudded face down into the ground at his feet. An arm hit his leg with considerable force. He still could not move.

Several neighbours ran forward and lifted the body gently, as if to reduce it feeling further hurt, and began to carry it to Salim's home only metres away. Salim followed mutely while he wondered what he would say to his daughters Siti and Zahra when they returned home from school. Perhaps Omar might tell them. Salim knew he could not.

His daughters, Siti 16, and Zahra nearly 14, had spoken very little to him since 'the incident'. That had happened nearly three months ago. They, being female, had sided with their Mother. He, being a man, had pride and could not live with what had happened.

He felt like a spectator watching and allowing others to take control. He was not capable of reacting. He did not know what to do. He wanted to stay protected within his daze and let others do whatever it was they were doing.

## \----------

Though Salim's wife's body had been laid out in what had been their bedroom, he still could not bring himself to go into that room. Since that worst day in his life, he had never been into that room. He had slept in the lounge and had not slept with or had sex with his wife since that day.

As a Muslim he did not drink alcohol. He fought with his beliefs. He had seen drunken Christians, oblivious to their surroundings, having escaped into an alcohol induced stupor. He too wanted to escape, even like they did, but he could not cross the line that his beliefs forbade him to do. He wanted relief in sleep, but the sleep was just as cruel. He would dream bad dreams, and sometimes wake screaming. The nightmare of what he imagined had happened would repeat. His wife, on hearing his screams, would rush from the bedroom and try to comfort him.

As soon as he felt her touch him, he would feel revulsion again, and would run from the house. Often pushing her away with such force she would crash against a wall or furniture.

Friends and relations had given his wife emotional support. His friends had given him camaraderie and money. The men pledged to support him in his quest for revenge against those that had done this thing.

But for now, he could not get away from thoughts of her. He could not get away from thoughts of them, and what they had done to her. He knew, for the moment, that his feeling of loss was strong. He knew too that the call for revenge would soon become stronger.

## \----------

It seemed, to Salim, his family had always been matriarchal dominated. Early deaths were common among the males in his family over several generations, though not from natural causes. Whereas the women seemed to live long lives, and tell all the children the same stories time after time about what had happened to their husband, father or grandfather. Salim had long tired of their stories and had stopped absorbing the information of the repetitive tales.

He was 15 when his Father died. His family was landless and poor. Because of his family poverty he had to leave school. His Mother could not earn enough to support the whole family and he was neither skilled nor qualified for any employment outside the barrio.

For two years, until he was 17, he helped local fisherman ply their trade, often being paid in fish. Some of which he sold, most of which they ate. By helping fishermen he was learning the mechanics of the motors which powered the fishermen's bancas. It interested him. Though his reading skills were limited he always sought out magazines, or technical books, about motors of all types to learn more.

Despite his family's shortage of money, his Mother organised a celebration for his 17th birthday. More household rubbish than usual needed to be burned the following day. After his Mother had set a fire around midday, a fresh breeze sprung up and lifted some of the embers over the rocks at the base of the balitè tree, where they lodged, scorching its broad trunk.

Within days, his Mother began to suffer a sudden weight loss. Her frail body was wasting away and death seemed to be beckoning too quickly.

The medical diagnosis was cancer of the stomach, its cause being a mystery. The locals knew better, they knew the real cause behind his Mother's cancer was 'Engkanto'. The tree spirit was getting revenge for the burning embers.

Even though his Mother was dying, and in pain, she kept reminding him of the history of his family; insisting that even after her death, he must always listen and remember what his Grandmother would tell him.

He listened only out of respect. At 17, he still took little notice of these old women's tales.

With his Mother unable to work, he had to find real money, not just a few surplus fish. That chance came through the Japanese owned pineapple cannery company, where his Father had worked. Salim had too quickly become the main breadwinner for his younger siblings.

Another interest that had been sparked was girls. Many years before, his Father had unofficially arranged for a marriage partner for him. In his early years he thought little about it. He just knew the one he was supposed to marry was ugly, skinny, had big horrible eyes and was a girl. While he was in his pre-teens and early teens, any girls were the enemy. They were simply creatures to be tolerated and there to help clean house, and fetch and carry food.

Now that he was older, girls somehow seemed different. His chosen partner had also changed in appearance, though he seldom saw her. Even if he did, most of her face was covered with a scarf and her body with a malong. But her big dark eyes looked at him with a promise that his body wanted to take up.

For now he could not. His life would be forfeit if he did the wrong thing and it was before the proper time.

At 18 his Mother had died. At 19 he had married the one betrothed through his Father's arrangement. He had been so proud and yet so sad that neither his Father nor Mother could be with him on his day of dedication. The ugly skinny girl with the big eyes had become the loveliest thing his eyes had ever seen.

They had loved each other so deeply. By the time he was 20 he had fathered his first daughter, Siti; then two years later another daughter, Zahra. He did not care that there were no sons. His love for his wife more than compensated.

Time had passed quickly. He had been working at the Paradise Plantations pineapple canning factory for 18 years. His Grandmother protested vigorously against him working for 'that' company as she so strongly put it. It was the same company that employed his Father.

It was his first real job. When he started, who owned it, or managed it, was not important. It was a good job, regular pay and a chance to learn more about machinery. His Father, along with three workmates, had been killed in an accident while clearing rain forest to expand the company's pineapple plantation area. The 'official' version of the accident had always been suspect in his Grandmother's and Mother's minds.

Over the years he learned more about the business and operations of his company employer. They were involved in both growing fruit and the canning of their own crop, and that which they bought from others. The company owners, the Yamada family, and his family had been linked in an employer, employee relationship for over 55 years, since the Japanese invasion of the Philippines.

Despite his 18 years experience with the Paradise Plantation canning division, his rise in the ranks of hierarchy had been small and slow. Management always pointed to his lack of formal training and qualifications. He knew this was not the reason; it was simply that he was Muslim. Other Muslims were held back even with their university education, because they were told they lacked experience.

Though direct ownership of the corporation was through the Yamada family, the operating and second tier of management were Catholic Tagalogs from Luzon. The current major stockholder and managing director was Ken Yamada, a grandson of Colonel Toshio Yamada, the first generation in the link between the Yamada family and his family.

Salim's position in the company was not officially recognised by title or fair remuneration. His experience and skills unofficially were. It seemed those skills gave him some form of job security. Unofficial company policy could not let it be seen that any official managerial recognition was given to a Muslim.

Ken Yamada spent as much time in Japan as he did in Mindanao. Salim had only seen him a few times; even then it had only been from a distance. He was not much older than Salim, and did not look very Japanese.

Apparently the superior race mentality of Yamada's ancestors did not stretch to marriage with other races. Among Ken Yamada's Japanese forbears, his Grandfather, the former Colonel Toshio Yamada, had taken a Filipina wife who was mestiza of mixed Filipino and Spanish blood. Non-Filipinos were not allowed to own land in the Philippines, so the marriage was one of convenience, arranged to enable Toshio Yamada to procure large land holdings in the Philippines through his Filipina bride. It must have been a successful marriage as they bore three children. Each of those children then also married outside the Japanese race but still qualified as Japanese because the children were born there.

Through dummy corporations, corrupt officials and willingly bought Filipino lawyers, the land holdings controlled by the Yamada family grew rapidly over the post-war years. Some land holdings seemed in the strangest areas, some almost inaccessible. The Grandfather, the former Colonel Toshio Yamada, had been very selective where he wanted to buy in the post-war years, even though nearby and better plantation land had been available at cheaper prices.

The early Spanish rulers too had been well pleased with their Asian colony. It was rich in gold as well as the spices they originally sought. For the soldiers and sailors on those voyages, many had been forced, through debt, to undertake the then perilous voyages. Debts were repaid by their forgoing payment of any wages for the voyage.

Those who survived the voyage out from Spain, especially the soldiers, would then have to spend months, sometimes years, in the Spanish colony. The presence of Philippines gold meant many soldiers spent time seeking the valuable metal. Other skilled artisans then secretly smelted the gold that was found into coins. A percentage of the coins smelted were then taken as payment.

Any discovered booty was technically the property of the Army commander, if the gold was found by a soldier; or the ship's Captain if found by a sailor. To avoid losing their booty to greedy senior officers, many buried their loot with the intention of returning later as a fare paying passenger and digging up their cache. As a paying passenger they were able to keep what they found.

But many died on the return journey to Spain, or of malaria in the Philippines. Others were killed in the many wars Spaniards fought trying to subdue the local natives, especially in the gold rich but Muslim southern dominated areas of Mindanao.

Locals had discovered that the metal had a high value. They too would bury their cache for later retrieval, or would be killed by one of the many roving bands of thieves. For nearly 350 years, gold had been dug out of the earth, sluiced from streams, or stolen from prospectors and buried for later retrieval.

Much had also been hidden away among small Muslim and Catholic family groups, buried for centuries, with only vague knowledge of the whereabouts. Some small caches of gold were recovered after many years of searching.

In many other cases it had been gold the villagers had won through their own hard efforts of sifting and panning the many mountain streams. Then, fighting off and often losing their gains to one of the many groups of roaming bandits. Even in later years fighting off the Catholic Tagalog soldiers from Luzon as well, who claimed their 'official rights' to confiscate unlicensed gold.

None of the unlicensed gold would reach Manila, or get beyond the officers and men who had confiscated it.

Salim's Grandmother had often told him stories of Japanese officers hurriedly burying their ill-gotten treasure as they escaped the advancing US Army.

Colonel Toshio Yamada, of the 30th Division, was stationed in the area from 1942 to 1944. He had been the prime looter and murderer of villagers in his greed for the treasures Spanish sailors had buried during three hundred and fifty years of their occupation of the Philippines.

Salim had begun to recall with more detail and clarity the tales his Grandmother and Mother had told him. About how his Grandfather had been forced to help the Japanese officer, Colonel Toshio Yamada, bury his gold and then how Yamada had murdered all those who buried the gold. After that he had gone to the barrio and killed the families of those who had buried the gold. Only Salim's Grandmother and her three children got away, because of her premonition of danger. She had fled into the rain forest, with her children, and hid with the guerrillas until the Americans arrived.

The subsequent death of Salim's Father and his workmates working for the same company, on land clearing operations, was also suspect. The reasons behind clearing such poor arable land by digging strange trenches seemed odd.

Those suspect deaths added to his anger and frustration at always being passed over for promotion and deserved salary increases. He was also frustrated that credit was given to some Tagalog from Luzon for ideas and plans for plant improvements that he, Salim, had thought up. The Tagalog would be rewarded, while he would be shunned. He began to think about what he had to do to get his personal compensation and revenge.

It began with petty thefts of engine parts which he could adapt and use in his friends and relations' bancas, the small Filipino fishing boats. Then he began to steal tools that he could use to repair those same banca motors. He was sure none of the thefts could ever be traced to him.

He was wrong. Someone, somewhere, must have reported his actions.

Though when he had been summonsed to the main office 'that day', he had thought it was to once again elaborate on another of the ideas he had. He had been required to go to the main office many times for that purpose.

Instead, he was greeted by an angry management team and the local police. The managing director, Ken Yamada stood watching. The deputy management threatened to allow the police to arrest him for theft and sabotage; then withdrew the threat as 'recognition' of his past contribution to the company. But the company fired him anyway.

He felt relief that he was not going to jail. He could not live being separated from his wife and children. So he thanked them for their generosity and compassion.

He would have felt differently had he known what was happening at his home while he was in the office.

Five of the company's armed factory security Tagalog Filipino 'goons' had been sent to his home. Using the pretence they were looking for stolen factory equipment, they had forced entry into his home. They tied up his wife and two daughters, put them all into the bedroom and ransacked the home. Failing to find anything which belonged to the factory, they decided to leave a message that Salim could not fail to understand.

All five raped his wife in front of his two daughters.

When he returned to his home, he found his wife, still on their bed, nude, with her hands and legs free of any bindings. She was just lying there, not a mark or bruise on her body. His two daughters were still bound and crying crouched in the corner.

Why had his wife not fought her attackers?

He could not forgive her for that.

Now, three months later, she was dead.

All the stories, ingrained into his subconscious over the years, had become crystal clear in his mind. All the evils that had happened to his family over the past 55 years had the same root cause. The Yamada family.

His mind was rapidly becoming focused. He would punish Yamada and all those connected with the Yamada family.

Now his wife was dead. They had killed his wife. He would get his revenge. He would plan that revenge in detail to the utmost degree. Revenge would not just be for the death of his beautiful wife, but for all the sins and degradation the Yamada family and their associates had inflicted on his ancestors over three generations.

## **********

## CHAPTER 2

## MEMORIES

### Auckland, NEW ZEALAND

With his annual contract up for review, T.A. felt he needed a pause to clarify where he was going in his life. Professionally he needed to figure out if what he was working at, with his current employers, was right for him. Too many of his economic and investment research reports, submissions and opinions had been ignored or rejected through the petty bickering and jealousies of office politics; or worse, with minor adjustments claimed as the research of a director.

In the early days he had forecast the Russian invasion of Chechnya from the economic and social indicators. He warned that the criminal activities and corruption driven by blackmail within Russia was costing that government billions causing aid and foreign investment to disappear.

The Russians could not control the Chechnyan led Russian Mafia within Russia, so the alternative was to hit the home bases, the real root of the Russian problem. Only the Chechnyan bombings within Russia provided an excuse for Russian retaliation and a display of force. For once, freedom of the press worked for the Russians in gaining popular support against the Chechnyan terror attacks.

The Russian leaders hoped full scale military action with public support might diminish, and the Chechnyans' economic blackmail, extortion, and threats against foreign investors within Russia fail.

T.A. had accurately forecast the overthrow of Suharto in Indonesia and independence for East Timor. His forecast of a swing to the right in the politics in Austria had also been correct. He knew that would cause economic and political problems for the European Economic bloc. His early predictions of the Greek, Spanish and Italian economic crisis had all been laughed off.

More recently his forecasts of the collapse of selected financial institutions proved correct

All of these reports were ignored. His investment bank employer suffered losses equally with their competitors instead of being quarantined from the effects by timely changes in policy.

Secondly, after his incarceration and escape from Apuao Grande during the New Peoples' Army (NPA) uprising in the Philippines during his holiday there, he felt there were many mysteries he wanted to resolve.

Soon after his recovery twelve months ago, his gymnasium work-outs, running and squash had made him feel both mentally alert and physically satisfied. Recently, the weekly and very competitive squash games against his workmates and the gymnasium work-outs had become boring.

He felt physically fit but his mind was in a state of ennui. He needed some excitement in his life, just not to the extreme as had happened on Apuao Grande. Excitement, with stability, should not be hard to find.

The women he had been dating lacked the femininity he sought, and were more into playing mind games than developing either a full relationship or a proper friendship. He felt the pleasant company of a feminine woman in his life, however temporary, might help.

His thoughts seemed to naturally progress to a return visit to the Philippines. He could obtain temporary company there, then let it lapse after his departure. It was also the only place he could find some answers to the questions he had about what really happened on the island of Apuao Grande over twelve months ago.

The original start date of his current contract had been delayed while he physically recovered from the hostage incident the previous year. The small island resort in San Miguel Bay to the east of Luzon had dominated so much of his thinking over the twelve months, and it had affected the quality of his work.

Within a couple of weeks of returning to Sydney after leaving the hospital in Manila; even though he felt physically fully recovered, the nightmares were mentally draining. Thankfully, the bad dreams had diminished. Now, they were not as bad, or as frequent.

Yet, the missing gaps had increased his desire to learn what happened to the other hostages after he had escaped from the tennis court where they had all been held.

Local newspapers, at the time, had reported widely, but very generally, on the nationwide incidents of the takeover of several Philippine tourist resorts, and holding of foreign hostages by the Philippines New People's Army (NPA), the armed wing of the Communist Party. But none gave very much detail of events in any specific localities.

He felt quite peeved that he had not been approached by a newspaper to recount his story, or even asked for an interview by a TV station. He was at one of the three resorts where things had gone awry for the NPA and he was the only one who had escaped during the NPA control. Many of the American and European tourists, with considerably less to tell, had been paid enormous sums.

He had managed to dine out occasionally on the strength of his personal experiences. Some of it he had self-censored to retain secrets he felt were better left unsaid. His reason for that was not even clear in his own mind. He was protecting something or someone. He did not know why.

With so many things he did not understand about the Apuao Grande Island episode, he wanted to uncover the truth. But to do so would mean he too would have to reveal many things he felt needed to keep secret, and to himself. Some questions, wrongly put, might reveal he knew more than the authorities had been able to uncover. Or they might uncover what the authorities did not want known.

He had spent many hours researching newspapers and internet reports. They were too generalised, too broad, and all without specifics.

Apuao Grande had only been mentioned because it was the last place retaken by Government forces. Yet it seemed to him that more had happened on that island than anywhere else. Even that which was reported was mostly inaccurate. He could not correct what had been written. One report in Manila had referred to him as a source of information. Much of that he had lied about when interviewed while in hospital, to protect who or what, he did not know. It was too late now to put the record straight.

None of the newspapers had reported anything about the involvement of foreign mercenaries, mostly of Arab extraction. They were certainly involved on his island.

Another major mystery had been the letter he had received while recuperating in the Manila hospital immediately after being evacuated from Apuao Grande. It was from Singapore and signed by a Father Patrick O'Reilly. Somehow he felt it was from Pater, the mysterious ex-pat he had spent so much time with.

He had often thought about Pater during his recovery. Pater had rescued him while he had wandered aimlessly through the rain forest after escaping from the tennis court. The same Pater who was normally so in control of all his actions, then losing it all to attack two M16 carrying Arabs with a knife when they threatened the life of an owner-less dog. The same Pater he vaguely recalled seeing bleeding very badly after fighting with one of the Arabs, before T.A., weakened by his own wounds fighting the second Arab, slipped into unconsciousness.

Though Pater was only one of several ex-pats living on the island, it seemed there was more to him than was public knowledge. On the Island he was passing himself off as a construction engineer. T.A. felt sure the island resort management was aware that there was more to Pater's activities. They seemed to aid Pater in maintaining his anonymity. To T.A., even Pater's aura emitted some mystery which would have been impolite to have asked about.

The second letter T.A. received at his Sydney home was equally mysterious. There were inferences in the letter that only he would understand and might give a clue to the identity of the writer. Though that too was signed by a Father Patrick O'Reilly, T.A. was unsure if it came from Pater because official reports, after the siege, listed Pater as being dead, despite the absence of a body.

T.A., though sad that Pater was probably dead, he was not fully convinced after the letters. But the need for the evasiveness of the letters confused him. T.A. had not given the full story as he knew it, or of Pater's involvement in what had happened. Both letters had referred to things that he was sure only Pater and he knew about.

And, because both the letter he received in hospital in Manila and the one received in Sydney were signed by Father Patrick O'Reilly, T.A. was curious why he had been singled out for this correspondence. T.A. had never heard of Father Patrick O'Reilly. They might just as well have been anonymous. Without directly asking, the letters hinted that it would be appreciated if T.A. limited his explanation of what had happened on Apuao Grande.

There were also other ghosts too he felt he had to exorcise. The people he needed to talk to would never reveal what they knew, if anything, by telephone or by mail. He would have to talk with them face to face. Also, he was not certain who might know something. He could not learn anything sitting behind a desk in Sydney; he would have to return to the Philippines. Therefore he had three purposes in going there. To learn what had really happened; to enjoy himself on some beautiful beach; and just as in getting back on the horse, so to speak, after a bad fall, to prove to himself that he still had enough confidence to travel alone without fear.

His employers would have to understand he needed an extended holiday.

## **********

## CHAPTER 3

## ARRIVAL

### Benigno Aquino Airport, PASAY CITY, METRO MANILA

Sleep again eluded him for most of the flight. Though it was only an 8 ½ hour daytime flight from Sydney, he had wanted to sleep if only to avoid communication with the other passengers. Too many were getting intoxicated from the free alcohol. The more the flight progressed the more intoxicated they became. Some became obnoxious bores.

As usual he had requested a window seat to avoid the inconvenience of being beside someone with a weak bladder, or excessive drinking co-traveller, stumbling over him frequently to get to the toilets. This time it turned out he need not have worried. His unknown travelling companion to his right on the aisle seat also seemed to sleep or feign sleep for much of the trip. The only time that passenger stirred was for the two meals. Perhaps he too was feeling uncommunicative.

Collection of his baggage and passage through Immigration and Customs went smoother than ever before. He easily spotted the attendant outside the nearest exit door holding the Swagman Hotel placard. The double automatic doors opened at his approach and he was immediately hit by the heat and humidity of the outside temperature.

The placard holder waved at an assistant wearing a Swagman Hotel T-shirt. The assistant quickly relieved T.A. of his backpack and escorted him to the bus. The usual sea of waiting faces was outside the building, held back by the flimsy barriers. Being first on the bus he had a choice of any seat. It also meant he would have a long wait before the bus departed. The driver would wait until the last of the passengers had been cleared from this flight in case there might be more prospective custom for the hotel. That meant more commission for him.

After 45 minutes, and nearing 8:00 P.M., the bus pulled away into the Manila night for the slow traffic crawl to their destination. T.A. remembered the notorious reputation of chaos of traffic in Manila. He wondered if the other two passengers sharing the air-conditioned mini-bus had seen it before. He nestled into his seat as comfortably as he could for what he knew would be a long slow trip.

## \----------

The hotel check-in went quickly. He put his airline tickets, passport, cash and some other valuables into the reception's personal security box. Within minutes he was enjoying a shower in his room on the third level. The hotel, though owned by Australians', did use the American system for numbering the floors. The British system began with the ground floor, the next one up being the first floor and so on. To the Americans, the British ground floor was their level one. It was a part of the American culture that he agreed with.

As he began to dress he realised the curtains were open. His room overlooked the narrow alley which separated the Swagman from the larger Bayview Prince Hotel. He had stayed at the Bayview Prince on his first ever trip to the Philippines. That hotel had been through massive renovations since he stayed there and increased their room rates accordingly. The windows of the guest rooms at Bayview looked into those of the Swagman, and vice versa, so unhidden activities in one could be seen by the occupants of the other.

He was not hungry but did feel like a drink. One of the effects of flying on him was he always felt thirsty afterwards.

Downstairs, in the combined restaurant bar, he ordered his favourite drink in the Philippines, calamansi juice. Green in colour, the calamansi is a round citrus fruit the size of a large thumb. Though half of it is filled with seed, the juice squeezed from one is about enough to fill a teaspoon. The juice of six or seven calamansi in a glass, then filled with water and adding sugar according to personal taste, is like a mixture of limes and grape fruit. The most refreshing and quenching drink he had ever had. Also he loved it with hot water. Many locals drink tea with calamansi as Europeans drink tea with lemon or lime. Hot it is supposed to be good for sore throats. Hot or cold it is supposed aid in weight loss.

Sipping on his cold calamansi he looked around for any familiar faces. There were a few people he had seen before, but none so far with who he wanted to spend time.

About 10:45 p.m., he was about to give up and return to his room when Ben, the manager of the Apuao Grande resort emerged from the side office and walked through the lounge toward the small separate 'Aussie Bar'. The resort on Apuao Grande was one of the many owned and operated by the Swagman Hotel company.

"You're looking well Ben," said T.A. as Ben approached.

Ben nodded, not recognising T.A., and walked on. Then stopped a few yards past where T.A. sat, turned and walked back.

"Bloody Hell. It's you. I often wondered if we'd ever see you again after the events at Apuao Grande."

"Yeah, back again. Hoping it's a little less exciting this time."

"Some of the old hands often ask if I've seen you."

"I guess I've got lots of thing that I'm back here to find out. I don't know what happened to everyone after I went bush. I'd like to find out a few things."

"Got a few minutes? Asked Ben."

"Sure."

Ben signalled to one of the waitresses.

"Bring us....," he looked at T.A., "my shout, what'll you have?"

"Whatever you're having," replied T.A.

"Bring four San Miguel stubbies to the office. And then I'm not to be disturbed for 15 minutes."

"C'mon," said Ben, and led the way to his private office. "I've been the manager here in the Manila Swagman for about six months. I don't think the resort will ever recover."

T.A. let him go on.

"Oh, that's nothing to do with the hostage thing that happened. The resort was virtually blown apart by a cyclone along with most of the personal houses about three months later."

"Tell me Ben, does anyone really know what the hell went on?"

T.A. eased further back into the well padded and comfortable chair across the desk opposite Ben. He watched while Ben tidied a few papers and put an extra ashtray on the desk. The drinks arrived and they both lit up their own choice of cigarettes. It seemed Ben was trying to gather his thoughts. Eventually Ben started.

"Well, in some ways, things appear to have happened on Apuao Grande just as they did at all the other resorts. The NPA (New Peoples' Army – military wing of the Communist Party of the Philippines) just suddenly vanished. Everyone had been locked in the tennis court. Some people noticed the guards seemed to be gone. A few crawled under the wire where Pater had got out and some Japanese scaled the fence. Some of the tourists that had escaped the round-up eventually came out of hiding. Someone smashed the padlock and let everyone out. Because of all the cheering, the Philippine Army soldiers hiding on Little Apuao, emerged and came across the sand spit. Apart from the soldiers, our release seems pretty much the same as happened everywhere else. Well that's what it seems from the newspapers."

T.A. nodded.

"But our staff at the island was subject to quite a bit of questioning, as were the locals. Quite a few bodies were found, killed by all manner of means. Four Filipinos, not locals, and four Arab looking guys."

"Oh?" responded T.A. "What happened?"

"Nobody seems to know."

"That's not even counting the dead Arab with his head cut off floating in a banca offshore and the poor mutilated young local girl they found dead with him."

"Oh?" This time T.A. did not have to feign his surprise, it was something he was not aware of.

"Because of your beaten up condition and the bullet graze on your head, people seem to think you might be the reluctant heroic tourist."

"Hell no"

"Well what happened to you?

"After I got out I thought I might have linked up with Pater or someone, but I never saw anyone."

T.A. noticed Ben eyes narrow at that statement and try and hide a grin. Did Ben know he was lying?

"I never really even saw the guy who beat the crap outta me or even remember how I got shot."

Ben's eyes were still narrowed. Maybe it was only his way of concentrating on T.A's story.

"I never found out what happened to Pater. Is he still on the island?"

Ben looked even harder at T.A., then down at a large calendar pad on his desk.

"No. The authorities think he must have tried to swim away. They never found his body. Sharks, drowning, who knows?"

T.A. had to look away to prevent giving a clue that he might know otherwise.

"Everyone else safe though?"

"Well no actually. That German couple, they disappeared. One of the Filipino's that had also gone bush reckons he saw them getting away in a banca on the first night of the takeover. But they never turned up anywhere else. That one is a mystery."

The faces of the German couple flashed into T.A.'s mind.

"The Army queried everyone about who had first aid knowledge after you turned up. Apparently whoever patched you up really knew what they were doing."

T.A. nodded. He would like to know as well.

A dim memory of pink Reboks flashed into his mind. He sat up and after a few seconds he realised he had his mouth open as though ready to speak. He shut it. He had not thought of the Reboks since the incident happened.

"Thought of something?" asked Ben.

"No, just each answer seems to give me more questions."

"That girl you were on the Island with telephoned a few times for several months after the incident to find out where you were. She said her letters to Australia were being returned unopened. What happened there? She was the one who found you in the bush and got that Filipino fellow to haul your big arse to the restaurant before the Army flew you out on a chopper."

T.A. remembered too vividly the real circumstances of who found who and subconsciously let out a sigh of disappointment.

"A long story Ben. It didn't quite happen the way she seems to have told it. It's a bit personal."

Ben nodded as if he knew.

"What happened to the dog, Fred?"

"Recovered fully, but then just disappeared about three months ago. He'd gotten a lot slower after his injuries. Probably taken by a python."

T.A. shuddered at the thought.

They both sat in silence, each deep in their own thoughts.

A knock at the door signalled the arrival for the pre-arranged interruption.

"Well T.A., it's really good to see you, and looking healthy. I really mean that. You were a bloody mess the last time I saw you. We'll talk some more after I get some work done."

T.A. nodded, as they shook hands before he left. He had wanted to ask more questions but he did not want to reveal that he knew as much as he did.

## **********

## CHAPTER 4

## THE RED LIGHT DISTRICT

### Ermita, MANILA.

T.A. considered this first twenty four hours as simply jet-lag recovery time. Many passengers would be sleeping, but after his chat with Ben he felt he had already started his inquiries. It would also be good to find some good female company early on, but that could wait.

After the conversation with Ben, T.A. had gone to bed, but then tossed and turned much as he did 12 months ago. The dreams had returned, very vividly. Though he slept to around midday he thought the restless night might be because of being in a different bed. Also it always seemed he was more prone to jet-lag than most. His late sleep was disturbed by the room service personnel wanting to make up his room. Sitting in the comfortable easy chair he watched the room maids do their chores before he showered and once again fell between the clean sheets.

He felt considerably better when he awoke after 5:00 P.M. and dressed casually before going to the hotel restaurant to enjoy a good quality T-bone steak, fries and vegetables.

He washed those down with a couple of stubbies of San Miguel, the local Filipino beer, and felt ready to start his holiday proper.

From the Swagman Hotel to the start of the red-light district in Ermita was about four hundred metres. Most hotel guests took a taxi for the short distance to avoid the pedlars and beggars en-route. T.A. preferred to walk. It was not that he felt immune, isolated from or had become insensitive to the problems on the street. It was all part of the atmosphere of the city. He really wanted to see the lives some people had to live to survive. In his being there as a target for the pedlars pitch, or the beggars pleading; he felt he could sense the suffering. Also to learn if any of the con-stories were new.

He did not have guilt feelings about being from a supposed wealthy country. Everything was relative. This country had oil, gold and agricultural riches greater than most countries, and the population numbers to exploit that wealth. Managed correctly, all the resources could be husbanded without damage to the environment and the whole country would benefit. As late starters in modernisation and development they could learn from the environmental mistakes other countries had made; if they had wanted to.

It was not as though there were too few adequately qualified people to do it; quite the reverse. The introduction of an American style education system by their former colonial rulers had seen to that.

One of the major problems seemed to be that many in charge, though university graduates; were from rich families who had basically purchased their degrees. As a result they were often not really qualified, only lettered. To prevent their positions being threatened by more competent underlings, they would hire even less qualified or less competent subordinates. To overcome design and material deficiencies, pay-offs would be made to corrupt officials. Those corrupt officials then were in financial positions to buy degrees for themselves or their family. The situation became self perpetuating.

But that was a world away from these street people living and sleeping under sheets of corrugated iron in the parks or on the grassed median strips of the highways. These people survived on what they could beg, borrow or steal. Thankfully very little violence was practiced against "Americanos" as all Europeans were termed.

Many of the adult street people had arrived in Manila from the provinces, and spent the last of their meagre savings to get to Manila where they had dreams of making their fortunes. Here, those dreams were so often shown to be more fragile than the finest crystal and shattered twice as easily.

They then became imprisoned in Manila by a combination of excessive pride preventing them from returning home as a failure, and lack of funds to do so even if they swallowed their pride. Then, under-nourished, they were unable to do a full days labour if work was available.

The reasons for the large number of children on the street had almost as many different stories as there were children. Some were simply abandoned yet had somehow managed to survive. The reasons for their abandonment were also just as varied. Some had strong European features, abandoned by mothers too ashamed to take any baby home. Others were off-spring of and part of the new sub-culture that had developed among the street population. Without the normally strong family support system based on bloodlines, a strong-point of Philippines society on which they could normally rely, the street people had developed their own strong and wider family system without bloodlines but based on the common ground of poverty.

It was 7 P.M., already about 90 minutes after sunset, when T.A. left through the front doors of the Swagman. One of the two armed guards/doormen asked if he needed a taxi, he declined. They wished him an enjoyable night. Both guards/doormen were carrying rifles which did not look real, even to his untrained eye. The barrels were like simple pieces of pipe screwed and clamped into genuine wooden stocks. The trigger mechanisms also looked genuine. He had not bothered to ask but presumed they could have been some sort of home made shotguns; the bore was far too big for a standard rifle bullet. Perhaps he would ask later.

Soon after stepping out of the comfort of the air-conditioned hotel, the muggy heat started the sweat beads to form on his forehead.

The smells were like those of a distant rubbish tip. He wanted to blow his nose to get rid of the dust and smell. But that would have been counter-productive as cleared nostrils would mean he would only get a stronger rubbish tip aroma.

T.A. had only moved a few metres away from the door, just beyond the range of a 'move away' order from the hotel guards, when the first of the street hawkers approached him. Quite tidily dressed in jeans and loose fitting T-shirt with "God Is Love And Truth" emblazoned on it. The old rubber thongs on his feet looked several sizes too large.

"Hey Joe," he called. "I gotta really good watch for you. Special price, just for you."

T.A. guessed he might be in his late 20's. "Yeah, what is it?"

"Rolex. Got it from my cousin who's just come back from America."

"Yeah, let me see it," answered T.A.

The hawker pulled an attractive deep velvet coloured box from his jeans pocket, and opened it to reveal a watch wrapped in a small plastic bag.

"Don't try and run away with it," the Filipino grinned.

"Don't worry; you'd be faster than me."

T.A. removed the plastic bag and examined the beautifully crafted gold piece with matching gold band.

"Gee, this is fantastic," said T.A. "How much?"

"For you, 50,000 pesos. It's the only one he brought back."

"Come on, get real."

"Well my cousin might kill me but he really needs the money. I'll let you have it for 40,000."

"That's over 900 US dollars."

"20,000 pesos. The best price I can do."

"Is it the only Rolex you've got? If I get one, my brother would want one too." T.A. lied; he did not have a brother.

"Well. My cousin didn't really want me to, but if I have to sell his own personal one to get the money for his Mum's operation, then I'll have to."

With that the hawker pulled another plastic wrapped watch from his back pocket.

"Sorry, no fancy box for my cousin's personal one."

T.A. grinned at the hawker and looked directly into his eyes.

"I think you're trying to kid me aren't you?"

"We can come to a good deal for the two watches if you like."

"I think your cousins trying to trick you into selling fake watches. These watches have a Casio watch movement. Here, I'll show you something."

The hawker looked at T.A. and feigned surprise.

T.A. went on. "See the second hand of the watch."

"Yes," said the hawker, now looking at the watch face with genuine interest.

"See how it jumps. As each second passes, the second hand moves around the face, it makes one jump every second, 60 jumps in a minute."

"Yes, yes," the hawker watched the second hand.

"Well, in a genuine Rolex the movement is steady," T.A. raised his forefinger and slowly and steadily moved it to simulate the genuine Rolex movement. "The second hand does not jump like this." He then jerked his finger in a series of short, quick movements.

The hawker looked at T.A. and grinned.

"I think that cousin of yours must be a bit naughty if he's trying to get you to sell Rolex copies," T.A. smiled at the hawker.

"Yeah, he is."

"I knew it wasn't your fault, you're wearing a T-shirt that says God Is Love And Truth."

"Thanks for showing me that bit about the second hand Joe."

"That's O.K, but my name isn't Joe. My friends call me T.A."

"We call all Americanos Joe."

"After G.I. Joe, I know. But not everyone with a white face is American.

"My names Nilo. Where you from then Joe? sorry, T.A."

"I've just flown in via Sydney, Australia, where I worked for a few years."

"An Aussie eh?"

"No. I was born in New Zealand, from Auckland."

"Oh a Kiwi. Good butter from New Zealand."

T.A. was not surprised at the reaction; he had received similar responses before. He just nodded.

"Where ya going tonight T.A., I can get a good girl for you, a nice young virgin if you want, but not cheap. At least she'll be clean. No diseases."

"Thanks Nilo, but no thanks, I'm just gonna walk around a bit. There's lots of 'girlie bars' around here. There was really good one I used to go to. I just can't remember the name of it at the moment. I'll know it when I see it."

"You need to be careful in those sorts of places. There are lots of pick-pockets around here. Keep your money in your front."

"Thanks Nilo, good idea." T.A. swung his bum bag to his front as if in response to Nilo's suggestion. Apart from the inconvenience of losing the bag, T.A. would not have cared if it was stolen. When he went out he only carried a few hundred pesos in it, about 20 American dollars worth, and a few novelty give-a-way items. The larger sums of money were unseen in a pouch under his trouser belt.

T.A. moved off in the direction of the red light district. Nilo fell in beside him as naturally as if he had been invited. T.A. knew he would now get to the 'girlie bars' without any hassles from any other beggars or pedlars. Any that looked like they were going to approach were waved away by Nilo.

Occasionally Nilo would pause briefly to chat with someone and introduce T.A. as his friend from New Zealand. T.A. would stop and wait, acknowledging the glances in his direction from Nilo's friends with a nod of his head. The more people Nilo stopped to chat with briefly, and introduce T.A. as his friend, the safer T.A. felt. Though he might not recognise them later, he knew they would remember him as Nilo's Americano friend and keep a wary eye out for his safety. That would be good for as long as his few days stay in the area. For a few days, when these new friends would call out a greeting, T.A. knew he would always respond with a similar cheery greeting. This approach meant he would rarely be hassled on the street if any of Nilo's friends were nearby, they would quickly intercede and warn off any pedlar or beggar.

It was a lesson he had learned early during his first trip to the Philippines. A little courtesy and friendship was returned manyfold in this community.

As the first of the 'girlie bars' came into sight, Nilo spotted a couple of American sailors in uniform leaving the bar.

"I've gotta go T.A., they might wanna buy a Casio watch."

"Hang on," said T.A., reaching into his bum bag and extracting a small soft toy koala fashioned around a bulldog clip. He clipped it to the neck opening of Nilo's T-shirt. "Give this to your girlfriend."

Nilo looked at it with a broad grin, genuine appreciation, and nodded.

"Now you'd better see if you can sell your Rolex's."

Nilo's grin widened to a full smile. "Maybe I'll see you tomorrow. Good luck with finding a beautiful Filipina tonight for some good jig-a-jig."

T.A. winked, nodded and walked on as Nilo began his spiel with the American sailors.

## **********

## CHAPTER 5

## GETTING COMPANY

Having parted company with Nilo, T.A. wanted to get down to his not too serious search for female companionship.

Where the sailors had just exited, the guards were now coaxing T.A. to come inside to see 'the sexiest and best girls in all of the Philippines.' Why not?' thought T.A., he had plenty of time to find his favourite bar later.

Once inside the two sets of doors and past the five armed guards, the room was nicely cooled with air conditioning. All of these bars had a standard subdued blue lighting that showed the girls in the most complimentary way. It also probably made some of the uglier patrons look better to the girls as well.

The semi-circle-shaped bar service area was at the same level as the patrons and separated the patrons from the girls dancing on the raised stage. The two metre wide raised stage for the girls was about the shoulder height of the patrons. It seemed standard in all bars to have ceiling to floor firemen's poles to which the girls clung as they swayed and danced to some 1960's and 70's slow rock. All the girls wore tiny white G-string bikini bottoms barely covering their private parts, and equally small tops. Some few danced in bare feet, most danced in white high heel shoes to make their legs look longer.

It was still early for most of the tourist trade, the bar still almost empty. Later the packed crowd would jostle each other shoulder to shoulder, many patrons in varying states of intoxication.

The bar assistant was surprised when he asked for a cold calamansi juice instead of a beer. Along with his drink she placed another small glass in front of him and placed a token in it. This was to indicate the price of the drink that he would have to pay before he left. He knew the normal pay as you go cash system would be used when the bar started to get crowded.

T.A. counted eight other patrons in two groups, seated on the stools around the bar, all staring at the mesmeric swaying of the lithe brown bodies. The beautiful brownness highlighted by the contrast of the white bikinis. Ten girls were currently showing their wares. All had cute little bodies. T.A. noticed, even in the dim light, three had faint traces of stretch marks; the result of a past pregnancy. He began thinking perhaps he was becoming too critical or choosy. After all, the ones that had given birth should know what sex was all about and be good in bed. That seemed a stupid thought. They would all know, otherwise they would not be working here.

There would be a regular turnover of girls throughout the 24 hours that most of the bars were open. The girls would dance for maybe 20 minutes before taking a break, and immediately replaced by another group, swapping around until picked by some patron.

Four of the current girls were competing to catch his eye and were looking directly at him as they moved their bodies in wonderfully suggestive motions around and against the poles, sometimes moving down into a crouch to show off their shapely bottoms and waggle them in his direction.

T.A. began wishing he had known about such places in his early 20's and had the money then to travel. If so, he doubted he would ever have married when he did. Well, the divorce was many years ago, he was not currently in a relationship, and he was in Manila.

Three of the girls looking at him were only deserving of a second look because of their skimpy clothing. The fourth, dancing barefoot, had long shapely legs that did not need high heels to emphasise their length, yet she was not tall. The face was round with the Sophia Loren high cheek bones. Her hair was just below shoulder length. Her age was impossible to judge. T.A. had only ever been close in guessing the age of young Filipino women by adding ten years to his first guess. She looked 18 so T.A. estimated she was about 28.

When she realised T.A. was looking at her more than any of the other dancers she gave him a really broad smile. Then, genuinely or feigned, she seemed to show some shyness and embarrassment. To avoid making her further embarrassed, T.A. looked down into his calamansi drink, took a further sip to empty the glass, and ordered another. The bar assistant again queried his order and he had to reconfirm he did not want a beer instead. She shrugged her shoulders and moved off to get the drink.

When the bar assistant returned, T.A. pointed to the girl who had caught his eye and asked the assistant her name.

"Marivic? You want her?"

"Well, when she's ready for a break, I'd like to talk to her," T.A. responded. It annoyed him that he felt embarrassed. He had done this a dozen times before. Yet he still felt embarrassed about it.

The assistant went directly to the stage, caught Marivic's eye, who had been watching what had been going on anyway, then, the assistant nodded in his direction.

Marivic self consciously walked to the end of the stage where the steps were. The other dancers teasing her and laughing as she walked past them. Then putting on a white jacket and some middle height shoes she rounded the exit from the bar counter and walked to T.A. He stood as she approached and noticed her height barely reached his shoulder even with her shoes.

"Hello, I'm Marivic. You wanted to see me?"

"Yes. I thought you might like a rest. Can I buy you a drink of something?"

She signalled to the attendant who brought her a glass of what T.A, presumed was coke, and threw another different coloured token into the glass. Marivic would now get a commission on whatever he drank. He felt sorry for her because he drank little alcohol, therefore her commission would be low.

"What's your name," she asked.

"Friends call me T.A."

"What's T.A. mean?"

She really was cute, everything nicely proportioned, petite. She even looked good under the white silk, thigh length jacket with the V-front cleavage just sufficient to show enough of the white bikini top. With the jacket having only two buttons, the slightest movement gave a flash of the bikini bottoms. Her English so far was very good.

Even if he traipsed to a series of bars it seemed unlikely he would find another as cute as this little package. If she turned out to be devoid of personality he could always let her go early.

"It's a long story. But you can tell me what Marivic means."

"Maria Victoria."

"O.K. Maria Victoria. Am I too old and too ugly to have the pleasure of your company in Manila this evening?"

"You want short time or all night?"

"Let's be greedy, the whole night."

"I have to pay the bar fine before I can leave, then I can get properly dressed and you can pay my fee.

T.A. pushed his hand down the front of his jeans and extracted some US notes in 5, 10 and 20 denominations. Marivic looked at T.A's action with surprise in her eyes.

"Are you wondering what else I've got down there?" he said as he passed her some notes. "You pay the fine and give me the change eh?"

T.A. felt he might as well test her honesty now.

When she returned a few minutes later, initially he did not recognise her. Her hair was tied back tightly in a pony tail and she was wearing a light cream blouse, dark blue skirt and high heel shoes. He stared at her. She looked like a very attractive business woman.

"Don't you like me any more?" she asked as she held out her hand, palm down to hide the contents from onlookers.

"Even more attractive," he responded genuinely as he took the change from her tiny hand and put it in his jeans pocket without counting it.

He offered his arm and she took it linking her arm through his as they left the bar to the cheery farewells of the guards.

"Please," she said, leaning toward him and speaking quietly toward his ear. "Be careful with the money in your pocket. Even you would not feel the one who might steal it." She clutched her small black purse tightly into her chest with her free arm.

'A good sign', thought T.A. She was already protecting him and as well had not asked for her fee. The trust seemed mutual.

They walked in a direction away from the Swagman Hotel.

"Where is your hotel?" she asked.

"Back that way," he replied indicating behind him with a nod of his head.

"Where are you going then?"

"I thought you might like a meal at a restaurant."

She stopped, and T.A. paused wondering what was wrong. She reached up and touched his cheek as she looked into his eyes.

"Thanks," she said, then held his arm and her purse tighter as they walked further into the red light district.

## \----------

The next three hours went quickly for T.A. He enjoyed her company immensely. Though he had eaten before going out, he ordered again to avoid embarrassing Marivic. After she had finished eating and sat back rolling her eyes commenting on how full she was. T.A. requested his food be put in a container to take back to the hotel in case he or Marivic felt hungry later.

He learned that she was the third oldest of a family of seven, only the youngest being a boy. She was a Bachelor of Science Graduate major in Architecture from the Mindanao State University (MSU) in Marawi.

T.A. had never been able to understand the university degree system in the Philippines. To him the degree should simply have been described as a Bachelor of Architecture.

Her family were from City of Iligan which was on the island of Mindanao in part of the greater area generally known by most people as the Visayas. Though technically speaking it was not. Most people spoke the Visayan language. Mindanao was the second largest island of the Philippines. The locals thought of themselves as Mindanaons; especially those pushing for an independent Mindanao.

## \----------

### Linamon, Northwest Mindanao

The 22 men had been gathered in Salim Hassan's house for almost an hour while his daughters Siti and Zahra, dressed in their full length malongs and scarves over their faces, fed the guests fish and rice, and kept their glasses filled with coca-cola.

The house had never seen so many people within its walls at the one time and there was not a lot of room to allow the visitors to circulate.

Many were Salim's relations and friends in Linamon. Others were his contacts in the Moro National Liberation Front (MNLF)

When Salim felt his guests had sated themselves sufficiently, he attracted his daughters' attention and gave them a nod. They quickly absented themselves going down the stairs and walking to the stony beach where they would sit and wait until summonsed by their Father.

Salim divulged his plan to those present, plans he had considered and formulated over the preceding weeks. Now he wanted those who had promised assistance for his revenge to honour their promises.

He knew he now had to act quickly to put his plan into action. His contacts in Yamada's canning factory near Iligan had revealed the probable travel plans of Ken Yamada for the next two weeks. This meant he could probably carry out an operation against Yamada with reasonable certainty of success. One of the main problems had always been the uncertainty of where Yamada would be at any particular time. Before now he had never had sufficient time to organise his forces to act in a co-ordinated fashion. Other contacts in Cagayan de Oro, where Yamada was going to, would give him up to the minute reports of where Yamada would be.

He knew he would have to act now. Another opportunity like this might not present itself for a long time.

## \----------

### Manila

T.A. and Marivic visited a nightclub for a few dances, staying only until some other 'lady' attempted to lure T.A. away. That resulted in a verbal spat between Marivic and the other woman. Marivic then dragged T.A. out of the club and asked to go to a karaoke bar. He was enjoying her company more than he had expected. At the karaoke bar she surprised him with her vocal talents.

Twice in their travels, T.A. spotted Nilo plying his Rolex/Casio watches. Both times Nilo called out a greeting and gave the thumbs up seeing Marivic by his side.

Approaching 11.30 P.M. T.A. and Marivic began to make their way back to the Swagman Hotel. This time, when Nilo spotted them, he ran across the road between the traffic to greet them.

"I'll be going home to Cagayan de Oro in a few days. I'll stay there for a few weeks. I managed to sell a Rolex."

"What? For 900 US?"

"No, that would have been robbery."

"You were going to rob me."

"That was before you became my friend."

Marivic chipped in and spoke with Nilo in whatever language she was using. Nilo must have understood and he conversed with Marivic to T.A's exclusion and annoyance for about a minute.

Nilo must have noticed T.A's frown.

"Your friend is also from Mindanao like me. She was quizzing me that I'd better give you back any money that I'd taken off you. If I didn't she would cause me trouble."

T.A. grinned at the thought that Marivic had become protective of him so quickly.

"Then I told her she had better take care of you properly while I was away or I would cause her trouble." T.A.'s smile widened. Two virtual strangers had become his protective friends.

With that, T.A. flagged a passing taxi and opened the door for Marivic to enter. Nilo waited for Marivic to turn her back, then, he gave a positive nod of the head and the thumbs up sign to T.A. It was a sure sign that he had given the stamp of approval for T.A.'s choice.

In minutes they were back at the Swagman. The greeting guards/doormen looked closely at Marivic as they let her in and then they smiled at T.A. Marivic was required to produce some identification at reception which was recorded. This was simply a security precaution operated in most hotels to record visitor details in case hotel or guest property was stolen. In many ways it was merely protecting the guests against their own stupidity and carelessness.

After drinking a coffee in his room, Marivic asked if she could shower. Within minutes, T.A. had stripped and joined her, the warm water surrounding their embraces.

## **********

## CHAPTER 6

## MANILA, AFTER THE RED LIGHTS

### Ermita, MANILA.

When T.A. woke, he glanced at the pillow next to his. Marivic was still sleeping. T.A. bent his elbow and propped his head on his palm to look at the beautiful face on the white pillow next to him. Some of her long black hair spread over the top of the pillow.

It was a strange feeling. Somehow there was a physical chemistry between them that fired him to arousal more often than he expected. He thought it was only his imagination the first time he felt it when she touched his cheek on the way to the restaurant. Even when they were in the shower he had simply put that down to being a long time since he had had sex.

Then within minutes, lying on the bed, bodies touching; his body sensed a charge that made him want her again. It was a feeling he had sensed with very few women.

As he thought about it, he could remember one he had felt this way with was quite ugly in fact, had a flat chest and no personality. Yet when she was near him or touched him he always became strongly aroused. That relationship lasted several months even though it was only based on his lust.

Whatever this was, there was certainly a strong sexual attraction. The added bonus here was, this woman was also very pretty and had a good personality as well.

Marivic stirred slightly, made a low animal moaning sound from the back of her throat, turned over to face away from him at the same time as moving her back closer and pushing her warm buttocks into his nether regions. With that simple body to body touch he found himself being charged again and becoming aroused.

This time, she was more asleep than awake when he had her, but somehow, perhaps even more because of it, she managed to drag him into her as though her body was surrounding his like the waters of a warm bubble bath.

He rolled onto his back at the end of it and closed his eyes. She rolled over and cuddled into his side, her arm draped over his stomach. It was as if she was not even aware of what had happened.

If this was just lust, he thought, he would enjoy this for a few days more. T.A. felt the exhaustion of sleep calling, and let it take him.

## \----------

When he next awoke, he looked at Marivic's pillow again. This time it was empty. His body and his mind felt so relaxed he could not even think to turn to see where she was.

After a few moments of enjoying the relaxed feeling, he looked around. She was sitting in one of the large comfortable easy chairs provided for the room, her legs tucked up under her. The large chair almost swallowed her. She saw he was awake.

She smiled widely. "Hello sleepy." She got up and walked towards him. She was wearing only bra and panties.

T.A. heard the quiet moan come forth from the back of his throat before he was realised it was him. It was his reaction to seeing her like that.

She kissed him on the cheek before lying on the bed next to him, their bodies separated by the bed sheets. T.A. could not believe what his body was wanting again. Even though he felt quite exhausted, he was starting to become aroused again.

After laying together for a short time, T.A. let common sense rule his body.

"I'll have a shower and let's get some breakfast." He rolled over the top of her, dragging the sheet with him as he went, and locking her arms into her side. Having trapped her like that he began tickling her. Her body jumped in protest as she combined a mixture of squealing and laughing. Then T.A. made a dash for the shower.

"Come on in, I'd love you to wash my back."

Within minutes she had joined him in the warm shower and T.A. surrendered to her touch totally as she proceeded to wash every part of his body with soap and flannel.

When she came to washing his genitals her face took on a very serious expression. He let it pass as maybe just her curiosity. But she was very gentle in the way she washed him, for which he was thankful as he had become a little tender in those parts from the sudden increase in use.

Soon they were both dry and then when they realised the time was close to midday they laughed about how late the breakfast was going to be.

She was fun, he decided. She would be good company and so far seemed to be honest. And the sex was good, really good.

"Would you like to spend a few days with me?" he asked.

She smiled widely. "Yes."

"What about your work, can you get time off?"

Her facial expression went serious for a moment. She went to the phone and presumably dialled the bar. He did not understand any of the conversation. At the end of it, her face again showed the broad smile that he was starting to enjoy seeing.

"Yes I can, for as long as I need to."

"Good," answered T.A. "Let's get something to eat."

After lunch, they shopped for some items for Marivic. She only had the clothes she had been wearing from the bar. The Shopping Centre owned by the Shoe Mart Company was huge. It was larger than any complex he had visited in Sydney and contained a wider range of shops and food stalls than he had ever seen.

They spent several enjoyable hours tasting different food and checking out the shops. T.A. bought Marivic a small soft sided and collapsible suitcase into which they put their purchases. T.A. thought the bag was a sensible one as it folded into a very small size and expanded to various widths. Though they had not even visited half of the shops, they taxied to Robinson's Department store to be closer to their hotel in Ermita.

It was approaching 6.00 P.M. as they left Robinson's. Marivic had purchased a wooden serving bowl as a gift for her Mother. Though it was only a 5-10 minute walk back to the hotel, T.A. decided it would be easier to take a taxi.

They stood outside the doors waiting for a cab to pass which he could whistle for. An intoxicated dirty and dishevelled Filipino, probably in his 30's, staggered past, muttering something, which even though T.A. did not understand, he took to be obscenities.

Marivic moved behind T.A. in fright and gripped his arm with a strength that surprised him. She tried to pull him away from the footpath and back towards the shop doors. For some strange reason there were no guards present inside as would be the case normally.

T.A. did not resist but by the time they were about to re-enter the door, the drunk had staggered past about 15 metres away from them and continued moving slowly further away, still muttering.

He felt the threat, if it was one, had passed. An empty taxi had pulled in to the curb.

Forcing Marivic to release her grip, he swapped the suitcase to his left hand and grasped Marivic's arm. "C'mon lets get this cab." He began to guide her to the taxi.

Marivic let out a scream. T.A. looked up to see the drunk on his left in a staggering run toward him. Then T.A. saw the danger. In the drunks right hand was a long bladed knife. He held it close to his waist as he ran.

T.A. pushed Marivic away and faced the attacker.

"Fucking Yankees!" the drunk screamed, and thrust the knife towards T.A's stomach.

T.A. lifted the bag in his left hand to block the thrust and the knife plunged into the side of the bag and hit the wooden serving bowl.

The drunken Filipino screamed in pain. T.A. wondered why. The Filipino lifted his right hand and grabbed it with his left, covering it. The knife was gone. It had pierced through the side of the bag and embedded into the serving bowl.

Blood started to pump between the fingers the Filipino was holding as he continued to scream. The Filipino must have lost his grip when the thrust hit the solid wooden bowl. His fingers had then slipped onto the sharp cutting edge of the blade.

T.A. looked at the knife embedded in the bag and saw it was a simple long bladed kitchen carving knife, no hilt to prevent the hand slipping. T.A. barely had time to register what had happened to the Filipino's hand. The Filipino reached into his pocket with his uncut hand and produced what seemed to be a large handle. The drunks thumb flicked across the top of the knife and a blade sprung out from the long handle. Once again the drunk began to stagger toward T.A.

T.A. pushed the bag in front of his stomach where he expected the blow to be aimed. A figure raced at the drunk from the side and shoulder charged the drunk to the ground. Just as quickly the knife wielding Filipino was covered by four or five other Filipino's holding him down and punching him, ignoring his existing injury.

Two other Filipino's ran to T.A's side.

"C'mon Nilo's friend, quick, get into the taxi, we'll fix this up."

Marivic and T.A. were pushed unceremoniously into the back of the cab. The speaker grabbed the handle of the blade that was still sticking into the bag and with some effort wrenched it free. He screamed some instruction to the cab driver and banged a fist into the roof. The taxi accelerated away at a speed that T.A. did not think was possible for these little vehicles.

As the taxi turned the corner and into the street where their hotel was located, Marivic turned and took his hands into hers.

"Don't mention what has happened to anyone," she said.

"Christ, why not?"

"Several reasons."

"I'll tell the police. Nobody wants a mad drunk running around with a knife."

"You'll end up spending hours with the police giving details of this and that for evidence. Then maybe lose days hanging around for police line-ups to identify the suspect. Then they'd have to report it all to your consulate."

"Yeah, I suppose the time lost would be a curse."

"Don't worry. Nilo and the others'll give him some good hard street justice."

"Why Nilo?"

"Didn't you see? It was him who hit the drunk with his shoulder."

"Hell no. I didn't. It was all so quick."

If you tell the police, you could get Nilo and his friends into trouble."

T.A. nodded. She was right. A tickling feeling in his stomach had begun. He took a few quick breaths when a shudder rose from his stomach to the hair on his neck. He was beginning to realise how lucky he had been. He definitely owed Nilo.

## \----------

Back in their room, she stripped him, put him in the shower, and washed him from top to toe. He did not resist in any way. The she dried him, made him lay face down on the bed, sprinkled his back with talcum powder and began to massage. He was vaguely aware of moaning with the combination of pleasure and relief as her strong and supple fingers found small muscles that he did not know were tight and worked them to a relaxed state.

The hard squeezing of the massage complete, she began to gently run her fingers over his back with a light tickle touch. Then using her breasts, gently slid them from his buttocks to the nape of his neck. She did this several times. T.A. became as strongly aroused as he had ever been. He rolled onto his back and she took him into her with a circular rolling movement that made him climax as though it was his first sex for months.

## \----------

Something caused him to wake several hours later. He noticed the curtains had not been drawn. Marivic was asleep oblivious to everything as seemed usual for sleeping Filipinos', probably up to and maybe even including a nuclear explosion.

The bedside clock showed the time as 1:42.A.M. T.A. thought about the massage, remembered that the lights were off when she had done it, and breathed a sigh of relief. Although they were three flights up, the narrow one and a half car-width weakly-lit alleyway beside the hotel was all that separated this hotel from the more luxurious Bayview Prince Hotel which fronted on to Roxas Boulevard. The guest rooms at the back of that hotel had clear views into their rooms, and vice versa. T.A. was not an exhibitionist.

Gently easing himself out of the bed he moved toward the window and the curtains. It seemed quiet. He decided to lift the sliding window and look for any activity in the alley. The window slid up without a sound. The muggy heat pushed T.A. back from the window temporarily. Then the combination of wood fire, kitchen odours and refuse came to his nose. There were a few people below to his left in the alley gathered around a small fire in what appeared to be the bottom of a drum. They were boiling something in a pot hanging above the flame.

T.A. felt a hand on his back, which made him jerk a little in fright.

"What's wrong?" asked Marivic.

"Nothing, I just woke and decided to see what was happening outside before I closed the curtains."

They watched as a taxi entered the alley and stopped about 15 metres to the right below their window. It stayed still, nobody exiting for nearly a minute, the occupants in darkness inside the cab shaded from the weak street light directly above the car.

The driver's door flew open and a man screaming something at the top of his voice, carrying something in his hand, ran away from the car.

Marivic leaned out so far T.A. was scared she was going to fall.

"What's happening?" asked T.A.

"There's two people in the cab trying to rob him and steal the taxi. He's run off with the keys."

Within seconds the cab was surrounded by street people. T.A. was amazed where they had come from. Doorways down the alley that he thought were empty had yielded two or three people. Piles of garbage had come alive and people bedded in them for the night had emerged. These robbers and car thieves would not be going anywhere.

The street people swarming around were pulling on the door handles to get in. The car thieves had locked the doors from inside to keep safe from the mob outside. Some mob members had produced lengths of timber and began smashing onto the bodywork of the car and at the windows. A couple with baseball-bats also appeared and began using them for the same purpose.

A car side window smashed and a cheer went up from the mob, followed quickly by another smashing sound and another cheer. Both cheers were followed by the screams of fear of the cab occupants guessing at the street retribution that would soon take place.

The mob members reached through the broken windows, unlocked the cab doors and dragged the offenders out. The offenders immediately went to their knees, hands held up in prayer and obviously pleading for their lives. Both were kicked in the back, then, kicked a few more times before the mob stopped and just stood over the offenders making them lay face down in the alley.

Three of the mob ran out of the alley and in less than a couple of minutes four men in police uniform arrived, gave the failed robbers a couple more kicks, and applied handcuffs. They were none too gentle dragging the offenders to their feet and out of the alley.

"Wow'" said T.A., "street justice with a bit of mercy and the law,"

"They would've killed them if the driver had been a local."

The street people had disappeared as quickly as they arrived. The only people T.A. could now see were the same ones that were surrounding the pot a few minutes before.

The taxi driver returned, looked at his car with disbelief and nodded his head from side to side. Every panel of the car had suffered damage. Every window was either cracked or broken.

He put both his hands behind his neck, swore some obscenities in his own language, threw up his hands and walked away.

When T.A. lay back on his bed he thought about the loyalty and camaraderie of these outcasts. Marivic, lying on her side, was already asleep, arm draped across his chest.

## \----------

As they were beginning their late breakfast/early lunch at 11:00 A.M., one of the receptionists came to their table.

"There's a large parcel and letter at reception for you. It arrived about 10:00 A.M.," she said. "You might like to collect it after you've eaten."

T.A. was curious. There was nothing he was expecting. Nobody from Sydney would be sending him anything, though some special friends had a bit of a guide as to his itinerary.

Marivic looked at him with a frown. T.A. grinned to himself. He felt she suspected the parcel might be from some woman friend of T.A's.

They finished the remainder of the meal quickly and in silence. T.A. dispensed with his coffee. He would have one in his room.

He called at reception for the package and was given a large square parcel wrapped in a large plastic bag bearing the Robinson's Department Store advertising. It was tape wrapped so tightly that T.A. decided to wait until he got to his room before opening it. The parcel was light.

"This came with the package sir."

The receptionist passed him an envelope simply addressed to 'T.A.'

Looking at the envelope he saw that it was neatly typed, though the tops of the capital letters showed a well worn use of the printer device.

Marivic had already grabbed the parcel and was squeezing it to try and identify what it might contain. They turned and walked away from reception toward the lift.

## **********

## CHAPTER 7

## THE PACKAGE

Marivic was as curious as she was suspicious of who the parcel was from, and what it might contain. She had begun displaying a little too much possessiveness for T.A.'s liking, and frequent signs of jealousy if he even glanced at another woman.

T.A. threw the large parcel onto the bed and began to open the envelope. Marivic began to tear at the tape like a child with Christmas presents. It briefly crossed his mind to tell her that the parcel was addressed to him, but decided against it. She was enjoying the surprise. By now, she was treating whatever was his, was hers.

The letter was on 'Robinson's Department Store' letterhead paper. He began to read it.

"Dear Sir,

We were dismayed to believe about the incident on the outside our store last evening.

The security that would normally be putting there attendance at the door had been called away to help stop stealing cash into a security van for the days takings.

Normally this does not happen and security will be sticking on all doors. But sickness said we could not provide our full security on all doors.

I was told that a small suitcase was badly hurt and damaged in the happening.

It is my hope that this suitcase will be a replacement suitable.

Please feel free to visit us again and to change the new case we have given you for another if it is not to your satisfaction.

Again I apologize for the absence of our assistance and am joyfully pleased to know that no personal injury was suffered.

We all hope you to keep all your remains for the rest of your trip and are very successful

Your's faithfully

Eduardo Eustacio

Manager"

T.A. nodded to himself at this extremely generous piece of public relations. The English may not have been good, though it seemed they had used spell-check, probably American. The message was perfectly clear. T.A. felt he definitely wanted to keep all his remains.

He looked at Marivic who had only just managed to tear part of the wrapping. She was not interested in the explanatory letter and was busy trying to fold the remains of the plastic back from around the case.

She oohed and aahed at the case before looking at T.A.

"Who gave you this one?' she demanded of him.

"Robinson's. To replace the one that was damaged."

"How do you know?"

T.A. waved the letter before he passed it to her. She merely read the letterhead and ignored the rest.

The replacement case was a far better quality and far more expensive than that which Marivic had bought.

"Can I have the new one?" she asked.

"Of course, it's yours. It was your case that was damaged."

He watched her open it out and go through all the pockets and zip up areas.

"I might give the old one to my Mum and keep the new one. I can get the old one fixed."

T.A. rang reception and they eventually put him through to Eduardo Eustacio at Robinson's.

The thank you; and conversation, went on much longer than T.A. felt comfortable with, but Eduardo Eustacio was milking the store's gift for all it was worth. Marivic remained oblivious to the fact T.A. was even on the phone. The new case had her total attention.

Within a couple of hours, a canvas craftsman had repaired the small cut in the old case so well it was almost unnoticeable. The bottom of the wooden bowl had been penetrated by the thrust, but another craftsman had filled that with some plastic substitute that T.A. could barely spot the original damage.

T.A. offered to deliver the bag and bowl to her family in Iligan. He reminded her that he would be there in about eight to ten days after going to Cagayan de Oro.

She pursed her lips and put on a sulking look

"My sisters are prettier than me. You might marry one of them instead."

'Whoa,' thought T.A. This was not the conversation he was expecting and definitely not wanting to become involved in.

"Hey, let's get to know each other over a bit longer time first."

"But why aren't you taking me to the Visayas with you."

"I have to meet some clients in Cagayan de Oro," he lied. "They are expecting me to be alone."

"I can hide when they see you."

"These clients are from the Church. If they thought I was doing something bad my boss would lose the contract. And I might lose my job."

The white lie was becoming more and more complex.

"Please Marivic. Don't make things difficult."

Her mouth had turned down, and she sat on the bed avoiding his gaze. Her eyes were darting around looking at non existent items on the floor. He was expecting a tantrum any moment. Thankfully it did not eventuate.

Her face suddenly lit up. "You can tell my family that you met me in the office here and you are doing work with the people I work for."

"Agreed. They would think it strange if your bosses let you travel away with people they were doing work with wouldn't they?"

"Then you'll come straight back to Manila?"

Oh my God, thought T.A. Once the lies start you are trapped into continuing them.

"No, I have to go on to Zamboanga I think. It will depend on what my boss says on the phone after I see the priests." More lies. He was going to spend some time snorkelling the reefs around Dakak.

"But that's all Muslim territory."

"I know, and they're not like what you've been taught in Catholic schools. I have read a lot about the history of Mindanao." At least here he was able to tell the truth. In fact he felt quite well read about various movements for the independence of Mindanao, and its long history.

"If you came with me, your parents would think it very strange, and you might be in danger. The Moros might attack you with a kris or kampilan."

She looked at him unsure if he was serious.

"Why don't you write a letter to your Mum, wrap up the parcel and the bowl, write the address in my notebook and I'll deliver it all for you."

She nodded in agreement, gathered the hotel stationery and began writing.

"You carry on with your letter. I'll see if reception has got some nice paper they can wrap your gift in; and some sticky tape of course."

She never even noticed him leave, or return a few minutes later with plain brown paper and sticky tape.

## \----------

The next four days passed too quickly for T.A., and thankfully, they passed without incidents.

On one of those days, T.A. was able to speak briefly to Nilo when Nilo called out to him from inside a packed jeepney paused at a red light, engine revving ready to jump across a lane.

"I hope I see you again T.A." Nilo called out. "I've got to go home to Cagayan de Oro for a while to see my family. It would be good if you saw my part of the Philippines. I have friends with bancas who could take you fishing. Another cousin works in a shop and he will give you a good price."

"I'm going to be in Cagayan de Oro in a few days too. Then I'll either go on to Camiguin Island or Dakak. Please leave a message for me at the VIP Hotel in Cagayan, letting me know where I can phone you. Please be my guide round Cagayan, I'll pay you."

"Yeah, that'd be good. You are my Kiwi cousin. I'll give you a very good rate. I'll tell my friends you're coming."

"Nilo, thanks for what you did at Robinson's. You are a true friend."

"Your lady will take good care of you in Manila."

The jeepney anticipated the green light by about three seconds and moved off. T.A. felt disappointed he could not show his appreciation to Nilo in a more tangible manner.

Together, T.A. and Marivic visited tourist spots, did more shopping, mostly without buying anything, and spent good times in bed.

Marivic would not let him go into any of the 'girlie bars' any more. She said 'someone would try and pick him up'. So the early parts of the evening were spent either listening to a bad three piece band in the Swagman, out dancing at a nightclub or singing at a karaoke bar.

Marivic was content to stay within the doors of the Swagman during the day or early evenings, watching cable television. It was always at his request that they went out. He did not want her to get bored with his company. Her gift to her Mother was already wrapped, letter completed, and safely stored in his bag. She wrote her home address for both Manila and Iligan in his address book, apologised for the lack of a phone at her parents place, and promised she would not go back to work at the 'girlie bar' while he was away. That worried T.A. He felt he was being trapped into providing for a dependant that he did not really want yet.

## \----------

### Linamon, West Mindanao.

Salim Hassan always hated travelling to and from Iligan; even more so since his wife's death. Any separation from his home and his daughters made him sense more acutely the permanent separation from a future from his beloved.

But this time the need for travel to Iligan was intricately linked to the part of his psyche that wanted to avenge her death.

He, at last, had what he was seeking. Yamada was in Cagayan de Oro, and Salim had a timetable of Yamada's expected itinerary over the next few days.

He would have to rush to call in the favours that had been promised him. Not all those who had promised help would be able to be where he would need them at the right time. His kin in Linamon would not be a problem. But the real muscle and weapons from his contacts within the Moro National Liberation Front (MNLF) would take time to arrive.

His plan would fail without their help. He knew they would have to be circumspect in assisting in a private feud. No matter what happened, the Government would all too quickly point the accusing finger at the MNLF as the perpetrators, whether they were involved or not. That would attract Government retaliation against any Muslim families, MNLF connected or not.

Though Salim was prepared to take that risk, many of the MNLF independence fighters were not. The only definite thing, on which he could rely, was the promise of automatic weapons.

## \----------

### Manila, Luzon.

Two nights before T.A. was about to leave on his trip south to Cagayan de Oro City, Marivic was providing him with another of the shower washes that he had come to enjoy so much. They had returned from the downstairs bar and dining room where they simply sat and listened to the considerably less than proficient local band for a while; then returned to their room about 9:00 p.m.

This time when she gently took his private parts in her hands she said.

"I hope you don't have any diseases. I've never had sex without a condom before you came along the other night."

"Oh, thank God," replied T.A. "I was going to wear one, but somehow we just seemed to get carried away. After that it was too late anyway. I was worried about you being a prostitute with Aids and all that stuff."

No sooner had he said the word prostitute that he realised he had erred badly in his off-the-cuff statement.

She stood up and looked at him with a hurt expression on her face. "I haven't got Aids or anything else. You might just think I'm only a prostitute but.....," she got out of the shower, grabbed a towel and began rapidly drying herself.

T.A. quickly followed her and saw that she was sobbing as she was drying herself. It had only taken seconds for her to dress.

"Oh Marivic. I'm truly very, very sorry. What I meant to say didn't come out the way I meant it to."

She just looked at him, the hurt still showing in her reddening eyes. He pulled her into him to try and give something back. He really knew he could never reverse the 'faux pas' he had made. While knowing what he said was true he wished he had never said it. His words had sprung out only as a relieved reaction to what she had said.

"Anyway," she said, "I have to go now and get back to work at the girlie bar." She had said that with more than a little vindictiveness in her voice. "And you haven't paid me yet."

T.A. felt totally deflated.

"I don't want you to go Marivic. I've only got two more nights in Manila, and I'd really love it if you could spend all that time with me."

She looked at T.A. and nodded her head in the negative as she quickly dressed.

"Maybe tonight you can go to another bar and find someone else who will be good for a couple more days. I thought you were different, but you're the same as all the others."

She packed her clothes purchases into her Robinson's replacement bag with amazing speed.

"Well, are you going to pay me?"

T.A. was torn. He wanted her to stay, but if she left now it might solve the later problems.

He pretended anger, grabbed his bum bag and under-shirt hideable wallet. Realising most of his money was in the hotel safety deposit boxes he pulled out all the cash he had. It was US$200.00, A$240.00 and about 2,000 Philippine Pesos.

Still pretending to be angry at her outburst, yet sorry their parting had come to this, he said, "I hope this is enough." He thrust the money at her and she pocketed it without even looking at how much it was.

The realisation of how he might really be feeling about her hit him.

She turned and walked out the door.

As he went to the door and stepped out to follow her, he realised he was still in the nude from the shower. He was thankful he turned back quickly; the spring loaded auto-locking door had almost closed behind him.

He sat on the bed and thought about whether or not he would hear her knocking on the door in a few minutes. She had forgotten the gift for her Mother that he had already packed in his backpack. So she had a genuine excuse to return.

By 2:00 A.M. he was still sitting, waiting. His mind had tested dozens of scenarios as to what he wanted. None fitted comfortably enough to be thought too far through. He switched off the light and tried to sleep. Dammit, he was missing that snug fitting little body next to his. He needed to feel her body next to him to help him sleep.

Any sound he heard outside his door made him immediately alert to listen for the faintest tap on the door.

By the time the kitchen had begun serving breakfast at 6:30 a.m. downstairs he still had not had managed any restful sleep. His body felt exhausted. He was wondering how he would manage to get to the departing flight to Cagayan at 6:30 A.M. the next morning. It was not the departure time that was so bad; he had to leave the hotel at about 5:00 A.M. to get to the airport.

Oh well, he thought, he would visit the bar tomorrow afternoon and collect her if she did not come back before then.

The everyday street noises outside had begun to steadily grow louder as the minutes into the new day passed. Sleep suddenly hit him immediately after he had silently cursed the sound of the ringing bell of a street food pedlar.

## **********

## CHAPTER 8

## MANILA TO CAGAYAN DE ORO CITY

### Ermita, MANILA.

When T.A. woke he checked the time. It was 2:50 P.M., the middle of the afternoon. He knew he had much to do to be ready to leave for Cagayan de Oro. His sleep in had cost him too much time.

His head ached and his neck was stiff. He had fallen asleep with three pillows under his head.

If his phone had rung he had not heard it. That was most unlikely as he would not sleep through that. Had there been anyone knocking at the door? There must have been as the room service people would have wanted to change the bed sheets. Then he remembered he still had the 'Do Not Disturb' sign on the door knob.

Even with that, room service normally still knocks, and if they do not get a response, they let themselves in. He had fallen asleep naked on top of the sheets. Oh well, if the room girl did enter, she might have managed a free look. So be it.

He dressed quickly, removed the sign from his door, and immediately he was downstairs asked if there were any messages for him. There were none.

He requested a wake up call for 4:00 A.M. the next morning and asked them to ensure there was a taxi available at 5:00 A.M. to take him to the domestic airport. As he drew some cash from his safety deposit box the receptionist made a note on a large whiteboard for the morning shift to call him.

He smelled the odours from the kitchen and felt very hungry. Waiting for his food order to arrive, he felt strange sitting here without Marivic. He was sure he could sense eyes watching him, and thought perhaps she was back in the Swagman, perhaps outside somewhere looking in. It would be like to her to watch to see if he had replaced her with another escort.

While eating his steak and chips meal he kept glancing up and looking around at the women in the room, then casting his eyes out the windows to seek out any female shapes. He could not shake the sense of being watched.

After eating, he would begin his packing in readiness for the early departure.

'Damn that woman,' he thought. 'Why am I annoyed that she had just walked away? O.K., maybe I'm partly to blame with those ill-chosen words. But surely she had been too sensitive about it. Was that it? She was a sensitive and caring little thing. Yes the sex was good, really good. But was that all?'

Changing his mind about packing, he caught a taxi to the bar where Marivic worked. Even though it was still early, just past 4:00 P.M., he would give it a shot anyway.

He walked in hopeful she was there but had not yet started work. He sat at the bar and ordered a calamansi. There were only seven other customers. Marivic was not among those already dancing. Perhaps she might come on when this group finished their 15-20 minute routine. He waited, and ordered another calamansi. Even the girl serving the drinks was different from the first time he visited.

The next group started and again Marivic was not among them.

He signalled to the drinks girl.

"Is Marivic working tonight?" he asked.

The bar girl just shrugged her shoulders in fashion he felt like taking as dumb insolence. He took two 20 peso notes out of his waist bag, covered them with his palm and slid them toward the drinks girl.

"Well then, is there some way you can find out for me?" He lifted his hand to show what was underneath.

She snatched the money from under his hand and pushed it into a pocket on the side of her short dress.

She turned to ask the other server and they chatted for a few moments. T.A. had not seen the other serving waitress before either.

"Nobody has seen her for several days. She has been looking after her sister who's been sick."

T.A. nodded an acknowledgment. So that was the excuse she had used to be with him.

"When's she meant to be coming back?"

The shrug was repeated. It annoyed T.A. He was not going to give any more money for this haughty attitude.

Two or three of the current dancers had begun to concentrate their activities on him. He briefly thought of taking one back to the hotel with him for a short time, but only briefly. He remembered he still had to pack. None of the girls he saw aroused any physical desires within him as Marivic had, so he felt he would probably be disappointed. It had been good with Marivic.

He returned to Swagman and looked around at the women seated at the tables. There was still no sign of her. At least this time he had no feeling of being watched.

Packing took him longer than he expected. It was not because he was slow; it was just that when he began repacking his backpack he would pause for a long time just looking at the careful brown paper wrapping around the present for Marivic's Mother.

Leaving out the clothes to wear for next day's trip, and his shower and shaving kit, he zipped up the backpack, and put it away.

He ran down the stairs deciding to give the 'girlie bar' one more try. As he passed through the drinkers and diners in Swagman again he felt strongly the sense of eyes watching him. He cast a quick eye around the females. No Marivic. He was imagining things. To avoid delays he took a cab. Yet, before he got into the cab he looked around again in hope.

This time when he entered the bar it was closer to 7:00 P.M. He sat at the bar for a longer time, nearly until 8:00 P.M. The bar was beginning to fill and becoming noisier. He asked the same questions again of the bar servers, again the same negative responses.

T.A. was wishing he had caught a taxi to the other address she had given him in Manila and tried to find if she was there. The available time was now too short. He would try to find her after his return to Manila.

Again when he returned to the hotel he looked around at the females. Definitely no sign of Marivic. But the feeling of being watched had not dissipated.

He verified with the check-in staff that they had not forgotten his wake up call. He ordered some toasted sandwiches from the waitress and asked them to be delivered to his room.

After the sandwiches were delivered, he stripped for his shower and wrapped his dirty clothes in a plastic bag. He stuffed the bag into his backpack. After the shower, shave and hair wash he put his shower kit into his backpack and padlocked it. As he slept 'sans' pyjamas, there was nothing else to pack.

It was 9:30 P.M. He felt if he was lucky he might snatch six hours sleep before the bedside telephone roused him to get ready for the airport. Any visitor would only be Marivic, and if he was that lucky, well he was already stripped for action. Maybe the time apart would give him time to reflect. She probably had dozens of suitors, or at least other lustful admirers as he was. T.A. was already beginning to think that he would find it too difficult to overlook her past.

He resisted the temptation to watch T.V. If he started watching something that interested him he would lose valuable sleeping time.

Switching off the lights he pulled the sheets up and tried to think about the diving in Dakak he had read about. But Marivic's face kept returning to his mind.

He had begun to drift in and out of sleep when he was sure he heard a faint tapping on his door. He sat up to listen. Perhaps it was just someone knocking on the door of the next room.

The gentle tapping started again. It was definitely his door. Marivic had come back to be with him on his last night. He turned on his light and sprang out of bed. He knew he had a smile on his face as wide as it could possibly be. That was good, she would be happy to see he was genuinely pleased she had come back. Pulling the door open as quickly as he possibly could, the smile quickly vanished from his face when he saw a solid looking man with a full beard at his door.

"Jesus Christ," he said, and moved back behind the door to cover his nudity.

"Good evening," said the bearded stranger. "I bet your friend Jesus was never as good looking as me. So it's a hell of way to greet your old friend."

T.A. looked closer at the face.

"Jesus, its ...."

The stranger quickly put his hand up to his own mouth to indicate silence.

He stood back from the door and let the stranger enter, then looked out into the corridor to check nobody was looking.

Closing the door quietly T.A. turned around.

"Feel free to put a towel around your waist, you look pretty bloody silly wearing just that grin," said the visitor. "And I wouldn't flash that little ding-a-ling around, the girl's would laugh at a little thing like that."

T.A. went to the bathroom and wrapped a towel around his waist.

"Jesus Pater its good to see you, everyone told me you were dead."

## \----------

### Linamon, West Mindanao.

Salim Hassan looked over the faces of those gathered in the upstairs lounge of his dilapidated two story dwelling. Most of the people were related by blood or marriage and all except for two were from his barrio. Those two were from the Moro National Liberation Front (MNLF). There was not sufficient seating for the 21 people gathered. Some stood while others sat on the floor.

"I have found out where that bastard Yamada will be staying, and where he is going over the next few days," said Salim.

Murmurs and nods of approval circulated the group.

"We pretty much know his complete timetable. If we can grab him and hide him, we'll make the bastard's company, or his family, pay millions to get him back."

More nods and murmurs followed the mention of money.

"They can afford to pay enough for his Grandfather's war crimes and for his Father's theft of our Moro land."

One of the listeners called out, "How?"

"A few days ago, you all promised you'd help. Now I'm calling you to honour your promises. There are still others, more of our brothers from the MNLF, to arrive and join us."

Those assembled looked around at each other and nodded approvals.

"This is what I want to do."

The small group listened attentively as Salim outlined his plan.

## \----------

### Ermita, METRO MANILA.

T.A. thrust out his hand, though he wanted to throw his arms around Pater.

"This is the way true friends greet." Pater put his arms around T.A., T.A. felt slightly self-conscious but reciprocated.

"I'm pleased your curtains are closed; don't want the neighbours to get the wrong idea."

Pater was as observant as ever thought T.A.

"Bloody hell Pater it really is good to see you."

"Don't get carried away on the strength of a quick cuddle. Nah, it's good to see you too."

As Pater relaxed into the lounge he looked at T.A. with frown.

"Have you lost your instincts?"

"Why? What makes you ask that?"

"You were too busy looking at all the girls in the restaurant downstairs to notice me."

"Ah, so it was you who was watching me. It's a long story. I was looking at the girls because I had a woman staying here with me for a few days and she stormed out last night. I had been half expecting, or rather hoping, she would come back. Maybe even feel a little bit jealous and keep an eye on what I was doing. I sensed someone was watching me but I thought it was her so I ....," T.A. tailed off at the sight of Pater's grin.

"So the senses are only half working. How's things been?"

"Boring," T.A. paused. "In the last few days only one knife fight and a taxi robbery and beating."

"You're still full of bullshit."

T.A. did not want to explain that he was in fact, and to a major extent, telling the truth.

"Hey, I really want to know what happened to you after we got separated on Apuao Grande."

"Now that is a long story."

"I did get that weird letter from Father O'Reilly, or whoever, when I was in the Manila Hospital. I sort of presumed it was from you, I guessed you couldn't say much."

"I didn't know if anyone else might read your correspondence. I am supposed to be dead, remember?"

"Then you bastard, only one brief letter from Singapore, signed by the same priest, in all those months, just to let me know the address of some bar to write to. I was really only guessing again that it was from you."

"Yeah, sorry. I couldn't tell you much in any letter. I perhaps do have a little explaining to do, and I know you kept your mouth shut before."

T.A. felt pleased that he had the respect of this man.

"Ben, the Apuao Grande manager who is here at the moment, said you had been asking him about me in very roundabout terms. Very cagily as though it was off-handed remarks. He said you weren't giving anything away."

T.A. simply nodded.

"Then he phoned me in 'Singers' and said you were here. I flew over to see you. So here I am. The new me. What do you think?"

"The beard and longer fairer hair certainly threw me. I think if I passed you in the street I wouldn't have recognised you."

"You didn't, twice."

T.A. frowned.

"I reckon youd've only looked at me if I'd been singing Po Kare Kare Ana."

T.A. grinned. "Please don't, your Maori pronunciation is piss poor."

"Anyway, I hear you're heading off to Cagayan and so forth in a few hours for a few days. I've got to get back to Singers tomorrow. Then, when I hear you're back, I'll come back. Keep aside a couple of days for me eh?"

"But what about you on Apuao Grande?"

"A serial story son. You get some sleep. I'll tell you more next time we meet."

Pater stood and shook T.A's hand.

As he was leaving T.A. called after him.

"And Mother, who was that masked man?"

Pater turned and grinned. "Still got your warped sense of humour I see. The Lone Ranger of course."

T.A. sat back on the bed and nodded his head side to side.

## \----------

The telephone ringing by his bed jarred him to sudden alertness. He had only just dozed off. So it seemed.

"Good morning sir, this is your wake up call as you requested. It is now 4:00 A.M. A member of staff will be up shortly with the toasted sandwiches you ordered."

"Yeah, fine," responded a sleepy T.A. "Make up my bill please."

"That's already been attended to and paid sir."

"What?" He wasn't sure he had heard correctly. "What did you say?"

"Your account has already been paid sir."

T.A. lay back on his pillows wanting to drop back into his sleep.

A gentle tap on the door saved him from that enjoyment. He wrapped the towel around his waist and this time, looking through the peephole, saw it was a staff member carrying a small plate with a towel covering its contents.

T.A. silently accepted the plate, nodded thanks, and tried to recall whether he had ordered these or not. His mind was too tired to think deeply.

One ham, cheese and tomato; one ham, cheese and pineapple; one silver jug of coffee and a hot calamansi juice. Could not have been better than any order he would have placed himself. He ate quickly so he could have a long spell in the shower. He hoped that might help him wake fully.

By 4:25 A.M. he was downstairs with his backpack. He asked again for his bill, again advised that it had been paid. It had to be Pater. Robinson's Department Store was not that big on public relations.

He cleared his safety deposit box and entered the waiting taxi. Now he only had to look forward to the unnecessary hassles at the domestic terminal and the probable delay of the flight.

He was not disappointed; the departure was delayed for an hour.

## **********

## CHAPTER 9

## THE VIP HOTEL

### corner Velez Avenue and Borja Street, Cagayan De Oro City, Mindanao.

Sitting in the back seat of the taxi on the way from the airport, T.A. decided rest and catching up on lost sleep might be the best plan for the first day. Then again he was willing to be flexible if something interesting came along.

He paid the taxi driver the pre-agreed fare price from the airport. The cooling effect of the air-conditioned taxi was lost immediately he alighted. Beads of sweat started on his forehead in the few seconds it took him to return the pack to his back and cross the footpath to the VIP Hotel doorway.

The Hotel entry had not changed since his last visit. The office to the left of the main door still conducted a business that he had never been able to figure out. It was always empty of customers and only rarely with an employee sitting behind the counter. On the right was the same travel agency as before, always with customers waiting to be served. The travel agents were always seemingly too busy to attend to the waiting customers.

In the centre of these two offices were the VIP Hotel double entry swing doors. There was no concierge on duty. T.A. turned and backed into one of the two doors, using his backpack to push the door open.

The cool air hit him again. Not quite as cold as the taxi, but appreciated nevertheless. As he stood and enjoyed it he glanced left and right. There was no-one seated at the thirty or so comfortable lounges, some organised into squares of conversation areas. Each of the squares of three or four lounges surrounded a coffee table. An occasional tall bushy pot plant separated some of the tables. T.A. was quite thankful for the absence of people. He felt dirty and dishevelled.

He had not made any reservation. Experience had taught him that it was unlikely any hotel in the Philippines would be fully booked. Usually a deal for a slightly cheaper room rate could be struck without a reduction in room quality. But the two rate room cost system operated by Philippine hotels angered him. Filipino's and balik-bayans were charged a much lower rate than 'Americanos'.

As he approached the reception desk beyond the lounges he looked into the dining area to his right. That too was deserted. Not even staff moving around feigning work, transferring crockery or cutlery from one cabinet to another.

Three people greeted him at reception and all smiled politely as he removed his backpack and placed it on the floor between his legs. Then unbuckling his waist-bag as some called it, or his bum-bag as he called it, he placed it on the counter. The Americans he had heard called it a fanny bag. He grinned as he thought 'if only the Americans knew what a fanny was in the Antipodes.' After advising the reception staff that he had stayed at VIP before, they gave him a reduced room rate and he began his check-in procedures.

Movement to his left attracted his attention to the glass entry door about five metres to the left of the reception desk. That door gave entry or exit to and from the side street. Even when the security guard was present they were always locked. A man stood outside the doors, taking advantage of the guard's absence. He was waving his arms to attract T.A's attention to the paintings he was trying to hawk. When the guard returned, T.A. knew the pedlar would be promptly moved on.

T.A. was extracting his passport from his bum-bag when an arm reached past and collected a room key from a receptionist who obviously had it ready. T.A. was surprised. He had not been aware of, or sensed anyone else around or coming toward the counter. He looked at the key-taker and saw he was both tall and very solidly built. Tall that is for an Asian. Then T.A. noticed the key taker had strong Japanese features. Even though he was wearing a Filipino barong, the bearing and manner did not fit with the character of a local born Japanese Filipino.

To the right of the reception counter, and standing at the entry hall to the lifts was another similarly dressed, also solidly built, and very strong Japanese features. He wore a large square leather pouch at his right hip on a belt under his barong. Probably his equivalent of a bum-bag thought T.A. Then as the key collecting Japanese walked away from the counter, T.A, noticed he too had a similar square pouch, but on his left hip. Both the bags were very square and larger than T.A's bum-bag. The thought that the bags might contain a pistol crossed T.A's mind. Certainly, outwardly, they did not look like pistol holsters but were over-sized as bum-bags.

A voice to the front of the two men came from the passageway leading to the lifts. Obviously a third man, out of sight of T.A., was waiting for his solid companions. The two moved quickly on hearing the voice.

T.A. organised a safety deposit box for his valuables, and was going to ask the receptionists about the origin of the guests. Then he decided against it. He just wanted to get into a shower and change out of his sweaty clothes. Maybe he might have a little snooze then come down for some lunch. If he slept too long he would just treat the meal as a late lunch. He had nothing planned for this day.

Remembering that he had told his Manila 'Rolex man', Nilo, to contact him at the hotel he asked, "Has anyone called to see if I have arrived or are there any messages. The message might be under the name of T.A."

The three receptionists talked among themselves for a few seconds before one of them went to a folder and drew out a VIP Hotel envelope.

"A gentleman delivered a note yesterday. We put it in an envelope because we didn't know who T.A. was."

"Thanks," said T.A., opening it and read Nilo's note welcoming him to Cagayan de Oro with the request to ring him as soon as he arrived. He would; but after a shower and sleep.

## \----------

### Cagayan de Oro, Mindanao.

For Ken Yamada it had been another frustrating day. The managers of the banks that seemingly could provide reasonable security guarantees for large safety deposit boxes were too inquisitive. He would never have been questioned about the nature of what he wanted to put in his boxes had he been in Tokyo. The managers here passed off the questions as simply a way of clarifying what his needs were so they could better see if the banks could provide the services he required.

In his travelled and educated world, a secured bank vault was where clients could keep secrets and valuables. Whatever was in the client's personal vault or safe, as long as it was paid for, was not information the bank needed to know.

He was born in the Philippines, he was a Filipino citizen and carried a Filipino passport. Legally he was Filipino. Despite the mix of blood in his veins, he still considered himself Japanese. His birth in the Philippines was much to the angst of his Japanese Father who wanted him born in Japan where he and his Filipino Mother were treated as residents. A Japanese birth would have enabled him to enjoy the political and social benefits a Japan born child can have. Not to mention the advantages of a "proper" Japanese passport.

Apart from three years in the USA, most of his education and early years until his mid-twenties were spent in Japan. Ken Yamada considered himself Japanese.

Even now as the chief executive officer of the family's business operation in the Philippines, he spent more time in Japan than he did in the Philippines. He had homes in Tokyo and Kanazawa in Japan; and Iligan, Mindanao, where he and his wife and family stayed when he need to spend time attending to the Philippine business.

If citizenship was measured as the highest reading of the blood line of a particular nation, then Ken Yamada was probably right in claiming to be Japanese. On his father's side, his grandfather, Colonel Toshio Yamada, was pure Japanese. But his grandmother's ancestry contained equal amounts of Filipino, Spanish, German and French, with both of the latter having very fair hair.

His Mother was a Filipina with strong Spanish blood lines and features, with a smattering of French blood as well. Even though she knew the advantages a Japan born baby would have, in a revengeful state of pique, she flew back to the Philippines just before his birth. Literally minutes before. Her waters had broken on the plane. The flight had brought on the birth. Normally women with such an advanced pregnancy would not have been allowed to fly, but his Mother had lied about the stage of the pregnancy

Though his Father was in fact half Japanese, his features combined the mix of all his ancestors and were really international. The fair haired European side of his family gave him hair much lighter than the obvious "give-a-way" straight black Asian hair. It was a brown with some curl in the hair he kept cut short. Even then, some of that influence of the dark hair could also have come from the Spanish part of the bloodline. His eyes were considerably lighter than either Filipinos' or Japanese, being almost hazel.

Ken Yamada knew that during his American education he had been asked if he was Brazilian or from many of the other Latin American countries. On his European holidays he was asked if he was Italian or Greek. He was always quick to respond that he was Japanese. He was not at all proud of the Filipino part of his heritage.

The only thing he felt he had in common with Filipinos' was that his Mother had insisted he become a Roman Catholic. He was, but certainly not a practising one.

Yet, here he was now, all his family earning their money from the Philippines but preferring to be in Japan. His wife was Filipina so she took every opportunity to return to the Philippines with him to be near her relations. Ken Yamada had no conflict in his mind about profiting from the Philippines natural resources, having married a Filipina, yet despising their way of life.

Even his Japanese friends and business acquaintances were not aware he was Philippines born. His family still maintained strong political influence in the Japanese Government, so his real birthplace was kept like a skeleton in the closet.

The family business was started in the Philippines by his Grandfather, Colonel Toshio Yamada, soon after the Second World War. It was a cover to provide a legitimate reason to spend a lot of time in the Philippines. His Grandfather needed time to locate the tons of buried treasure he had looted, then, hidden during the Japanese period of occupation.

Despite virtually neglecting the company he had created, the pineapple plantations flourished, the cannery grew and markets demanded more diversity in product. Soon his Grandfather was dragged into spending more time running the business than he was hunting the treasures he had buried during his tenure in the area as Colonel with the 35th Japanese Army. His son, Makoto Yamada then took over the running of the business while his ageing father spent weeks in the rain forest looking for marker pegs he had placed during the war.

When Ken Yamada was young, his Grandfather would tell the tales about the things he had found and accumulated during the war. Then, because of the American landings and the imminent withdrawal of Japanese forces, how he had to hurriedly bury all that he had accumulated. Only a few small valuable items were able to be taken with him in his kit. Because of the speed at which it all had to be done, his maps were not drawn with the pin point accuracy he had intended.

Some of the areas he had marked were vast with very little official accurate maps available. The treasure he had taken with him gave him considerable wealth, but he was not content when he knew there was many hundreds of times greater wealth just waiting for him to return and recover. But the rapid re-growth of rain forest areas meant relocation and recovery was not as easy as he expected. His marker pegs had been over-grown.

In an effort to ensure that he successfully covered all the areas in which he had buried treasure, he purchased large areas of land as an absentee, generally in dummy company names or with Filipino directors whose acquiescence could be bought.

Resentment; even feelings of hatred toward Japanese, after the war, was common. He had to delay his personal return to allow natural ageing and a few other aids to disguise his identity. He had not been popular with any of the locals during the time of occupation. If he had been recognised in 1953 on his return, his life would have been in danger from a revenge killing. Then all trace of the Spanish treasures he had recouped and re-hidden would be lost, unless some individual caches were accidentally uncovered. The rank of Colonel was never mentioned in his dealings.

Now Ken Yamada, the Grandson, was still seeking the remaining buried wealth. His Grandfather estimated that less than one fifth of the caches had been recovered. Some of those that had been found had yielded considerable wealth for his family. After circuitous routing, the treasures had found their way to Japan, then yielded funds now safely deposited in Japanese or other foreign banks.

The reason for Ken Yamada's current trip was the recent location of three large triangulated boulders, and marker pegs; a probable site for the discovery of the largest cache. He had not reported this to his Grandfather. His Grandfather had often mentioned that the area around the three rocks probably contained forty percent of the total treasure he had buried and would yield fortune enough for several lifetimes.

Ken Yamada needed to dispose of this treasure by different means and through a different route to any and all of the previous shipments, without his family knowing. He could not leave any trace of his discovering and transferring this latest fortune.

If he could successfully route this load through the port of Cagayan de Oro, then there would be little need to actively pursue the remaining forty percent, or whatever was left.

The fear of changes to Government land-holding laws had meant a more concentrated hunt in recent times, in case they lost land ownership rights.

It had only been because of the recent increase in Ken Yamada's search activity, re-exploring areas already searched, that long lost natural markers shown on one of his Grandfather's maps were discovered. Now he had to arrange to have the area around those rock markers cleared by as much as 400 metres in all directions around them.

The pressure for him to locate the wealth though was not driven by fears of changes in the Government laws. Yamada, without his families knowledge, had invested a high proportion of his family and companies finances heavily firstly in Thailand just before the Thai Baht drastically lost value in a market tumble affecting all of Asia.

Then, in an effort to recoup his losses, he transferred the capital he was able to save from Thailand's debacle into the Indonesian market. The Indonesian Rupiah then suffered an even worse fate, devalued during and after the Suharto overthrow.

His companies and family still had working capital available, but he knew he could not hide the worthless long term investments much longer. The company Finance Director, Daniello Seville, had been pushing Yamada hard for verification of the value of some of the overseas investments.

His Filipino side would have been stoic about the whole thing, if that side dominated his personality. But it did not. He had been raised to think as a Japanese. Therefore this prospective financial ruin would cause the loss of face not only for him, but his whole family.

If he could recover some of the treasure in secret, he could replace and recoup the fortune he had lost. That pious Daniello Seville might eventually uncover the problems Yamada was having. If he found the treasure quickly enough, no-one would know what had happened. That is, apart from himself and his long-serving loyal bodyguard, Ueda.

## **********

## CHAPTER 10

## SETTLING IN

### VIP Hotel

Exiting the lift at the third floor, the dull lighting in the hallway reinforced his memories. Nothing had been done to improve it. A storage room door was to the right opposite the two lift exits. T.A. paused to read the poorly illuminated room direction sign on the opposite wall.

T.A.'s room number was 308. The directional arrow pointed left for 302-310 and added 'guest lounge seating' in smaller letters under the arrow.

He turned left. The rented rooms were even-numbered and on the right of the hallway giving views over the rusting city rooves. A small guest seating area was on the left of the hallway. It sided on to a large shaft above the kitchen area with its windows supposed to give lighting to the internal area. Years of accumulated cooking residue almost totally blocked out any natural light. Day or night, even when the underpowered globes were switched on at night, the light was too dim for reading. During the day, the shaft was the only source of light for the entire hall area.

The other shallow rooms on the left seemed to be used for either staff accommodation or storage.

Perhaps the management was cost saving by not switching on lighting during daylight in the rarely used areas of the hotel.

T.A. saw one of the solid Japanese from the earlier encounter sitting in a comfortable lounge of the small seating area. He had obviously heard the lift doors open and was looking up when T.A. approached from the darker lift door area.

He quickly stood up, a startled expression on his face, and moved a few paces toward the hallway down which T.A. was going to his room. The Japanese stared down the hallway away from T.A's approach for a brief moment, then turned and looked at T.A. who was now into the lighter area of the hall.

The big man grinned, mixed with an expression that T.A. sensed was relief. The Japanese bowed his head. T.A. instinctively followed suit. The Japanese then returned to his lounge, the grin still on his face, and sat down.

T.A. remembered his visits to Japan and thought about how strange it was how quickly and instinctively he had adopted the habit of bowing in response when someone bowed at him.

After several attempts with the obviously over-used key, the door unlocked and opened. The key was probably a one size fits all he thought.

He closed the door behind him, pushed in the door locking button and slotted the flimsy security chain into the slide. Dropping his backpack, he looked around for the room air-conditioner switch. It was not hard to find, surrounded by a large handwritten note asking all hotel guests to 'please remember to switch off the air-conditioner when leaving the room.

T.A. did not bother to change the coolness setting, he just wanted to have a shower and catch up on some sleep. The combined effects of the early morning departure from Manila, the long traffic delays to get to the domestic airport, and the extended wait for the delayed departure to Cagayan de Oro City had caught up on him. Not to mention the previous nights enjoyment on seeing Pater, and the frustration at still not knowing what happened to Marivic.

The solid Japanese's strange reaction on seeing him passed through his mind. What was he doing sitting in the lounge by himself?

Those thoughts did not last for long. The soothing warmth of the shower relaxed him so much that he was asleep within seconds of lying down.

## \----------

### V.I.P. Hotel, Ken Yamada's room.

When the knock on the door occurred, Ken Yamada was not surprised, but his new bodyguard Iti, was, and jumped out of the chair in which he had been lounging. The knock had been in the correct sequence for safety, three, pause then two more. Iti knew it was correct but alertness was still the best precaution.

Thirty minutes previously, Yamada had received a phone call from one of his paid Muslim informers. The informer had advised him that he had important information in which he said Yamada would be very interested.

Yamada watched Iti's smooth unhurried walk to the door, and he unconsciously nodded approval as he watched Iti put his right hand behind his back and under the floppy barong he was wearing. He would have his hand around the grip of the silenced .22 pistol, just in case.

Iti had only been with him as a bodyguard for 12 weeks, but showed all the promise of being good at the job. The only disadvantage that Yamada felt he had was that Iti only spoke Japanese, not even a passing word of any of the Filipino languages. If Yamada was to keep him on, Iti would have to start learning Tagalog and Visayan very quickly. He disliked having to speak only in Japanese when talking to Iti. But the training school where Yamada had hired Iti was not a language school. It was one of the leading martial arts camps.

"Donatadesuka?" asked Iti as he got to the door and stood slightly to one side of it. Again, caution dominating his training, even though he knew who it should be.

"Ueda." came the response.

Iti looked through the peephole to confirm the fact and waited for Ueda to nod the correct response sequence in case Ueda had been forced to compromise the knock 'all clear' signal.

It was Ueda who had always insisted that one bodyguard should always be outside the room of any hotel in which Yamada stayed. Ueda was always serious about his job. It was Ueda who had watched the 'Americano' enter room 308 about an hour before. Then 30 minutes later, Iti had come out of the room to tell Ueda that Yamada was expecting the arrival of Oga Butu. He knew Butu from previous meetings.

Yamada's concern for protection had been insisted on by Ueda who had been with him for twelve years. Ueda, as well as his native Japanese, was a fluent speaker of English having lived and studied in England. Ueda was also proficient in Tagalog, Visayan and Ilocano, three of the Filipino languages that Yamada spoke. He also spoke a little Maranao, the language used by some in Iligan and Marawi.

Iti must have received the correct nod from Ueda. Without removing his hand from the pistol behind his back, Iti removed the chain and opened the door.

A thin Filipino had moved about two paces inside the door and was immediately held back by Iti, who frisked him for weapons, even though he knew Ueda would have already done so.

Yamada grinned at the disparity in size. The top of this Filipino's head barely reached the shoulders of his two body-guards. At one stage of the body search, Butu was completely hidden from sight behind Iti's bulk. No, he decided, bulk was a wrong way to think of it. Bulk conjured up thoughts of a slow, lumbering person. Neither Ueda, nor Iti, were slow or lumbering, just large well conditioned and muscled athletes.

Yamada himself was the same size as his bodyguards. His lesser trained skills in the martial arts only gave him a greater appreciation of the honed skills of his protectors. He stood to greet his guest.

"Welcome Oga Butu, come in and have a seat," he gestured toward the seat opposite his with a coffee table separating them.

The Muslim Filipino nervously looked back at the two large bodyguards he knew were watching him like cats ready to pounce on a mouse. He sat in the seat opposite Yamada, though still not feeling relaxed.

Yamada spoke in Japanese to his two bodyguards. Iti left the room to take up the outside position in the mini-lounge near the lift. Ueda remained.

Yamada looked at the skinny Filipino and wondered how long since the dirty jeans Butu was wearing, had been washed. The barong though was almost disconcertingly white.

"Well my friend, you said you have some very important information which I will pay you well for."

Yamada had chosen to speak in English as he generally tried to keep his fluency in understanding Filipino languages as one of his hidden assets.

"Yes," replied Butu still looking nervously at the form of Ueda standing barely two arms lengths to his right. "Something I overheard some jeepney and bus drivers talking about in Marawi two days ago. They were going to be part of it. A road-block, or something."

Yamada looked directly into the man's eyes to try and detect any deception. As with many Filipino's, the man would not maintain eye contact and looked all around where Yamada sat, only briefly re-establishing eye contact before looking away again.

"Go on."

"It is part of a plan to kidnap and kill you after asking for ransom."

## **********

## CHAPTER 11

## PLANS OF AVOIDANCE

### VIP Hotel

Yamada sat in stony silence as Butu elaborated. Though Yamada's eyes were focussed on Butu, he was not really seeing him. He was concentrating deeply on every word.

Butu had finished a full two minutes before Yamada realised there was silence. Butu had started to become fidgety in his seat.

Yamada flicked out of his apparent trance, and glanced at Ueda. Ueda raised his eyebrows and Yamada nodded a response.

Ueda stepped forward and paid Butu US$500 in five $100 denomination notes. Yamada was too concerned about what he had been told to notice the look of joy on Butu's face on receiving so much money.

Ueda indicated toward the door and Butu stood and was ushered out. When Ueda turned back, he saw his employer sitting back deeply on the seat, heels of his palms to his forehead and fingers run deeply into his hair.

Yamada closed his eyes, let out a long deep breath before gasping in again quickly.

"What can I do Ueda?"

"The safest thing would be to catch a plane to Manila today and fly out on the next plane to Tokyo," answered Ueda.

Though nodding his head in the negative Yamada answered "Yes."

There was a silent pause for a few seconds. Yamada knew he could confide in Ueda. Ueda was his only employee who knew his hidden agendas. Ueda had provided twelve years of loyal service, and maintained the fine balance and ability to never cross the line of respect between employer and employee. Yamada had often sought Ueda's advice.

Over the years, Ueda had been assigned many times to protect Yamada's wife and children with total honour and respect. Even to organise funds for his family when Yamada had overlooked some detail in planning. Ueda had limited access to Yamada's company finances, even greater than his Filipino Finance Director, Daniello Seville and the other company directors. That was often a point which Seville strongly objected to and was never backward in coming forward to denounce the arrangement.

Ueda had advised Yamada against the abortive Thai and Indonesian ventures, and never mentioned his advice again, either during or after the losses that were suffered.

"But we both know I can't leave at this time. At last I've found those rock markers and pegs for the biggest lot of treasure that my Grandfather buried. I've only got to have the area cleared, use the metal detectors and we'll locate it. Once we've got it, we'll use some locals that won't be missed to help dig it up. We can get rid of them so there'll be no witnesses. I just need some time."

Ueda stood silently watching and waiting for Yamada to continue.

"I just need time to get things organised. Once we've got that lot out, I don't care if I never come back to the Philippines again. I'd even be happy to give the company and all the land away. Let that bastard Seville then sort it all out."

Ueda was about to speak when his employer started again.

"I don't just need time; I need to be able to move around without looking over my shoulder. I can hide but I can't leave yet. I mean it's crazy. We know how and where it's going to happen. When is only to be set by the time I leave this hotel to go back to Marawi."

Ueda moved forward and Yamada pointed to the seat opposite him. Ueda sat and remained silent.

"We've always managed to elude other attempts. But this time it seems very well organised. I've made enemies among the cattle ranchers, the growers and goodness knows who else; but never any problems with the MNLF (Moro National Liberation Front). And yet with all my family's land, the factories, the plantations and wealth, kidnapping for ransom has always been a major threat."

Yamada exhaled deeply and nodded his head side to side.

"I know we could organise to shoot our way out of the ambush, I think, but this sounds a pretty large operation; well maybe. We could chop off the head if we knew who was organising it, but we don't. If they don't get me, they'll take my wife and children. It seems they're already being watched. If I try and get them to safety it would probably set off the plan earlier to take them. Ueda, what can I do?"

"Maybe the answer is already in the hotel," said Ueda.

Yamada looked up at Ueda. "What do you mean?"

Ueda related what had happened when he saw the 'Americano' in room 308 get out of the lift. How he had been stunned when he first saw him because he thought the 'Americano' was Yamada. That he had jumped out of his seat because he wondered how Yamada must have passed him unseen earlier to be coming back now from the lift. He only realised it was not Yamada by the clothing. The 'Americano' was the same build, same skin-tone, similar hair colour, and only small differences in facial features.

"Ueda, I'll check this 'Americano' out. Then, if I think what you are thinking, it could solve our problem. In the meantime we will keep this to ourselves."

## \----------

T.A. woke shivering. The cooling effect of the air-conditioner was too much. He slipped between the sheets and the only blanket, and tried to let himself drift back into sleep, but it eluded him. The only benefit being, that under the sheet and blankets, he had warmed himself.

He felt hungry and thirsty. He would pass up the steel jug of water sitting on the dressing table. It may have been sitting there for days, and he never risked the water anywhere; except on Apuao Grande. Though the hotel provided tea and coffee making facilities, he felt he needed a couple of cool glasses of calamansi juice.

He dressed in clean clothing, switched off the air-con, and left his room. As he moved past the small third floor guest lounge he looked for the Japanese he had seen earlier. The chairs were empty.

Downstairs, he exited the corridor from the lifts and entered the reception area with the large lobby.

Two of the three Japanese were facing him as he approached. One was the Japanese he had seen sitting in the third floor armchair, the other one facing him was dressed more formally with a tie and lightweight light blue suit. Both nodded at him politely acknowledging his look in their direction.

He noted that the well dressed suit man was not as Japanese looking as he expected. It was obvious there had been a strong mix of European blood in his ancestry somewhere. His hair was not the jet black expected of an Asian, but light brown.

Then it struck T.A. This man's facial features were not all that different from his own, but similar enough that they could be taken for brothers, in poor lighting.

He moved past them and into the restaurant.

As it was only 4:30 pm, it was too early for any evening dinner guests. The restaurant was virtually empty except for some staff making pretending to be busy.

He chose a two chair table against the wall, and nodded thanks as the waiter handed him the menu and asked him if he wanted a drink. The waiter seemed confused at his request for two glasses of cold calamansi. After blinking his eyelids a couple of times as if to confirm what he had heard, he moved away.

When the waiter returned with his drinks, T.A. placed his order for some Filipino beef dish that at least looked appealing from the accompanying description.

He emptied the first glass of calamansi with one long draw on the supplied straw and felt embarrassed at his loud slurp through the straw as the last of the liquid was consumed. He looked around wondering if anyone else had heard and saw that the Japanese had also seated themselves in the restaurant only about two tables away. When he saw both were looking at him, he felt embarrassed again about the slurping sound.

After finishing his meal, which was almost as good as good as it was described, he ordered coffee. He closed his eyes and turned his head in a series of circular motions to try and ease the ache he had just begun to feel in his neck. After he got back to his room he would phone Nilo.

He sensed the presence of somebody nearby. Expecting it to be the waiter with his coffee, he was surprised when he opened his eyes to see the light blue suited Japanese man.

"Neck problems?" the man asked in unaccented English.

"Yeah, hard pillow I think."

"My name is Ken Yamada. We don't see a lot of Europeans around here like they do in Manila, So, I asked reception where you were from. They told me that you are from Australia."

"Yes, but I was born in New Zealand, living in Auckland. I've recently been working occasionally in Sydney." T.A. looked at Yamada and despite the name and his pre-assumption by Yamada's association with the other Japanese, Yamada's features were strongly European. He looked more Europen than Japanese. T.A. remembered his manners and with palm open indicated to the opposite seat at his table.

"Dozo," said T.A trying to impress with his extremely limited Japanese.

"Arigato," replied Yamada accepting the offer.

"Do itashi mashita."

"Ah, so you speak Japanese?"

"Choto, No, not really. I just know a few words. Coffee?"

"Thank you."

T.A. caught the waiter's eye and mouthed the words which the waiter acknowledged.

"My family name is Japanese, my mother is Filipina with strong Spanish blood ties, and I am Filipino born. I have family here and in Japan."

"Lucky man," replied T.A. wondering what this Japanese-Filipino's angle was. His experience taught him it was rare to be approached by a Filipino unless they wanted either to sell something or to ask for money.

"I had been doing some research into possible markets in Australia to export some of my company products, and maybe do some investing as well," said Yamada.

"What do your companies make?"

"Mostly processing and canning of fruit. Also we do packets of dried fruit, like dried bananas, banana chips."

"Australia produces a lot of tropical fruit in North Queensland, so it's a competitive market," T.A. replied.

"Even if I can't export, I am lucky enough to be in a pretty good financial position," Yamada went on. "I want to invest overseas, in secure markets outside of Japan and the Philippines. Both Australia and New Zealand are good strong markets."

"Australia has a stronger and broader economy," advised T.A.

"I also want to visit both Australia and New Zealand for a holiday. I have always wanted to talk with someone who lived in one or the other. It seems you are the answer to both my wishes."

"It depends on how much detail you want. I can only give you a fairly shallow financial opinion."

T.A. felt a little warning light come on in his brain. He was not sure whether this Yamada's personality traits were Japanese or Filipino. Which society had the strongest influence? In his experience, it was rare for a Japanese to not expect a 'quid pro quo'. What was this guy's angle?

Yamada's voice interrupted T.A's thoughts.

"Oh it's not just the money I'd like you to tell me about. I really want to know what things I should see when I visit. I hear New Zealand is a beautiful country."

That touched T.A.'s feelings of pride in the land of his birth and he felt himself sit up more erect in his chair. He breathed in deeply.

"Well, that's different. I'm more familiar with the scenery than the finances." It was only a partial lie as his merchant bank employer required research into many different aspects of the economies of various countries, including their tourism.

## **********

## CHAPTER 12

## FITTED OUT

T.A. had finished his third cup of coffee before he realised that he had been dominating the conversation with his talk about the scenic beauty of his birth place.

"I'm sorry; I've been talking too much."

"Not at all. You've given me some good names and companies to contact. It makes me even more eager to visit New Zealand. But what are you going to do on your visit to Cagayan de Oro?"

"Mainly just to stay for a few days, then I'll go on to the beach at Dakak. I'll have a look around some pawn shops here for some jewellery, gold bracelets, gold neck chains, that sort of thing."

"You're talking to the right man here. I own three pawn shops. We always have a large supply of good jewellery. For you, I'll let you buy anything you want for the price I paid for it. It'll be a lot cheaper. It won't be costing me anything, I'll just be turning over stock quicker."

T.A.'s thoughts began to run wild as to what he might be able to buy.

"Gee, that sounds all right to me."

"And, right here in Cagayan, I own a tailor shop. Why not get a suit or two made while I'm here. Again you only have to buy the material, the tailors don't have much work to do at the moment so I'd rather them be doing some work for my friends. I have to pay them whether they're working or not. They make all my clothes."

T.A. looked again at the suit Yamada was wearing and was impressed.

"I'm available whenever it's convenient for you. So you tell me when," said T.A. wanting to ensure that Yamada was not all talk.

Yamada looked at his watch.

"The clothes, we can get you measured up right now if you like. Yes, right now would be ideal. It'll give them something to do for me overnight. They'll be ready for you tomorrow then. Is now too soon for you?"

T.A. was surprised at the immediacy. "No. Not at all. I'll have to get changed, you know, get some socks and things."

"I'll phone the shop to tell them we're coming. Meet you in the lobby in thirty minutes?" asked Yamada.

T.A. nodded. It seemed that maybe his luck might have changed for the better.

## \----------

It took T.A. less than five minutes to grab what he thought he might need. He stuffed it all a small hand carry bag.

He looked at the note from Nilo that he had picked up earlier and decided to give him a quick call before he left. He was quite surprised when Nilo answered and after a few pleasantries he told Nilo about the Japanese-Filipino he had met and the suit he was going to be measured up for in a few minutes.

"But why? You know you can't trust the Japanese," Nilo insisted.

"C'mon. Don't be racist," T.A. responded.

"The Japs have been ripping off Filipinos' for years."

"But this guy was born in the Philippines and his Mum is Filipino."

"Makes no difference. The bad side will always come through."

"Hell Nilo, more Filipinos have killed themselves on Japanese motor bikes than the Japs ever killed in the war."

"You are my friend. I just don't want you to trust this man."

"Don't worry. I'll be careful, I promise. I'll phone you later tomorrow."

"You better. My sister wants to meet you."

T.A. checked his watch. "Sorry Nilo, I've gotta go. I'll catch you tomorrow."

T.A. hung up and made his way downstairs.

Because he was five minutes early he was not surprised that Yamada was not in the lobby. One of the bodyguards was. T.A. was surprised to see the bodyguard get up and walk toward him.

"Good evening, my name is Ueda. Yamada-san apologises. He asked me to refer you to a note he left with the clerk at reception."

T.A. was surprised at the good English spoken by the solid Japanese. There was no confusion between his pronunciation of r's and l's as with most Japanese. He made his way to Reception and they handed him a note.

'I tried to phone your room but the line was engaged. Please forgive me but I had to leave to solve a small problem. Please accompany Ueda and I will meet you at the tailors. Regards; Ken Yamada.'

T.A. folded the note and put it in his back pocket. He felt a little uneasy.

"Who gave you this note?" he asked the hotel receptionist.

"Mr Yamada, sir. He used the phone to try and call you but apparently your phone was engaged," replied the receptionist.

Having confirmed the note was from who it was purported to be from, he turned to Ueda.

"O.K. McDuff, lead on."

"Ueda, sir."

"Shakespeare actually Ueda."

"MacBeth actually, sir."

T.A. felt dumbstruck at Ueda's reply and followed him meekly out of the small side door by the Reception desk and into a waiting taxi.

"Ueda, you amaze me. Where did you learn about Shakespeare?"

"The English I am sure stole the plot for MacBeth from Japan. After all, wasn't MacBeth only a pretender as a Shogun. McDuff was a real samurai. All of this is typically Japanese."

The journey had seemingly hardly begun when the taxi pulled into the curb in front of 'Ari's Tailors'. T.A. followed Ueda through the door and the uncertainties he felt seemed to disappear when he saw Yamada already there.

Within minutes, two Filipinos, he was sure were 'gay', had measured him for his suit. He had been measured in places he had never been measured before. One of the tailors seemingly taking an unbearably long time checking the inside leg measurement and frequently 'accidentally' brushing T.A.'s private parts while measuring.

Next, T.A. was shown dozens of bolts of material. He selected six before finally reducing his choice to two. A middle brown colour and a mid-blue. Then deciding it would be unlikely that an opportunity like this would arise again, he decided to have two suits made, each with spare trousers.

After being given the price, he wished he had ordered three.

Yamada nodded approval at T.A.'s selection of materials and colour.

"Tomorrow, after you collect your suits, we will check out my shops. I am sure you will find something, possibly several things, you will want to buy."

"Sounds pretty good to me. What time?" asked T.A.

Yamada turned to the tailor and spoke with him for two or three minutes. "He will deliver one suit to the hotel at 8:30 A.M. which he would like you to try on. To confirm fitting is to your satisfaction."

"That sounds good too."

"The little man does not speak English, but if you are happy about the fit, to make him happy, wear the suit when you come in to collect the other tomorrow. I know he'll appreciate the thought and treat it as an enormous and great compliment."

T.A. felt himself grinning.

"Also I'll send Ueda to your room about 9:15 A.M. I have early business to attend to, but Ueda will bring you back here in my own Nissan Patrol."

T.A. noticed Ueda had just left the room.

"You don't have to go to all this trouble."

"No bother for me. My driver would only be sitting around doing nothing, engine running to keep himself cool with the air-con running. Just be ready for a long day tomorrow."

"Look, I really do appreciate what you're doing."

"It really is my pleasure. Unfortunately though, I must now go and attend to some business. Ueda is organising a taxi outside to take you back to the hotel."

T.A. looked at his watch. It was already 9:00 p.m. The time had passed quickly. The tailors were already at the cutting table laying out the material he had selected.

"Just time for a late meal and perhaps an early night. I don't know how I will be able to repay you."

"I contacted some of those business names you have already given me in Sydney and various New Zealand cities early this morning. It has saved me hours of inquiries, so I feel I cannot do enough in return," replied Yamada.

Ueda re-entered and nodded at Yamada.

"It seems the taxi is here."

"Thanks a million once again."

"The pleasure is mine. I doubt I will see you at dinner this evening, I will be very late. Ueda and Iti will have to come with me. Because I have delayed you, I have arranged a supper to be delivered to your room. The hotel does allow me special meal privileges."

T.A. smiled and nodded as he followed Ueda out the door. Ueda opened the door for T.A.

"Enjoy the evening," said Ueda, with a broad smile on his face.

On the short ride back to the hotel, T.A. briefly thought about the smile on Ueda's face before cursing himself again for not ordering a third suit. Perhaps he might order another one tomorrow.

When he collected his key from reception, the clerk nodded courteously.

"Your room order will take about thirty minutes to prepare sir."

"Thanks. Can I have a wake up call at 8:00 A.M. please?"

"Certainly sir." The clerk reached below the counter and pulled out a book to make the entry. "Room 308 sir?"

"Yes thanks," T.A. nodded and walked to the lifts.

He barely had time to switch on the TV, when there was a gentle tap on his door.

"Gee, that was quick," T.A. called out through the door, then unchained and opened it.

## **********

## CHAPTER 13

## THE GIFT

### VIP Hotel, Cagayan de Oro.

Instead of a smiling waiter with a tray, T.A. was facing one of the prettiest women he had ever seen. Her black hair was in a page boy style around a face that was not fully Filipina, suggesting a strong trace of Chinese or Japanese in her ancestry. Her height was barely to T.A.'s shoulders. The jet black dress had single narrow straps over each shoulder and fell to a not too revealing V-cleavage around small but nicely proportioned breasts. She was carrying a bottle of wine and two glasses. A small black purse was under one arm.

"I'm sorry," said T.A., "I was expecting someone else."

His remark caused a surprised look on her face.

"No, no," T.A. went on. "I meant I thought it was the waiter with my food. I'm sorry, which room were you after?"

"Loom 308," she replied.

T.A. noticed the confusion between the l's and r's, but he knew what she meant.

"Yes, this is 308. But I'm the only one here. Who were you looking for?"

"Yamada San told me, see Mr T.A. Give him massage for stiff neck with bottle of wine with his compriments."

T.A. thought very briefly about Ueda's grin, then, he tried to think where the woman's accent was from.

"I'm sorry. Please come in."

The woman motioned her head to a large plastic shopping bag on the floor. It advertised 'Plaza Fair'.

"A gift from Yamada San," she said.

T.A. stood back and let her enter. As he stepped out to pick up the bag he made a quick embarrassed glance up and down the corridor. Thankfully it was empty. He then re-entered the room.

The woman had already set the glasses and wine on the table.

"You look at your plesent now," the woman said.

T.A. self-consciously set the bag down on the bed and opened the top. A thin tissue wrapping was on the top and he pulled that out before pulling out the garment beneath. It was dark blue. When he had pulled it fully out he realised it was a lightweight satin dressing robe.

"Rooks good," commented the visitor.

"And expensive," replied T.A.

"I lun a nice bath for you. Then you wear your plesent before I give you massage."

"Thanks. Oh, you haven't told me your name."

"Becky." With that she removed her shoes and moved toward the bathroom.

T.A. turned to watch Becky go. It was not so much moved, but more of a glide. Her black dress was just below the knees and her legs were a nice slim shape. Her buttocks were small and firm. T.A. thought they were just a nice handful. The waist was nicely in proportion to what seemed just right for her body size.

He quickly reassessed her height again. Maybe barefooted she was only tall enough to reach his armpit.

Within seconds, T.A. heard the bath-water begin to flow. He was unsure of whether to undress now or wait until the bath was run and undress in the bathroom where she could not see. He decided he would wait. Then he remembered his money pouch strapped over his stomach and under his pants. Quickly removing it he dropped it behind the bedside table. 'No sense in taking risks,' he thought.

After a few minutes, Becky came out of the bathroom.

"You not undlessed yet?"

"You're a bit bossy," said T.A., "but tonight I'm too tired to fight."

"Good."

Becky walked up and began to unbutton his shirt. He went to step back and changed his mind.

"Lemember, too tired to fight," she said looking up into T.A's eyes.

As T.A. looked down into her dark brown eyes he felt himself being totally drawn into them. He would submit fully.

"Ooh, nice and haily." she said.

After she removed his shirt then his trousers, she stroked his chest and the tops of his legs, running her fingers against the grain of his hair. With the shudder that it sent down his body, he did not have to look down to know he was already showing signs of excitement.

With his underwear still on, she led him into the bathroom. The bubbles from the hotel supplied bubble bath were higher than the edge of the bath.

She removed his underwear with care so as not to stretch his erection the wrong way.

T.A. tested the water temperature with his foot. It was perfect. He lowered himself into the bubbles and laid his head back on the end of the bath. Many of the bubbles flowed over the edge and onto the floor tiles.

Becky folded one of the spare towels and put it under his head as a pillow.

T.A. let out a deep breath as he let himself totally relax. He closed his eyes when Becky wiped the sweat drops from his forehead with the face flannel.

A loud knock on the door made him jump with shock.

"Damn. I'd forgotten about dinner being delivered." He started to get up and out of the bath.

"I can ret them in," said Becky.

T.A. thought about it. The hotel rules were prominently displayed in every room regarding the hotel policy about entertainment of women in the rooms by guests.

"No, I'll get it. You stay in the bathroom."

He wrapped a large towel around his waist, closed the bathroom door behind him, and opened the door to the hallway.

"Good evening sir," smiled the waiter balancing a large tray on the outspread fingers of his right hand. He passed T.A. and immediately set the tray on the table. He paused to receive a tip. T.A. remembered he had dropped his money behind the bedside table.

"Sorry," T.A. said. "I'm wet, and my money's in my case. I'll fix you up later."

The smile quickly faded from the waiter's face. "That's all right sir."

T.A. closed the door behind the waiter and reopened the bathroom door. Becky's head was barely visible above the bubbles. Her clothes were neatly folded on the top of the bathroom dresser.

She looked at him and smiled.

"I think tonight is going to be very good for me," said T.A.

"I will make it good for you," Becky replied.

## \----------

The phone by the bed rang loudly and T.A. sat up quickly. He looked around the room and tried to think where he was. His body was reluctantly awake but his consciousness did not want to follow suit.

He looked around the darkened room while the phone persisted in its demand for attention. Finally his brain kicked in as he remembered where he was. He picked up the phone.

"Yes?"

"This is reception sir with your 8:00 A.M. wake up call as you requested."

"O.K., thanks," and he hung up. His mind could not recall asking for a wake up call.

He remembered Becky and turned to look at other side of the bed. It was empty. Throwing his legs over the side of the bed he walked to the bathroom. Her clothes were gone.

He began to wonder if he had only dreamt her. Opening the blinds he saw the dark blue dressing gown, still untried, the empty wine bottle and glasses, and the eaten dinner.

He remembered Becky eating more of his dinner than he did. Almost as if she had not had a decent meal in days. Then her squeals as she ate all of the dessert. She did exist, and now she was gone. T.A. didn't even know where he could contact her.

Sitting back on the bed; the memories of the previous night came flooding into his mind. He started to wish Becky was still here. He thought briefly about asking Yamada how he could contact Becky, and thought that perhaps it might not be polite to do so.

He quickly showered and went downstairs for breakfast. He took his second cup of coffee into the lobby just before 8:45 a.m. He asked reception for his security box and removed cash sufficient for what he considered he might limit himself to spend on jewellery. He returned to his lobby seat and had barely finished his coffee when the non-English speaking Iti walked through the front door.

Iti spotted T,A., and walked towards him. He bowed and extended two arms on top of which was a large brown paper wrapped parcel.

"Dozo," said Iti.

"Arigato," replied T.A.

Iti bowed again, turned and walked out the way he had come.

T.A. headed straight back to his room and opened the parcel. It was the middle brown suit, and both pairs of trousers. He put on one of his two non-iron dress shirts, now slightly wrinkled, and the one and only tie. He was amazed at the perfect fit of both the trousers and the jacket. Recovering his money pouch from behind the bedside table, he fitted that under the suit trousers. No bulge could be seen even though he now had more money packed in it in readiness for his gold jewellery jaunt. He was still parading himself in front of the mirror when he heard the knock on the door.

T.A. opened it, not surprised at the presence of the expected visitor.

"Good morning," said Ueda smiling. "I hope you slept well."

"Very well thank you," replied T.A. deciding not to mention the previous night's events in case Ueda was not aware of what had been arranged, although that was unlikely.

"You look as well dressed as Yamada san," commented Ueda. "Perhaps this little gift from Yamada san will complete your wardrobe."

With that Ueda reached into his barong pocket and pulled out a small case which he opened revealing a pair of sunglasses. Ueda handed them to T.A.

"Hey, these are Raybans," said T.A., immediately putting them on. "Are they genuine?" T.A. immediately realised he should not have said that. "I'm sure they are; it's just that I've become too suspicious in Manila after being offered fake Rolex's."

Ueda nodded and turned to leave. T.A. followed.

As they passed reception one of the clerks called out, "thank you for staying at VIP sir."

T.A. wondered what that was for and followed Ueda out of the front door. Iti was standing at the backdoor of the Nissan Patrol parked immediately outside the front door to the hotel. The Nissan windows were so darkly tinted, T.A. could not see anyone inside.

Iti opened the door and let T.A. in, immediately followed by Ueda. Iti then made his way to the front of the Nissan and sat in the front to the right of the driver.

T.A. was surprised to see Yamada on the wide front facing back seat inside the Nissan. Yamada patted the seat to his right, which T.A. took. Ueda sat on the forward rear-facing seat opposite Yamada and T.A.. Then he slid into the centre of the seat.

"Good morning, I hope you had a good sleep," said Yamada. He spoke to the driver in Japanese who immediately pulled out into the traffic.

"Yes thank you very much." T.A. hoped the emphasis he had placed on the 'you' was not rude. He then noticed Yamada was dressed casually in barong and jeans.

"My arrangements for this morning fell through, so I took the opportunity to go for an early swim at the beach."

T.A. could not remember any good swimming beaches nearby.

"How does the suit fit? It looks very good on you."

"Perfectly."

"Excellent. I know I have a good tailor in my shop. Just as I thought, I can see the one you're wearing won't need any adjustment. I took the liberty of collecting the second one on the way here." Yamada picked up another parcel and handed it to T.A.

"Thank you very much."

"I have told the driver to take us to my pawn shops. So you can sit back and relax for a while. It will take us over an hour to get there."

T.A. must have looked surprised.

"It depends on the traffic. If we get a good run it will be less."

"Where are your shops?"

"Three are in Marawi, but I'm going to buy one or two in Iligan and Cagayan de Oro soon."

"I thought they were in Cagayan, I didn't know we'd have to go all the way to Marawi."

"Oh, I'm sorry; I thought I'd told you. But never mind, it's no bother, we'll be back by late afternoon. Besides, there are still many things I want to ask you about business in Australia and New Zealand. So we can pass the time easily."

T.A. was a little annoyed at this unexpected out of town trip. Though he was sure, after experiencing the bargain buy on the suits, he would not be disappointed with the pawn shops either.

## **********

## CHAPTER 14

## THE ROAD TO ILIGAN AND MARAWI

### Cagayan de Oro-Iligan Highway

T.A. simply wanted to get this unexpected trip over and done with. He felt he had been hijacked and he was annoyed that Yamada was presumptuous enough to think that the arrangements he made would automatically appeal to T.A..

Without being impolite, T.A. was a little abrupt in his responses to Yamada's conversation. But as time passed, to T.A's surprise, he began enjoying the drive. Yamada showed he had a sense of humour which T.A. appreciated and told several jokes which T.A. had not previously heard. Occasionally Yamada would become serious when he wanted to continue the business side of his proposed investments outside of the Philippines.

T.A. noticed Ueda and Iti had their oversized waist bags on their laps and that they were unzipped. Occasionally they would slip a hand inside the bag as if to reassure themselves that the contents were still inside. These actions seemed to confirm T.A's earlier suspicions that the bags contained pistols.

The driver of this left hand drive vehicles made no obvious attempt to conceal his weapon. A bracket below the dashboard near his right hand, held a holster. Though T.A. could not see the entire weapon, the pistol grip could be seen with a cursory glance.

Ueda and Iti seemed to be taking their job seriously. From T.A's view of the back of Iti's head, he appeared to be watching every group of people they approached.

Ueda, sitting in the backward facing seat, forward of where Yamada and T.A. sat, watched with concern if it seemed any following vehicle was gaining on them. None had.

"Ueda's English surprised me," said T.A.

"It surprises most people," replied Yamada. "He is modest about it, but he is a qualified metallurgist and chemist. He spent seven years in England including three years at Oxford. He is an Oxford blue in martial arts."

T.A. looked at Ueda for any response to Yamada's statement. Ueda continued the sweeping of his eyes towards anything they had passed, but a grin was on his face.

"They seem to take their job seriously."

"That's what I pay them for. It was Ueda who insisted on these seating arrangements. It's not just to make it a nice conversation area."

T.A. felt his eyebrows rise.

"No," Yamada went on. "The steel plate behind the back seat and between Ueda's seat and the driver's seat would stop most bullets. I thought the steel in the doors would pull the hinges out. But Mr Metallurgy there solved all those problems. The windows are also supposed to be bulletproof too. We haven't tested them though have we Ueda?"

"No sir," replied Ueda without taking his eyes off any activities outside the car.

T.A. felt himself frowning.

"Oh, I didn't mean to cause you any worry. In the twelve years Ueda has been with me, even all the years before that, nobody's even tapped on the window to ask for money. It's just that the possibility of kidnapping for ransom is a problem for the unprepared wealthy businessman. Fortunately I am wealthy. Also I'm well prepared, so nobody would even bother to try."

"I'm pleased to hear that," said T.A.

Yamada leant forward slightly and tapped a narrow toolbox fastened to the inside of the door, barely extending out from the door covering.

"This is what would really be used if there was trouble."

Yamada flicked a latch on the front of the toolbox and the front fell down revealing a small automatic weapon clipped on the lid that opened out. Clips on the sides of the toolbox held spare magazines.

"Great little weapon these. Mini Uzis the Israelis called them."

T.A had only seen them in Chuck Norris and Claude van Damme movies, never this close.

Yamada slipped out the magazine from the handle, pulled back the cocking handle on the top to allow the inserted round to eject, and handed the weapon to T.A.

He leaned over in front of T.A., undid the latch to a similar toolbox in the door panel on T.A's right to reveal another Uzi clipped similarly to the first. He repeated the actions of removing the magazine and ejecting the round 'up the spout'.

"I'll show you how it works."

T.A's mind flashed back to the M16's he handled on Apuao Grande. He wondered if anything different might have resulted if he had known more about how to operate the M16. That, he remembered, was to a great extent his own fault. If he had not been so self conscious, he would have asked Pater to show him how they operated. Alternatively, he could have taken the time to sit down and figure it out for himself.

It was not as though he was totally ignorant about weapons. He had owned a .177 slug rifle or Bebe gun in his early teens, then a .22 rifle in his late teens which he used for rabbit hunting. He had been in his High School shooting team. But what he was holding now and what he had in his possession on Apuao Grande were two very serious and far more lethal weapons than the toys of his youth.

He concentrated on what Yamada was showing him.

"These fire a 9mm round. The magazine holds 31 rounds or 32 if you have one up the spout. There are two safety features."

Whichever way Yamada turned his Uzi, T.A. mirrored the move to locate whatever Yamada was instructing him about.

"This three way switch on the left of the pistol grip is the mode selector. Forward is single shot, centre is safety, back is automatic. We keep this set in the centre."

T.A. nodded and flicked the switch through the modes several times.

"On the back of the pistol grip is the second safety feature. It's a safety pressure catch which is released using the thumb of the hand around the pistol grip."

T.A. again checked the action several times to try and familiarise himself.

"Now, holding it like this." Yamada stretched out his left arm and gripped the short flat stock on the barrel. "Cocking the handle at the top locks the breech block. Once the two safeties are released, it's all ready to fire."

T.A. mimicked the action.

"Gee its small isn't it," said T.A. not expecting a reply.

Yamada showed him how the shoulder stock folded back if it was wanted to be used. Then how the magazine was inserted and released including how to put 'one up the spout'.

"Well, do you reckon you could use one?"

"Maybe, but I hope I never have to find out."

Yamada's mobile phone rang. He spoke to the caller for a few minutes in one of the Filipino dialects. While he was talking, T.A. practiced the procedures with the Uzi.

Yamada finished talking and began speaking to Ueda in Japanese.

"I'm sorry for my rudeness by speaking in Japanese my friend. I just had a call from one of the suppliers who tells me he can't deliver fruit for a processing run we had planned in the next few days. I know he's holding out for a higher price. His fruit has been ready to ship for days. He thinks if he delays trucking it to my plant he can panic me into paying a higher price to keep the cannery in production."

"Hey, don't worry about me. You have to deal with your business. I'm happy to wait," said T.A.

"We'll still get you to Marawi and into my shops, it's just that I mightn't be able to get to the first shop with you."

"I'll fit into whatever plans you have to make."

"Thank's for understanding. I know what I can do."

Yamada pulled out a small pad from under his seat and began writing. Then he turned the page and seemed to write the same note again then a third time. He folded each of the three pages and wrote the name of a shop on the outside of each sheet.

Leaning forward, he called to Iti, then, he kneeled on the seat next to Ueda while he spoke.

"I have just told Iti that after Ueda and I get out, he is to take you to my shops and to give these notes I have written to each manager. That is to make sure you get whatever you buy at the price it cost me. No profit."

"How do I communicate with Iti?"

"I'm sorry. He can't speak English. My driver only speaks Visayan and Japanese, but they both know what I want them to do. I wish I could leave Ueda with you but I will need him with me."

T.A. wondered if he would still get as good a deal without Yamada with him in the shops.

"If we can settle our differences with this supplier quickly, I will follow along very shortly. Perhaps in time to get to the second shop."

"But, how will you get there?"

"Easy, this supplier has one of my other Nissan Patrols that he borrowed last week. I'll just get it back."

Yamada placed his Uzi back in the case recessed in the door and T.A. did likewise with his into the door on his side.

A few minutes later, the driver slowed and turned left into a narrow dirt road. The quality of the road surface dropped considerably. The size and number of potholes required the speed of the Nissan to slow to not much more than a running pace and the road began a gradual upward incline. Acre after acre of pineapple plantation bordered the road, interspersed with blocks of coconut trees. The occasional occupied nipa hut, the dwelling of the locals, bordered the edge of the road for the first couple of kilometres until a signpost warned all travellers that beyond the signpost was the private property of Paradise Plantations. No visitors without appointment.

The rough road continued its steady and gradual climb the further it moved away from the coast. After travelling for a further 15 minutes and another two kilometres uphill, a large area covered in road-metal appeared on the right of the road. In the centre and set 30 metres to the back of the open area was a large open sided storage area. To the left was a smaller covered vehicle shed, open only at the front. A small nipa hut nestled further back into tree-line to the right of the storage shed.

The driver turned into the gravel area. It made loud crushing noises under the tyres, even audible through the supposedly soundproofed Patrol. The Nissan pulled inside the storage shed.

"I'm sorry, I must get out here. The driver knows where to take you."

He shook T.A's hand and exited the Nissan, followed by Ueda who nodded at T.A. before he too got out.

The driver reversed out of the shed and took only twenty minutes for the return journey to the sealed highway. The boss was not in the car, so there was no concern for the passenger's bumpy ride.

## **********

## CHAPTER 15

## THE SNATCH

### Cagayan de Oro-Iligan-Marawi Highway

With the talkative Yamada and the silent watchful Ueda both gone, T.A. felt he could start to consolidate his own agenda as to what he wanted to do over the next few days. Yes, he did appreciate what Yamada was doing, but after this trip he would insist on independence.

Watching the oncoming traffic pass by on the 'wrong' side, he was sure he could never get used to driving on the right hand side of the road like this. He accepted that the Philippines had been occupied by the USA for a long time; therefore they would follow the road rules of their former colonial masters. Then he pondered why the 'Yanks' drove on the wrong side. That was surely only to prove that they were rebelling against their former masters, the British, and therefore throwing out any semblance of obedience to their former rulers. If that was the case, why hadn't the Filipinos' thrown out the 'Yankee' right-hand drive rule? Then they would drive on the left as any sane country should.

There were too many anomalies and inconsistencies in this country. Thinking about it did not alleviate his nerves at every honk of the horn to warn road-side pedestrians of the vehicles approach. The pedestrians still ignored the horn and continued to walk on the same part of the roads verge, even a metre or two into the road.

It amazed him that even under normal random chance, it would be a case of 50% of pedestrians walking facing the traffic. But not in the Philippines. Here it seemed that the vast majority had been schooled to walk with their backs to the traffic.

'Oh well,' thought T.A., 'if you are going to get hit by a vehicle, perhaps it's best not to see it coming.'

At least the road to Iligan was good in comparison to many he had travelled in the Philippines. It was a proper highway, even if there were no divider markings in the centre of the road. It was suitably slightly wider than two cars width.

Built several years before by Korean contractors who had not weakened under the demands for bribes and kickbacks, or buckled under threats of violence, the road was strengthened with the full mix expected of such construction. Consequently the road had stood up well to many years of heavy traffic with negligible wear.

But the pedestrians still used the outside metre as a footpath.

Then every hundred metres or so, a farmer would use a third or more of one lane to spread his rice for drying on an area up to twenty metres long. Drivers would dutifully swerve to the middle of the road to avoid the precious drying crop ignoring any oncoming traffic. If it was not rice, it was copra.

Of the livestock wandering on the road, the sheer size of any carabao meant they had to be avoided because they could cause considerable damage to a vehicle. Of the others, pigs and poultry were also given a wide berth. The reason for avoiding poultry was that there could be a prize fighting cock in the next brood. Dogs however were a different story. They took their chance ranked equally with or even behind any pile of leaves on the roadside. After all, the leaves might be hiding some small chick which might grow up to become a champion fighting cock.

Even though T.A. was thankful that he was in the back seat of this Nissan Patrol with its air-con and comfortable seats, he was even more thankful that neither the driver nor the body-guard could speak English. He was quite relaxed enjoying the silence. Neither of the other two had tried any form of communication with him. They had probably been on this road a thousand times, so were hardly likely to ask him for directions. T.A. had never been in the area. The 'boss' was specific as to where they were to take him.

As the density of housing increased, T.A. guessed they were nearing Iligan. A large signpost read Marawi with an arrow pointing left. T.A. presumed it must be a by-pass around Iligan.

The driver followed the arrow and soon after the turn-off, the road began a noticeable upward climb. At the same time it showed a reduction in the quality of its surface and width.

By the time another 30 minutes had passed, the housing became more scattered. The normally semi-cultivated plots near the road began to give way to the edges of the rain forest. The fringes of the road seemed almost deserted of pedestrian traffic. Bare of what T.A. had considered was normal.

Iti, in the right front seat, had begun to look more frequently left and right, and checked a mirror that T.A. had just noticed. The driver too appeared to be spending too much time peering into the areas of the rain forest that came closer to the road.

The driver's actions made T.A. feel uncomfortable. He wanted the driver to concentrate on the road.

Iti looked closely at two jeepneys parked one in front of the other on the right side of the road. Six or more Filipinos appeared to be working on the motor of the rear jeepney and another four leaned against the rear of the front jeepney. They all looked at the Nissan as it passed but would have been unable to see the occupants because of the dark tinting of the glass.

It seemed odd to T.A. There was no evidence of houses nearby from which the 'mechanics' could have come. He was reminded of Pater's teachings, 'trust your instincts'. He was trying. What were they telling him? He knew he had a sense that something was wrong. Iti seemed nervous, and the driver was touching the handle of his pistol. Perhaps it was only their apparent concerns that had triggered something in T.A. Perhaps the nervousness was contagious.

T.A. could see that fifty metres past the parked jeepneys the road appeared to veer to the left. The rain forest came close to the road on both sides.

The driver slowed only slightly before entering the corner. To T.A. the speed was too fast for what to him was a blind corner. He tried to reassure himself that the driver must have been over this same road many times, and he probably knew the road well enough to know what speed he could do.

The sudden application of the brakes threw T.A. forward off the seat and onto the rear facing seats before he fell back between the two set of seats. He cursed that even in a luxury vehicle the Filipinos would not install seat-belts.

As he dragged himself from between the seats, Iti and the driver were screaming at each other. The driver had dragged the heavy Nissan to a complete stop and was trying to reverse. Iti had extracted an Uzi from somewhere.

T.A. lifted his head to look out the front windscreen. The road appeared to be swarming with men carrying an assortment of weapons from machetes to machine guns. Behind the men were several vehicles drawn up and parked across the road.

The Nissan began to reverse rapidly. It had barely re-entered the corner when two jeepneys rammed into the rear. T.A. was flung flat on the back seat. He was temporarily unsighted to the events.

Several men had run to stand close to each side of the Nissan. Some with machetes stood behind others holding M16's. Each side, the M16's holders began firing at the Nissan's tyres.

The noise boomed inside the Nissan as though it was rolls of thunder claps without pause between them. The Nissan bounced down onto its rims as though released quickly from a jack or hoist.

With the tyres shot out, he knew they were not going anywhere. His heart began to pound. The questions were racing so fast in his mind another question would take its place before he could consider and answer the one before.

'When would they start shooting at the windows and doors?' He suddenly remembered that the vehicle was supposed to be bullet proof. 'Did these people know that?' he wondered. 'They must do!' he answered himself.

But what about the roof? If someone climbed up there could they shoot down through it?

He looked at Iti and the driver and wondered what they were doing. Their heads were twisting backwards and forwards at each direction of the threat. The driver was holding a pistol in one hand and a hand held radio transmitter in the other. From the frantic yelling in his voice he was obviously trying to make contact with someone, seemingly without success.

The reason, he realised, why Iti had not begun firing was obvious. If the glass was bullet-proof and he began shooting, the ricochets would spray inside the vehicle. That would do the job of the attackers without them ever having to get in.

Iti was alternately pointing an Uzi one way and then another, then to the front of the Nissan. T.A. remembered the Uzi's in the side panels. He quickly released the lock on one panel. Immediately it opened he jerked the Uzi out from its quick release bracket. Some of those outside holding machetes were climbing on the bonnet.

T.A. pushed the three way switch on the left of the pistol grip forward to get single shot. He did not feel he could control his nerves if he fired on fully automatic. Single shot would force him to not 'spray and pray'.

The driver had dropped his hand held r/t. He gunned the engine and tried to move forward on the flat tyres. As soon as the engine gunned some of the attackers at the side slid thick branches under the flattened tyres to act as chocks.

A couple of bumps forward and they were held. A jeepney to the front had drawn up to the front bumper of the Nissan. Even without the chocks they were now held fast. Some of the attackers had pushed their faces hard against the side window trying to see who and what was inside. T.A. was waving his Uzi at them. They did not pull back at his threat. He realised that they could not see what he was holding. If they could, instinct would have made them pull back.

The clunking sound of a swinging machete hitting on the front windscreen snapped T.A.'s head toward that threat. The glass was bullet proof. Was it machete proof too? The first blows appeared to be doing nothing.

A second, third then a fourth machete swinging attacker smashed the wicked looking blades at the screen. Scratch marks were beginning to appear.

For the first time, that T.A. had noticed anyway, Iti had turned around to look at him. When he saw T.A. looking at him, Iti pushed his palm down for him to shelter down between the two seats. T.A. nodded in the negative. He noticed Iti's eyes. They were not showing any fear, merely a look of grim determination.

Iti frowned at him and frantically pushed his palm down again. Again T.A. nodded in the negative. If he had to die he was not going to do so hiding in the back of a four wheel drive.

T.A. was unsure of what it was he was feeling. He was not afraid but he was not feeling brave either. He would shoot as many of these bastards as he could before they could get him. He had not thought about dying until Iti's frantic palm action. 'Dammit,' he thought, 'why did you do that?' He wondered what the pain would be like if a bullet tore into his body. If it did not kill him would he scream in pain. The memory of his head wound on Apuao Grande flashed into his mind. Though the pain from that wound did not really count because he was already on the verge of passing out and was beyond feeling pain.

Even when he was recovering consciousness all he could feel was the headaches and dizziness. But this was different. All his senses were alert and ready.

Small cracks were starting to appear in the front windscreen. Tiny slivers of glass were being chipped out. Iti seemed to be waiting for the right time to begin firing through the weakened glass. Too soon and he could be killed by his own ricochet.

Two of the M16 carrying attackers had obviously considered the same thing. They had moved to the front of the Nissan and stood slightly back and to the side. The weapons were raised and one pointed at the driver's side, the other at the front passenger's side.

T.A. wondered which of the weapons had the greater punching power, the M16 or the Uzi. He felt it had to be the M16. But if that was the case, the attackers would be shooting first. Then T.A. wondered when he should start shooting and where at. Iti was in front of him. If he was not careful, he might shoot Iti or the driver by accident if he sprayed his bullets over the seat in front. He double checked that he was still on single shot.

A large crack began to lengthen across the whole breadth of the front windscreen. The machete wielding attackers all stopped and seemed to examine their handiwork. As if satisfied, without haste, they all slid off the bonnet and moved back several metres.

T.A. glanced out the side windows and noticed those each side had also moved back a long way. The two M16 attackers watched their colleagues retreat. Iti once again turned toward T.A. and again gestured with his palm down. This time T.A. knew what was coming and had barely slipped between the seats when the bullets from the M16's began smashing into the weakened glass.

When small shards of glass began to fall on top of T.A. he knew that the windscreen would soon not be giving any protection.

The sudden smashing of a few rounds through the front windscreen into the back and side windows confirmed that the frontal protection was totally lost.

He glanced up but could not see Iti or the driver. Had they been hit already?

The question was answered quickly. He saw Iti's arm suddenly thrust up from the lying down position he must have taken on the front seat. The Uzi was in his right hand. The high rapid staccato sound of the Uzi on automatic confirmed Iti was firing back out through the windscreen.

A couple of screams outside the Nissan seemed to suggest that Iti's blind shooting had successfully found at least one target. The shooting from both outside and inside stopped. T.A. heard a metallic click and realised Iti was changing magazines. T.A. pushed his head up above the bullet proofed centre seat and pointed his Uzi at the front screen. Iti was still laying flat down on his back, inserting the new magazine. T.A. caught movement to the front left of the bonnet. He fired off three shots in rapid succession. The face that appeared had disappeared before he had even fired the first shot.

Iti had jumped in surprise at T.A.'s shots and had pointed his Uzi at T.A. temporarily until he realised what was going on. Another face appeared to the right of the bonnet. Again T.A. fired three rapid shots. Again he knew he was too late.

He glanced down at the driver also lying back down on the front seat. He was not moving. His eyes were open and staring at the roof of the Nissan. T.A. realised that the stare was not seeing anything. There were several deep red holes in the driver's chest and part of the side of his face was missing.

Several faces appeared behind the jeepney that was blocking their forward movement. This time T.A. did not count the number of time he pulled the trigger. The targets were less than ten metres to his front. It was too late to switch to auto. He wished he had, he might have got one or two, but they were all too quick and had ducked their heads.

The barrels of some M16's appeared over the top of the jeepney, pointing skyward. T.A. thrust his thumb forward on the left of the grip and felt for the small lever. He pulled it fully back. His Uzi was now on auto.

The M16 barrels began to point toward the front of the Nissan, but as yet no faces had appeared. T.A. realised what they were going to do, the same as Iti had done, 'spray and pray'. He pointed his Uzi in the direction of the M16 barrels and squeezed the trigger.

He was surprised that the Uzi had not jumped out of his hands and he managed to easily keep his shooting in the direction he was aiming.

His Uzi stopped shooting. The last round had not come out and had made a different sound at the finish. He dropped back down between the seats to check if he could clear the jam, then realised that he had emptied the magazine. Grabbing the quick release catch he ejected the spent magazine and grabbed a full one from the door panel and inserted it. As he pulled the cocking handle back, rounds from the M16's began to enter through where the front windscreen had been.

Thoughts of ricochets inside the vehicle briefly flashed back into his mind. It did not seem to be happening.

He saw Iti's arm go up again from his lying down position pointing his Uzi in the direction of the incoming fire. Then he held his finger on the trigger until the magazine emptied. For a few seconds there was a noticeable diminution in the amount of incoming fire.

Then suddenly all incoming fire stopped. T.A. again peered over the middle seat. There were still no faces visible. T.A, knew there had to be a reason for the fire to suddenly stop. What was it?

A shadow passed by the right side of the vehicle. Two people were trying to sneak along the side of the vehicle, For some reason they must have thought that because they could not see inside the vehicle its occupants could not see out. T.A. was tempted to try and shoot at them through the glass, then realised he could not. He knew he had to wait until he could get a clear shot at them through the right front as they stuck their barrels in to shoot.

Iti had apparently seen them too. His right arm was moving up, Uzi clasped strongly in his hands. T.A. knew that he would have to be careful not to shoot Iti's arm. A barrel appeared through the left side of the screen. Iti had not seen those that had sneaked up on the left. T.A. switched his aim and fired. Some of his shots were ricocheting off the driver's left window.

The muzzle of the M16 did not waiver. T.A. saw the flame shoot out from the barrel into the prone body of Iti still waiting on the danger from the right. T.A. saw Iti's arm drop down. He had to presume Iti was hit. T.A's magazine was now empty after his firing at the left of the windscreen.

He dropped back down again between the seats.

"Shit", screamed T.A.

He released the empty magazine and grabbed another. The shooting from the front had stopped. He quickly inserted the new magazine and pulled the cocking handle back. It would not lock into place. He ejected the magazine quickly and reinserted it. Again, when he pulled the cocking handle back it would not lock.

"Fuck, Fuck Fuck," he called out in frustration.

The only positive thing he could feel at the moment was that the shooting had stopped.

He took a couple of quick deep breaths to try and control his panic while he figured out what was wrong. He wondered why he did not want to die here. Would there be anybody at home in Australia or New Zealand who would miss him. 'Not likely,' he thought.

He tried to remember how long ago he made his last will and testament. He had been meaning to update it. But if he did, would he have made any changes?

He tried again to reinsert the magazine. Still, the cocking handle would not lock. He was amazed that the attackers had not tried to force their way in through the front windscreen. While he was on the floor between the two seats, he was surrounded by the bullet-proof steel. But now he had a weapon that would not work. If only he knew what he had done wrong. 'Had he done something wrong?' T.A. tried to think about what he was doing differently from what he had done before.

T.A. heard a sound and looked up from his position below and between the seats. The muzzle of a weapon was pointing down at him from over the front seat.

He let out all the air that was in his lungs, looked at the roof of the Nissan, closed his eyes and let his head drop forward, chin touching his chest. His will to fight had gone with the jamming of the Uzi.

He kept his eyes shut tight. He did not want to know when the trigger was being squeezed or to see the face of the shooter. 'Would it be painful?' He remembered he had already asked himself that. 'If the bullets went through the brain, does that kill the brain and not the body? Would parts of the brain still feel the pain? It was the brain that received the messages from other parts of the body? Why hadn't the attacker shot?'

T.A. heard the side doors open. Within seconds the Uzi he was still holding was wrenched from his hands. He made no attempt to keep holding it. He kept his eyes shut and his head bowed.

Hands grabbed his ankles and began dragging him out of the right passenger door. He let them take him and made no sound as his back scraped over the raised footing of the door section. When his head hit the ground outside the Nissan he let out a moan.

Hands secured a better grip around his ankles and dragged him another few metres away from the car. Still he kept his eyes closed.

When those dragging him stopped, they let his ankles go. His legs were so relaxed he hurt his heels when they thumped heavily onto the ground. He was afraid to open his eyes. The voices around him were screaming in words that he could not understand.

'Perhaps they thought he was dead, or at least unconscious,' he thought.

He was unprepared for the kick into his ribs and knew he did not suppress the 'Aaah,' that he screamed out.

They would know now he was neither dead nor unconscious. He opened his eyes.

"Yawa," screamed a nearby voice. He turned to see who it was. Another kick smashed into his ribs and he rolled over in an attempt to protect his injured side from further blows.

He realised his error immediately. The screaming assailant jumped on his back using the full force of his knees and with each following punch into T.A.'s kidneys, spine or anywhere he screamed, "Yawa."

The assailant grabbed T.A. by the hair and pulled his head back. His neck bent so far T.A. felt the bones crack. The grip twisted his head and T.A. was forced to roll onto his back. Two hands grabbed the side of his head and made him sit up, which was almost as painful to his ribs as the kicks had been. The screaming assailant began punching his face with the fury of a madman.

T.A. was struggling to get air into his lungs by trying to breathe deeply. But each intake caused him pain in his right side as though he was being stabbed. He hoped it was only broken ribs and they were not sticking into his lungs.

He looked across at the Nissan a few metres away as he tried to fight through his pain for enough breath. The body of the driver had been pulled out and was face down, blood still seeping out of his chest wounds. Iti's body was propped up against the closed door as though seated and using the door as a backrest.

T.A. thought he was imagining it. Did he see Iti move? He had. Iti was slowly moving his head and slowly moving his arms as though trying to get to a position to support himself before standing.

A machete wielding attacker stood each side of Iti. The front of Iti's barong showed more red than white as the blood from his wounds kept flowing out.

T.A.'s attacker stomped over to where Iti was seated and grabbed a machete off one of Iti's two guards. T.A. was not sure if Iti's eyes were registering anything but they seemed to be looking in his direction without reflecting any consciousness of what was happening.

"Hapona," screamed T.A.'s attacker. T.A. looked up at the skinny little man who had attacked him. The hate that the man's eyes shot back at him sent a horrible chill through T.A. The small man seemed to float in a circle, and too late, T.A. realised what was coming. The centre of his nose and face took the full force of the man's heel in his round-house kick. He was sure he could hear the bones break.

He watched the little man walk toward Iti and raise his machete.

"Yawa," he screamed again and swung the machete down with all his might. The blow hit Iti on the arm that had been trying to pull the body up from the ground. The forward part of the arm fell away and the remaining stump began to flay in different directions. T.A. saw Iti open his mouth to scream but only heard a gurgling sound and saw the blood run from Iti's mouth.

T.A. felt the air in his lungs was not enough to stop him passing out and he blinked his eyes to try and focus his concentration.

The eyes of his attacker focused their glare of hatred on him again.

"No!" T.A. felt himself scream. He was sure he knew what was coming.

The attacker raised the blade again and screamed "Yawa," as he brought the blade down again, this time on Iti's remaining arm. Iti's totally unsupported torso slipped sideways, blood spurting out from both arm stumps.

"Nadekpan ka na gyud yawa kang Hapona ka," screamed the attacker and swung the machete at Iti's head. T.A. looked away for a second and when he looked up, the attacker was striding toward him. He could see the body of Iti jerking in its death-throws behind the advancing figure.

"Nadekpan ka na gyud yawa kang Hapona ka," screamed the attacker again.

T.A's mind raced. He wondered if he would die bravely without begging for his life. Why didn't they just shoot him.

The attacker swung the machete to one side of T.A's head. 'At least he would not see the blade coming at him,' he thought. He shut his eyes just before the sudden extra pain took all thought out of his brain and he lost consciousness.

## **********

## CHAPTER 16

## EXPEDIENCY NOT REMORSE

### Sunshine Plantation, East of Iligan, Mindanao - Day 1

Yamada listened, without showing any concern, to the screams for help from the driver and Iti over the r/t. He knew that would mean the kidnap or killing, had begun, possibly towards a terrible conclusion.

He also watched Ueda's reaction during the call. It was not the stoic look he had expected it to be. Ueda seemed to be showing remorse.

"We could not tell them we knew what was going to happen," said Yamada.

Ueda bowed his head.

"If we had, they might have been too prepared and managed to fight their way out. Then all of our planning would have achieved nothing," Yamada went on.

Ueda still sat silent.

"I'm sure Iti died like the samurai he was."

Yamada saw Ueda's eyes flick briefly up to meet his. He was unsure of what the message in that glance meant.

"I am curious as to how the gaishin faced his death. I guess we will never know. My thought is that he might have died with some bravery. It was his greed that made him such an easy pigeon for us to set up."

Again he saw Ueda look up at him and he felt that the glance confirmed his suspicion. Ueda was not in full agreement with what had happened. Perhaps in the longer time frame he might have to relieve Ueda of his position. Though he knew Ueda could be trusted to keep the secret of Yamada's failed foreign investments, Yamada still felt shame for what he knew that Ueda knew. For now though, he needed Ueda to do things for him that he could not personally front up for without revealing he was still free. He could still pull the strings.

## \----------

### Near Linamon, west of Iligan, Mindanao - Day 1

Salim Hassan was angry with himself. He had intended to make this Japanese bastard Yamada feel every blow and pain that he could inflict. His hitting the Japanese face with the side of the machete had been harder than he intended. He had not intended to make the Japanese lose consciousness. His follow up action of then kicking the unconscious Japanese in the face had probably exacerbated the situation and delayed the return to consciousness.

He knew it was only his frustration that had made him do it. That frustration and his anger had cheated him of some immediate pleasure in torturing the Japanese. Now he would have to wait until the Japanese recovered consciousness.

Whatever happened later, the Japanese would have some permanent marks on his face to remember this beating. And the bastard's face was so puffed up that even his own Mother would not recognise him.

He signalled to his helpers to disperse. He had not expected any problem from the local police or local people. It was a patch well and truly controlled by the Muslims and the MNLF. But the military might have been different. It would have depended on who the commanding officer was.

Most of his helpers had departed in their jeepney transports. They pulled out immediately after picking up their three wounded comrades, and gone before Salim and his three cousins had dumped the heavy unconscious Japanese between the back seats of the jeepney. The inert figure was tied up before being covered with some fishing nets.

Salim sat in the back of the jeepney, his feet on the fishing nets. As they pulled away he looked back at the scene they had created.

Apart from the smashed front windscreen and flat tyres, the Nissan, from a distance, the outside looked remarkably undamaged. The body of the driver and the armless corpse of the one bodyguard had been propped up in sitting positions against the side of the Nissan. They would be spotted soon enough.

He had been told by his informant in Cagayan de Oro that Yamada had both of his bodyguards with him when they left. There must have been some change of plan. But he had got the flashy suited Japanese bastard he had wanted. Now this Japanese would pay for the crimes of three generations. When they had paid the ransom he would kill this pig for what his personal factory police had done to his wife.

He had many things to think about on the drive back to his ramshackle two story home by the seashore near to Linamon, west of Iligan.

## \----------

### Cagayan de Oro City - Day 1

Nilo had been expecting T.A. to call the night before as he had promised. He had waited until just before he thought the early diners would be moving into the restaurant, then, he telephoned the VIP Hotel.

The switch board had transferred his call direct to T.A.'s room. Though he held on, eventually the call rang back to Reception. He explained that he had not received any reply. They advised T.A. had not left the Hotel because he had not handed in his room key. Though, of course, he may have forgotten and accidentally taken it with him.

Nilo offered to hold on while they checked the dining room. He was feeling a little hurt that T.A. seemed to have found something else to do without including him in his plans.

Besides that, he had boasted to his family that he had made an 'Americano' friend in Manila and that his friend was coming all the way down to Cagayan de Oro from Manila just to visit him. He had promised his sister that he had arranged for T.A. to meet her because he said he was looking for a Filipino wife.

She had been in an excited dither ever since she had heard that T.A. had arrived at the VIP Hotel and she was waiting in shy but excited eagerness to meet him.

"Reception here," they interrupted Nilo's daydream that he had slipped into while waiting for their information.

"Sorry to keep you holding on so long. Your party was not in the Dining Room and they had not seen him all day. Apparently a light breakfast was delivered to his room this morning. Then we contacted Housekeeping. They said he was not in his room when they changed the bedding around 11:00 a.m. The morning Reception staff did not see him leave and he hasn't handed his key in. Sorry, we don't know where he is."

Nilo left his contact details with the Reception staff for when T.A. returned and tried to think of how he would explain this change in his plans to his sister.

Meanwhile he would wait at home tonight and hope he would hear from T.A.

## \----------

### Near Linamon, west of Iligan, Mindanao - Day 1

The afternoon had come and was almost gone. With the help of his relations, Salim had dragged the heavy unconscious Japanese up the squeaking staircase, and leg- chained him to the ready prepared U-bolts he had fixed to the floor of the bedroom.

With the laboured breathing and obvious broken nose of the Japanese, Salim decided not to tape the mouth. It might cause the Hapona to suffocate. He wanted to make sure he got his money before this Japanese died.

Another cousin had departed for Cagayan de Oro on the missions Salim had set for him.

## \----------

### Cagayan de Oro City - Day 1

The cousin Salim had sent to Cagayan de Oro was surprised that the door at his first destination was closed and apparently locked. This was the local administration and shipping office of the Paradise Plantations Fruit and Canning Company. Because it was locked it meant he did not have to be so covert in delivery of the message.

He slipped the first note through the crack between the closed door and the door frame before disappearing into the crowd. Then he went to the second destination.

He stood outside the newspaper office which seemed to be a hive of activity with people coming and going. He looked around for an unaccompanied child around ten years old. He eventually approached what he thought was a suitable child and offered him 20 pesos to deliver a second, and identical note, into the newspaper office.

The child willingly accepted the well paid task and ran across the road avoiding the cars with the skill of a veteran.

Immediately the youngster made off to deliver the message, the payer quickly shifted his position on the street and watched from his new vantage point to ensure the child entered the newspaper office. As expected, he had to wait for a few minutes for the child to leave. Also as expected, someone from the newspaper ran outside the office with the child. He had obviously asked the child to point to the man who had given him the note.

The child looked around and could not see the generous man. The newspaper executive then grabbed the child by the arm and pulled him back inside with him.

The messenger knew there would be an early reaction from the newspapers about what had happened. Tomorrow's papers, locally at least, would be announcing the kidnapping of a wealthy Japanese industrialist and landowner. He did not know how long it would be before the canning factory reacted.

## \----------

### Iligan-Marawi Road, North Mindanao - Day 1

The Army captain had inspected the scene yet had no definite clues pointing to who had done this act. He would collect the evidence that he could, and would let his senior officer, the major; decide on what to do about it.

The police would be given a copy of his report. But until the captain decided whether this was a political or criminal action he would not know if he would be involved in any follow up.

He organised for the two bodies and the severed arms to be bagged, and some of the spent shells to be taken away for testing.

He thought it odd that the vehicle had not been stripped. Apart from the useless tyres, shattered windscreen and some bullet and blood damage to the upholstery, the condition of the vehicle was good. Even the number plates were still on the vehicle. That would help identify the victims who appeared to be Japanese tourists.

He wondered though at the large amount of 9mm shells inside the vehicle. It seemed that the occupants must have been armed, but if so, why, and where would they have got their weapons. There were none left at the scene

Yes, he would leave the major to create a story to fit this incident. Meanwhile the captain organised the towing of the Nissan back to his base. There, they could take out any parts they felt could be sold.

## \----------

### Near Linamon, west of Iligan - Day 1

Salim was annoyed that the Japanese was still unconscious. It was just after sunset and he had hoped to get the Japanese to sign something on the first day as further evidence of his being held.

Salim's two daughters, Siti aged 16 and Zahra 14, stood silently at the curtained doorway looking at the unmoving chained figure on their floor ever since Salim had dumped it there.

He had told them weeks before what he had intended to do. They were good children and would keep what he was doing a secret.

They knew the reasons he was doing it. Their minds were easily concentrated on the memory of their Mother being raped in front of them by some of the security guards from this Hapona's canning factory. That had occurred barely four months before when the security guards came to search Salim's house for equipment stolen from the factory

The children too had been told by their Grandmother, that the Grandfather of this Hapona had murdered most of the family after they had helped to bury treasure stolen from neighbours.

They had enough reasons from their own suffering to want this Hapona dead.

## **********

## CHAPTER 17

## NEWS HEADLINES

### Manila, Luzon - Day 2

The morning newspapers briefly reported on page one of the kidnapping of a Japanese industrialist, then referred to page five for more details.

Pater sat in the Swagman dining room. Between brief readings of some articles in the Manila Bulletin, he was enjoying his poached eggs on toast with lots of pepper and excess ketchup.

He had turned over to page five and folded the paper in half, propping it against the ketchup bottle so he could read while he was eating. A photograph of the kidnap victim was partly obscured by the fold in his paper. He picked up the paper and unfolded it to have a look at the full photo.

"Whew. Shit," he exclaimed not realising that his utterance was audible.

"Complaining about the food are you?" It was Ben who had been about to walk past Pater on his way to the restaurant kitchen. "Well no bloody wonder with all that sauce you put on," he went on with a grin.

"No, no," answered Pater. "It's just that this photo threw me for a second. I thought it was T.A."

"Here, let's have a look. Yeah, there's quite a bit of a resemblance. Who is it?"

"Some Japanese has got himself kidnapped by some Muslim group. But this happened between Iligan and Marawi. Same island; wrong place. This guy doesn't look very Japanese to me."

"No, not to me either. Probably the wrong photo over the name. Anyway, your friend was heading off to Cagayan de Oro to start with. Going up market a bit while he was there, so he thinks. Gonna stay at the VIP Hotel he said. Stayed there once myself on a golfing jaunt. Acceptable but ordinary."

Ben put his hand to his nose and pushed it flat and grinned. "You know Pater, you could probably get a job with this Government if you looked more like a Filipino."

"Then I'd probably have to shoot the crap out of some corrupt official just to get my own money. No thanks."

Ben nodded and moved off.

Pater decided he would check on each new issue throughout the day as it came out. If this did turn political he just might end up with a call.

## \----------

### Near Linamon, west of Iligan, Mindanao. - Day 2

Salim had only dozed occasionally during the night. He wanted to be awake when the Hapona recovered consciousness. He wanted to begin taunting him as soon as he could for the Japanese sins and those of his ancestors.

For the present, this Japanese was cheating him by being unconscious. He was robbing Salim of months of pent up revenge by sleeping through this time when he was meant to be suffering retribution.

He was disgusted and repulsed by the Hapona. The smell of his emptied bladder on the floor had meant the clothes worn were impregnated with the smell. The muggy heat accentuated the smell. How dare he piss on the home of this family after what his guards had already done to his wife.

Salim knew he personally needed proper sleep and fresh air. His cousins would be arriving at different times during the day to look at and talk to this Japanese, and to relieve Salim of his vigil. Salim did not expect any trouble. The ankle bracket holding the chain could not be slipped and the floor bolts could only be undone from under the floor which was the ceiling of the vacant and unused part of the house below.

When two of his cousins arrived, Salim decided to undress the Hapona to get rid of the urine smelling clothes. His first thought was to just cut them off, then, he thought the suit, though soiled, might still fetch a reasonable price if cleaned up and sold later.

After undoing the ankle bracket with the help of his cousins, the Hapona was stripped to his underwear. Despite all this movement, the Hapona showed no signs of awareness or awakening.

To rid the urine smell of the underwear, Salim poured diluted antiseptic over them.

His cousins and himself, were both surprised at the hairiness of this Asian. Perhaps the Japanese were different. They all knew that this Japanese was a mixture of many races anyway, including Filipino. But to them he was still the Grandson of the murderer of their ancestors.

As they rolled the Hapona onto a tarpaulin, his cousins examined the injuries. After poking and prodding at the rib, chest and back bruises they looked at the head injuries.

Both cousins nodded and expressed some concern. The face was so swollen that they decided it would be preferable to wash the head with cool water and try to reduce the swelling. There was barely enough gap between the very dry lips to distinguish where the mouth was, although the swelling of the lips would have given away the position of the mouth. The cousins were concerned that the Hapona might have suffered brain damage and be in a permanent coma.

Salim called to his two daughters to fill buckets with water and bring clean rags. When the girls arrived with the required items, he ordered them to carefully wash down the Hapona thoroughly with warm water to clean him. Then use some cold water to reduce the swelling on the head and the bruising on the body. He left the room with his cousins. While they discussed the possible complications that Salim's temper had caused to the plan, the girls began their task.

## \----------

### Manila, Luzon - Day 2

As each newer edition hit the streets, Pater bought it. He sensed that something was not right.

The stories gave little extra information about the kidnapping until some extra information appeared in an early afternoon edition. In that, a reporter in Cagayan de Oro had done some research behind the story.

The wealthy Japanese plantation and fruit cannery processing plant owner, a Mr Ken Yamada, had been doing business in Cagayan de Oro. On completion of his business he had checked out of the VIP Hotel the previous morning to return to his plantation home near Marawi. The kidnapping had taken place between Iligan and Marawi. The bodies of the driver and one of the bodyguards were found by an abandoned Nissan Patrol belonging to Mr Yamada's company.

The Army, Police and Air Force helicopters were sweeping the area, but felt little could be achieved until some ransom note or other demand had been received.

Pater's senses heightened when he read the name of the hotel. He immediately returned to the Swagman Hotel and discussed his worries with Ben, the manager. Though Ben did not share Pater's concerns, he offered Pater the use of his office and telephone to make any necessary inquiries.

Pater started with a call to the Cagayan de Oro reporter. He had nothing to add to the story printed and new nothing about any 'Americano'.

Next he spoke with the VIP Hotel reception desk. "Yes, Mr Yamada had checked out early the previous morning. We do have a Mr T.A. Cholmondelly-Tapper staying here, but nobody has seen him for a couple of days. He has not taken any meals here for a couple of days. His clothes and suitcases are still in room 308. If he has left he has not paid his account. We are not worried because he has pre-signed a Mastercard voucher."

Pater listened to the information offered and with each word his suspicions seemed to gain ground.

"Have you contacted the Police or filed a missing person report?" asked Pater.

"No sir. We have no reason to do so."

"Has he telephoned anyone at the Hotel to say where he is."

"No sir."

"Well, did he phone anyone while he was in the hotel?"

The clerk excused himself and after a few minutes returned with the room's telephone records.

"Yes sir."

Pater took down the details after a minor protest from the clerk about the confidentiality of such matters.

"The number he phoned sir appears to be the same number that has been telephoning him every few hours to try and speak with him."

Pater felt this was important and again wrote down the details. After thanking the clerk for his assistance, he telephoned the given number of Nilo in Cagayan de Oro.

Next he called the Cagayan de Oro office of Paradise Plantation. They simply advised that Daniello Seville, the Finance Director, was handling all information about the rumour; but currently he was not available for comment.

## **********

## CHAPTER 18

## GATHERING SUPPORT

### Paradise Plantation, East of Iligan, Mindanao - Day 2

Yamada had already organised bulldozers and earthmoving equipment before he got the information about his kidnapping. They were to begin clearing an area of rain forest near the three large rocks he had recently located. The area was a little less than a kilometre from the packing sheds and nipa hut where he was now hiding.

The pretext for doing the basic ground clearing work was quite simple. The large area needed to be cleared for plantation of pineapple and mango in line with expanding company production.

According to the notes and records of his Grandfather, this area was the main site of hidden treasure. About 40% of the total war-time booty had been quickly buried around these rocks before the Japanese Army had to retreat. All those Filipinos, and some of his own soldiers who had assisted in the burial of the treasure, had been eliminated before he left the area. Then to try and ensure that none of the Filipino helpers had somehow managed to tell their families of what they suspected had been buried, Colonel Toshio Yamada eliminated all of their family members as well.

Because of the rapid regrowth of rain forest and the inaccuracy of the maps drawn, the three surprisingly conspicuous rocks had remained hidden from easy view for over 50 years. Yet they were in an area that both his Father and Grandfather had already searched. They simply never located the three large rocks.

Once all the ground cover had been removed, it would be easier for metal detectors to pick up good returns on the ground sweeps.

Yamada expected the ground clearing to take only five to seven days. He would only be able to use his metal detector at night. He could not risk being seen. He was supposed to be dead or in the hands of the kidnappers. Each night he would try and sweep the area cleared by the workers that day.

His family, still unaware that he was not in fact dead or the victim of kidnapping; had been telephoned by Ueda and told to return to Japan, supposedly for their own safety, until the body had been found: or a ransom demand, if one was received, had been settled.

Ueda had also contacted Daniello Seville, the company's finance director, to establish links for any questions about the attack on Yamada's Nissan. This was an area Ueda knew might prove difficult. Daniello Seville always considered Ueda an intruder into the financial workings of the company. In the absence of a supposed dead or kidnapped Yamada, Seville might choose this time for a power struggle.

## \----------

As far as Yamada was concerned, once he thought they had located all of the cache, Ueda would arrange for a digger to be left on the site. Ueda would also park a particular truck on site that the company owned. He had built some ingenious secret panels into the body work.

Yamada knew he just needed to stay out sight until they got whatever treasure they could unearth into the 'special' truck. Once that was done, he would ship the truck, as is, to Japan.

## \----------

### Manila - Day 2

Ben, the Swagman manager, referred to his hotel log for details supplied when T.A. brought Marivic into the hotel. Pater cross checked that information in a long telephone call to Nilo in Cagayan de Oro. Though some of Nilo's information was only reasonable guesswork, it had resulted in Pater waiting where he now was.

Pater, San Miguel bottle in hand, watched the girls twist their bodies around the fireman's poles suggestively. He was sitting in the 'girlie bar' that Nilo had seen T.A. enter while he had been selling his 'Rolex' watches. Now, Pater was waiting and hoping that the dancer Marivic would in fact perform that night.

He thought about how surprised Nilo had been about his call. Surprised and pleased. Nilo too had suspected something strange had happened to T.A. beyond his initial disappointment that T.A. had not returned his calls.

Nilo too, on seeing the newspaper report and similarities in the photo, tied in the events with the brief conversation he had when T.A. told him about meeting a Japanese.

Even though he suspected something must have happened to T.A., he did not know what to do about it. Hearing from Pater meant he could now be of help to someone who might be able to help his 'Americano' friend.

Pater had to check out the validity of this dancer. She might know something of T.A's plans and intentions of which neither Pater nor Nilo was aware.

It was reasonably crowded, including some servicemen from an American destroyer and some partially intoxicated loud mouthed tourists in their mid to late twenties. From their accents Pater took them to be from Eastern Europe, though exactly where he was not sure, he thought he could pick up the occasional Serbian word.

When she came on stage, Pater found it difficult to believe that it was the same person that he had seen T.A. with a few days earlier. The face looked different, but then she was made up to look different for this dancing routine. But it was definitely the same girl T.A. had been with at the Swagman Hotel.

As she was dancing he was trying to think how he could broach the subject with her about T.A's apparent disappearance. Would she want to be co-operative and helpful? After all, according to T.A., the parting had not been a happy one.

Pater watched as Marivic stepped off the stage with another of the dancers and down the steps at the side. They both walked toward the group that Pater had picked as being from Eastern Europe.

He cursed to himself for not acting quicker. He should have told the barmaid earlier that he wanted to talk to Marivic. He did not have time to waste and yet he knew he had already wasted too much of it.

He hoped Marivic would choose not to go with these tourists. The final selection of a partner was the right of the bar girls. They were free to make the final decision on whether or not to accompany a client, even if the client had picked them.

It seemed that language was a problem in their communicating what was required in payment. One of the men behind Marivic had begun squeezing her buttocks as though testing a fruit. She did not like it and turned around to face him with a scowl on her face. The others in the group of five laughed, as did Marivic's co-dancer.

Pater hoped this would be enough for Marivic to decline the offer and return to the stage. However the pawing stopped and discussion seemed to continue in sign language. They seemed to finally agree on payment and Marivic and her friend turned to walk into the side room to get changed and leave.

Pater knew he had to act quickly to get Marivic's attention or to get her to change her mind.

Firstly he went to the door and spoke in Tagalog with the guards, handing them a wad of notes without even having the time to count them. Next he went toward the door that Marivic had gone through. One of the guards from the doorway accompanied him, brandishing his home brand rifle.

The barmaid was about to protest Pater entering the side-room. The guard muttered something to her and she stood back, watching silently.

When the two girls saw Pater enter, they let out a little scream, then, saw the guard had obviously approved the action.

Pater began to talk to her in Tagalog then switched to his more comfortable English.

"I need your help. A friend of mine and yours is in trouble."

"That's a new line," she responded.

"I'm talking about T.A."

At the mention of T.A. he saw the hurt expression appear on her face and sadness in her eyes.

"I think he's got into some trouble in Cagayan de Oro. I need help from anyone who knows him by sight and who thinks they can help."

Pater explained what he thought might have happened to T.A.

"Is there anything else that might help us find out where he might have gone or who he might have been with if he wasn't with the Japanese?" asked Pater.

"No. But he did promise he was going to deliver some presents that I asked him to deliver to my family."

"How can I find out if he has."

"I'd have to telephone a neighbour of my family to find out if he has been there."

"Can we do that now?"

"But what about the men waiting? They have paid the bar fine."

Pater looked at the guard and reverted to Tagalog.

"The guard says there is no other way out. He will tell them that I am your husband and I have just found out that you work here and have come to take you home."

"The only problem is that they don't speak English. So they won't understand," answered Marivic.

Pater did not want any violence in the bar. If the police became involved it could be difficult for him.

"O.K. then, just straight out through the front door and hope we can get out before the customers know what has happened."

The guard suggested a distraction to take the customers attention away from the changing room. He would arrange a distraction.

The guard told them to get ready to leave as soon as the commotion began. He left the changing room and went to opposite side of the bar from where Pater and Marivic needed to make their dash.

A loud voice started yelling in Tagalog at the two dancers furthest away from the changing room. The two dancers were stunned and mystified. The guard's loud abuse continued. The attention of the customers was turned toward what was happening.

Pater grabbed Marivic's arm and they made a quick dash for the door. Having made it, they continued running even when they got outside.

Pater grabbed the first empty taxi he saw and they quickly clambered in the back seat, to the shock and surprise of the driver. It was not that Pater wanted the transport, he wanted Marivic to be hidden from anyone running out after them.

"How the hell is the guard going to explain that abuse to the girls?" asked Pater.

"They'll understand later when he explains it all to them, though he will have to soften it with money."

"Don't worry. I've given him plenty of that to go around," said Pater.

Pater asked the driver to take them to the Swagman. Within minutes they were there.

## \----------

### Linamon, west of Iligan, Mindanao - Day 2

The work that Salim Hassan's two daughters had done had slightly reduced the facial swelling. Still, Salim was frustrated by the Hapona's continued coma.

This time he sent a follow up messages to the newspaper office in Iligan, telling them to contact the cannery company and demand a 200 million peso payment for the release of the Japanese. The instruction for the payment of the money would be forwarded later. Salim knew he did not understand finance and did not know whether what he was asking was too much or too little.

Some of the cousins, and friends, who had helped him in the kidnap, were militant members of some of the Muslim splinter groups. He had needed their help because of the weapons they were able to get. They would be expecting some financial reward. Most of his other cousins though had to be content with using machetes in the attack.

Salim felt bad about those who had been wounded, but there was no serious injury from which the men hurt would not recover.

The cannery response to his demand was to be printed in a particular way in the newspaper which he had now begun to read daily. He had seen this done in one of the 'Americano' movies he had seen that had subtitles.

Salim was feeling cheated in many ways by this Japanese. He knew Yamada spoke many languages including several Filipino languages. But Salim felt that this Japanese had treated him as an inferior because he only knew his local dialect and Visayan. Some of Salim's cousins spoke many Filipino languages and his cousin Omar was fluent in English. His favourite cousin, Omar Osani, was often used by the local council to translate English into Visayan, and vice versa, even though Visayan was not meant to be used in any government documents.

He envied Omar, but with a love greater than that which he had for his real brother.

Salim wanted to hurt this Japanese in as many ways as possible. He had originally planned to kidnap and kill Yamada's wife and children so Yamada might feel the pain Salim had suffered. His cousin Omar warned him against that because of possible reprisals by Yamada's wife's family, who were well respected Filipinos in the Lanao Del Sur region. No amount of secrecy would have been able to keep the identity of the perpetrators of that crime, from her family. So he abandoned those plans.

It was even a risk doing what he had done. But there was more understanding of his revenge motive if he kept it with just the Japanese as his target. It would be treated by others as if he had a just cause at the right target.

Still the Japanese slept. Still Salim kept his vigil, and would do so all night. If by the morning the Japanese had not recovered, Salim would sleep for the day and let his daughters keep watch to alert him of any possible changes. He made sure the daughters kept their malongs and head scarves handy in case the Hapona woke up. Then they would have to cover their hair and bodies immediately. Though, if he was going to kill him, it probably did not matter much if they did not cover themselves.

## \----------

### Manila - Day 2

Pater expanded on what Nilo and he knew, and on what they both guessed might have happened to T.A.. Marivic sat and listened without interrupting.

He looked at her as he waited for a response. Her eyes reflected sadness and concern as she looked past Pater and toward the blank wall inside the office.

"I'll do everything I can to help him," she finally replied.

Pater looked at her and nodded. "We'll have to fly to Cagayan de Oro."

"And so will I."

## **********

## CHAPTER 19

## CALLING UP FAVOURS

### Paradise Plantation, east of Iligan - Day 3

Yamada was angry. The bulldozer and grader that had arrived at 7:30 A.M. was less than half the equipment he had ordered and paid for. His self control was being tested to the full. He wanted to storm out of the house and berate the drivers that had arrived, but he could not. He was supposedly dead or kidnapped and being held elsewhere. Not even his own workers knew he was on the property.

He diverted his frustration and yelled at Ueda to get things moving. Ueda bowed correctly and left the house to instruct the drivers where to begin.

The plantations own six trucks and twenty or so workers followed the grader and bulldozer to where the clearing work was to begin. Ueda watched them depart and reluctantly returned to the nipa hut. Perhaps after Yamada left for Japan he would return to the Aikido school as an instructor.

## \----------

### Manila - Day 3

Pater sat in the breakfast lounge, facing the entry door, and waited for Marivic to return. His calls to the VIP Hotel, and Nilo both had the same result. Nobody had heard from T.A.. His calls to the canning factory to speak with Daniello Seville had received the same rebuff. The reporter in Cagayan de Oro was a little more helpful. A ransom demand had been delivered to his newspapers office in Iligan.

Pater made two telephone calls to friends in Malaysia and a few calls to other friends around the Philippines. His plan was beginning to crystallise.

He still had to call the Australian and New Zealand embassies to report a missing person, but there was no physical search they could undertake. They had to use official channels and request the Philippine Government to begin their 'missing person' procedures.

Pater was checking the local morning papers for any later information on the kidnapping when Marivic entered. She handed him the only photo she possessed of T.A. before she even said 'good morning'. She put her small suitcase down by the table and sat down and accepted the menu passed to her by Pater.

Pater looked at the photo. "Where was this taken?"

"Red Storm Karaoke Bar."

Pater signalled to a reception staff member who had been watching them. Pater handed him the photo and within seconds the clerk had left the hotel.

Including Ben, the Swagman manager, there were only four people in this part of the world, including himself, who knew T.A. well enough to recognise him if they saw him. Pater had to consider where they should start looking.

Marivic's order arrived and Pater watched her eat in silence. He could not understand the need for the locals to have rice with everything they ate at every meal.

Marivic finished her meal and Pater ordered coffees for both of them. When he saw a man he had been expecting enter the front door, Pater excused himself, leaving Marivic putting way too much sugar for his taste into her coffee.

When he returned to the table he put down a very full foolscap envelope. Marivic looked at it with curiosity but without asking what it contained.

"I thought I should get some background on our Mr Yamada's business and other interests, as well as some information about and good maps of the areas we might have to visit."

Marivic simply nodded her response.

"I don't suppose you have some good walking gear among the things you have in the bag."

Again she only nodded, again in the positive.

"Because there might be quite a bit of walking."

"I know what to bring," she snapped back.

Pater was quite surprised at the reaction.

"O.K. then. I need to make some more telephone calls but I still need to buy some things. Would you mind doing my shopping for me?"

Marivic nodded positively.

Pater stopped a passing waitress and tore a sheet off her order pad and borrowed her pen. Reversing the sheet he wrote his list and handed it to her with some money.

She looked at the list and nodded again. "I don't need this much money."

"Fine, bring me back the change. I will also have to be here to meet some friends who will be arriving this afternoon. They are going to help too. So if I'm not here, just ask Ben, and he'll let you into my room to wait."

Marivic pocketed the list and put the money into her small purse. When she stood up to leave she clutched the purse firmly across her chest and left the hotel.

Pater sipped the last of his coffee and made his way to Ben's office.

## \----------

West of Linamon \- Day 3,

Salim Hassan's desires to taunt the Japanese were still being frustrated by the Japanese still being in a coma. Salim's temper was also not helped by his feeling very tired. His cousins were still visiting regularly to keep guard on the Hapona when Salim had to temporarily be absent. While the Hapona remained unconscious there was little to do. The Hapona's body was now covered with the large welts of mosquito bites he had received during the night.

His daughters, Siti and Zahra, had dripped water between the Hapona's lips to try and reduce dehydration, but not too much to cause drowning. Salim left the room for a nap and instructed his girls to continue with the cold water treatment, and also to apply ointment to the bites. He hoped the Japanese would get malaria, but he didn't want him die from infected bites. Not yet anyway.

## \----------

### Manila - Day 3

Pater had read the background on Yamada, and was surprised at the long association the Yamada family had with the Philippines. The other notes and comments about the local guerilla groups active in the area only expanded slightly on what he already knew. There seemed to be nothing concrete on which he could begin the search. The newspapers reported that the army, police and air force were searching between Iligan and Marawi. But the search would have been an excuse for the armed forces to settle some old scores against the Muslims rather than conduct a proper search.

It seemed that nobody at Yamada's business office had released any information at this stage about the finance for the ransom demand.

He called the Cagayan de Oro reporter again and asked what evidence had been sent to prove anyone was holding the Japanese. He advised there was none.

Yamada's Finance Director had asked the Iligan newspaper to respond to the kidnappers demand for a communication link through the paper by the kidnappers. The reporter was going to shift from his Cagayan de Oro office to Iligan to prepare a response. As far as radio and TV networks were concerned, he was the one they had immediately accepted as the conduit and source of information. By default it seemed that he had been put in charge of reporting on this incident.

Pater advised him that he would be heading to Cagayan de Oro later today and to leave his contact details with the VIP Hotel wherever he was.

He contacted Yamada's Paradise Canning factory and pretending to be a reporter asked to speak to the person handling the ransom demand. After a few minutes the receptionist was back on the line.

"Putting you through to someone who might be able to help."

Pater waited and listened. After a brief pause and a few rings on the line, the voice of an effeminate sounding male answered.

"Daniello Seville, Finance Director speaking."

Using a slightly southern US accent, Pater replied. "Mr Seville, thanks for taking my call. This is Kurt Ramses of United Press International."

"I am not giving any interviews or information to the press at the moment."

"The VIP hotel staff said Mr Yamada had two bodyguards with him as well as the driver."

"One of Mr Yamada's assistants didn't go all the way."

The undisguised homosexuality in the Finance Director's voice made Pater pause to wonder what angle he should take to obtain information.

"Have you heard from him?"

"Yes, Mr. Ueda did phone."

Pater detected a sense of annoyance in the speaker's voice. He wondered if it was in respect of his questions or the mention of Ueda's name.

Any further questions Pater then asked were met with a stubborn "I cannot comment further."

He would let it go for now while he thought further about it, then follow up as necessary once he had flown to the area.

## \----------

### Paradise Plantation, east of Iligan - Day 3

Ueda reported to Yamada that a second grader and bulldozer had arrived after lunch and now all the equipment was being used, His trucks were barely coping with the removal of the uprooted trees and scrub. Each truck being quickly filled and transporting the vegetation to another site, and immediately after emptying the crushed cover as broken up rain forest filling into a gully, the trucks returned for another load.

Yamada felt frustrated that he had to keep up the sham that he was expanding the plantable area. He would have preferred to have simply got the trucks to drop their loads away from the area he wanted to search.

Tonight, both he and Ueda would begin search patterns with the metal detectors over the area already exposed.

## \----------

### near Linamon, west of Iligan - Day 3

The girls had listened to the snores of their Father as they treated the bites of the Hapona. The older girl, Siti, had begun to apply the cold rag to the swollen face. She noticed some twitching of the eye lids, then the eyebrows and cheek muscles moving in small spasms. She pointed this out to her younger sister Zahra. They decided this was not enough reason to wake their Father.

Neither of them wanted to feel the back of his hand as punishment for waking him too soon, the Hapona was still unconscious.

They continued placing cold water dampened rags on the worst bruises and swollen areas for the next hour, and giggled quietly as they did their work. Siti could not resist the temptation any longer and lifted the band around the Hapona's underwear for a quick peak. She giggled again and Zahra too sneaked a quick peak. After all, the Hapona would never know.

They became scared at the thought of what their Father would do to them if he caught them looking. For a while any further temptation to look again was tempered by that paternal temper, and was suppressed.

During the next hour, Siti noticed the Hapona's lips begin to move. She dripped some cool water between them, and the lips moved again as though seeking more. She continued with the small amounts of moisture while Zahra watched on.

Over the next 30 minutes Siti heard quiet moaning sounds emanating from the Hapona. It was not any words, simply sounds similar to those made as they breathed out. She put her ear to his chest to confirm that it was not words. It was not, but the hairs on the Hapona's chest tickled her cheek and ears. Hearing the loud snores from where her Father was deeply asleep, she was again tempted to peak under the elastic band.

This time she did not giggle as she looked, but felt disappointment that what she was looking at was soft and small. Zahra also looked again. They both screwed up their noses and went on with the cold water bathing.

## \----------

### Manila - Day 3

Pater and Marivic were waiting in Pater's room. Marivic silently watched Pater studying maps and reading the notes that he had sprawled over the bed.

Marivic looked at him differently now from the way she had done so earlier and on their first meeting. At some stage while she was out, Pater had shaved off his beard and had his hair trimmed. Somehow, though she could not see why, maybe it was in the way he moved or his mannerisms, he reminded her of T.A.

Pater looked at his watch again. He had been doing that frequently over the past 45 minutes.

"Soon be time for dinner if you want. Just let me know if you're hungry."

"No thanks, not yet," Marivic replied.

"I'm expecting a couple of friends to arrive soon, so I've been waiting until they get here. They're always hungry."

She watched him alternately referring to maps or notes he had been given, then, making his own notes in a pad.

A knock on the door made him spring off the bed and he was already halfway there before Marivic had even begun to wonder who it might be.

Marivic watched two very tall, solid, and very fit looking Filipinos, carrying bags, enter the room.

"This is Henry and Rangi. Chaps, I'd like you to meet Marivic."

Marivic immediately started to speak to them in Tagalog.

The newcomers smiled back and nodded politely as she spoke.

"See, I told you, you looked the part," said Pater.

Marivic looked curiously at Pater.

"Sorry Marivic, these guys aren't Filipino. They're from New Zealand. Natives of New Zealand, Maori. They just look like big Filipinos don't they?"

Marivic still looked surprised.

"Don't worry, you'll get used to it. They'll fit perfectly into what I have planned. They had to either be Filipinos or look like them."

"O.K. then," Pater went on. "Sorry fellows we'll have to get straight into it. First here's the menu, I'll get them to send some food up and start telling you what it's all about, and what I think has happened. Then you give me your ideas."

After the food orders were placed, Pater contacted the airline and booked four seats on the first available flight to Cagayan de Oro. That was 5:15 a.m. tomorrow. He then contacted reception and arranged for another two rooms to be booked, and a wake up call with breakfast to be delivered, then a taxi to be waiting to take them to the airport the next morning.

"Sorry once again. Really early start tomorrow. You guys can share a room and the other is for you Marivic. I don't think it'll be worthwhile going home tonight."

They all nodded in agreement. Pater was on a roll and was all business.

"O.K., the facts first, then what I think."

Pater told them what he had read in the papers, heard from the reporter, Nilo, the VIP staff, the company man, and what he had read in the notes delivered to him earlier that day. Nobody interrupted until the knock at the door indicated the food had arrived. The waiter also delivered the keys to the two extra rooms.

After the waiter had left, the visitors helped themselves to the food. Pater went on while they were eating.

"There's quite a few different possibilities. One of my favourites at the moment is that this Yamada has faked his own disappearance. But if so he's pretty damn ruthless. He killed two of his own employees to fake it. But I just don't know how he would've got T.A. to fit into that plan."

"The reason that I am suspicious about the kidnap is that there doesn't seem to be any urgency by his company to get organised to pay the ransom."

"Next. Does someone in his company want to get him out? That would answer the lack of response. Again though, where does T.A. fit into it?"

"The possibilities just go on and on and whatever the answer is we still have to find what has happened to T.A. There are lots of possibilities and we will have to eliminate as many as possible before we can even guess where to start searching."

When the discussion about all the possibilities started, Marivic just listened. It was obvious from the way these people talked that they were close friends and had worked together before. She had wanted to interrupt and ask what sort of work they all did, but felt a little intimidated.

By the time 9:30 P.M. had come, Marivic knew she could not contribute anything to this part of the discussion. She asked Pater if it was all right to go to her own room and get to sleep early. Pater, checked his watch.

"Shit, I didn't realise how much time had gone. I think we should all hit the hay. Big day and an early start tomorrow."

The two late arrivals picked up their bags and left almost immediately. Pater escorted Marivic to her room and opened her door.

"Tomorrow," he said, "in Cagayan de Oro; that is where we will really need your help. These guy and I will really need you then."

She felt a lot better with Pater's words.

He leaned forward and kissed her on the top of the head.

## \----------

### Paradise Plantation, east of Iligan - Day 3

Yamada and Ueda had waited until the last of the workmen had departed. Within minutes of arriving at the cleared area, Yamada had set up pegs to enable them to work a grid pattern. Though he knew that the position of the pegs would be lost during the next days clearing, it might be worth the effort if they found something early in the search.

## \----------

### near Linamon, west of Iligan - Day 3

The only positive that seemed to be happening was that the facial swelling on the Hapona had reduced considerably. It seemed to Siti and Zahra that they had managed to get more liquid into the unconscious figure, if the urine soaked under-blanket above the tarpaulin was any guide.

While Salim's cousins were there earlier in the day they had lifted the Hapona to remove the under-blanket to wash and dry it before replacing it.

Apart from that it was another day the Japanese had frustrated Salim. He would sit up again tonight and hope the Japanese would recover.

He had been working for this man for 18 years at the factory. His dismissal had been a shock. He wondered if his dismissal was just for theft, or did the Japanese or someone else also know that he had been sabotaging some of the equipment. Even at the time of his dismissal, it seemed the Japanese did not have the courage to dismiss him face to face.

At this moment, it was the closest he had ever been to this man, whose family had so much effect on three generations of his family. Somehow he did not look dangerous and threatening while like this. But he would eventually kill him anyway.

## **********

## CHAPTER 20

## THE SEARCHERS ARRIVE

### Cagayan de Oro - Day 4

Pater was annoyed by the delayed flight departure time from Manila. It was not that it was not expected; Philippine Airlines Limited had a reputation for delays. Filipinos themselves joked that PAL meant 'Planes Always Late'. Pater still cursed anyway.

When they arrived at the VIP Hotel they all signed in and picked up the keys for the three rooms he had booked the night before.

He decided not to tell the staff at this stage about their link with T.A. That would come later when he needed more information.

He picked up the messages left for him from the reporter and Nilo and they all made their way to their respective rooms.

## \----------

### near Linamon, west of Iligan - Day 4

Siti and Zahra had taken over once again from their Father, Salim, who had gone out to check the paper for a response to his demands.

The girls admired their handiwork. The swelling had diminished noticeably overnight. There were no more mosquito bites and even the welts from the bites of the previous day were almost gone.

Solid thumping of footfalls on the stairs announced the return of Salim. They knew from the louder than usual noise that he was in a foul mood.

When he stormed in through the curtained entry to the door, he made straight for the comatose figure. He swung his leg back to kick the Hapona, and then stopped just as suddenly. Instead he slapped Siti heavily on the top of the head which made her fall to the floor. She cowered, frightened, and expecting that she would receive the kick intended for the Hapona.

Instead, Salim turned and walked just as quickly out of the room. They heard his steps as he thumped down the stairs and slammed the door as he left. The girls remained silent.

After a few minutes of listening nervously for sounds of the door being noisily opened, they started the cold compact treatment again.

## \----------

### VIP Hotel - Day 4

Pater's group were all in Pater's room when the receptionist called to advise that a man called Nilo was waiting downstairs. Marivic offered to fetch Nilo because she was the only one of the group who knew him. Immediately she left, Pater reminded Henry and Rangi that although there was a good chance that T.A. might in fact already be dead, not to tell Marivic or Nilo of that possibility.

Marivic introduced a beaming Nilo to Pater, Henry and Rangi.

Nilo looked at Henry and Rangi and started to speak to them in Tagalog. This time Marivic laughed and explained that they were from New Zealand.

"But my friend T.A. is from New Zealand, and he doesn't look like these men."

"No, they're Maoris, the natives from New Zealand."

"They look like big Filipinos."

"Yeah, they probably were a few hundred years back but they eat potatoes not rice," Pater said with a grin.

Henry and Rangi listened with smiles on their faces.

"Did you come all the way from New Zealand to help us?" asked Nilo.

"In a roundabout sort of a way," replied Rangi with a grin.

The phone rang again. After listening for a few seconds, Pater hung up, excused himself and left the room. In less than five minutes he was back carrying a small travel bag.

He put the bag on one of the beds and undid the zip at the top.

"Marivic, Nilo, before we go any further I just want you to know that in trying to find T.A., wherever he is, there could be some danger to all of us. We don't know yet. We have to find out these things as we go along."

Pater paused to make sure his words had sunk in. Satisfied that it had, he went on.

"Therefore we have to be prepared, just in case."

He pulled out four hand held radio receiver/transmitters.

"I originally thought of just using mobile phones, but I have been told that there are many areas not covered. So we will use these to communicate between us. Henry, Rangi, and myself, have all used them before. The spare is in case there is a problem with one of them."

He gave one each to Henry and Rangi and returned the fourth into the bag.

He then pulled out five Nokia mobile phones.

"Three of these are for us." He looked at Marivic and Nilo. "If you don't know how to use one, we'll show you."

Nilo and Marivic both smiled in anticipation.

He put his hand into the bag once more and drew out an oversize bank money bag.

"Lastly, but most importantly Henry, Rangi and myself will carry one of these each." Three Gloch pistols were produced from the bag.

## \----------

### Paradise Plantation - Day 4

By mid morning, Ueda's need for sleep was making his ability to concentrate on what the workmen were doing difficult. Yamada had insisted on continuing the grid search until the sky began to lighten. Then after returning to the plantation hut, he gave Ueda a list of things to be done.

Yamada complained about being tired, crawled into a hammock and within seconds was snoring loudly.

Ueda was sure a short sleep would have recharged him sufficiently to cope with the tasks Yamada had set him. But Yamada needed him to make regular checks of the area being cleared in case something was accidentally dug up.

Ueda also had to make contact with Yamada's secretary about the ransom demand. That cover needed to be maintained.

## \----------

### near Linamon - Day 4

Salim Hassan returned again around midday, demanded that his food be prepared, and after eating it, promptly fell asleep on a mattress on the floor.

The girls returned to their task of trying to help the Hapona to recover. Each would spend about 15 minutes dampening the face, then dry it and wait for a further 15 minutes before wetting his face again.

Siti was fascinated with the hairiness of the body. She did not tell Zahra what she was thinking or how she felt. While softly trying to massage some life back into the Hapona's body, she frequently stroked the back of her hand against the run of the hair to feel a greater effect. It had begun to send a pleasant shudder through her body when she did it. So she only ever did it when her little sister was out of the room.

During one of Siti sessions while Zahra was out of the room, she noticed the Hapona's eyelids flicker more than usual. She stopped applying the water and watched, fascinated.

This time, the eyes half-opened briefly several times, yet they were still unseeing. The breathing was becoming heavy and irregular. She began to stroke his forehead and hair with the palm of her hand. The Hapona seemed to settle down quickly and his breathing became regular again. Soon after, his lips began moving again in what she had begun to understand was a need for water. She soaked the clean rag and let the moisture drip. For the first time she saw the Hapona push his tongue out a little to get the moisture on his lips.

Despite the regular drips into the crack between the lips, they were still dry and cracked. The lips though had reduced to almost normal though they did have a few splits and cuts from the beating.

Siti wet her fingers and applied them to the Hapona's lips. When his tongue flicked forward through his lips and touched her fingers, she pulled them away quickly, but she had felt a sudden sharpening of the nerve ends in her stomach.

She wet her fingers again and reapplied them to his lips. This time though, when the tongue touched her fingers she did not withdraw them. She also did not notice that her own breathing had become rapid.

Zahra re-entered the room and noticed Siti's fingers on the Hapona's lips. But she did not see Siti's face blushing as she withdrew her fingers.

## \----------

### VIP Hotel - Day 4

Nilo retold the group about how T.A. had told him he had met a Japanese and the Japanese was going to take him to a tailor the night before he disappeared.

"I think it's about time we had a chat with the hotel staff and a look inside T.A's room," said Pater.

"I'll get the key," said Nilo.

"No key. If the police do finally get their arses moving, we can't have any problem with the possibility of tampering with evidence. How are the skills Henry?"

"These doors? No worries."

"O.K.," he said looking at Nilo and Marivic, "you two stay here. We won't be long." With that, Pater left the room followed by Henry and Rangi. Within half an hour they were back.

"Marivic, did T.A. only have one pair of dress shoes? maybe two dress shirts and one tie? One pair of dress longs?"

"Yes I think so, only one. I only ever saw one pair of shoes. I think maybe only two dress shirts and one tie. Yes, he had a pair of dark blue longs. They were all hanging up in the room in Manila. I wasn't being nosy, it's just that after T.A. bought me some clothes I hung my clothes up in the wardrobe too and saw what he had."

"A normal well travelled holiday-makers' basic clothing kit. Well the shoes are missing, same for one shirt and the tie. But his dress longs are still there, one pair in the wardrobe. Strangely, what also look like a brand new pair of brown trousers sitting in some torn wrapping. Perhaps he had already picked up something from the tailors. At least we know he was dressed up when he left. Hang on. He might have carried the shoes, tie and the shirt with him to the tailors. Scratch all that. Back to square one."

Nobody added anything else.

"Did T.A. have some Rayban sunglasses in Manila?"

"I don't know," replied Marivic. "I don't remember him wearing Raybans when he was with me."

"Nor me," added Nilo.

"An empty Rayban sunglasses case was on his bedside table. He must've been wearing them. I guess it's a chat to the staff next. Let's set up a cover story so they'll help us."

## \----------

### Iligan - Day 4

Ruben Consuelo had been a reporter ever since he had left school. He often thought of himself as a reporter even when he was still at school. Some of his articles had been included in the school magazine. There would have been more, but the teachers were always critical of his grammar.

His parents were poor, and the only way he managed to remain at school long enough to graduate was through working anywhere he could to subsidise his fisherman father's meagre income.

The marriage between his mother and father was also a social disadvantage. His father was Catholic and his mother Muslim. Therefore neither community fully accepted them or their children.

But that was then. As he grew older, matured and gained inter-personal skills, he found he could use his mixed religious ancestry to his advantage. He had a foot in both camps. While not a genuine follower of either religion, he understood the social and moral issues of both religions. After leaving school he had deliberately made an effort to learn as much as any lay-person was able to do without taking the final step of joining the cloth of either.

His knowledge had become respected in both camps. As yet, and already nearly 40 years old, he still had not made a notable journalistic scoop. He still felt in awe of the big names in Manila.

Perhaps this story about the kidnapping of a rich Japanese industrialist in his territory might be the opportunity he had hoped for. He would grab the opportunity, and work with the Devil if necessary, to be the reporting conduit for this story, that Manila, Japan and some of the rest of the world was following. Several Japanese newspapers had been contacting him daily and quoting their reports as being from Ruben Consuelo, their reporter on the scene. Even NKTV wanted him to send a photo of himself to include as part of their TV news bulletins as their reporter. All this sudden fame was making his mind wander from the job in hand.

The first thing he knew he had to do was to stop dreaming of how things might be later. He had to concentrate on the here and now.

To be closer to the possible scene of the action, he had temporarily shifted to Iligan. It was after all his birthplace, so he was home, even if he preferred Cagayan de Oro.

But who was this man Pater O'Reilly who had an interest in what was happening? He had not mentioned any newspaper or TV connection. Ruben Consuelo wondered how he should approach the subject of money for information when he next spoke to Pater O'Reilly.

## \----------

### VIP Hotel - Day 4

The staff could not have been more helpful even if Pater had given them all large amounts of money. Of course they wanted to help the distraught fiancée of the missing man, and her cousin Nilo, who was helping her. They also thought it was moving that Mr T.A. Cholmondelly-Tapper's half-brother Pater O'Reilly had been so concerned to fly all the way from Australia, when T.A's fiancée, Marivic, had contacted him to say he was missing.

It seemed the Reception staff and other staff could not offer much more information than that which Pater had already got by phone.

T.A. had been seen talking to Yamada in the dining room and the lobby, but had not been seen after retiring to his room for the night before he went missing. The Japanese had checked out before breakfast, paid his bill and left. The day-shift staff had seen him again briefly with one of his bodyguards after breakfast, though nobody could recall seeing him arrive, only the bodyguard. They had quickly checked with the dining room just in case the Japanese had taken breakfast and not paid. But apparently he had not been in the dining room.

The male clerk managed to get Pater to understand that he wanted to speak to him privately. Under the pretext of showing him the side door where the Japanese had left, he took Pater aside.

The receptionist told him that T.A. had a female with him for the night, but he had not wanted to say anything in front of Marivic. The night staff normally slept on mattresses behind the counter, and he was only aware of it because the sound of the lift opening had alerted him and he had jumped up in case it was the manager. He did not get a good look at the woman, as it was dark, and she went out the side door. He did not take any notice of what time it was.

The security guard had been listening.

"About 5:00 A.M.," he said.

"What?" asked Pater, surprised at the interruption.

"Yeah, about 5:00 A.M. I had to wake up one of the stand-by taxi drivers."

"Is the driver still here?"

"Yeah, well he should be back shortly, he's just taken a fare to Plaza Fair."

"What did the woman look like?"

"Small. She looked more Chinese or Japanese, but she spoke Visayan like a local."

"When did the Japanese leave?

"They left about 6:45 A.M."

"What do you mean they?"

"Him in his flash suit and his two bodyguards. But one of the bodyguards came back around 9:00 to pick up the Japanese again. I hadn't seen the Japanese come back to the hotel, a man's gotta take a break for a pee sometime don't he."

Pater just listened.

"Bloody rich Japanese had changed his suit too, rushed out the door, wearing his flash sunglasses, into his Nissan Patrol and gone."

Pater shook the guards hand warmly and in doing so palmed a P100 note into the guards hand.

"Will you let me know when the taxi driver returns?"

"Sure."

## **********

## CHAPTER 21

## LOOKING AT THE FORBIDDEN

### Cagayan de Oro, Administration Office of Paradise Plantations Corporation - Day 4

Ruben Consuelo, the company Finance Director, had read, and re-read the ransom demand pushed under the office door on Day 1. Since then little seemed to have happened. The kidnappers had contacted the newspapers since the original note. Apart from the fact that Yamada was not contactable, he had no real evidence that the original note was genuine.

Other newspaper offices and even some TV news teams had contacted him, but they seemed to know more than he did.

Ueda, who was apparently at one of the fruit gathering sheds, had contacted him twice on a mobile phone. Even Ueda had been vague about the need for funds, insisting they only be sourced from within the Philippines accounts.

Consuelo knew it was impossible to raise the amount demanded by the kidnappers from the company's Philippines resources. That annoyed Consuelo. For some reason Yamada had given this unqualified bodyguard greater access to company funds than he as Finance Director was given.

With Yamada gone, there was no way that Consuelo was going to allow the Japanese hulk to tell him what to do. Ueda was not even a company director. Consuelo was and was also quite prepared to accept the role as Acting Managing Director and Chief Executive Officer in Yamada's absence.

If the board agreed to his appointment he would cancel all of Ueda's rights of access to company funds. To do that he had to have approval from all the board members present at the Special Meeting he had called. In the next seven days he would try and track down where Yamada's foreign investments were held and begin liquidating some investments to pay the ransom.

Ueda seemed to have little interest in saving his boss by paying the ransom. Consuelo would show Yamada who really worked to save him.

## \----------

### Near Linamon - Day 4

Siti was alone with the Hapona. Having just dried the last of the cold water from his face she was gently making circles in the hairs on his chest. She pulled back quickly. The Hapona had moved his right arm, then, put his hand on his forehead.

She could not make out the words he was mumbling quietly. But then she did not really expect to because this man was Japanese. She only spoke Maranao, the language of Lanao Del Sur Province, Visayan and a little Tagalog. She understood but could not speak Chabacano, the language of West Mindanao. Her uncle had been trying to teach her some English, and she had been making reasonable progress.

She was undecided whether to wake her Father. If she did and the Hapona was not conscious she knew she would receive another slap. It was just that she was worried that the Hapona's arms were free. He might regain consciousness and grab her at any stage. Her Father had some more floor mounted brackets ready to secure the Hapona's arms. But her Father had felt that was not necessary while he was unconscious. The only restriction was the leg manacle and chain. It made it reasonably easy for the girls to roll him over to wash him.

The Hapona opened his eyes several times for a few seconds, but the gaze was that of a person still asleep. Then he would close them again. The swelling around the eyes had reduced, but the black rings around the eyes had darkened.

She jumped again, but not because the Hapona had moved. Her Father had come quietly into the room and stood behind her, then gave her a little tap with his foot to let her know he was there.

"When did he move his hand to his head?"

"A few seconds ago. I was going to get up and tell you. But he hasn't done anything else yet."

"I'd better secure his arms before I go out, just in case he moves some more."

Zahra came into the room to see what was happening. Both the girls watched their Father put manacles around the Hapona's wrists, then, thread the chain through a U-bolt on each manacle.

None too gently he tugged the chain and held it tightly while he fastened the chain through the floor bracket. Attaching a second ankle manacle to the previously unmanacled leg, he secured that to the floor.

"You'll be safe now. Zahra has to go and get some more rice and I am going to find a newspaper."

Zahra looked at Siti as if concerned that Siti would be alone with this monster. Seeing that it would be impossible for the Hapona to move, let alone grab Siti, she relaxed. Her Father pushed her through the curtains and they both left.

Siti looked at the Hapona. He did not look like any monster to her. But if he was recovering she would not have long to do what she had been wanting to do. She was alone now.

She went out through the curtains and looked down the steps to check that the front door was closed. It was. Nobody could quietly open that door. She would hear if anyone arrived.

Running back through the curtains she knelt beside the prostrate figure now bound almost like the figure of Christ on the cross. She had seen those prints of Jesus on the cross in the homes of some of her Christian friends.

Watching the Hapona's eyes, she slipped the front of his underwear down. There was no movement from the Hapona.

His 'thing', as she thought of it, seemed all squashed up. It must have been because of the tightness of the underwear. She went to touch it to 'unsquash' it, then pulled her hand back.

After pausing for a second or two she gently picked the flaccid skin up between her fingers and untangled the hair that was matted around it.

She sat back and admired it now that it was free of matted hair. Then she felt her eyes begin to widen as the 'thing' started to grow in size in front of her eyes. She held it gently in both hands and felt it grow strong and hard in her hands.

The gnawing ache began again in her stomach. She did not know if it was fear because of what she had done, or if it was something else. She knew about sex, that was taught in school and sex had been the subject of much talk among her friends. Most of her friends the same age had already 'done it', especially her Catholic girlfriends. The once she had tried it, it was a disaster. It was over before it had begun.

The problem with the boys was that they talked about what they had done. If her Father ever discovered she had done anything like that, he would probably kill her. He even disapproved of her talking to the Catholic girls at school. He thought they were a bad influence.

But right now, right here, she had something that could not talk and would not be aware of what was going to happen.

She quickly removed her shorts and panties and kept them in her hand in case she heard the door open.

## **********

## CHAPTER 22

## LOOSE PLANS FOR SEARCHING

### VIP Hotel - Day 4

Pater's thoughts were only reinforced by the taxi driver's information. He had dropped off the lady that had spent the night with T.A., outside Robinson's Supermarket. He watched the lady as he circled round hoping to find another fare. The lady crossed the road and immediately got into another taxi which headed back in the same direction from which they had come.

Pater was amazed. He felt certain that the woman had intentionally used a simple but effective evasion technique to avoid being followed. The thought that she may have been arranged as a distraction by Yamada for T.A. fitted in with her physical description as non Filipina, looking more like either Chinese or Japanese. Yamada would not have wanted T.A. to talk with anyone outside Yamada's influence in case T.A. said he was going to be with Yamada.

"Nilo, do you have four men friends, even better if it's four relatives, who could help?" asked Pater. "Also, maybe one more that has a private jeepney. Big enough for 12 passengers."

"Sure. For how long."

"Several days at least. I'll pay for their time. But it's urgent. We've gotta get to Iligan as soon as possible. Preferably if they can also sing a little bit."

Nilo gave a puzzled look, and grinned, "The money makes it easy. I'll go now."

As Nilo left, Henry and Rangi looked at him curiously.

"What's with the singing bit?" asked Rangi. "Strange time to form a choir?"

"Just some way we might need to let T.A. know we are in the area."

Pater phoned the Ruben Consuelo, the reporter, at his contact number and left the message that he would be in Iligan tomorrow.

"When Nilo gets back, I'll tell you what I plan to do."

## \----------

### Paradise Plantation - Day 4

Ueda had sat in the shade near the clearing work. He had dozed occasionally, but whether it was dreams or thoughts he could not tell. Thoughts of Iti and the driver Hayashi kept flashing into his mind. He only wished he could have told them about the expected ambush. That though, he agreed, would have possibly negated Yamada's plans.

He was not sure whether he wanted Yamada to find his treasure tonight, or ever. But if he did, at least Ueda might be able to sleep. Then again, maybe not. If they found the treasure he would have to organise and load the treasure into the secret panels of the truck. More time without sleep.

## \----------

### Near Linamon - Day 4

Siti's favourite uncle, Omar Asani, visited. He was not really an uncle, but her Father's cousin. She called him uncle.

While Zahra, Omar and her sat crouched in the bedroom waiting for the return of her Father, they watched the Hapona.

Omar enjoyed playing the role of a teacher, even though for the moment he was earning his income as a fisherman. He made the two girls practice phrases in English. At other times he would tell the girls about the world away from the small narrow-minded and isolated barrio in which they lived. He had worked on cargo ships which travelled as far away as the Middle East.

Siti had always listened, fascinated by Omar's stories since she was very young. He was a good story teller. He always told her that until she could speak English fluently she would be trapped where she was. His own children were all quite proficient at English.

The lessons in English at school were dull and never interesting. But with Omar it was fun and he always made it easy to try different things.

They were practising English when her Father, Salim, returned. She knew the expression on his face meant bad news for everyone. She just hoped he would not revert to kicking the helpless Hapona to relieve his frustration.

"Doesn't look like good news," said Omar.

"They said it is too much. They don't have P200 million pesos," replied Salim.

"That's nearly US$3 million. Much more than if you robbed all the banks in Mindanao. Why don't you ask for something they can pay."

"Like what?"

"P30 million. That's more than you and me and all our families need in this life. We could all have nice houses and good cars, servants and investment money to live on."

Salim shook his head negatively. "I want to hurt him and make him pay for all the murders and crimes his family has done."

"Well P50 million then, but anything more than that they could never raise, and it will still take more time. They won't pay anything if he's dead. It's all taking too long. It's all too slow. Every day means more danger. And every day this Japanese does not eat is another day closer to his death. He should be in a hospital."

Salim looked at the prone body and nodded in the affirmative.

"I love you like a brother Salim, but if the army ever finds out, you will be killed. Your children will be without a Father as well as a Mother," said Omar.

"It was supposed to be over quickly."

"Then do something to make it finish quickly. This waiting for replies in the newspapers will take weeks. Go to Iligan. Get that unbeliever reporter Consuelo to hurry things up. He is dealing with that hypocrite accountant from the company. Just be careful. Control your anger. Make your demands ones which can achieve the goals, not something impossible.

Salim nodded again.

"I will tell my understanding wife," Omar said with a grin. "I will stay here to watch over the Japanese and your girls. She might have to sell more T-shirts to tourists at the resort. I will still have to catch some fish but I will only stay out until I have enough to eat. Besides, I can work here on my little secret surprise I have for her."

"What's that?"

"Until I am sure it is going to work, it is still a secret, even to you. You go. I'll stay."

## \----------

### VIP Hotel - Day 4

Nilo returned with his brother and four cousins just before sunset. Pater was sure that Nilo had planned the timing so they would all be fed in the hotel dining room.

He watched them eating as though they were taking on enough food to build a stored amount for lean days ahead. The dining room TV was on as usual, with the waiters spending more time watching it than serving patrons. The evening news had begun. Pater listened carefully for any news about the kidnap

"And in Mindanao today, the search goes on for kidnapped Japanese industrialist Ken Yamada. A ransom demand for P200 million has been received at the Head Office of Paradise Exports. Army and Air Force personnel are involved and are sweeping the area between Marawi and Iligan looking for clues as to the whereabouts of the kidnappers or Mr Yamada. The Philippines constabulary say their inquiries have been made difficult by the lack of co-operation of the locals. The Japanese Government has expressed deep concern about the lack of progress in the investigation. Local newspaper reporter, Ruben Consuelo, will be phoning with an up to the minute report in the late news bulletin."

Dinner completed, they all went to Pater's room.

"Sorry Marivic, but we must face the possibility that T.A. might be dead."

He noticed she visibly winced, and Nilo let his head drop.

"Though I think he might have been kidnapped with the Japanese, or in mistake for the Japanese. The Japanese has not reappeared since the kidnap, but his old loyal bodyguard has. Apparently the bodyguard has phoned the company. But the bodyguard seems more interested in supervising work by labourers somewhere that no-one will tell me. The company's Head Office man, their accountant, doesn't seem to be in any rush to find the ransom money either. Reckons most of the company money is tied up in overseas term deposits. He says he will have to borrow locally to pay for the release of the kidnapped Japanese."

Pater looked around at all their faces as he paused for effect. Then he went on. "Why? Maybe the bodyguard knows the Japanese is safe, or, the bodyguard is in on the kidnap. But then, if he was in on the kidnap, he would be pushing to get the ransom paid quickly. He isn't. Then if his boss was kidnapped you would think he'd be rushing around everywhere to find him. He isn't."

Pater looked at all their faces again.

"Or are the accountant and the bodyguard in cahoots? So many possibilities."

"If the Japanese has not been kidnapped, is it a real kidnap or is it a plan by the Japanese to disappear? I have checked with certain friends in Manila, they say there isn't any investigation into any aspect of this Yamada's businesses or his life. Apparently though his wife and family have returned to Japan, quite upset according to those I asked. It might be acting, but they don't think so."

None of the listeners interrupted.

"Therefore it seems that the kidnappers probably think they have Yamada. Instead they got T.A. That is a cause for concern. Because if they find out they've got the wrong person, they'll probably kill him. So we've got two people to find. Yamada, and T.A. If we find T.A., I don't give a shit about the Japanese. If we find the Japanese, we've got to hide him and make sure that nobody knows he's alive. If the kidnappers know we've got Yamada, and they've got a ring-in, they'll kill T.A. Everybody agree?"

Affirmative nods came from all those listening.

"Where do we start looking?" asked Nilo.

"Iligan I reckon. That's where the last few messages have been left. Some kid has always run into the newspaper office or the cannery head office with a message. The kidnappers haven't got time to keep taking transport to Cagayan. And I doubt if they're travelling from Marawi. So I reckon the kidnappers are in Iligan or nearby."

"As to where Yamada is, if he isn't with the kidnappers, then he'll be hiding on one of his properties. I reckon Yamada's alive mainly because if he had been in his car, both of the bodyguards would have been with him. Then there would have been three bodies on the road. If T.A. had been in the car at the time of the kidnap as well as Yamada, then T.A.'s body would have been on the road too."

"There are only three people here who know T.A. by sight and who he knows. Therefore we have three groups. One group is Marivic, Rangi and Nilo's brother. Next is Nilo, Henry and one of your cousins. Then me and your other two cousins. The last cousin stays with the jeepney, he's important for all of us. He'll have a mobile phone and we'll give him the last r/t."

Pater wanted the jeepney driver to feel important and not sleep on the job.

Pater looked directly at the jeepney owner. "You my friend must always be ready at a moments notice to get help to whoever needs it as soon as you can. Now it's back to school for all of you who don't know how to use a mobile phone or a r/t. Henry, Rangi and myself will show you. Then we'll start the singing lessons."

That brought a few strange stares.

The training on the equipment was detailed and thorough over the next 30 minutes.

"T.A. is a Kiwi. That is to say he is a New Zealander. Also he's been living in Australia. Now, in our search we'll be doing a lot of walking, up and down various streets. He might be in one of the buildings that we walk past. He might not be able to see us, but there's a damn good chance he could hear us. If he can hear us and know we're from New Zealand or Australia, he might be able to call out. Let's increase our chances of him knowing we're around by learning a few simple songs that would only be able to be sung by a Kiwi or an Aussie."

## \----------

### near Linamon - Day 4

With their Father gone, Siti and Zahra felt more relaxed. Their uncle, Omar, always seemed to have a calming influence, even on Salim. He spent an hour, practicing English phrases with dozens of repetitions, role playing situations of meeting people using the English phrases that would be used.

The two girls often giggled with embarrassment at their own lack of linguistic abilities. Siti kept glancing at the comatose figure.

Just as quickly as Omar had slipped into the teaching role, he stopped and crouched beside the Japanese. When he started to examine the chain and padlock that held the figures arms, Siti got the key from behind the curtain covering the door.

"Thank you," Omar said clearly in English. He had not slipped totally out of the teaching mode.

"You are welcome," replied Siti taking up the challenge.

"Very good, very good."

Omar removed the manacle from the Hapona's left wrist and allowed some slack in the chain. Now only the left ankle and right wrist were manacled.

He felt the area around the rib cage. Apparently satisfied there was nothing broken he began to try and lift the Hapona to a sitting up position. Reverting to his own Visayan language, "You are a heavy one. Come on you girls, give me some help."

Both the girls rushed to help lift. Then almost dropped the Hapona when he started to moan.

"That's nearly like.....," Siti cut her words off when she realised what she was going to say.

"Like what?" asked Omar.

"A little bit like the way he moaned this morning when I tried to move him."

The Hapona's head rolled uncontrolled in different directions.

"Siti, get behind him and hold his head upright. We'll try and get some action from this guy. He's been lying down too long. Rub his neck to help circulate the blood to his brain."

Siti knelt behind the Hapona, the Hapona's back supported by her chest. She held his head erect with her left palm on his forehead and massaged the back of his neck with her right hand. The Hapona moaned softly. Siti felt the desire between her legs start again, then felt her face turning red with embarrassment.

"Zahra, you work on his feet. We've got to get more than just water into him. By the way, you've both done an excellent job. The swelling's almost totally gone, just bruises. I can't understand why he is so hairy."

After about ten minutes, Omar nodded for them to lower the figure to the floor.

"Leave him for a while. I'll explain what's happened to your Ati and I'll bring some fish for us to eat."

Omar looked at Siti. "You can make a thin fish soup, and we can feed some of that into him instead of water."

## \----------

### Paradise Plantation - Day 4

The workmen had gone, machines switched off and left where they were when the sun set. Ueda walked slowly back to the small nipa hut where Yamada had remained out of sight for the day.

Ueda felt drained, even though he presumed he had managed to snatch some small naps under the tree. His brain had begun to signal the early signs of a headache.

As he entered the door of the hut and saw Yamada, he bowed courteously. Yamada responded.

"You look terrible," said Yamada. "Here, have some of this."

He offered Ueda a bowl of soup. Ueda accepted and cupped the bowl in both hands as he bowed again.

"After that, I have prepared some rice and fish for us. Tonight, you can sleep. I will check the ground. As soon as you have eaten, have some saki. That will help you sleep. Not too much, I might need you in a hurry if I find something."

Yamada had left the hut with his metal detector before Ueda had finished his soup. He helped himself to fish and rice, filled a small glass with saki, rolled out his thin mattress and was asleep before he had taken a sip from the glass.

## \----------

### near Linamon - Day 4

Siti had crouched close to the Hapona since her uncle had left. His eyelids were opening more frequently than before, but the stare was still vacant.

It was after 9:00 P.M. when Omar returned. He had brought with him a trolley loaded with boxes and thick glass. Siti, though curious, did not ask what it was all for.

He gave the fish to Zahra, who immediately began the preparation of the evening meal. Omar needed several trips to carry his load and equipment up the stairs, which he placed in the bedroom with the sleeping Hapona.

After they had all eaten, Omar sat the Hapona up as he had before, and using a spoon, forced the lukewarm soup through the Hapona's lips. The Hapona's mouth and jaw moved in a positive and conscious effort reflecting that he was swallowing the thin liquid.

He sent the girls off to bed telling them that he would be gone before first light to catch some fish to eat.

The girls rolled out their mattresses in the lounge and bedded down, but getting to sleep over the noises from the bedroom was difficult. Tiredness eventually overtook them and they drifted asleep.

Omar had begun to work on the wood that he had brought with him. Without using the intermittent and unreliable electricity supply, he used his gas lamp which cast eerie shadows around the room. The noises he made to disassemble the large ammunition boxes were louder than he had expected it to be. Next he had begun to make careful measurements. After measurements of the boxes and making shallow markings on the inside of the disassembled boxes, he checked and rechecked his markings.

He stopped working when he heard the Hapona start muttering. It seemed the Hapona was repeating the word 'No' and 'Don't' over and over again. He listened carefully to try and confirm what he was hearing. It confused him. Surely the Japanese would be talking Japanese even if he was multi-lingual. In the state he was in he should naturally revert to his native tongue. If not using Japanese, then why was he not speaking a Filipino language? Why would the Japanese be talking English? Surely that was the least used language of all those he spoke?

The mumbling stopped. Omar continued his crouch and watched the Hapona closely. He saw the eyelids open and stare toward the ceiling, then blink sleepily before moving his eyes slowly backwards and forwards trying to focus on the ceiling. Omar just watched without intervention.

The Hapona turned his head sideways slowly toward him, eventually settling his gaze on Omar's face. After a few seconds of silence and slow blinking of the Hapona's eyelids, he moved his mouth slowly trying to speak.

He made out the faint word 'who', before there was another long pause.

Omar sat the Hapona up easier this time. While supporting his back with his left arm, Omar held a cup in his right hand and fed the semi-conscious figure some cold fish soup. When the cup was empty, he eased the Hapona down onto the mattress. The Hapona was still too weak to be dangerous.

Very faintly the voice started again.

"Who are you?"

Omar wondered again why the Japanese was speaking English.

"I am Omar. Who are you?"

Omar waited a long time for the reply. When it came, it was faint.

"I can't remember."

## **********

## CHAPTER 23

## DAY FIVE BEGINS

### near Linamon - Day 5

Siti heard her uncle try to leave quietly and pretended she was asleep. She did not want him to know she was awake.

She had not slept well because of her desire to lie close to the Hapona and feel him inside her again.

It was still more than an hour to sunrise. She knew her younger sister slept so well she even had difficulty waking up long after the sun had risen.

Siti sneaked silently off her mattress and through the curtains where the Hapona was unconscious and sleeping on his back. She checked the tarpaulin under him to see if it was wet. It was not.

She lay beside him on her right side and put her left arm over his chest. His perspiration caused by the humid air had dampened his hairy chest. She ran the fingers of left hand through them and felt the ache between her legs. Removing the shorts and panties that she had been wearing when she went to bed, she put her left leg over the non-moving body. Having forced his legs between hers she felt her excitement grow.

She moved her left hand down from his chest to his underwear. His 'thing' was already hard. Gently pulling his underwear down slightly, she slid on top of him and felt the hardness dig into her. His entry seemed so natural and so easy. This time the Hapona moved beneath her and she moved in unison with him. And this time his quiet moaning was a pleasant sound, though she knew she too had begun to make sounds, she fought to suppress it.

## \----------

### Paradise Plantation - Day 5

Yamada returned to the nipa hut about 30 minutes before sunrise. Though he was disappointed he had not found anything during the night search, he had not really expected to.

The ground cleared was not yet close enough to the three large rocks near the centre of the area. If he had insisted that area nearest the rocks be cleared first as the main priority, it would have seemed very odd. He did not want to create any suspicions. It was also the most difficult area for the equipment to work on. Besides, according to his Grandfather, there were also at least three other smaller caches in the general area of the rocks, just a little further distant. Finding those as well as the main site would be a bonus.

He let Ueda sleep, though he felt like kicking him to stop the loud heavy breathing that made him envy Ueda's peace. Even his switching on the light made no difference to Ueda's breathing. Yamada was pleased the electricity was working. Many times they had only the light of candles or a small gas lamp to see by. The electrical supply was intermittent to say the least.

Last night's dishes were still on the table. He stacked them, removed Ueda's holstered silenced GP 35 Hi power Browning 9mm pistol from the table where it had been left and laid it on the chair that was slid under the table.

Yamada filled the whistling kettle and put it on the lit gas stove. Perhaps it would be a nicer way to wake Ueda by presenting him with a cup of tea when he woke him. Yamada sat in one of the armchairs to wait for the jug to boil. He was beginning to feel impatient with his lack of success. When Ueda woke he would tell Ueda to be at the work-site when the workmen arrived to instruct them to begin clearing the area near the rocks. With the extra amount they were being paid, they were all starting early, as soon as it was light enough to see.

When the jug started to whistle, Yamada sat and let it give off its high pitched shrill. He waited to see how long it would be before the noise woke Ueda. He waited and waited and began to think how incredible it was that anyone could sleep through such noise. And this was the man he had paid to protect his life day and night.

'Thank goodness there had not been any attempts on his life while Ueda was sleeping,' he thought. He had had enough of the high pitched squeal and stood to remove the kettle from the flame.

As he removed the kettle from the stove he sensed a movement behind him at the door and turned around. A figure was standing in the frame. He could not make out who it was. The figure spoke.

"Mr Yamada! You're safe. Everyone was worried about you, that you might be dead." The figure came in.

Yamada now recognised the figure. It was his plantation foreman who lived off-site with his wife.

"Ah, come in. Thanks for your concern. No, I'm quite safe. For now, anyway, or at least I hope so."

"Well, the others will all be pleased to know."

"I'm making a cup of tea, would you like one?"

"Yes please, that would be a nice way to start the day."

"What about your friends, outside, would they like one too?"

"No, there's nobody else, just me. Nobody else has arrived yet so I came to check which area Mr Ueda wanted us to work on today, that's all. I knocked, nobody answered but I could hear the squeal of the kettle for so long I thought there might have been something wrong. Gee I'm really glad you're safe. Did you get away from them?"

Yamada moved toward the table and stood behind the chair on which Ueda's pistol sat.

"Yes, but as yet I don't think they know I've got away. Do you want milk and sugar?"

"Yes please, when I can. Two sugars."

"How are your wife and family?"

"Good. At least I think so. They all went to Zamboanga for a few days to stay with her parents."

"So you're all by yourself then?"

"Unfortunately, yes."

Yamada looked over the visitors shoulder.

"Would you mind getting an extra cup off the shelf, over there."

The visitor turned and looked at the wall behind him. He could not see any shelf. He turned back to ask where Yamada meant the shelves were. He had barely turned back when he felt a sharp pain in the top of his chest at the same time that he heard a loud crack like timber snapping. Then he heard no more.

Yamada fired again as the body was slumping to the floor. It fell on its side. Yamada moved forward, and with his foot, pushed the body on its back. He then fired two more shots into the heart. The body jumped each time. So he fired one more. This time there was no reaction.

He turned around and nearly fired again as he saw another figure. It was Ueda. He had woken and risen quickly. From the wide stare in his eyes he was amazed at what he had seen, or imagined had happened.

"He came here to kill me," said Yamada.

"But it's the foreman."

"I know, I caught him sneaking around outside and I forced him to come in."

"But it's the foreman," Ueda repeated.

"He told me that he was the one that had given the kidnappers the detail of my movements."

Ueda put his hand out reclaim his pistol. He knew there were still eight rounds left in the 13 round magazine.

Yamada hesitated. He realised he would still need Ueda's help for at least the next few days. He handed the pistol to Ueda.

"Sorry for this, but I need your loyalty and help more than ever. You will be amply rewarded."

Ueda bowed his head, and vowed to himself to be more careful where he left his pistol.

## \----------

### VIP Hotel - Day 5

When Pater went down in the lift to have breakfast with Marivic, Rangi and Henry; Nilo's group were already waiting in the lobby. The question of them joining in for breakfast did not need to be asked twice.

Again they ate like there was no tomorrow. Pater signed the total bill onto his room, then, asked for his account to be made up as he was leaving for Iligan.

There was little packing to do. By 9:00 A.M. he had paid his bill and they were all in the jeepney and on their way to Iligan.

To pass the time they went over the training in the use of the mobile phones and the driver with the spare r/t. Then they burst into the singing of the New Zealand and Australian national anthems, together with some other songs that they thought T.A. would recognise.

When they got to Iligan, Pater would book into the hotel recommended by the VIP staff. Then, as soon as they were settled, he needed to talk to the reporter Ruben Consuelo now on the spot in the Iligan offices of his employer's newspaper. He was not getting any help from the company accountant, Daniello Seville.

## \----------

### near Linamon -Day 5

Omar had returned just after sunrise with five fish from his catch of twelve. He had dropped seven off at his home on the way. Five would be enough to amply feed himself, the two girls, and the Hapona if he was conscious.

Zahra was still asleep when he entered. He passed through the curtains and into the bedroom. Siti was crouching over the Hapona, squeezing water from the soaked rag between the lips of the Hapona.

"Has he woken again at all?" he asked.

"No."

"I was hoping he would have. He was awake for about ten minutes last night."

Siti felt her face redden.

"I'm not sure what state he's in though," Omar went on.

Siti made sure her face was turned away from her uncle so he would not see the flush in her face.

"We must get some more soup into him. Even better if he could take something solid," said Omar.

The Hapona's tongue flicked out to spread the water around his lips. Then his eyes briefly opened and closed.

Both Siti and Omar watched and waited for any further reaction.

Omar moved forward and crouched by the Hapona. He picked up the Hapona's left hand and began to massage it. The Hapona opened his eyes again. Apart from some slow irregular closing of his eyes his gaze remained fixed on the ceiling above.

Omar switched to English.

"Good morning, how are you this morning?"

Omar watched the head slowly turn to see where the voice had come from. The Hapona's eyes finally fixed on his with a hazy stare.

A weak voice with long gaps between the words started.

"Who...are...you?"

"I am Omar."

"I...had a...dream."

"What did you dream?"

"I was...with my...friend?"

"Who is your friend?"

"I don't...know."

"What is your name?"

Omar waited and watched as the Hapona closed his eyes and screwed up his face as though trying hard to think.

"I can't...remember."

Omar was surprised. As dehydrated as the Hapona was, tears had begun to form in his eyes. The body began to jerk spasmodically. He started to get worried and thought the Hapona was having a fit.

"I can't remember," the Hapona cried out with a surprisingly loud and clear voice. He started to sob; his body jerking with each sob.

Siti moved behind the Hapona and helped him sit up. Then, nursed the sobbing head into her shoulder and stroked the dirty matted hair on the Hapona's head.

The sobbing stopped. Omar looked up and saw Siti take the Hapona's hand in hers, and he saw tears in her eyes.

"Why don't I know...who I...am?"

"You will soon. We will help you."

"What...happened?"

"You had an accident."

"How did I get...here?"

"We found you. Can you eat?

The head nodded 'yes' slowly on his shoulder.

Omar switched to the Maranao language. "Quickly, just heat up a little of the soup from last night, and wake up that lazy sister of yours.

Siti jumped up and ran out the door yelling at her sister to wake up as she left.

"Is your name Ken?"

There was along pause.

"I don't think so."

"Anatawa Nihonjin desu ka?"

Again another long pause.

"I'm sorry...I don't speak...Visayan."

Omar was confused. He had just asked him in Japanese if he was Japanese. This Japanese did not seem to speak Japanese. Either that; or he was a wonderful actor even when only semi-conscious. And the English he spoke was not affected with any Asian accent as he would have expected.

Siti returned with the heated soup in a bowl. She gently put it to his now almost normal sized but dry cracked lips. The swelling on the face was almost totally gone, but the bruising was very dark, especially around the eyes. Considerable whisker growth darkened his complexion even further.

The Hapona was only capable of taking a few sips at a time as he could not breathe through his nose.

Omar could smell the aromas of cooking from the kitchen. Zahra had obviously been told to start cooking, and she was doing so.

"Where are you from?"

Another long pause followed. This man seemed too hairy to be Japanese, both on the body and on the face. Even though Omar knew that Yamada was the mixed blood of different races, most of that blood was Asian. He had never seen an Asian this hairy.

"Uhm. I think...no I don't know."

Zahra had put her head through the curtains to see what was going on, then, just as quickly pulled it back when she saw the frown on Omar's face cast in her direction.

"Do you have any children?"

"Yes."

"All boys?"

"No."

"What is your wife's name?"

The pause was shorter.

"No, I'm not...married, I don't think so."

Siti worked harder on the massage of the stranger's hand.

The stranger was looking at Siti massaging his hand.

"That feels...good. Thank you."

This time Omar saw Siti blush and grinned. He switched to Maranaon.

"It seems your English is better than you thought, Siti."

Siti looked at her uncle in surprise and grinned back.

"Who are you?" asked the stranger as he looked at Siti.

Siti looked at the stranger, then, looked at her uncle.

Omar nodded for her to answer.

"I'm Siti," she answered, "who are you?"

"I'm...damn. I don't know."

This time the stranger gave a little laugh.

"Isn't that crazy. I don't know."

Zahra entered the room with a small plate of fish and rice, and looked wide eyed at the stranger.

## \----------

### Iligan City - Day 5

With a larger crew to accommodate, Pater booked into the Maria Christina Hotel on the corner of Mabini and Aguinaldo Streets. As he watched them file into the lunch room, he thought about T.A. again and wondered what if anything T.A. might be eating. He realised it was a stupid thought, and how trivial that was. It was more important that he be alive.

He skipped lunch to visit the reporter, Ruben Consuelo. It was important he have the most up to date information that might narrow the area where they could start their search. His fear was still that even if they were in the right area, there was no guarantee that T.A. might be capable of helping them.

## \----------

### Maria Christina Hotel - Day 5

Pater was feeling pleased at his decision to shift to Iligan. His talk with the reporter had been revealing for both of them. The reporter had immediately accepted his cover-story that he was a mediator representing the church. For Pater, the good news was that the kidnappers had been in touch with Consuelo again and had reduced their demand to P50 million. Secondly, the note was delivered by a young child again. Thirdly, the kidnappers would use the phone for future contact with the reporter. And lastly, the kidnappers were angry that the Japanese cannery company was slow in responding to their demands.

Consuelo had passed all the information on to Daniello Seville, the accountant at Paradise Plantations. The accountant simply advised him that there were problems in raising cash funds to meet any demands. The surviving bodyguard had been reluctant to advise the location and detail of some of the overseas investments.

Pater did not tell Consuelo about his suspicion of the mistaken identity of the victim. Any early release of that information would create an obvious danger to T.A.. It was not that he did not trust the reporter with that knowledge; it was just not worth the risk. The reporter would still work diligently, and had promised Pater not to publish anything until he had spoken to Pater first in case it prejudiced the Church's mediation position. At Pater's request, he would also not advise the accountant that the church was involved. The mystery of where the Japanese was, still applied irrespective of what Pater thought might have happened.

Consuelo had already checked with the police whether they could trace any call. They could not. Those facilities were not available in Iligan.

T.A. asked the newspaper man to take the exact time of any calls. On the next call from the kidnappers he was to ask for some evidence to be delivered that they were the ones holding the Japanese. Specifically either the suit jacket or suit pants that the Japanese was wearing.

The reporter was then to telephone Pater so he could place his three teams around the newspaper office in the hope of seeing someone paying a child to take the clothing into the newspaper office.

If the clothing arrived without the kidnapper being spotted, at least having the time recorded they would probably be able to estimate how far away the victim was.

When Pater returned to the hotel, he passed the others sitting, waiting in the lobby. Pater went immediately to his room. They followed him automatically.

With his call to the VIP Hotel he asked to speak to the guard who had seen the Japanese get into Nissan the second time.

He waited while they went to find him.

Finally, the guard was on the phone.

"What colour was the suit that the Japanese was wearing the second time you saw him leave."

Pater thought for a moment that the line had been disconnected. There was a long delay.

"Brown," the guard replied.

"Thanks for you help. Can you put me back on to reception please."

"Reception here."

"Can you arrange for the guard to be taken up to room 308 and can you show him the trousers that are in the brown wrapping on the bed."

"Yes sir."

"Ask him if they were the same colour that the Japanese was wearing when he left the second time. Then please telephone me at the Maria Christina Hotel in Iligan as soon as he has seen them. Don't worry; I'll pay for the expenses."

"Yes sir."

While he was waiting for the reply, Pater showed blown up photos of T.A. to all of the helpers that did not know him. Then he told each to keep them and when they began their search to ask people if they had seen the man in the photo. Not under any circumstances to pay any money to anyone.

The hoped for ring of the phone occurred. He rushed to pick up the telephone.

"Yes'" he almost yelled down the mouthpiece.

"VIP Hotel here sir."

Calmed down a little, Pater asked; "Well? what did the guard say?"

"He said it's strange. It seems to be the same colour that the Japanese was wearing. But the trousers can't belong to the Japanese because he was wearing the same brown trousers when he left."

"Thank you very much for your help."

Pater hung up, turned and smiled to his group.

## **********

## CHAPTER 24

## STARTING OF DOUBTS

### near Linamon - Day 5

Immediately the Hapona had finished eating, he said he felt tired. Siti supplied a T-shirt filled with old clothes to serve as a pillow. The Hapona thanked her and within seconds he was into a deep sleep.

Omar Asani was confused. All the signs seemed to point to the fact that they did not have the Japanese. His cousin Salim had been there when the Japanese was dragged out of the Nissan. He surely must have recognised who he had captured. The Nissan belonged to the Japanese. The two killed were Japanese. This Japanese he had been told, not only spoke Japanese, but also several Filipino dialects, probably English as well. But this stranger only seemed to understand was English.

If this was not the Japanese, then where was the Japanese? According to their man on the spot, this was the man seen getting into the Nissan at the VIP Hotel.

Omar went to one of the two windows in the room. Neither contained glass, only rather flimsy sliding monsoon shutters. He needed to exert considerable force to slide open the shutters of the right window. Then, going to the left window, opened it too, considerably easier. At last there was now some natural light in the room. He stood there and gazed at the banana trees in the distance, and thought about what was happening.

If this stranger was not the Japanese, who was he? Why was he in Yamada's Nissan? Then, where was Yamada? Why had he not returned to his home or his work? Surely in revenge for an attempt on his life, Yamada, with his influence, would have mobilised an even stronger retaliation. Unless he did not know who was responsible.

Perhaps he was hiding in fear of his life, but nobody had seen him since they had ambushed his Nissan. Even the media were reporting him missing. His company said they were working to get the ransom money. Therefore, this had to be the Japanese. They would not be trying to raise money if it was not Yamada. Why then did he feel uncomfortable about it? He would let the stranger sleep.

## \----------

### Maria Christina Hotel, Iligan - Day 5

Pater sent the group to the room booked for Henry and Rangi. He settled onto the bed and picked up the telephone handpiece. After a long wait the operator eventually came on the line. He asked her to contact the Finance Director at Paradise Canneries Office in Cagayan de Oro, and tell him that Father O'Reilly wanted to speak to him. As expected, the operator said she would phone back as soon as she had made contact.

Pater was hoping the Director was not Muslim. His 'Catholic priest' ploy, especially as an ordained Westerner, seemed to work very easily in the Catholic areas.

He picked up the receiver after the first ring, and immediately switched into a slow speaking Irish accent.

"Father O'Reilly here. Now who would that be that I am talking to?"

"Oh Father," came the excited reply of the man on the other end of the line. "I never expected a call from a member of the Church like this. This is Daniello Seville."

"Obviously from your response my son, you're one of us."

"Oh yes Father. I attend church Mass every Sunday with my wife and children."

"Well bless you for that my son. The Church will always remain strong while it has dedicated Catholics like yourself."

"Thank you Father. What can I do for you?"

"That's what I like. A good and efficient man in finance. Straight to the point."

"Oh, I'm sorry Father I didn't mean to be rude."

"No, it's not being rude at all. I just really want to help you and all those at the factory during this terrible hour of need. You see, the Cardinal in Manila has taken a personal interest in what has happened and has sent me as his servant in this matter."

"You mean you..."

"Yes my son," Pater interrupted.

"You see he has received a request from the Prime Minister of Japan to offer our services to mediate in this problem. I was wondering then who might be handling the organising of it all and how I could get to talk to him."

"That is supposed to be me. However there has been an unforseen problem or two."

"Now then. Maybe it's a problem that we here in the Church can help with."

"I don't think so Father. It's basically an internal company problem."

"I do so much admire the skills of all you accountant types. Lord, as if I think I could understand it, but what is the trouble here?"

"I'm supposed to be in charge of finances. But Mr Yamada tends to make his own rules. With his personal assistant he arranges transfers of money to overseas investments, then, he doesn't keep good records of where it is."

"Ooh, I see. Can't the personal assistant help? Who is it and where is he?

"That's Mr Ueda, Father. He's Mr Yamada's personal assistant. Well that's what we have to call him. But really he's a sort of a bodyguard."

"We all have the Lord looking out for us. But there is no shame in having extra help. Where may I speak with Mr Ueda?"

"He's not here at the moment. He only calls in on a mobile phone."

"Isn't the wonder of science marvellous. We can be anywhere in the world now-a-days and talk on the phone even without all those wires. What is the number that I can contact Mr Ueda on?"

"Father; it's Mr Yamada's private mobile number. I'm not allowed to give it out."

'Interesting' thought Pater. 'Why didn't Yamada have the phone with him when he was kidnapped?'

"I don't want to get you into any trouble then. Perhaps I should call on Mr Ueda. Where is he?"

"He says he's busy at the moment attending to some urgent and important work at Paradise Plantation. I find his attitude unbelievable. Surely this kidnapping is more important."

"I'm just here to help however I can. I don't want to disturb him. The Cardinal will be disappointed he won't be able to phone Mr Ueda with his offer of support. I'm sure the Prime Minister of Japan will understand too."

"Father. I'm sure this is a special case. Do you have a pen? I'll give you the number."

## \----------

### Paradise Plantations - Day 5

Ueda watched the graders as they cleared the area they were told. Nothing had been accidentally uncovered so far. They were clearing the area faster than both he and Yamada would be able to cover with their metal detectors even if they were both working all night.

He knew that Yamada would be sleeping back in the nipa hut. Ueda had wanted to return to the hut to tell Yamada about the telephone call he had received on the mobile from the Irish Catholic priest, offering to mediate. He decided against it. Immediately after getting the call he had telephoned the Finance Director and told him he was not to give the number to anyone else. After the heated discussion about who was now in control of finances, Ueda switched off the phone while Seville was still talking.

Ueda wondered how long it would be before the body of the foreman started to smell in this muggy heat. He doubted Yamada was disturbed at the presence of the body which they had dragged into the corner, and covered with roofing iron. He knew that as soon as he got back to the hut he would be expected to bury it. Somewhere that Yamada hoped would never be found. If Yamada was ever linked to the killing, there were extradition treaties between Japan and the Philippines. Though, Yamada's money would probably buy him out of the Philippines end of that problem.

Would Yamada say Ueda had done it? It was Ueda's GP35 Hi-Power 9mm Browning that Yamada had used. That was supposed to be untraceable. He knew there were never any guarantees to that. No, he would have to bury that too; as far away from the body as possible. That would only leave him with his little .22 Colt Woodsman to which he also had a silencer fitted. That was still hidden in the nipa hut.

He felt sure now that his career with Yamada was rapidly coming to a close.

## \----------

### Maria Christina Hotel - Day 5

Pater could occasionally hear the singing of the national anthems. When it went quiet he was sure Henry and Rangi would be taking them over the use of the r/t's and mobile phones once again. Henry and Rangi both knew that equipment failure was beyond their control. Lack of knowledge about an item on which they could train was not.

The telephone rang. It was the reporter, Ruben Consuelo. He had received a call from the kidnappers, and he requested the clothing as evidence. The kidnappers had agreed.

He also asked how long before he would get the evidence. The caller had only responded, "as long as it takes."

Consuelo went on, "I suspect that the man I spoke to is a local. He mixed his speech in Visayan and Maranao. But that doesn't mean he lives in Iligan. He could be non-city."

"Congratulations, you really know your stuff," said Pater.

"Thanks. But that wasn't just my opinion. The police have a man here permanently. He was the one who thought the man was a local."

"There's one more thing, from his phrasing and use of words I'm pretty sure he's Muslim. One thing that I know for sure; he really hates Yamada."

"You think Yamada's life it at risk then?"

"Definitely. If he's still alive now, I don't think he will be once the payment of the ransom is made. I know for sure he's really getting annoyed. The company is delaying everything and making excuses."

"Perhaps that gives an excuse to ask for evidence that he is still alive at some later time."

"Just what I've been thinking. The guy wants us to publish that the company is delaying payment. What do you think?"

"Probably a good idea. It'll give him faith in you if you do."

"I'll get it run then."

"Thanks again. I'll let you know everything we do." Pater hung up and was pleased with what he had heard. Consuelo was using his reporters' investigative skills the right way. He did not want to tell Consuelo why he thought the company was delaying. The police might have been listening.

Pater knew that the length of time to delivery of the clothing would give them two possibilities. One was that the caller had simply telephoned someone else to deliver the items, or he had to go and fetch them himself. It would probably be the latter if he was keeping T.A. outside the city area. There are very few private phones.

With this in mind, he suggested a series of non-intrusive questions for the reporter to ask the kidnapper next time he called, in the hope of finding out whether he went to get the clothing himself or had it delivered.

After hanging up he went to the room where the group were gathered and repeated what the reporter had told him. He told them to do their ablutions quickly as it could be a long wait before the next opportunity. Then, meet him downstairs in five minutes.

He nodded to Henry and Rangi to follow him. He explained what he had learned from the secretary and about Ueda.

In five minutes, the jeepney collected them, and a few minutes later dropped them all off near the newspaper office to start their watching brief. He knew that despite Henry and Rangi's size, they would be inconspicuous. The others? he just had to hope for the best.

## \----------

### near Linamon - Day 5

Omar passed through the curtains and waved the girls to come and stand next to him.

"I'm not sure what is happening here, but I don't think that man in there is the Japanese Yamada."

Zahra looked amazed. Siti smiled. Omar thought that was strange, but let it pass.

"Therefore I don't want you to tell anyone that he has regained consciousness. I know he's sleeping now, but don't tell anyone. I don't mean for you to be disrespectful to your Father, but he must not know. Not yet anyway."

Both girls now had looks of curiosity on their face.

"I want to be able to ask the man some more questions. Even though he can't remember anything at the moment, I hope to learn something."

"But what happens if Father returns?" asked Siti.

"If the stranger is awake, then we'll have to tell him he's just woken. If he is sleeping, then we'll say nothing."

The girls nodded their agreement.

Satisfied he had their promise, Omar returned through the curtain. He placed the set square flat on one of the thick jeepney windscreens lying on the floor, and began to scratch his fishing knife lightly down the line of the set square. He was not concerned about any noise he might make. If the stranger was unconscious, the noise did not matter. If he was sleeping as part of his recovery, it would be a deep sleep anyway.

## **********

## CHAPTER 25

## REALISATION

### Iligan - Day 5

Pater had told his group what to look for. He did not know how long they would have to wait. Staying in groups would be of little use, he had to spread his resources as wide as possible, close, but not too close to the front of the newspaper offices. If anyone saw clothing or a parcel being given to a child and money change hands, then the observer had to try and get the attention of at least one of the others, then try and follow the suspect without attracting attention to themselves.

Pater confidence in the abilities of all, but Henry and Rangi, was low.

He knew that the longer the wait was, the less would be the enthusiasm of the others. But wait they must. It was perhaps their best chance, if not their only chance.

## \----------

### near Linamon - Day 5

Salim was pleased and annoyed at the same time. He was pleased because at least the reporter seemed to have taken the lead in getting the ransom money. He was annoyed because he had to go back to Linamon to get the Japanese' suit.

At least them wanting evidence that he was holding the Japanese was positive. Who had wanted the evidence? The company, or the reporter? So far, the company hardly seemed interested. Maybe they did not believe he was holding Yamada.

Salim forced open the jammed door of his house and ran up the noisy steps.

The two girls jumped up in fright at the sudden noise. Their faces expressed surprise at seeing their Father. Omar came rushing out of the bedroom to see what was happening.

"I wasn't expecting to see you back already," said Omar.

"They want proof we're holding that animal. I feel like cutting off his head to give them proof. That'd be the best evidence."

"What do they want?"

"His clothes. Has he woken up yet?"

"Just flickering in the eyes."

Salim turned on the girls. "Where did you put those clothes."

Siti quickly picked up a tied plastic bag from the floor and gave it to her Father. Salim undid the knot and opened the bag.

"Wow, what a stink." Salim decided it would easier to sell the trousers. He pulled those out of the bag, threw them at Siti, retied the bag with the jacket inside, and left carrying it.

Omar, Siti and Zahra all looked at each other, then, looked skywards. They were all relieved that Salim had not checked the bedroom.

Omar returned through the curtains without even glancing at the figure lying on the tarpaulin. His mind was fixed on carrying on with his work.

The unexpected voice startled him.

"Visitors?"

He looked at the stranger.

"Yes. They've gone already." The stranger's English was so clear. Definitely no American accent.

"Why am I chained like this?"

Omar approached close to the stranger and crouched. He was close enough to give the feeling of intimacy, but far enough away to move quickly if the stranger made a sudden lunge for him.

"Do you know who you are yet?"

Again he watched the stranger screw up his face and put his free hand to his forehead.

"I can't think. I know I know, I just can't remember it at the moment."

"Is your name Ken Yamada?"

"Yamada's a Japanese name."

"I know."

"I know I'm not Japanese. Looking at you, and listening to the way you talk, you're a Filipino. But where in the Philippines am I?"

"Don't you remember anything?"

"I've been trying. I presume I am in the Philippines, you are Filipino, I can see coconut trees through the window and I've heard some fighting cocks. Why won't you tell me anything?"

Omar changed from a crouch to a sitting position. He felt secure enough that he was not going to be attacked.

"If only you could remember something, then I could tell you much more."

The stranger looked at him blankly.

"What sport do you play? Omar asked."

"None now, I used to play rugby, that was years ago though. That's rugby union, not rugby league."

"What's rugby?"

"Why did I remember that when I still can't even remember my name?"

"Who are your favourite teams?"

"The All Blacks and the Wallabies."

"I haven't heard of them. They're not basketball or baseball teams."

"No. The All Blacks are the New Zealand national rugby team and the Wallabies are the Australian national team."

"Are you married?"

"I don't think so."

Omar grinned. "Did you come here to get a Filipino wife?"

"No. Yes. No. I seem to remember meeting someone, but not this time. It was before I think. Where is my money belt? I'm sure there is something in there that'll identify me."

Omar got up and stuck his head out through the curtains. He spoke in Maranao to ask the girls about the money belt. They both nodded in the negative. He returned to the stranger's side again.

"What was in the money belt?"

"Money I think, and credit cards."

"Why did you need them?"

"I was going to buy something. I just can't remember what."

"You told me before that you had children. How many?

"Yes, I do." There was a long pause again. "God, I can't remember. That was when I was married."

"Why? Aren't you married anymore?"

"I don't know."

The stranger put his free hand to his head again.

"I'm getting this headache again."

"Can you eat some more, then perhaps you'd better sleep again." Omar called out to Siti. She entered the room less than a minute later with a small plate of fish and rice and a spoon that had been bent wildly out of shape.

With a little difficulty, the stranger sat up. The arm and leg chains restricted his movement sideways.

Siti was feeding the stranger as though she was spoon feeding a baby, wiping his chin after each mouthful.

Omar watched as the stranger took each mouthful, occasionally wincing in pain at something or other.

"What's wrong?"

"My jaw is sore and I think my tongue must be cut. Sometimes I can feel cuts inside my mouth too. Do you have any disprin or codeine."

"No."

The stranger kept rubbing his forehead between mouthfuls. With the plate still half full, and just before Siti was about to insert another spoonful, his eyes began to lose focus and he passed out, collapsing back toward the floor. Siti dropped the plate and spoon and managed to catch him, then eased the stranger's head slowly onto the pillow she had made.

Omar nodded to Siti. She quickly cleaned the mess off the floor and left the room.

Omar continued the scoring on the windscreens, though with a little more pressure as he now had a slight indentation to guide the knife. While he was scoring deeper into the glass he started to wonder who might have taken the stranger's money belt. If he could find it, it might answer the questions that had been troubling him.

## \----------

### Iligan - Day 5

Pater stood with Marivic and passed the time with small talk while they watched the approaches to the doors of the newspaper office. Because of his being 'Americano', he elected to keep Marivic with him as an aid to reduce the attention grabbing demands of street hawkers. Though he had noticed they were fewer in number in Mindanao.

They had been waiting and watching nearly two hours. It was almost two and a half since the phone call.

Pater began to worry that perhaps he was standing in a no reception area for his mobile phone. He checked it. The indicator showed he was getting a strong signal.

Obviously the reporter had neither heard from the kidnappers nor received any clothing as evidence. He was not sure whether the kidnapper had become suspicious for some reason, and had not shown up.

He wanted to tell the reporter to pass on the message to advise the kidnappers that a Father O'Reilly had been sent from Manila to help in the negotiation. But he did not want to tie up the line in case the kidnapper called. He would wait until the clothes had been delivered. He was sure that soon after that, the kidnapper would phone.

He pulled Marivic out of the way of a dirty little urchin running between the pedestrians while swinging an equally dirty plastic bag. Seemingly without looking, the child ran across the road dodging the traffic as though he was playing a game. Pater wondered how any parent could let a seven or eight year old run around like that. He judged from the dirt on the legs and face that perhaps the child was a street orphan anyway.

When he saw the child make a beeline for the front door of the newspaper office, he swore silently to himself. The child pushed open the door and went in. Within seconds, he was out again, without the plastic bag. He had not hung around to be asked questions, and was running as fast as his skinny legs could carry him in the direction away from Pater.

The mobile phone on his hip rang. Several people nearby looked at him immediately it rang. Mobile phones were still a novelty in this area. Pater pushed the answer button and put the phone to his ear.

"Yes?"

"Ruben Consuelo here. A kid just dropped off a plastic bag containing a jacket. No note or anything, just a dirty jacket."

"If the kidnapper calls, tell him a Father O'Reilly has been sent from Manila to negotiate the payment of the ransom and the release. I'll check to see if anyone spotted anything. Then I'll come in and look at the jacket."

"I hope you've got a strong stomach, it stinks,"

Pater soon gathered in Henry and Rangi, and within minutes they had circulated nearby. Everyone was accounted for, nobody was following any suspects and nobody had seen anything unusual.

With Marivic, Nilo, Henry and Rangi standing next to him he gritted his teeth and quietly said, "Shit, shit, shit."

His nearby group remained silent.

"I'm going into the newspaper office for a short time. Hang around. We'll go back to the hotel as soon as I've talked with Consuelo.

When Pater undid the retied plastic bag and pulled the jacket out, he understood why the reporter had quickly tied it up again. Even the policeman standing behind Consuelo still had his face screwed up.

"Jesus, this is the same colour as.......," Pater stopped quickly, realising that he nearly disclosed too much information. He quickly checked the pockets, inside and out. Finally, he re-checked the top chest pocket and touched something. Extracting it, he saw there were five or six personal business cards, damp and blood soaked. They gave T.A.'s New Zealand and Australian details. He slipped those into his own pocket when he was not being watched.

"As dirty as it is, it's the same colour as the guard at the VIP said. The bastards have got Yamada alright."

His real thoughts wondered how badly T.A. was injured. Obviously the clothes proved a loss of bladder control, and he know that only happened with death on deep concussion. But which was it?

Pater went on, "It does smell a bit. Stale urine. But what worries me is all this blood. Not too much, but enough to show there has been some violence. I hope the poor bugger is O.K."

"What do you want me to do?" asked the reporter.

"The Father O'Reilly bit as I mentioned. Then say you have to contact Yamada's office for instructions, and for them to send someone to identify the jacket as Yamada's. But you are now worried that Yamada might already be dead because of all the blood on the jacket. Get the picture?"

"Right, I can play that."

Pater thanked him again, and made his way to the jeepney for the return trip to the hotel. Rangi and Henry looked at him questioningly.

"Yeah. They've definitely got T.A."

## **********

## CHAPTER 26

## CHANGES TO PLANS

### Maria Christina Hotel, Iligan - Day 5

Many people were already having their evening meal when the group returned to the hotel. Pater nodded at Nilo, then toward the restaurant. The Filipinos' did not need a second invitation and immediately went in. Henry and Rangi followed Pater to his room.

"Definitely T.A.'s jacket," said Pater. "The same colour and material as the trousers at VIP. From the spattering of blood I guess he's hurt. How badly I don't know. Why the clothes are urine soaked, who knows? But the proof for me is these." He pulled the business cards from his pocket and showed them. "If it had been just one, then it could've been Yamada, but any business-man carries several."

"If he was dead the bladder would empty," suggested Henry.

"Pessimist."

"Sorry."

"Or deeply unconscious," offered Rangi.

"Unconscious is what I'm hoping for Rangi. Or maybe someone lse pissed on him to insult or belittle him."

Pater told Henry and Rangi about his contact with Yamada's company accountant and with Ueda.

"There is no love lost between Seville and Ueda. It seems Seville is aggro about the unofficial financial control Ueda has even though he isn't a director."

"Maybe we should visit this Ueda fella," said Rangi. Maybe he can be persuaded to sort of 'help us with our inquiries'," he went on with a grin.

"Yeah. We'll have to find out where the plantation is. Then Father O'Reilly will..," the phone interrupted. Pater quickly picked it up. All Henry and Rangi heard was a series of 'Yes'.

As soon as he hung up, Pater confirmed it was the reporter, and the kidnapper had phoned. He had done as Pater asked, and although the kidnapper was aggravated he had accepted the delays. Also, the reporter believed that the kidnapper had gone to retrieve the clothing himself.

"We've gotta find out tonight where this Paradise Plantation is. Probably too late to visit it now, but it'll be on for tomorrow. I'll get Nilo and his mates onto that. Then I'd better find some shirt with a collar I can reverse."

## \----------

### near Linamon - Day 5

Omar Asani had continued to work on his 'special project', only occasionally looking over at the stranger.

One time, when he looked up, he saw the stranger was watching what he was doing.

"So, the sleepy man wakes up."

"What are you making?"

"It'll be a surprise for my wife, if I can increase my income. Well, more for me really. I try and catch fish to sell in the local markets. I'm trying to increase the amounts I can catch. Anyway, how are you?"

"Not bad. Headaches gone. But I really need to have a pee. And I wouldn't mind the other either."

Omar pointed to a bucket.

"I saw that, but it's out of reach. I can't stand anyway with the chains."

"I'll loosen the wrist chain a bit."

Omar moved closer, keeping a wary eye on the stranger.

"Have you remembered who you are yet?"

"No, but I think I've been to Sydney. Something about New Zealand keeps coming into my mind too."

"New Zealand. Good butter. There, I've removed the chain from the wrist manacle. Now it's only your ankles holding you. I'll take the risk. But listen, the man who brought you here is more interested in killing you. So when he returns, we've got to act quickly and put the wrist chain back on quickly."

The stranger nodded his agreement, and reached across to grab the bucket. He was thankful to see it had a lid.

"Any toilet paper?"

Omar pointed his lips toward some old newspaper and nodded his head.

"I'll let you have five minutes to yourself to do what you want to do," then he left the room.

The stranger was thankful for his privacy, but his constipation was not helped by pains in his stomach muscles. He realised that he must have been kicked there too. By the time Omar had returned he had finished and placed the top back on the bucket.

"Feeling better?"

"Yes. Thanks for the privacy. I remembered I was in Cagayan de Oro a couple of days ago."

"More than that," Omar responded. "You've been here five days."

The stranger looked confused. "But I've only just got here from Manila."

Omar stared at the stranger. "Where did you learn your English?"

"At school I suppose. That's silly, from my Mum and Dad I guess. I remember trying to learn French in my first year of High School. I changed courses fairly quickly. I couldn't figure it out."

"Where did you get the money to buy your Nissan Patrol?"

"No, I've got a Honda Prelude. Why did I remember that? It's white."

Siti came through the curtain carrying another plate of fish and rice and the same bent spoon. The stranger looked at her as she gave him the plate.

"I think I saw you in a dream,"

Siti blushed and quickly went back out through the curtains before Omar could notice.

"Are the two girls your daughters?"

"No. All my precious ones are at home with their Mother. These girls are from the loins of the man who would wish you were dead, and might still kill you."

The thought made the stranger shudder despite the muggy heat.

"Why does he hate me?"

"He has many reasons, any of which would be a just cause for any right thinking man."

"What did I do to him?"

"He has taken on board the responsibility to get revenge for all the things your ancestors have done to our family since 1942."

The stranger put his hands to his head and rubbed his fingers into his scalp.

"I don't know what you mean. What the Hell is going on?"

"Your Grandfather murdered nearly all of the generation of his and my Grandfather. The only one to escape the slaughter was our Grandmother with her young children."

"But why would my Grandfather do that?"

"To make sure there were no witnesses to where he had buried the Spanish treasures and other gold he had stolen from many of the people around here before he murdered them."

"No. I mean how. Not even that. I don't think my Grandfather had even heard of the Philippines. It's a long way from New Zealand."

"That is something we have to find out. My cousin thinks you are a Japanese called Ken Yamada."

"Do I look Japanese?"

"I won't show you a mirror."

"I've heard that name before."

"Because it's your name?"

"No. I know it's not, but I've been trying to think, and I can't remember. It'll be in my money pouch."

"For now though, my cousin wants to kill you for what your factory security guards did to his wife when they raided his house to look for equipment stolen from the cannery."

The stranger shook his head in disbelief.

"Your security men tied up his daughters and made them watch while all five or six of them raped their Mother. Salim couldn't go near her or bear to touch her after that. She felt so much shame that she committed suicide a few months later. Salim was also the one to see her hanging from a tree. It was a group of young children that found her hanging. Salim had also been sacked from his job on the same day. You sacked him."

The stranger rubbed his fingers into his eyes and forehead. "I didn't. Oh my God. Those poor kids. I can't believe this is happening."

"You see, I have something worrying me at the moment too. I don't think you are Japanese. But you were in the Japanese Patrol. Why?"

"I don't know."

"Maybe we should talk about something else." With that Omar went back to working on his mystery project. He lit his gas lamp. The sun had begun to set

## \----------

### Paradise Plantation - Day 5

Ueda had many things on his mind as he walked the kilometre from the site of the clearing work to the nipa hut where Yamada was hiding.

He entered and looked at Yamada. For some reason he could not understand, he did not bow as he had always done in the past.

"Tired Ueda?"

"Yes Yamada san."

"Just one more job before you go to bed. I will help. We will put the body of this assassin in the spare Patrol and bury him deep in the earth of the cleared area. I will get the shovels, But, first your cup of tea which I have prepared. Sit a while. Then we will get rid of this body. I will cook dinner and you can sleep while I do my search to make us both rich."

Ueda said nothing, but noticed he was bowing deeply in respect. He was suddenly wishing he was not.

## \----------

### Maria Christina Hotel - Day 5

Nilo had found a location for Paradise Plantations. The problem had been getting any type of map of the area. There was no side road indicated on any of the maps where the plantation was meant to be. But one of Nilo's cousins remembered that a friend had once worked there on road clearing. Pater took Nilo and his cousin to visit the friend, and he marked a line where he thought the side road was. He also told about the storage sheds, side garage and the nearby nipa hut.

Nilo had asked him to accompany Pater the next day. He could not as he would lose his job as a truck driver delivering coca cola to the sari-sari stores.

Pater though was pleased at the information. Plans had started to form in his mind.

## **********

## CHAPTER 27

## FATHER O'REILLY VISITS

### near Linamon - Day 6

The moonlight was enough to distinguish shapes and to see where items were. Siti heard her uncle sneak silently out of the house about an hour before sunrise. She knew he would only be away for as long as it took him to catch enough fish. That meant at least two hours. Zahra was sleeping as only she could. Siti knew she could check on this stranger without any fear of interruption. She tugged at the bottom of the t-shirt she was wearing to make sure it hid the panties beneath.

She passed through the curtains and looked at the stranger in his underwear. He was lying on his side for the first time; previously he had always been on his back. Now, lying on his left side, his left arm was outstretched using it as a pillow for his head.

She wanted to lie beside him, but with the stranger having regained consciousness, the circumstances had changed. She listened as he moaned softly and she felt her need to feel his arms around her.

Perhaps the stranger had slipped back into a coma. If she was careful, perhaps she could lay on his arm without disturbing or waking him. Quietly she lowered herself to the floor, put the left side of her face on his arm and lay on her left side to mirror the strangers body.

It still did not feel right. She moved back slightly and nestled into the warm body. The moaning stopped. She got ready to spring up if the stranger woke. Within seconds the stranger began breathing deeply and she relaxed.

She jerked her body in fright when the stranger put his right arm over her and moved his body in closer. It felt nice to be held cuddled closely like this. She thought of two spoons in a drawer. His breath passed over her ear and she began to feel the same aches between her legs that she felt before.

As much as she wanted him, she knew she could not control the situation as before. She would have to content herself with this feeling of warmth and want. Then she felt the strength of the strangers 'thing' pushing into the flesh of her buttocks. She reached her right hand around and gently lowered the stranger's underwear and felt the hard muscle in her hands. Then lowering her own panties, she snuggled in even closer.

## \----------

### Paradise Plantations - Day 6

It was a kilometre slightly downhill from the machine shed and nipa hut to the site being cleared. Though he was walking slowly, Ueda was there before he was aware of it. The sudden starting of machinery to his left, on the ground already cleared, was all that stopped him from walking past. His mind was distracted trying to think what Yamada's future plans might be. The workmen never started until Ueda arrived.

This time he chose a shaded place, a little further away from the action than he had previously done. It was near the rough road, within sight of the activity of the graders and other heavy equipment, yet still far enough away to allow his mind to drift off without too much distraction.

He thought of the irony in last night's activity. While he was burying the Grandson's legacy from the shooting, the Grandson was sweeping the newly cleared area with his metal detector to dig up the legacy from his Grandfather.

He had buried the body in an area that the heavy equipment would have to use frequently. That way, the soil would pack down hard. Too hard for the body to be easily found or accidentally uncovered

Ueda went back to the nipa hut, washed himself thoroughly, ate some rice, then lay on the floor mattress. His mind began to worry over details. When he thought about burying his pistol, he realised that Yamada, using his metal detector, might find where he had buried it. So he decided he would bury it away from the newly cleared area. Before that he would disassemble it into as many parts as possible and bury them in as many areas as there were parts.

From Yamada's early morning ill temper, it was obvious he had again failed to locate his Grandfather's buried legacy.

The approach of one of the workmen snapped him out of his daydream. He asked where the foreman was. It was now the second day he had not appeared. Ueda told the workman that the foreman had said something about his wife having gone to visit her parents in Zamboanga. He had not seen him since then.

When the morning sun rose higher, Ueda shifted his position and began sitting where he could see both the approach road from the highway and the workmen clearing the forest. He was not expecting any traffic, so when he saw a dirty green jeepney slowly bounce its way along the road toward the newly cleared area he stood up. The jeepney had only the driver in the front seat. Three people were seated in the back.

When the jeepney began to pass his position, he ran after it, yelling for it to stop. He could not risk anyone stumbling onto where Yamada was hiding and probably asleep.

The jeepney stopped, and Ueda ran to the driver's window on the left. As he was about to ask the driver where he was going, one of the passengers spoke with an Irish accent, which he had not heard since his time in the United Kingdom.

"I don't suppose you could tell me where I might find Mr Ueda?"

Ueda looked at the speaker. The man was European, and wearing a black shirt and white clergyman's collar.

"I'm Ueda."

"I'm very pleased to meet you at last, I'm Father O'Reilly. We spoke briefly on the phone."

Ueda looked at the other two sitting in the back with the priest. They were two very well built Filipinos. They each nodded an acknowledgment at his look.

"I think perhaps you may have misunderstood our Church's offer of help Mr Ueda," the Irish priest went on. "You see, your Japanese Government was so concerned that they contacted the Vatican to ask if His Holiness could intercede and assist wherever the Catholic Church could to help get Mr Yamada back."

Ueda nodded. He did not like this unexpected complication. Any further outside intrusion could cause pressure for a settlement of the ransom money, which Yamada obviously did not intend to pay.

"Please be assured that I am doing all I can Father."

"I am sure you are, my son. I understand that your Government is prepared to help you with a loan should there be a problem with short term realisation of cash."

"That is not necessary."

"I did not think it would be. From the lack of any panic at your bank I presume you have the funds already in hand?"

"We are almost ready."

"When are you next making contact with the kidnappers?"

"Soon I think."

"How are you getting your messages to them?"

"I can't tell you. If I do, it might put Yamada San's life at risk. Father, I really must ask you to not help at this stage. Perhaps I can call on you when we need to deliver the money."

"We are always willing to help, just as we help all of those in need. I gave you my contact number."

"Thank you Father, but I must insist you return now to your hotel. Just as I must wait here until the kidnappers contact me." Ueda waved his arms at a flat part of the cleared area. "Your driver can turn around here. Goodbye Father." Ueda tapped the roof of the jeepney, and the driver started the engine and turned the vehicle around without waiting for instructions from the Father in the back.

The jeepney started its trip back toward the highway.

Ueda bowed respectfully as the jeepney pulled away, then settled back in his shaded spot under the tree.

## \----------

### near Linamon - Day 6

Omar returned four hours after sunrise with his assortment of fish. After tossing them on the bench, he passed through the curtains and saw Siti and Zahra sitting looking at the stranger who was also sitting up and looking back at them. An empty soup bowl was on the floor between them.

"So, this is why the household chores are not done eh," said Omar in English. "You girls will do anything to avoid your jobs."

"My fault, I'm sorry," said the stranger. "After another delicious feed of soup, somehow we drifted into English lessons. We've just been covering commonly used phrases."

The uncle said nothing, just nodded his head once in the girls' direction, and they both stood up and left the room.

"Have you remembered anything more?"

"Yes, when I was talking to the girls. It was something that was said. I told them that sometimes instead of saying thanks, you might say ta. Then Siti asked me to spell it. It is spelt T.A. I remembered, that is my nickname, T.A. But I still can't remember my family name."

Omar nodded. "I'm not sure whether that's good or bad. I don't know when Salim is coming back. The local papers are still reporting you, if you are the Japanese, as missing. But if you are not the Japanese then where is he?"

"He had to do some business somewhere, that's why he sent us on to Marawi. I remember he was going to take me to his pawn shops. We had been to his tailors in Cagayan de Oro where I had two suits made. I know I had quite a lot of money in my pouch to buy things from his pawn shop."

"What was the name of the tailor shop?"

"I can't remember."

"Was it Ari's?"

"Yes. I think it was."

Omar screwed up his face. "And when the Japanese got out, where was it that he got out?"

"I don't know. What I mean is I don't know the name of the place. He said he had some business to do."

"Was he by himself."

"No, the big Japanese that spoke good English got out too."

"What should I call you?"

"T.A. I suppose."

Omar called out, and Siti appeared through the curtains. He spoke rapidly with her and she flashed a quick smile in T.A's direction before she ran off quickly.

"I've sent her off to find out who among our group seems to have come into some money. I'll also check with Ari. In the meantime, you'll be safer here with me."

"I stink. Can I clean up?"

"Tonight, you can take a bath."

Omar linked several chains and then attached the new chain to T.A.'s right leg manacle. He undid the chain on T.A's left leg.

"There, at least now you can walk around a bit. Still not enough to reach the window, but I don't want you to be seen."

"What if I call for help?"

"Then my relations and friends all around this place would think the Japanese had recovered consciousness and come in. They might enjoy beating you up again. They would think they were beating up the Japanese. Nobody from this village likes him."

"But I'll tell them who I am."

"Not many people here speak English."

"I'll keep quiet then."

"Your life depends on it."

With that, Omar restarted working on his 'surprise project'.

T.A. watched for a while, with varying interest as Omar the set square to ensure his cutting was accurate. He was scoring a set line into thick glass with his fishing knife. T.A's thoughts were more about his own situation than on what Omar was doing. He walked toward the window.

## \----------

### Maria Christina Hotel, Iligan - Day 6

"Well, that was a whole lot of bullshit from that Ueda fella," said Pater.

"You weren't doing too badly with the Irish bullshit yourself 'Father'," said Rangi.

"I'd liked to have gone further up that road and checked out the shed and the other buildings we've been told about. It might need a late night visit."

Pater watched his two companions nod their agreement.

"You two get something to eat. Meet me back here in an hour with all the others, and bring me some toasted sandwiches. I've got some phone calls to make."

**********

## CHAPTER 28

## NIGHT RECONNAISSANCE

### Paradise Plantation - Day 6

Yamada wanted to be sure that he could still get more time out of the kidnappers. He instructed Ueda to phone Daniello Seville, the Finance Director, to reinforce the pretence of readying money to pay the ransom.

As he had done many times before on behalf of Yamada, Ueda phoned the normally servile and obliging Seville. Ueda asked for the current balances of all the local accounts, and the values of the Philippines shares held.

"Mr Ueda," said Seville. "You must know that under the company's Articles and Memorandum, you have no authority to ask for this information."

Ueda was silent for a moment.

"I need this information to ensure the ransom money is available for the kidnappers."

"I don't care what you think you need Mr Ueda, the kidnappers are dealing through me. It seems you are only hindering my efforts. I only ever gave you information before because I knew Mr Yamada wanted it."

Ueda wanted to tell him that Yamada wanted it now, but knew he could not.

"What the kidnappers want is for me to deal with it," Seville went on. "They have been contacting me, not you."

"I am trying to be helpful Mr Seville and am acting in a manner I'm sure Yamada San would wish me to act had he been here."

"Perhaps, but the reporter Consuelo has become a helpful intermediary while I am trying to track down funds," Seville carried on.

Ueda wanted to suggest to Seville that he should be trying to track down new employment because when Yamada reappeared, Seville would either be unemployed or dead.

"And if you know anything about where these overseas investments are that Mr Yamada has made, it would be helpful."

Ueda knew that if Seville went on much longer, he would invite him to the plantation and personally remove his head.

"I think this discussion is going nowhere Mr Seville. I will phone you again tomorrow, and I will expect the information I requested to be available.

He had barely pushed the button to end the call when yet another Iriquois helicopter passed overhead. Ueda wondered what real purpose these overflights would achieve. There was nothing they could learn from them except a display of muscle-flexing by the armed forces.

It seemed the search by the Armed Forces of the Philippines (AFP) for the kidnappers of the Japanese was being upgraded. The Manila Government must have been feeling pressure from Tokyo. Even though Yamada was Filipino by birth, his family's influence inside Japan's political arena was strong.

Ueda also knew that the Catholic dominated AFP in this area would willingly assist. They would use any excuse to ferret out any Muslim dissenters, and use any reason to kill them.

That was not his problem. He was enjoying being away from Yamada. Just sitting and doing nothing.

## \----------

### Maria Christina Hotel, Iligan - Day 6

"The reporter says the kidnapper phoned," said Pater. "Consuelo told him that the accountant had not yet seen the jacket, but he would know tomorrow if the suit belonged to the Japanese. After that our problems start to get complicated if we can't get any leads. Nilo, have you or your friends found anything out?"

"Muslims don't tell Catholics their secrets. Catholics don't trust the Muslims either," replied Nilo.

"How can you tell who is what?"

"We know. So do they."

"One nation, indivisible?" grinned Henry.

"One country, many self interests," replied Pater.

"Aren't you all Filipinos'?" asked Rangi.

"Some in Mindanao are Filipinos, some are Mindanaons. And even some who are just Muslims; though there are many Muslims ready to share power with Catholics in an independent Mindanao," replied Nilo. That is why many people here want independence from Manila. Manila robs the resources for Manila and encourages the fight between Catholic and Muslim here."

"Nilo," interrupted Pater quite forcefully, "This is no bloody holiday. I want you to take Henry with you and find out anything you can from the officer who went to the scene where the kidnapping took place. Also find out if the police know anything that we don't know. Say you are helping Ruben Consuelo, the reporter investigating the case. I'll set it up for Consuelo to say you are helping him. If the officer speaks English, let Henry do the talking, otherwise be guided by Henry. And get your friends out to ask around, Muslims and Catholics. Meeting back here at 6:30 p.m."

Nobody questioned Pater when he had that sort of power in his voice. Within minutes, only Pater, Rangi and Marivic were left in the room.

## \----------

### Paradise Plantation - Day 6

Seville phoned Ueda late in the afternoon with the information he had requested about the balances in the accounts. Then to keep the 'cover' current, he telephoned the reporter and told him that the funds were almost ready but they had to wait for money to be remitted from some accounts in Singapore, Kuala Lumpur and Manila, to their company account in Cagayan de Oro City.

Ueda pondered on whether to phone the priest with the same story, but decided it could wait. He did not want to encourage interference.

The workmen switched off their machines about thirty minutes before sunset, mounted their motor bikes or climbed into their assorted means of personal transport, and departed.

It was barely dark by the time Ueda got back to the nipa hut. The moon had not yet had time to dominate the last rays of the set sun.

When he entered the hut, Yamada handed him a cup of lemon tea.

"How long before they will finish?" Yamada asked.

"A bit longer than we first thought, maybe two days, not more than three. There is more rough ground than we thought."

Yamada showed his disapproval by smacking his fist into his hand.

"With this damn Filipino way of life, they will make this job last as long as they can. I should have paid them for the job not by the hour."

Yamada told him about the visit from the Catholic priest, the problems he was having with Seville, and the concern being shown by Tokyo in asking the Vatican to help.

"That pious little man will suffer a fatal accident when I return. I don't care if he is a distant relation of my wife."

Ueda could not prevent himself grinning.

"As for the church, we don't want their help. They will interfere. No, hang on. Maybe it can help. Tell them you might ask them to be ready to exchange the money for the hostage, when we are ready of course."

Ueda nodded.

"More rice, this time with tinned beef, is ready for you. I want to start early tonight. Maybe this is the night eh?" Yamada patted Ueda on the back.

Ueda nodded again.

Yamada picked up his metal detector and left. Ueda was once again pleased to be alone.

## \----------

### near Linamon - Day 6

T.A. had watched Omar work on his 'surprise' throughout the day, interspersed by long periods of gazing out the window. Now only restricted by the leg chain, he helped Omar where he could, or was asked to help. Though it felt strange helping to work on something which he didn't know exactly what it was.

Omar had been grooving the hard wooden sides of the ammunition boxes with the precision of a jeweller; the last three hours under the poor lighting of the gas lamp.

He stopped and looked up at T.A. "I suppose you'd like that bath now."

T.A. knew the uncontrolled grin on his own face was all the answer that Omar was looking for.

"O.K., but just in case you get tempted to try and run off, even in your weakened state, I'll have to put chains on those leg manacles. Just long enough for you to make small steps and get down the stairs."

T.A. watched without objection as Omar linked a chain between the manacles he had on each leg. Then he removed the long chain that had allowed him to almost reach the window.

"Come on then, follow me."

T.A. shuffled out between the curtains and into what was the lounge and dining area. It was almost bereft of furnishings. A home made table built from packing crates was set under a jalousie window. Behind the table was a platform seat and the near side had two stools and one at each end. A cane lounge rested against a flimsy looking bannister that had the staircase behind it. The lounge had three dirty and not very comfortable looking large cushions covering its base. T.A. recognised the cushion covers were rice sacks, now being put to a different use.

The kitchen bench though stood out like a beacon. It was freshly painted and looked super smooth. It certainly looked super clean. Through the tied back curtains he saw the small room at the back where there was a small gas stove. Probably a two burner as there were two pots still sitting on its top.

The lounge floor also looked clean. The timber polished from hours and hours of rubbing with coconut shell. Three thin mattresses with a solitary pillow on each lay near the wall.

As he passed through, T.A. looked for the girls and it was not until his eyes caught some movement that he realised there was a doorway on to a narrow balcony at the front of the house. Both girls were seated on the balcony, looking back at him.

He nodded in their direction and saw the flash of white teeth as the girls smiled back.

The journey down the staircase was a little more tricky than he expected, and there was pain in his knee joints at the sudden jarring effects. The noise the staircase made as he took each step made him hope the structure was strong enough.

From his experience of the rural Philippines, T.A. knew that the term 'bath', was used in a Philippine manner. Even in most areas of the city. People took their 'bath' outdoors, using a scoop with water from a large container or drum. Sometimes it was just emptying water over the body from pre-filled coca-cola bottles.

## \----------

### Paradise Plantations - Day 6

Nilo drove the jeepney as quietly as he could up the road. He had hoped his care might mean that the occupants of the huts bordering the road might not be alerted to his presence. It was a hopeless cause. Every hut had at least one barking dog. Only one of the huts still had kerosene or gas lamp burning, all the others were dark, as it was expected they would be, by 11:00 p.m.

Two hundred metres beyond the 'Private Property of Paradise Plantations' sign the road widened slightly. Nilo stopped the jeepney. After taking several forward and reverse drives of the jeepney, he eventually had it facing toward the highway.

He had a good and plausible reason for being there if he was caught where he was. Pater had suggested it. Marivic was in the front seat next to him to play the part of his lover if they were approached. They were parked on this road because they thought they would be alone and not disturbed.

He turned around to tell his three passengers to get out, but they were already gone. He had not been aware of their silent departure. He peered up the moonlit road, but could not see them. He looked at his watch, then at Marivic, and shrugged.

Pater, Henry and Rangi generally ran in the shaded area of the road. Their black clothing effectively hid them when they were not shaded from the moon. But they still ran cautiously. Any unseen or unexpected hole could twist an ankle. That would mean one less person available to reconnoitre around the buildings.

The regular noises of the night disguised their footfalls to all but anyone they might pass on the road. But there should not be anyone else on the road.

Just before they got to the newly cleared area, which Pater could see just ahead on the right, they stopped. He allowed a few minutes for the three of them to catch their breath. Then moving slowly and staying in the shade, began to move.

Pater stopped. Henry and Rangi did likewise.

"Is that tree stump moving, or is it my imagination?" he said in a quiet voice.

All three of them looked toward the cleared ground. It seemed strange that apart from the one stump about one hundred metres from the road; the ground was completely cleared around it. Pater removed his Samsung 10 power binoculars from the pouch on his waist belt.

They all saw the stump move. Quickly double checking they were shaded, they then looked back at what they now knew was a human figure.

"What the hell's he doing?" asked Henry quietly.

Pater looked through the binoculars for a few seconds. "He seems to be using something like a rod to.., no, its a bloody mine-detector. Why the fuck would he be looking for mines out here? Who would lay any mines around here?"

"Who is it?" asked Rangi.

"Funny shaped head, got his back to us, no he's wearing headphones to pick up the ground signals."

The figure in the clearing turned and started back toward them in his sweeping pattern. The advancing figure's gaze and concentration all appeared to be downward on the ground to his immediate front.

The advancing figure was soon within 50 metres of their position. Pater let the binoculars drop to his waist.

"Jesus, for a second I thought it was T.A. It must be that missing Japanese bastard Yamada. God, in this light he looks like T.A."

"Where's his bodyguard?" said Henry.

"Freeze here until we see him," replied Pater.

They watched the figure of Yamada come to within 15 metres of where they stood, then the figure turned and walked away from them continuing to sweep the detector in front of him.

After he had moved about 50 metres away, Pater went on. "So, he's using a metal detector. Why here? Why in the middle of the night?"

"He's lookin' for something that he doesn't want anyone else to know about," offered Rangi. "And he doesn't care who the kidnappers are holding."

"Good point. Shit where is that Ueda."

"Sleeping?" suggested Henry. "He can't work all day and then run around the paddock like this Yamada all night."

The trio watched Yamada go to the furthest distance of his sweep. Then they nervously watched as he approached on the return leg to within 15 metres before turning and moving on his away sweep. Once he had gone about 50 metres, Pater began to move quickly up the road to get beyond the cleared area.

Inside eight minutes they spotted the flat gravel area with the large storage shed, the open fronted vehicle shed to the left, and the small nipa hut to the right. The nipa hut was in darkness.

Pater knew they had to be doubly careful here. Humans walking normally on gravel made a very distinct sound. They had to make each footfall silent, and that meant moving uncomfortably slowly.

He signalled for Henry to check the vehicle shed and Rangi to check the storage shed. They both moved silently away.

As Pater approached the nipa hut, he looked for some soft earth that might silence his steps. That was only present at the sides, and he presumed the back, of the hut. He would check those areas first.

He was frustrated at the few windows at the back and the sides. Because of the lack of them, little moonlight was being cast inside. He tried to allow his eyes to adjust to the darker interior. He was aware of the risk he was taking staring in. His upper torso would be fully outlined to anyone inside looking out.

Finally, his patience was rewarded. He made out the figure of Ueda lying on a mattress on the floor, presumably asleep, or at least unaware of what was going on outside.

He had seen enough. Still moving slowly over the gravel, he returned to the shadows of the road area. He was quite startled to find the others already there.

Nodding his head, they began to jog back down the road. Pausing only briefly to confirm Yamada was sweeping an away leg, they ran past and on to the waiting jeepney.

Marivic let out a little squeal of fright at the silent return of the three. They immediately lay on the floor and pulled a tarpaulin over themselves. Nilo started the jeepney and moved off.

## **********

## CHAPTER 29

## LOCATING THE VICTIM

### Maria Christina Hotel - Day 7

It was after midnight by the time Pater's small group returned to the hotel. The reception staff got up from their floor mattresses behind the counter, where they had been sleeping, to give the room keys. Pater asked for spare coffee, tea, milk and sugar sachets. He knew there would be a long session between the five of them discussing the day's events.

Seated around Pater's room with their own choice of drinks, Pater told Nilo and Marivic what they saw at the plantation.

Henry told them about the truck and the four wheel drive in the vehicle shed.

"So, they have transport," said Pater. "Perhaps we should have made them u/s."

"Thought you might have wanted that," said Henry. "I cut the radiator hose of the truck and put dirt in the fuel tank. The Patrol has a flat spare tyre as well as the front right tyre. Should be problems with the brakes as well."

Pater grinned. "Nothing obvious then?"

"Not until they drive," answered Henry.

"Nilo, Henry told me about the visit to meet the officer who attended the kidnap scene, and what the officer had seen and guessed had happened. But he said the officer often broke off to speak to you in Visayan. What was he saying?" asked Pater.

Nilo reacted a little embarrassed at being caught out withholding information. "It's just that the officer didn't want to describe the condition of one of the bodies to Henry. For some reason he thought Henry might have been a relation. The size of Henry and the Japanese, you know."

"Why?"

Nilo looked at Marivic. "Its just that one of the bodies left behind had both arms cut off and the head almost cut in half from the top down."

Marivic drew a loud breath.

"O.K., I get the picture. Doesn't mean anything bad has happened to T.A. though." Pater thought of the blood stained jacket and business cards, and kept that knowledge to himself.

"What now?" asked Rangi.

"If we can't find T.A., we'll grab the Japanese bastard and swap him for T.A. later when we know where he is. Then we'll have to let the kidnappers know we have their real target if we can find out who they are. If we haven't made progress to finding T.A. today, we'll have to find somewhere we can hide out with the Japanese safely tied up."

They all nodded agreement.

"After all we're hardly committing a crime. The bastard's already meant to be kidnapped."

## \----------

### near Linamon - Day 7

Siti was awake and waiting for her uncle to leave. She was already feeling the yearning in her body.

The uncle sneaked past, again about an hour before sunrise, and immediately Siti made her way through the curtains. She knew she should be feeling embarrassed, but the stranger, though he was conscious the last time she had 'done it', had made her feel so comfortable. It all felt natural and a part of sharing. A togetherness she had never felt before.

She had wanted him many times during the preceding day, especially when she was looking at him, but there was always someone else around.

This time the stranger was laying on his right side. She lay down behind him and cuddled into his back, putting her left arm over him. Again the thought of two spoons came into her mind.

The stranger stirred and then took her hand as he turned over slowly to face her. His hands stroked her hair then her face.

"Are you sure this is what you want to do?" he asked quietly.

"Yes," she replied, already feeling her breath becoming shorter.

His hands moved slowly and softly over her chest. She became amazed at all the sensitive places his hands seemed to find on her. His hands moved further down her body to between her legs.

"Oh yes," she breathed loudly.

## \----------

### Maria Christina Hotel - Day 7

Pater waited until 9:30 a.m. before phoning Ruben Consuelo at the newspaper office. He had heard unexpectedly from Yamada's office advising that the maximum cash they could raise was P5 million pesos, and even then some of that was being transferred from Manila accounts and would take a few days.

Consuelo was about to phone Pater when the kidnapper phoned. Consuelo passed the information about the cash and the delay to the kidnapper. The kidnapper was annoyed, but would accept the amount as a down-payment. Consuelo told him that he had already arranged for a Catholic priest to deliver the money in exchange for the hostage. But firstly they would have to get the money.

The kidnapper argued, and was about to hang up after saying he would phone again tomorrow. But Consuelo asked him to phone again later in the afternoon so he could keep him up to date about the arrival of the money.

Pater was pleased about that. It might give them another chance to get the kidnapper to show himself, and enable them to follow him. Under the guise of getting proof that the Japanese was still alive, Pater had formulated a plan.

He phoned Nilo's room and told him to gather all his helpers for another practice of the songs. He then sent Henry and Rangi to supervise.

Everything had to be ready to swing into action if they could narrow down T.A's location to a few blocks of the city, or a few barrios in the country.

## \----------

### near Linamon - Day 7

Since sunrise, both Siti and Zahra had been in to bring T.A. food. Siti had been the most frequent visitor, ensuring that his bottle of boiled water was still full, emptying and rewashing the lidded bucket that he had been given to use as a toilet.

T.A. felt embarrassed about that, but there was little he could do. He just hoped if he needed a bowel movement that he would have a long enough period of privacy. He felt better with his limited freedom, only being held by a leg chain.

Each time Siti gave him something, she would 'accidentally' brush him. He was conscious too of the ill-fitting underwear that Omar had given him to replace his own. The replacements were uncomfortably tight.

He was unsure what to think of this physical and sexual attention he was getting from Siti, or even how it started. He was sure that the events of yesterday, when he woke to find her cuddling into him, was not the first time that something had happened between them. Her touching and familiarity with him then was more like that between two people that had had sexual relations before.

He knew he should not have done anything with her this morning. Despite his physical weakness, he enjoyed her touch. Now he was wondering how he could stop without hurting her young, emotional, gentle and caring heart.

More than anything, he needed allies. If he upset Siti by rejecting her, she might turn out to be very vindictive.

He crossed to the window. Because the chain was now on his left leg he found he could stretch further and reach the wooden monsoon shutters which had been closed. The shutters moved freely in their slots and slid back easily despite showing advanced signs of age or wood rot, or both. The narrow sill outside was cratered too from wood rot or the weather, or both.

Looking up, past the tops of the nearby coconut trees, the sky was now grey, not the clear sky that it had been for the previous two days that he could remember. Though the temperature was still warm, at least there was no clammy feeling in the air. No mugginess that made his body wet with sweat and cause his underpants to cling to his skin. Perhaps there was the hint of a breeze that was keeping the atmosphere cooler.

As if acknowledging his thoughts, the branches at the tops of the highest coconut trees moved gently, at first, then swayed a little more as if for emphasis before returning to their stationary posture. T.A. appreciated the brief coolness.

Beneath the thick growth of branches at their high tops, clusters of green coconuts nestled in close to the trunk. The branches above, protecting its fruit like a mother hen settles over a brood of chickens.

The higher trees, T.A. presumed, were the oldest. Below the clusters of green coconuts, the long slim grey trunks of each tree further safeguarded its offspring by pushing its topmost and only branches out of reach of all but the most determined predators. Some tree-tops, he estimated, were the height of a three to five story building.

T.A. wondered if the lack of any other branches on the trunks, other than those at the tops, was by Nature's design, or whether the locals pruned all the other branches. Healed, but indented scars on the trunks could have been made as a result of pruning or as a human foothold to help scaling the tree.

The younger and shorter trees, with no fruit under their tops, had trunks of almost black to dark grey.

Beyond the nearest coconut trees stood a small copse of banana trees. Their long and broad leaves were a contrast to the skinny leaves of the coconut trees.

Some banana leaves were longer than a tall man, and the longest were wider than a full span of a man's arms. While the growth at the tops was broad, lush and green, the lower dying leaves were light brown. Now dejected and rejected by the fresh growth above it, they were curled, dried, torn and twisted as they still hung precariously to the main stem. If there were any fruits growing he could not see them under the thick leaves. The grey light of the grey day, and maybe the distance too, hid their fruit. Some other shallow rooted and less fortunate banana trees had been torn from the ground in a recent typhoon. Dragged away from the main copse, they lay dead and browning.

Beneath and around the banana and coconut trees, ankle to waist high weeds and undergrowth covered the rocks and soil. A single cream coloured village dog sniffed for food scraps around the larger rocks that stood higher than the secondary growth. Unsuccessful at the first clump of rocks, the dog moved to another group of rocks disturbing a hen and her clutch of five young chicks. Without concern or panic the mother hen moved away from the dog, which had ignored them. Perhaps the dog was wise to the village rules. Dogs that killed chickens were soon killed by the villagers.

T.A. had noticed before in previous visits to the Philippines that a truce seemed to exist between the different species of mostly free roaming village animals. Nanny goats were followed by their kids, sows by their tiny piglets, hens by their chickens, all undisturbed by any of the dozens of unowned scavenger dogs. Even the feral cats, though wary and watchful of their natural enemy, the dog, merely padded quickly past the dogs without hearing so much as a growl.

"Err ee err orr," screeched one of the many chestnut and black coloured fighting cocks, leg-tied to stakes or trees.

"Err ee err orr," replied another similarly tied.

Whenever he heard this, T.A. felt like calling out his response, "Happy New Year". It seemed to him that could be what they were calling out to each other.

"Err ee err orr," again.

"Torka, torka, torka, torka." This was the turkeys which had a different response.

T.A., surprised, leaned further out the window and looked along the narrow and badly broken asphalt lane for the source of the new and different sound that he had not heard for a long time. It was a sound that used to bring a laugh that he loved to hear from a woman he had once loved.

"Err ee err orr," then, Torka, torka, torka, torka," came again.

Memories of another time and place, of both good times and bad, came flooding back. It was a sound he had not heard since his last visit to Apuao Grande. He tried to quickly put the faded painful memories to the back of his mind, but they would not stay there. The scenes he was looking at, the sounds he was hearing, he had shared them all before with a woman he hoped, and believed, he was going to have a long future with. Then his heart felt like it had been smashed in the chest with a sledge hammer when he caught his special lady in bed with someone else.

"Err ee err orr," again from the fighting cocks.

"Torka, torka, torka, torka," responded again.

T.A. could not prevent his grin now on seeing the two turkeys in the distance. The male, tail spread proudly, strutted protectively between his smaller turkey mistress and a leg-tied fighting cock.

Too soon the turkeys had moved into distant undergrowth and out of his sight. The cocks settled back into their "Happy New Year," calls to each other.

T.A. moved back from the window and sat on his floor tarpaulin bed. Staring out the window at the grey sky, perhaps it was only reflecting the sense of despair and loss he had begun to feel all over again. Both the sky and his emotions were grey. The outside scene and his thoughts had put him into a trance.

## \----------

The sudden touch of a hand on his shoulder snapped his mind back to the present. He did not look at the hand, instead turning his head expecting to see Siti. Instead it was Omar.

"Are you feeling a little dispirited?"

T.A. paused for a few seconds. "Yeah. Something like that."

Omar tossed something onto his lap. "Recognise this?"

T.A. picked it up. He didn't need to examine it closely. "This is my money pouch. Where did you find it?"

Omar handed him a pen and some paper. "Can you sign your name?"

T.A. gripped the pen and was about to sign. "I nearly signed my name automatically, I couldn't remember it except for the T.A. part."

Omar then handed him two credit cards. "And these? Will they help?"

"God. That's my name, Cholmodelly-Tapper. Yes. Only it's pronounced Chumley-Tapper." T.A. put the cards down and made his signature, instinctive from many years of use, on the paper.

"Gee, now I remember why I ever only let people call me T.A.. I hate the name Cholmodelly-Tapper. Just like you did, all the people, not just in Asian countries mis-pronounce it." Then he handed the signed paper back to Omar.

"Check how that compares to the credit cards," said T.A. almost smugly.

Omar compared the credit card signatures to that on the paper. "Looks like you are who you say you are."

"Well you can let me go now then."

"It's not quite that simple. It gives us a problem. It gives me an even bigger problem."

"Why?"

"You were meant to be the Japanese. Salim thought he was holding him for ransom. Therefore the only reason you are alive is because the ransom he thought he was going to get for the Japanese has not yet been paid. Salim was going to kill him after he got the money. But we haven't got the Japanese, we've got you. So Salim won't get any money."

"I'm not rich."

"That's not what I mean. Nobody bothered with disguises because the Japanese was going to be killed. If he was dead he could never identify anyone. Our problem is that because we are Muslim, the AFP will use any excuse to kill every member of our families as collaborating with the kidnappers if they even get a hint of who is involved. If they discovered that the kidnappers were from this barrio, then not many people from around here would be left alive by the time they were finished."

"This is my life you're talking about," said T.A. hoping there was nothing in his voice that sounded like a whine or a pleading for his life. Though he knew that was what he was in fact doing.

"No. It's about my life. The lives of my wife and children. The lives of Salim and his daughters. The lives of my sisters, brothers, their wives and husbands, their children. They will all be put to the sword. Your life therefore means nothing to us. The life and death of the Japanese at least meant a final reckoning and payment for all the pains his forbears inflicted on our families."

T.A. felt his heart sink and was conscious that he had let his head drop so as he was looking at the floor.

"I don't want to kill you, My worry is that Salim will, as soon as he finds out you are not the Japanese. If you want to live for a while longer, then you must be the Japanese. If Salim returns, you can be conscious, but you must never speak. Your brain must have been so damaged from the beating you got that you have lost your memory and the power of speech. Perhaps a vacant staring into space. That all might keep you alive for a while."

Head still down and feeling deeply despondent, T.A. felt his head nod affirmatively.

## **********

## CHAPTER 30

## GETTING THE EVIDENCE

### Iligan - Day 7

Again, Pater's three prearranged groups stationed themselves within sight of the newspaper office. Nobody knew what method the kidnapper would arrange to pick up camera and newspaper. As agreed, the camera and today's newspaper would be put in a plain plastic bag.

After an hour had passed, Pater was concerned that his stake-out group had been spotted. He was about to walk to Marivic's group when a youngster, about ten years old, ran to the front of the newspaper office and went inside.

Pater turned round and walked back to where he was standing, then, moved into the cover of a door. Pulling his r/t out he flicked to all stations. A one word response came from Rangi and Henry.

"Those that will recognise that kid, get moving."

He looked up to see most of the people from the groups begin the prearranged plan. They moved away from the newspaper office and down the various side streets and into shop doorways to watch for the child making any hand-over. Obviously it would not take place close to the office.

The child came out from the doorway and ran away from Pater's position. Pater had to fight the urge to break into a run and give chase. Nevertheless, he walked as fast as he could in the same direction the child ran. Some others, including those across the street, wrongly positioned as he had been, were doing the same. Suddenly the child made a life-risking dash through the traffic to the sound of blasting horns and cursing drivers.

Pater cursed to himself after he lost sight of the child. He hoped someone else would be successful. He walked to where the groups' jeepney was parked and waited.

Singly and in groups of two the others returned, and as each one did, Pater's hopes diminished accordingly. Within 15 minutes all but one had returned. Pater did not want to raise his own hopes but was determined to stay as long as possible. He was sure that Henry, Rangi, Nilo, Marivic, all sitting silently in the jeepney with the other returnees, was wondering the same.

Eventually Pater spoke. "Who's missing?"

"Joven," replied Nilo.

"Anybody see him anywhere?"

"He was talking to some girl at a shop," replied one of Nilo's cousins.

Pater lowered his voice to control his anger. "I don't believe it. Someone's life is at stake and, oh shit I'm really pissed off." He banged on the roof of the jeepney.

The driver took it as the intended signal to start the engine and move off. Pater did not counter his accidental signal. Within minutes they were back at the hotel.

When they entered the lobby Pater turned to Nilo. "I want to see you the minute Joven returns. If he doesn't return it better mean that he's on the trail of the kidnapper, not screwing with some bloody woman. Otherwise I'll kick his arse in."

## \----------

### near Linamon - Day 7

Since their earlier talk, Omar had opened up to T.A. about many things about his personal life. With pride he told of his seven month pregnant wife, two daughters and four sons. That he was pleased about this interruption to his long days out fishing.

The strong presence of the military on a fruitless search for the missing Japanese had worried many Muslims and stopped many going to the markets. The more frequent through traffic of army trucks carrying armed soldiers made everyone feel uncomfortable. The AFP was using the excuse to annoy the regions Muslims with unwarranted personal searches. Women were staying away from any areas that soldiers were known to be in, as the soldiers were searching them with even more frequency than the men. Many fishermen returning in their bancas were having their bancas searched and then their fish were being confiscated.

Helicopters flying overhead was not unusual, however, the increased number was. Their low and slow passes over the barrio was disconcerting and worrying for many of the residents who were aware of the kidnapped Japanese being within the village.

Not having to spend all day fishing, Omar put the time to good use on his secret project. He felt his project could be the possible beginning of a chance for a big increase in his income, if his invention worked. Then he would make more for himself, and a few extras to sell.

Most of the family income came from the fish he caught daily from his banca and then sold in the market. But on bad fishing days there were barely enough to feed his own family.

Omar had been fishing for years, but the returns were declining as commercial fishermen in big boats now also plied the area. one of the earliest from his barrio to supply fish to the resorts. He had been making good money in those early days. He had sometimes taken supplies to the not too far distant tourist resort. He was also the first Muslim to supply fish to the Manila owned and therefore Catholic controlled resort. Now though things were different. Too many others were now doing the same thing.

With so much competition; the resorts prefered to buy from Catholics, and.were able to be more choosy in selection of the catches. They were able to play fishermen off against each other to pay the least price when catches were plentiful.

At various stages during his single and early married life he had worked on freighters. After he married, he hated being away for his wife for such long periods. Then he hated being away as his family grew in number, it was just that the money was good. He could survive fishing, but it was hard.

With even greater growth in his family size, the income had become too little for their needs. His wife sold his fish at the market, and anything else she felt could be traded at a profit, but it was barely enough to supplement his earnings.

He had few vices, though he generally attended the weekly cock fights and had a little flutter.

Omar knew that he had to catch more fish and earn more money if he wanted to help his children escape the life-style he had lived.

T.A. had watched now for two days, with varying interest as Omar used the set square to ensure his cutting was accurate. Omar had scored a set line into the glass with his fishing knife. Gently, and stroke after stroke he made hundreds of passes down the same lines on the glass. Omar advised T.A. that it was to ensure a clean break would be made. T.A. looked at the two rectangular flat sheets of glass with perfect right angles and nodded.

His wife thought he was building a tool-box for his banca, or even a sealed box to contain salt-water where he could keep his catch to keep it even fresher. Omar conceded that he was terrified at the day of reckoning when he would need to make the ultimate test of the new-fangled floating device. The accuracy of the glass cutting was critical. They would form the top and the bottom part of his see-through fishing buoy.

T.A had watched fascinated as the grooves in the wooden boxes were etched out top and bottom to perfectly fit the glass, and wondered why it was of this design. He would wait until Omar was ready to explain. He watched the process of fitting, gluing, clamping, and wax-sealing of the cubic contraption.

With it all finished, he watched Omar's face change swiftly from smiles of ecstatic delight to frowns of concern, then back again many times. Without even checking the security of T.A.'s manacles, he picked up the cube that was so large he could only just get a hand on each side, and ran out of the room, down the stairs, and out of the house. T.A. watched out the window as Omar headed toward the nearby beach.

Nearly an hour later he returned, large cube securely held. He gently put it on the floor.

"It works, it works."

T.A. was surprised. Omar's threw his arms around him.

"I tried to force it below the surface for nearly an hour. It wouldn't sink. It held me up like a life jacket. Look." He turned it over. "Not a drop of water inside."

T.A. could not hold his question any longer.

"But why the glass on each end?"

"Simple. It means I can place it perfectly over the reef in the right place every time. I can see right through it. Once I have attached the anchor line for it, the set-lines will be in the perfect place. No more snagging and loss of hooks or line."

He hugged T.A. again. "Sorry, it's nearly dark and I haven't even given you lunch."

Siti ran through the curtains and rapidly spoke to Omar.

"Quickly," said Omar, "we must shorten your chains. Zahra saw Papa coming."

With Siti's help, Omar made a rapid rearrangement of the chains. It was barely complete when the noise and force of the door being crashed back caused the walls to vibrate. Siti ran out of the bedroom as the stairway protested the thumping feet on its surface.

"Remember you're brain damaged and not aware of your surroundings," said Omar.

Salim came through the curtains carrying a plastic bag. Siti and Zahra were close on his heels.

T.A. put on a wide-eyed stare at the ceiling pretending he was not aware of any action in the room. Then he realised that it was not too difficult as he did not understand anything they were saying anyway.

He had to fight the urge not to be affected by what he could see in his peripheral vision. He wanted to tense up at every approach Salim made toward him. T.A. was expecting a kick every time Salim came near.

When they tried to sit him up, he relaxed his body to play the part of a rag dummy. Siti sat behind him to keep him upright, but kept her face hidden. A newspaper was placed in his lap and without looking directly at it, he saw Salim point a camera at him. The sudden flash from the camera made him jerk involuntarily and he tried unsuccessfully to prevent himself blinking several times.

Another five photos were taken, though he managed to control the jerk of his body, he could still not prevent the blinking of his eyes.

Photo session over, Siti lowered him gently to the floor. With his peripheral vision he saw Salim stand over him, then move away and out through the curtains.

The voices outside began to rise in volume for a few minutes. T.A. did not understand a word of it. But it was obvious an argument was occurring between Salim and Omar.

After a few minutes the sound of thumping down the staircase was followed by the slamming of the door. Omar came back through the curtains.

"You played your part well. Salim wanted to kick your head in when he saw you were awake."

T.A. breathed in deeply. "What was the argument about?"

"After he got the photos, he said there was no reason to keep you alive. I said we had to in case they wanted more proof later. He eventually agreed. He wasn't happy when he left though."

"Thanks," said T.A.

"You can start repaying me tonight when we tie on the marker flag and brackets for the anchor chain with the metal bands."

"I'll do the best I can."

## \----------

### Maria Christina Hotel - Day 7

Pater, with a combined feeling of hope and anger, waited for any news of Joven's return. After two hours had passed he had begun to think that perhaps Joven had been so distracted by his female company that he had probably gone off to spend the night with her.

His mind jerked back when his phone rang. Consuelo told him another grubby child had returned the plastic bag complete with camera. He had just returned from delivering the undeveloped film The prints and developed film were expected to be ready in a further 30 minutes. As soon as he collected them he would go directly to the hotel.

The loud banging on his door startled him. He quickly opened it to the beaming smiles of Nilo and Joven, who he ushered in quickly. Pater quickly phoned Henry and Rangi and within seconds they were in Pater's room.

"O.K., what happened?"

"I was talking to this girl by the door of a pawn shop when the kid ran past me and into the shop. I watched him give the bag to a man looking at some of the goods. When he left, I asked the girl to come with me as we followed him. When he got on a jeepney, I got on the same one and waved goodbye to the girl.

The man got off the jeepney at Linamon. He started to walk down a road on the seaward side. I travelled on a few more metres before I got off and tried to follow him. By the time I got back to the same street I couldn't see him any more. So I just waited around and hoped nobody thought I was crazy or a criminal. The Muslims in that area are all related and all watch out for each other."

"Good stuff," said Pater.

"I didn't see him straight away when he came back after about half an hour, but he had a plastic bag. He got into another jeepney and headed back to Iligan. I don't know where he'd been or came from, sorry."

"Don't be sorry, it's bloody marvellous. We've got our starting point."

Pater looked at the group.

"Tomorrow we start displaying our singing abilities in Linamon. The choir assembles downstairs at 8:00 A.M.sharp."

## **********

## CHAPTER 31

## CONSCIENCE OR PLEASURE

### Maria Christina Hotel - Day 7

Only Henry and Rangi were with Pater when the next knock on the door came. As Pater expected, it was Ruben Consuelo. He pulled photos out of an envelope and gave them to Pater.

"I don't think you'll like the look of these."

Pater quickly looked at them with Henry and Rangi looking over his shoulder.

"Jesus, look at his eyes," said Pater. "He's off the planet. The black eyes and bruising on the face shows he's had a beating but it looks like he's drugged. Lost a lot of weight too."

"Is it your friend?" asked Rangi.

Pater lapsed into a quieter voice. "Yeah. I'm pleased Marivic wasn't here to see these. You know, this guy had a real sweetie at Apuao Grande, or so he thought. He really loved her. Then while he was doing his damnedest to help me, his girl was busy screwing with someone else. I reckon he saved my life at least twice during that resort drama. Then he never said a word to any authorities about anything. Now some other bastards.... well lets just say I feel I owe him something."

"Is Marivic his new squeeze?" asked Rangi.

"I don't know. I don't think so. But she obviously likes him a lot and I think maybe would be if she could be."

"Where does this Nilo character fit in?" asked Henry.

"T.A's a friendly guy. He met Nilo in Manila. He treats people like human beings. Nilo's obviously responded to that. Probably the first foreigner that's done it."

"Looks quite clean though, as if he's been washed," said Rangi. "But if he's been drugged it might stuff up the plans for the choir."

"Bastards," said Pater.

## \----------

### near Linamon - Day 7

T.A. helped Omar as much as he could to ensure the metal band and u-bolts had securely tied the base for the marker pole and attachment to hold the anchor chain. Each small exertion made him feel exhausted and every few minutes he had to stop. He was pleased Omar made no comment about his slowness.

Omar explained that Salim had not slept in the bedroom since Yamada's thugs had raped his wife. He had barely gone into the bedroom since he had found her hanging from a tree. Each thought of her made Salim angry and want to lash out at anyone nearby. He even burnt their bed after she died.

About an hour after sunset Omar offered T.A. the opportunity of another bath. He was on his feet before he realised he had not replied. Omar grinned. This time when he undid the leg chain he did not manacle the legs together. He just looked at T.A. and nodded. T.A. nodded his response. Both knew he was too weak to run.

When he returned, towel wrapped around his waist, Siti gave him his own underpants, washed and folded in a style he had never seen before.

"Thank you very much," he said. Siti blushed, Zahra giggled and both of the girls ran out onto the front balcony overlooking the lane.

The next couple of hours passed, only interrupted by Siti's brief appearance delivering another feed of fish and rice. T.A.'s limited efforts had exhausted him. He lay down on his bed.

"Tonight I think I will stay with my wife," said Omar. He turned off his lantern and left the room.

T.A. heard the voices in the next room speaking their own language. He did not hear Omar leave, he was asleep within seconds.

## \----------

### Paradise Plantation - Day 7

Ueda ate his rice and heated canned meat. Yamada had not spoken to him when Ueda returned. Yamada had merely waited until it was dark enough to be unseen carrying on his magnetic sweeping of the area, and left the nipa hut.

Ueda felt his future was now clear. Yamada had become treasure crazy. His fixation on further sudden riches had caused his mind to detach from reality and responsibility. Therefore Ueda had to decide just when and how he should leave.

He did not intend to give notice, merely just to depart. The only question in his mind was whether he should face Yamada, who had once been a good employer, or just not be there when Yamada woke up. He realised if he did that, it would not be an honourable thing. Yet his English education also told him that honour should be given to the honourable and respect to the respectable. Over the last few days he had learned that Yamada deserved neither honour nor respect. Unfortunately his Bushido training also taught him to respect his master. Where did he draw the line?

## \----------

### near Linamon - Day 8

T.A. woke immediately Siti lay down beside him. He did not know what time it was. It was still dark, though the light of the moon through the closed monsoon shutters was still enough to discern the larger objects in the room. This time he immediately sensed she was totally naked and the touch of her skin against his sent his heart racing.

He knew he should not be wanting, what he was feeling. His mind was fighting between what was proper and what was a male instinctive and natural need. His body had already reacted and when she put her hand around his scrotum. He knew he did not have the will to object.

## **********

## CHAPTER 32

## THE CHOIR SINGS IN LINAMON

### Linamon - Day 8

The barrio of Linamon was like all the other small roadside barrios or villages. There were houses of various constructions and designs interspersed with sari sari stores, and an open market, where fruit, vegetables and fish were sold. The other seemingly standard shops were also there, the chemist, tailor, vehicle repair shop with petrol pump, and general store. Several of the same style shops were on some of the side streets.

Marivic's group of three including Henry got out in the town proper. The jeepney with the remaining two groups then stopped again two hundred metres further on where Joven had last seen the kidnapper. Nilo's group of Rangi and Joven got out at the top of the road the kidnapper appeared to go down.

The driver continue a further hundred metres before stopping and watching Pater get out with his two companions. Then turning the jeepney around the driver returned to the town centre to wait.

## \----------

All the groups began to walk very slowly down the first of the side street they had each been allocated. Rangi could see the shoreline about 250 metres away. The huts and houses on either side of the narrow bitumen covered lane generally had large gaps between them with small copses of banana and coconut trees. The lane was just over one car width with a strip of about a metre of road gravel each side.

He cleared his throat with a couple of forced and self-conscious coughs, then, started to sing the Australian National anthem.

"Australians come let us rejoice, for we are young and free......" He had to stop several times because of the loud noise from trucks passing on the main road. Then he would re-start. During each pause he would curse that he could not sing the songs he wanted to sing. He understood that the songs themselves were chosen to elicit some hoped for response from T.A., so he would follow orders and sing those songs.

Nilo took over the singing for a few minutes. Rangi was wishing there was some other way he could think of to attract T.A's attention to the fact that there might be help nearby. The hope was always that T.A. could somehow respond. They all knew that T.A. could be gagged, maybe even drugged or unconscious. This idea was the only one that Pater had, so Rangi knew he had to carry it through. When they reached the first cross- lane, they stopped at the corner as had been pre-arranged and looked to their left and right. In the distance, some one hundred metres to the right was Marivic's group. To their left, about the same distance, was Pater's group.

A quick wave and they started to move into the next block. It had taken nearly 15 minutes to cover the first 100 metres. They had to stop regularly and pause in their singing to listen for any response. The wave from the others indicated nothing to report.

As they began the second block, Rangi looked at the shoreline only 150 metres away. The thought of a quick swim crossed his mind. If he stripped down to his underwear, he could carry them wet. He did not need underwear under his shorts. He would have bathed nude, but the locals might cause trouble.

Nilo started singing again. "Once a jolly swagman camped by a billabong, under the shade of a coolabah tree.........." All three would join in the chorus. "Waltzing Matilda, waltzing Matilda.....," then they would pause for a few seconds between each line, hoping for a response.

It also took nearly 15 minutes to reach the second cross lane. Again a glance to the left and right, again the waves from each group indicated no response or hoped for reaction from T.A.. Rangi's thought of T.A., who he had never met, being tied up and unable to respond kept coming into his mind, yet somehow the vision did not seem quite right.

## \----------

T.A. had only been giving the girls their English lessons for a few minutes when Omar returned. Zahra was still sleepy. Siti had only left being by his side about 45 minutes before. T.A. was surprised at Omar's early return. It would barely have been an hour after sunrise, maybe as late as 7:00 A.M.

Omar nodded to the girls and they quickly left the room.

"You look like you're happy. Was you wife pleased to see you?"

Omar grinned. "Happier than she's been for a long time."

"Good fishing?"

"Yes. Even though I was late getting started, the fish swam onto my hooks with pleasure and I caught more in ten minutes than I normally catch in two hours. You know how it is when you're married. Easy to stay in bed for a little extra time. But the fish, they knew." Omar grinned again.

"More work on your project then?"

"Yes. Thanks to your help, I think I can probably put out a set-line this afternoon."

"I'll help any way I can."

Omar called out to the girls. "Food for the workers girls, and make it quick"

"Tomorrow I think I'll have caught a big load of fish."

"I hope so," T.A. nodded. In the distance he could hear music. Then he realised it was someone singing.

## **********

## CHAPTER 33

## UNAPPRECIATIVE AUDIENCE

Rangi looked at the last small lane leading down to the sea. It was not a sand beach as he hoped, but covered in small pebbles. The sea was still, no surf, not that he expected any in this sheltered coastal area. A few small bancas were pulled up above the high tide mark. Whatever the state of the beach he decided he was at least going to remove his thongs and wade in up to his knees. That should cool all of his body.

"God of nations at thy feet," one of the Filipino's had burst into the New Zealand national anthem with what Rangi considered was quite reasonable skill. "In the bonds of love we meet. Hear our voices we entreat, God defend our free land."

The Filipino stopped outside the third to last hut, with the vacant section nearby. He pretended to look at his well worn thongs. Rangi and Nilo pretended to look on with interest.

When there was no reaction to their singing they moved on the 20 or so metres to the next building which was slightly more substantial. Rangi noticed it was a two storey design, though it looked, from the missing boards on the downstairs walls, that it was unlikely that anyone lived downstairs. The access to the upstairs part he presumed was behind the closed door on the right of the construction. A rough and not too secure looking balcony without any protective rail sat out along the front of the upstairs part of the house. The sections each side of the house were vacant, with a few random banana and other trees growing above knee high weeds burnt down in some areas by household rubbish fires on another empty section with a large single tree.

"That's a balite tree" said Nilo. Many Filipinos believe there is a spirit inside it. Sometimes a good spirit, sometimes bad."

There were no vehicles nearby. Rangi decided he would do it his way as he started a song that often brought him to tears when he thought of the death of his Father and this song being sung at the funeral.

"Po karē karē ana. Nga wai-o Rotorua. Whiti atu koa hinē. E ine anu ē." He paused and waited.

He realised his eyes widened suddenly. He heard a response he was not expecting.

"Kamatē, kamatē. ka ora ka ora."

The Maori war challenge he heard was followed by a thump. There was no further response.

His hand went to his pistol behind his back and under his barong as he looked around. He was tempted to charge into the door and see who, or what was inside. Nilo put his hand on Rangi's gun arm and nodded to a group of people coming down the lane but still about 100 metres distant. He relaxed and turned to walk back in the direction of the main road. This called for a co-ordinated effort.

As they reached the first of the cross lanes running parallel to the shore, he counted that there were nine men in the group approaching them. From their expression, their intention did not look friendly. Each was carrying either a machete, a building plank or a baseball bat.

Nilo and his companion were becoming nervous. The leader in the group began yelling something at them which Rangi did not understand. The argument seemed to become quite heated. While it was going on, Nilo was waving his hands in the direction of the beach.

Rangi looked at the possible challengers, just as they were looking at him. They seemed to be a little overawed and amazed at his size. It was possibly one of the reasons that they did not push the aggression too far.

Despite that, Rangi felt relief when he saw the approach of Pater's group from one side and Marivic's group from the other. Then he noticed that both the other groups too had smaller but nevertheless still menacing escorts behind them all carrying home gathered weapons.

Pater began to talk to the local group, though Rangi did not understand a word being said. Then he waved to his own crew and they followed him back toward the main road. Rangi quickly fell in beside Pater and Henry who had already moved to Pater's shoulder.

In a quiet voice Rangi said, "He's here. Second house from the end."

Pater cast a quick but all encompassing glance back over his shoulder. "Are you sure?"

"Someone replied to Po kare with the haka."

"Shit, what else?"

"Only a few words, then a thump like someone falling."

"It's gotta be him."

"What's with the escort?" asked Henry.

"The locals want to know what we're doing here. I told them we're looking for a decent beach for a swim."

"They buy that?"

"Hope so. But they still won't let us swim here. They say all the land round here is private. No strangers allowed. So we've been told to P.O.Q. They're escorting us to make sure."

The jeepney was at the end of the middle lane when they reached the main road, also with six threatening men standing around it and the driver looking very scared.

After they all climbed in, the driver did a U-turn and started to head back toward Iligan.

"So near yet so far," said Rangi.

"Only for now," replied Pater.

## \----------

T.A. woke with a pain in the back of his head, then, struggled against the chain which was once again holding him down. He opened his eyes and looked up at Omar's face which reflected anger.

"Why did you hit me like that?"

"You gave me your word that you would not try to communicate with anyone."

"I didn't. The guy was singing a well known New Zealand Maori song. I just added my little bit of Maori to it."

"What was the language you were speaking?"

"None. I mean it was Maori. But all I know were just the words of a Maori war dance. I don't know what they mean. The song that whoever it was, was singing, is well known in lots of places."

"We don't want problems. Someone might have guessed you're here"

"Sorry. I just reacted instinctively. Who knows I'm missing?"

"People are searching."

"They're looking for a Japanese. And that wasn't any Japanese song."

Omar's glare at T.A. softened, but only slightly. "Maybe, but maybe not. It might be better to shift you tonight."

"What about your surprise for your wife?"

Omar grinned. "Yeah. Maybe a bit later today. I'll set the lines with my oldest boy first. Show him my new marker buoy."

## **********

## CHAPTER 34

## AN ALLY LOST

### Maria Christina Hotel, Iligan - Day 8

Pater, Henry and Rangi sat deeply in the chairs in Pater's room.

"I hadn't foreseen local resistance like that. I should have. Small communities, tight loyalties. We can't charge in, there would be casualties," said Pater.

"What about coming in by banca?" offered Rangi.

"It's crossed my mind. It'd have to be after dark and we haven't got any good ground information. Bad information, bad results, you know the creed. And no backup plan."

"Hostage swap?" offered Henry.

"My thoughts too," said Rangi.

"Sounds like it might be. Except for the one big problem. They think they've already got the right guy."

## \----------

### Paradise Plantation - Day 8

Ueda had not reacted respectfully to Yamada's abuse on Yamada's return from another fruitless sweep of the cleared area.

Pleased to once again be away from Yamada, Ueda sat in the shade watching the workmen continue their clearing of the ground. He questioned the reasons behind the changes in his attitude. Perhaps it was the first time his loyalty to Yamada had really been tested. Perhaps it was his response to Yamada's apparent personality change and being one centred on greed.

The workmen seemed to be going progressively slower as the end of the work seemed to be nearer. It would now not be completed until late the next day.

He wondered what would happen if Yamada never located the buried treasure. All hope for covering up the loss of his bad investments would be gone.

Would Yamada flee to Japan? If he did he could never face his family, or any of the socially highly placed friends he boasted about.

Where would that leave him, Ueda?

He had a reasonable amount of money saved. Perhaps he would open a martial arts training school. If his wife agreed, maybe he should try to migrate to England. They would surely have a need for Japanese-run martial arts schools. There was no language problem for him, and he was sure he could teach his wife to speak passable English in the few months it might take to have all the papers processed. Yes, that would be his best choice of action.

His thoughts were suddenly interrupted by the ringing of the mobile phone.

"Yes"

"Tis Father O'Reilly here my son. Just ringing to see what progress has been made."

"We're getting the money together. It will still take a few more days though."

"Then what about making some small token payment to make sure the kidnappers don't lose heart. It is better to make them keep your boss alive for the rest of the money isn't it?"

Ueda wanted to say that his boss could not care less about the man the kidnappers held.

"You know, I have spoken with your Mr Seville who seems most cooperative."

"What do you suggest Father?"

"Maybe a payment from what you already have in hand, say P200,000. It might help show the good faith you have."

Ueda grinned. More than that small amount of money was held in the safe in the office for daily expenses. Perhaps he should humour this man.

"Yes Father, I agree. I will arrange for that amount to be delivered to your hotel later today. I know where you are, and I will be in touch. Goodbye." He pressed the call end button, then, dialled the direct line to Daniello Seville at Paradise Cannery office. Yamada would not even know about it. If it allowed the 'gaijin' to live a little longer he did not mind.

"I understand a priest has spoken to you about being a mediator," said Ueda.

"Yes I have. What of it?"

"He said the kidnappers want a token payment immediately to show good faith."

"How much?"

"He said P200,000. I know the company always has much more than that in the main safe in Yamada San's office."

"What about the second safe?"

"I don't know the combination to that one," Ueda lied. "But you know the combination to the big safe. Get the money out of there and deliver it to the priest. Have you got the address?"

"Yes."

"Well do it." Ueda was surprised at his own aggressiveness. "When we get Yamada San back, I'm sure he will not look favourably on any delays you might have caused that put him in danger."

Before Seville had the chance to reply, Ueda had terminated the connection and switched the phone off.

He relaxed again and watched as the workmen cleared more of the area near the three rocks.

## \----------

### Linamon - Day 8

All was now complete. His banca was now on the beach near Salim's house. He would load the cube buoy with the attachments, and the marker flag into the banca, then go home to get his eldest son to help him. Omar was pleased he could take this break from looking after the hostage. One of his wife's cousins had taken over the guard duties while he was out.

The soldiers had passed through the barrio several times without seeming to have any real purpose in what they were doing. Ostensibly it was all to do with the kidnapping of the Japanese, but they never made any inquiries. They were just being intimidating with their presence. Now they had gone. He did not know if there was any significance of the sudden appearance of the strangers looking for a beach. Maybe it was just coincidence. They had left quickly when confronted by some of his relations and friends who were on self appointed watching duties.

Omar had not really been interested in much of the goings on outside of his 'project' at present. It seemed as though the hostage looked on the completed work just as proudly.

Omar, aided by the 16 year old, pushed the banca off the pebble beach, before nimbly slipping aboard over the stern. The engine started easily, and Omar sat at the stern, tiller in hand, smile on his face, already dreaming of the extra fish he anticipated catching.

He steered the banca toward a reef about two kilometres away from his barrio. The reef was only two metres below the surface at low tide. It was where Omar tended to do most of his fishing. The 16 year old had examined the new cubic buoy closely and gave a thumbs-up to his Father, Omar. Just in case they spotted a now seldom seen turtle, he readied his catcher-pole with noose, then, started to bait the hooks of the set-line. By the time they were within a hundred metres of the reef, all was ready.

His son pointed to a lone helicopter seemingly slowly heading toward them. beats got louder. He looked up from the viewing box toward the direction from which the sound was coming.

A lone helicopter was approaching at what seemed a slow speed. The presence of helicopters in the area was not uncommon, but over the past few days, the over-flies had increased many-fold.

The helicopter climbed for height about one kilometre distance and continued heading directly toward them. Omar's son picked up his spear and began to wave at the helicopter when it got to within a hundred metres. Its flight path seemed it would pass directly overhead.

Suddenly pieces of the banca were splitting off and being flung into the air. Omar realised what was happening and gunned the banca motor to try and escape. Though he knew it was probably hopeless, he felt if he weaved his boat backward and forward, they might survive. He screamed at his son to get down and was thankful his son did not argue, and dived immediately to the bottom of the boat.

His immediate hope was that the pilot or the gunner would quickly realise they were only fishermen and offered no threat. But despite his desperate weaving, any sudden change of direction was quickly countered by the helicopter side-gunner. He glanced forward to check on his son. His heart sank. Several large blood marks were showing on the back of his son's normally spotless white singlet. Omar released the outboard control handle and stood up to check on his son. He took two steps forward, and felt little pain as the side of his head disappeared into the clear blue water near the reef.

## \----------

The crew of the helicopter cheered. The pilot of the Philippines Air Force Iriquois helicopter moved in close to confirm their success. Both he and the co-pilot gave the thumbs-up to each other, then, turned to do the same to the side-gunner who had been fortunate enough to make the kill.

Whether the fishermen were supporters of the MNLF or not; it did not matter any more. They could not support them now, and it had been a worthwhile practice run anyway. He knew that this was one bunch of possible Muslim guerillas that would not threaten his helicopter or any other members of the Armed Forces of the Philippines again.

**********

## CHAPTER 35

## CHANGE OF ADDRESS

### Linamon - Day 8

T.A. heard the yelling and running in the laneway at the front of the house. Though Omar had given some slack in the chain before he left, the new guard had shortened it. It was far too short for T.A. to get to the nearer right side window and see what was going on.

It was no good asking his new guard; he did not speak English. Though the guard was watching the activity through the left window furthest from T.A., whatever he could see was not being relayed to T.A.

The fevered activity continued for quite a while and soon he heard several people running up the staircase. Faces he had not seen before looked through the curtains at him. His guard left the bedroom and joined the activity in the lounge.

Minutes later he heard crying and wailing from the lounge. He had to guess it was the girls, but he wondered what had happened. Had their Father been killed? It had to be some event of enormity from the sheer number of different faces that had quickly looked through the curtains as though inspecting a strange animal at a zoo.

Soon after, women, heads covered in traditional scarves and wearing malongs, the local version of the Muslim chador, began to arrive. When the first of these peered through the curtains, T.A. pulled back on his chain. His first thought was that the wearer was a masked man about to beat him again. He felt his breath exhale when he realised what the significance of the covered head really meant.

Even with all the people in the next room, T.A. felt more isolated and lonely than he had over the previous days. The occasional sound of loud outburst of yelling; and the fleeting glimpses through the curtains, from women with masked faces, and men with hate in their eyes, were making him feel ill at ease, even though he had no idea of what was going on. Being gazed at while he was only wearing his underwear did not worry him, even though the women were shrouded from head to foot.

Thoughts of Siti kept coming into his mind. He sensed she needed comforting. He also knew that she could not come to him. Any suspicion to others of what had occurred between them would mean instant death to him and social ostracism for her.

Three women, heads covered in full faced scarves and bodies covered in malongs, entered through the curtains. The man who had been guarding him earlier stood slightly behind the women. One of the women stepped forward. He saw she was carrying a bowl of fish and rice. As she neared him she kneeled and gave him the bowl.

He looked up at the eye-slit and saw the beautiful dark eyes, then saw they were also red from crying with tears still in the corners. When she looked at his face he recognised and realised it was Siti. The look she gave him was an appeal for warmth and understanding that they both knew could not be given then. Very slowly she nodded her head backwards and forwards.

T.A. felt the nod cut him as much as any words that could not be said. She was saying goodbye with her eyes. It was touching him more than the magic touch he felt from her physical touch. He yearned to hold her close and protect her. He wanted to surround her with his arms and protect her from the pain from which she was suffering, whatever it was. Yet he did not want death now, and touching her the way he wanted to would have meant instant death. He did not want to add to her pain.

He barely had time to begin the rice and fish when six men entered the room and stood around him examining the chains. Then three men were behind him as two held his free leg and the other held the leg in the manacle.

He looked up and saw the monsoon shutters were still open. He thought that maybe it was still a couple of hours until sunset, then, revised that to 30 minutes, maybe. Even sitting down and being held, he focused his attention on the only tree he could see from this position. It was a marvellous one. So high and so proud and he was sure that in its time it must have yielded thousands of coconuts. Maybe its use was now spent. He could not see any fruit of any sort under the protection of the overhanging fronds at its top. Soon perhaps someone would chop it down and try to make some building planks.

His shoulders were grabbed and held. T.A. did not struggle, there seemed little purpose in it. An empty rice sack smelling of fish was placed over his head and loosely tied under his chin. He tried to keep the last vision of the tree in his mind to block out his fear.

He wanted to live. But why had something he did not know about seem suddenly to be threatening him? Why was he putting this young girl's feelings above what should be his natural instinct to save his own life?

He knew his breathing had become fast and shallow as he felt as though a fist was gripping the heart muscle under his chest. The goodbye had to come at some time, just not this way.

He heard sobbing. He guessed it must be Siti. Then the sobbing stopped and he heard her yell, "No!"

He felt a brief pain at the back of his head.

## \----------

### Maria Christina Hotel - Day 8

After returning from Linamon, Pater was not sure whether to think of the operation as a success or a failure. He passed on the promise of the token goodwill payment of P200,000 to the reporter Ruben Consuelo, but nothing about locating T.A.

Later that afternoon the bank agent had insisted that Pater sign for the delivery of the envelope and the P300,000 inside. It was P100,000 more than he had expected. Immediately, Pater phoned Consuelo and told him payment had been received. The reporter replied that the kidnapper had phoned after Pater's message and had expressed mixed reactions about the small but token payment.

He arranged for Henry and Joven to take the money to the newspaper office. Consuelo would arrange the passing of the money to the kidnapper.

Nilo expressed some concern that he might not be able to rent a banca without the owner insisting that he be part of the deal to ensure the return of property. To Pater this might not be a bad thing if the banca owner was familiar with the area around Linamon. And with the fear of being compromised in mind, the owner could not be Muslim.

Henry and Joven were back quickly. Though Nilo and the others were still out looking for a small banca to rent, Pater told Henry, Joven and Rangi of his plan. Then excluding Joven, they went to locate a shop they hoped would rent or sell the equipment they needed.

## \----------

### Linamon - Day 8

The six metre banca with its 3 visible passengers had moved back and forth along the coast as though trying to locate a favoured fishing spot. Apparently satisfied about one hundred metres offshore, the three occupants began to lay out some lines and drop what looked like heavy nets over the side.

There were several other fishermen in the area, though none closer than about four hundred metres to this particular banca, and all were much further seaward.

The moonlight was clear enough for them to see what they were doing, though still not yet a full moon.

Three figures other figures that had been hiding in the bottom of the banca and dressed in black, slipped over the side with the help of the three remaining on the banca. They paused in the shadow of the hull for a few seconds. Then, after taking a series of ever deepening breaths, they dived under the water.

Though they were not supposed to be trying to follow where the three swimmers had gone, the three visible fishermen looked at the empty sea between the banca and the shoreline.

It seemed and age before they saw first one, then a second, then a third stick shaped object appear above the flat seas surface. The sticks were snorkels, and were over half way to the shore.

After about one minute the snorkels disappeared and they waited again for them to reappear. When they did, they were nearly at the shoreline. This time the snorkels were followed by the appearance of three round objects beneath the snorkels; the heads of the swimmers.

For several minutes, the objects did not move. Then three bodies glided over the sand, and the start of the stony area, stomachs down.

Nilo cringed at the thought of the probable cuts the swimmers would be receiving from the shells littering the beach. The beach was only sandy up to the low water mark. Then started some rounded sea washed pebbles. Above that many of the stones had sharp edges. He realised that at least there should not be much broken glass from discarded beer bottles and Tanduay rum bottles. This was after all a Muslim area. But jetsam did float in after being tossed off all the passing boats in the area. Besides that the swimmers all had these strange rubber slippers that they had put on before donning their fins.

Nilo looked at his watch. It was nearly 10:00 p.m. He did not know how long they would have to wait. But he knew they would wait as long as they had to.

## \----------

Pater was pleased all the houses in the area were dark. The local street dogs were creating a din, though only temporarily as he un-wrapped his parcels of doped meat and threw pieces in the direction of the dogs that had quickly gathered around after the swimmers moved inland above the waterline. For the dogs it was like a gourmet meal. The best raw meat most would ever see in their lifetimes.

Soon the situation was still and quiet. They moved up under the porch of the house where they suspected T.A. was being held. The combination of their black outfits and being out of the moonlight made them invisible.

For ten minutes they waited to make sure there were no movements inside the house. It was a worry that they could not hear any snoring or the normal deeper breathing of a male. Pater had hoped to hear something that might reveal exactly where T.A. was.

They had barely moved into the cover of the undergrowth of the vacant section opposite the house when the barking of the some other more distant village dogs began. He was not unduly worried about them. It was the same in every barrio he had been in throughout the Philippines, and all the small villages throughout the world. Unless the inhabitants were on the alert for trouble, no-one ever bothered to look out their windows.

From their position they examined the house in more detail. With both the neighbouring sections being vacant, except for a few scattered trees and palms, and a large tree on the sea-shore side of the section, it was ideal for an unseen approach away from nosy neighbours that might choose an inopportune moment to look out a window, except for when they would have to cross the road.

The barking of the distant dogs no longer worried them. The immediate street dogs were already fast asleep. Normally the barking of the nearest dogs was picked up by the dogs in the adjacent streets and then the next street and so on until all the barrio dogs were barking. Pater knew that defeated the purpose of the dogs barking a warning. Nobody would know where the original warning was from.

He knew the next street dogs would continue until they had moved off the street and into or near a doorway. Then progressively the surrounding dogs would fall silent.

Through the removed planks of the downstairs former two story house they tried to figure out the floor plan of the upstairs residence.

The position of the stairs was obvious. The crude plumbing suggested which area was the kitchen.

Therefore the bedroom would probably be to the left of the house as they faced it. The monsoon shutters seemed to confirm that. Pater worried that there might be two bedrooms, one behind the other. A quick check of the house from the back seemed to confirm that was the case, unless it was one enormous room.

He nodded at Henry who examined the door. His nod gave him the reassurance that it was not going to be a problem. He returned Henry's nod which Henry took as indication to start work on the door. Within seconds the locks were beaten, then, he slipped his long knife through the crack and lifted the beam out of the cleats. That had been lowered behind the door as extra security.

He slipped his hand behind the door and pulled the beam out-side to prevent it rattling to the floor when the door was fully opened.

Rangi took up his position with his back to the door to watch for any unwanted attention. Pater and Henry made ready to enter and quietly opened the door after Pater had squirted a little oil on the hinges.

The next street dogs stopped barking.

Pater's attempt at a silent footfall on the first step was immediately thwarted by the groaning staircase. He pocketed his pistol and opened another plastic bag to remove a roll of wide masking tape. After putting the roll over his left wrist, he un-wrapped his maglite torch from another waterproof bag and held that in his left hand, then withdrew his pistol again. Henry did likewise. Pater moved his hands up and down rapidly to indicate a charge up the stairs instead of even trying to attempt a surreptitious entry. Henry nodded. This was quick entry and surprise.

Immediately he turned on the torch he began running up the stairs taking them three at a time. It seemed the noise of the groaning staircase in the nights silence would wake all the neighbours within 50 metres.

Quickly flashing the beam around the room at the top of the stairs Pater saw there were two figures laying on thin mattresses. One slowly stirred and began to sit up. Pater grabbed the figure and taped the mouth before it could scream then quickly secured the arms and legs with tape. There was virtually no struggle. Henry did the same with the smaller figure who slept through the whole procedure.

Pater shone the beam on the curtains of the forward of the two rooms. Then he flicked the beam on the curtains of the back room. Henry understood that he was meant to take the back room. Both of them switched off their torches.

Pater moved forward and stopped outside the curtain of the front room. Standing to one side of the door he pushed the curtain aside and peered in. The room looked empty in the little light that came through the shutters, but he could not be sure because the use of the torch had affected his night vision.

He switched on his torch again and rapidly played the beam to the far walls before stepping in and checking the walls he had just been standing behind.

The room was empty except for a thin mattress and some dirty rags on it. Then he saw the chains. Pater waited for any sound from Henry. There was none. Henry came cautiously through the curtains and played the beam of his torch over the same items that Pater had noticed.

Quietly Pater said, "Looks like someone's been a prisoner here."

Henry nodded. "What about the two outside, did you see they're both girls?"

"I thought the one I tied up was small."

"What do you reckon?" asked Henry.

"Rangi is sure this is the right house. Maybe he's been shifted."

"Are you sure you're not clutching at straws. Maybe it wasn't T.A."

Pater paused for a moment. "I didn't want to ask anyone anything. Just in and out. We might have to ask the girls. Bring the bigger one in here."

Within a couple of minutes Henry had carried the bigger girl in and laid her on the mattress.

"The other one is still fast asleep," said Henry.

Pater shone the torch into the girl's eyes. Not as a means of interrogation but to prevent the girl being able to concentrate her gaze on his face. He felt sorry for her. Her eyes were wide open in terror, but the way she had been trussed up prevented her from much movement of any sort.

Pater wondered how he was going to talk to her. She seemed like she might be a pretty thing when she grew up and used a limited amount of make-up in the right places. She had a few small pit marks on her face, probably from infected mosquito bites suffered in her younger days. He would have to use his limited knowledge of Visayan, the main language of the south. He was wishing Nilo was here to translate. He crouched.

"Just nod your answers yes or no. Do you understand?"

Her wide fear expressing eyes seemed not to understand.

Pater pointed at the chains. "Was somebody here?"

She nodded yes.

"Were they taken away?"

Again nodding yes.

"Was he Japanese?"

She nodded no. Pater looked up at Henry.

"Was it another man?"

She nodded yes.

"Did you know his name?"

Yes, she nodded.

"Did he call himself T.A.?"

Yes, she nodded. Then Pater noticed the tears begin in her eyes. He fought against the thought that the tears meant something bad had happened.

"Is he still alive?"

She nodded yes.

Pater looked at Henry who was looking totally confused because he did not understand any of the conversation carried on in Visayan.

"What's happening?" Henry asked Pater. "Is he still alive or what?"

Pater noticed the mouth gagged girl nod yes once again. He turned to her and this time spoke in English.

"Do you understand English?"

Yes she nodded.

"I am going to remove the tape over your mouth. You will not scream? Do you promise?"

Yes.

Pater was as gentle as he could be to try and remove the tape without causing pain. But the girl seemed stoic about the whole thing.

When the last of the tape was removed, Pater waited a few seconds, ready to clamp his hand over her mouth if she began to scream. Satisfied that she wasn't, he asked, "Where is T.A.?"

"Some of my uncles and their friends took him away after my Uncle Omar and his family were all murdered."

"Who murdered them?"

"The Air Force."

Pater decided not to pursue that topic. "Did your relations blame T.A.?'

"I don't think so."

"Why did they shift him?"

"Nobody wanted to stay here to guard him, so they took him somewhere else."

"Why didn't they release him when they found out he was not the Japanese?"

"The others all still think he is. It was only my uncle Omar and us that know he is not."

"Oh God. Why didn't your uncle say something?"

"If he had told the others, they probably wouldn't have believed him. If they did, they would have killed T.A.. They were going to kill the Japanese anyway as soon as they got the money."

"Do you know where T.A. is now?"

"No. But one of my uncles or my Father's friends will have him hidden somewhere. I can find out tomorrow and tell you tomorrow night."

"Why do you want to help us?"

Siti looked down with embarrassment. "T.A. and I are in love."

Pater looked away and up at Henry. He saw Henry had frowned. Pater rolled his eyes at Henry in response, then, looked back at Siti. When Siti lifted her head and looked back at Pater he saw tears had begun to form in her eyes.

Pater put his open palm on the top of her head.

"OK. We will leave now. You cannot tell anyone we were here. We will come back one hour later tomorrow night, at 11:00 P.M. Then you can show us where T.A. is."

Siti nodded.

Pater stood and all three went to the lounge. Henry gently removed the tape from Zahra's ankles then her wrists. He grinned in disbelief while he was doing it. Zahra was still so deeply asleep that she had shown no reaction to what Henry was doing. He realised that it would not be as easy to remove the tape from her mouth.

"I'll take it off her after you've gone," said Siti. "If she wakes I'll tell her I put it on her because she was snoring."

Pater and Henry quickly checked around to make sure there was no evidence of their being there. They nodded at Siti and left down the noisy staircase.

Joining Rangi, they stayed as much in the shadows as they could before reaching the pebbly beach. The more distant dogs had started their barking again. The three figures made a quick dash into the water and were already 20 metres offshore before they stopped to put on their face masks with fitted snorkels and their fins.

## **********

## CHAPTER 36

## THE CAVALRY

### Maria Christina Hotel - Day 9

It was almost 2:00 am. By the time Pater and his group, excluding the rented fisherman, returned to the hotel. Immediately on arriving, Pater sent Nilo to all the rooms to wake the helpers. When the whole group, in various states of dress and alertness had assembled in Pater's room, they listened while he narrated a censored version of what they had done that night. Then he told what he had planned for the next night.

After some questions, he dismissed them all except for Marivic, Nilo, Henry and Rangi. He was not surprised at the objections raised by the first two, but was pleased to see his Maori helpers grinning wider with each of his explanations.

He set Nilo his tasks and codes to learn for the next day, then sent them all to their own rooms. Ferreting through his backpack, he pulled out two long socks. Tomorrow, on the way to their destination, he would fill those with sand. Right now he needed a short sleep. What he had planned would make the next day a long one.

## \----------

### Paradise Plantations – Day 9

Ueda woke immediately the hand touched his shoulder. His instinct told him there was no threat in the action, though it was strange.

He immediately sat up and though the room was not lit by anything more than moonlight he saw it was Yamada crouching by his floor mattress. Ueda sat up and crossed his legs in a lotus position.

"I've found it my friend, I've found it." Yamada spoke with a joy in his voice that Ueda had not heard for a few days. Perhaps he had been prejudging the need for a severance in the relationship.

"My esteemed Grandfather had in fact drawn a remarkably accurate position on his map as long as the three rocks were correctly aligned," he went on.

"Have you dug it up already?"

"No, no. The returns on the detector are so strong I knew it couldn't be anything else. So I dug up one of the smaller returns." Yamada turned round and held up a large dirt covered glass jar.

Ueda noticed how similar it was to the saki storage bottle his Father used to keep his home made rice wine in.

Yamada removed the already loosened stopper and then lifting what was obviously a very heavy item, inverted the bottle slightly pouring several darkened coins into the space between Ueda's legs. Ueda picked one up and looked at it trying to make some sense of it in the poor light. "What are these?"

"Spanish gold coins. The dates are printed on some of them though at this stage I can't read them. I just don't know which way to deal with this. They will have enormous collectors value. Most will have been smelted locally. But if I have to I'll melt them down for the gold value." He swept his hand behind him.

Ueda saw what he was pointing out. There were three more similar jars.

"They're so heavy. It took me over an hour just to bring these jars. This was all that was in that small cache. I know it will take hours to dig up the large cache. I wouldn't get anything much out before the workmen arrived. We'll have to do that tomorrow night. We'll take the truck down and load directly into it."

Ueda looked around for his watch which he always removed before he went to sleep.

"About 4:00 A.M., one and a half hours to sunrise," said Yamada guessing at what Ueda was looking for.

"We're gonna be rich, I really want to get it all out if I can." Yamada went on, "I'll be richer than I ever thought possible."

Ueda noticed how quickly Yamada had switched from the we, to the I. Then perhaps his 'we' might have meant his family. The 'we' certainly meant both of them would be digging and Ueda would probably be the one taking the risks smuggling it out through Zamboanga. He thought about other things while Yamada talked on about his new wealth.

## \----------

The jeepney pulled into exactly the same spot it had before, but this time facing up toward the area of the plantation. Again Nilo and Marivic would play the lovers if unexpectedly approached.

"You both know all the signals for what's to be done. All our lives might depend on the right action. Are you sure they're stuck in your mind?" asked Pater.

Nilo checked the r/t was switched on and close at hand. "Yes."

Pater re-checked that his mobile phone was switched off and the volume of his r/t was at zero. He knew of operations elsewhere that had been compromised by a badly timed incoming call.

Then with Henry and Rangi, also dressed in black, the three slipped out the open back door.

Nilo turned around to see if he could see them this time. Despite the moonlight he was once more frustrated that their disappearance seemed so easy and so complete.

The trio stopped short of the clearing where they saw the dark figure working over the cleared area to the right side of the road on the previous visit. Edging along in the shadows to the road's left they watched and waited for ten minutes. Their target was not where Pater had hoped he would be.

That meant switching to the next plan. At his signal the trio moved off, ten metre spaces between them. Hugging shadows they moved further up the road, at a steady jog, toward the hut and storage facilities of the plantation.

Immediately the buildings could be seen they stopped and waited for five minutes looking for any movement. There was none. No lights were showing.

The open ground and the noise of any footfalls over the road metal would again make any totally silent approach difficult.

Pater signalled to Henry and Rangi to check the storage and garage area. He watched as they moved away to the far end of the clearing before making their approaches through the tree line, avoiding the metal area. When he was satisfied they had enough start, he moved off following the tree line to approach as near as possible to the nipa hut without walking on the gravel.

He paused where the tree line ran out and the gravel began. He was still about 15 metres from the hut. There was little breeze, but he was certain he could hear quiet voices coming from within. But what did that mean? Were there two people inside or more? He had hoped there would only be the Japanese, Yamada, but really expected there to be two people including Ueda. But what if there was more? More than two had not been part of his plan.

A shadow moving on the hut veranda caught his eye. He realised it must be Henry or Rangi. It was soon joined by a second shadow. His colleagues had already finished checking the other buildings. Their arrival had been hidden by the shadows of the nearby buildings.

Pater moved slowly over the metal, making each footfall as light as possible. In the silence of the night his steps seemed to scream out a warning to the occupants of the hut. In the open, and side-lit by the moon, as he had to be to approach, he felt exposed. If the hut's occupants did hear anything and look out the window, he would not be able to see them. The inside of the hut was too dark to provide any outline. His first knowledge he had been seen might be his receiving a bullet in his chest. That thought didn't appeal.

Any haste though would counter his stealth.

## \----------

Ueda listened with pretended interest to Yamada's monologue about what he would do with the wealth. Ueda, though not genuinely tired, pretended he wanted to go back to sleep.

A sound similar to the crunch of metal came from outside. Ueda's senses heightened. But Yamada continued. Ueda tried to listen for the sound again and analyse what he had heard. Perhaps it was only the branch of a coconut tree splitting.

He thought about the wisdom of his ancestors surrounding their temples and homes with broad verandas with singing boards. It was not that the boards really sang, simply that they were joined in such a way that any footfall would create a loud creaking sound. This reduced the chance of surprise attack

The ornamental sand gardens, raked in their maximum beauty were for a similar purpose. It was designed to see if there had been any intruder who had sneaked through the guards. Here though, there was no danger. Who would want anything from them? There were hardly any canned supplies left. Then he realised that perhaps Yamada might be carrying a large sum of money. Now, in addition, there were the valuable gold coins in the saki jars.

Yamada continued on. Ueda did not want to be obvious about his disinterest in the conversation. He looked around for his watch.

"Still about 45 minutes before any light," offered Yamada. "You should think about getting yourself something to eat. I am expecting that you will have a busy day later."

## \----------

Pater pulled his r/t out of his belt, located the transmit button, then pressed it twice for two, three second, buzzes to Nilo's r/t, then after ten seconds he pressed it four times in short bursts. He waited about 20 seconds before repeating the signal.

Placing the r/t back in its pouch, he pulled the sand filled long sock out of his belt and adjusted his hand for a comfortable grip in his right hand. He flattened his back against the wall to the right of the door. Henry pulled his sand sock from his belt and flattened his back to the left of the door. Only Rangi, standing behind Henry, had drawn his pistol. He was the emergency insurance.

## \----------

Nilo was thankful the r/t had not signalled for his attention two minutes earlier. He had only just finished making love with Marivic. This was the second time it had happened. The first time was on the first trip to the plantation at the same spot.

He was already tiring of this search for T.A. He felt restricted in doing anything in the hotel with Marivic, just as she did. They both wanted to be together but both were afraid of Pater's reaction if they were caught.

As he leaned forward to start the motor, Marivic slid across the seat to be as close as possible and kissed him on the cheek.

Nilo switched on the headlights and put the gear shift lever into first gear. Marivic's placed her hand on top of his. Slowly the jeepney moved up the road toward the plantation.

Every 50 metres, Marivic took her hand off the gear shift lever, grasped his genitals with the other hand pushed the horn twice while squeezing his genitals gently in unison with the horn noise. Both of them grinned.

## \----------

Ueda sat up when he thought he heard the distant sound of a vehicle horn. He was certainly not expecting any of the workmen to arrive early. That would be out of character, except for the unfortunate foreman a few days previous.

Yamada continued on with his monologue, not having heard the distant sound. Though Ueda wanted to tell his employer to be quiet; that would have shown disrespect, so he tried to filter out the sound of the voice.

Again he heard the sound. This time it was closer and very distinct. This time Yamada heard it too and stopped talking.

Ueda put his hand under his futon, pulled out his .22 and slipped it behind his back and under his now dirty and crinkled barong. He was surprised to see that Yamada was also holding a pistol. Before this, he had not been aware that Yamada had one.

Ueda motioned to Yamada to move back to the wall furthest away from the road. Then Ueda moved to the window, though standing back from it so none of his body was beyond the frame.

Light beams from the headlights of the approaching vehicle were just making themselves visible on the trees and leaves of the rain forest opposite to the open entry of the drive into the storage and turn-a-round area.

Mindful of what had happened to the previous unexpected visitor, Ueda decided he would greet these visitors before they got too close to the nipa hut; perhaps when they pulled into the gravel area. He was unsure of what Yamada's reaction might be, especially with him unexpectedly producing a pistol.

It mystified Ueda why the approaching vehicle would be sounding its horn. At this time of night there should not be animals on the road, maybe there was though. The horn sound indicated there was no intent at a silent and sneaking approach.

He pulled open the inward swinging door and paused inside. He would not emerge until the vehicle was adjacent to the plantation buildings and was going to turn into the area. Perhaps it might be someone lost or looking for a local inhabitant. Either way he would give them a warning about trespassing on private roads and property when they turned on the gravel area.

The offending vehicle, a jeepney, eventually came into view and slowed at the outer rim of the turning area. Checking that his pistol was securely inside his belt under his barong, he stepped out of the door.

A sudden flash of stars appeared in his eyes at the same time as he felt the dull thud to the back of his head which wrapped around to his ears. He fought to retain his balance, then tumbled forward to the edge of the wooden veranda, and fell the extra few centimetres to the surrounding gravel. He sensed a figure had jumped over him and rushed through the doorway. A sudden overwhelming desire to sleep overtook him. He did not try to fight it.

As soon as he hit the bodyguard across the back of the head with the sand filled sock, Pater jumped the falling figure and ran through the door into the hut, moving to the left. Henry followed through the door but was moving to the right. The falling bodyguard was now the responsibility of Rangi.

Two loud reports from a pistol sounded from the far wall, the flame fleetingly lighting up the room. Timber shattered behind Henry's moving figure.

Pater and Henry dived onto the floor.

Rangi fired two shots through the open door for effect, aiming high.

Pater had not been expecting this degree of readiness or resistance from the Japanese. In the small confined space of the room someone might get shot too easily. He did not know the calibre or type of weapon the Japanese had so he could not guess how many rounds might be in the magazine.

Though his eyes were already accustomed to the dark, the light inside was insufficient to clearly make out shapes. From the sound of the shots and the flame he guessed roughly where the Japanese was. He tossed the sand sock to the left of where he thought the Japanese was. The Japanese responded by firing two more shots at the sound where the sock hit the wall. The reports and the flame from the barrel enabled Pater to establish the Japanese's position within centimetres. It also seemed that he was right-handed.

Henry then threw his sock to the right of the Japanese who turned away from Pater and fired two more shots where the sock hit the wall.

Immediately the Japanese fired, Pater ran toward the figure hoping to grab the Japanese's gun arm and pin him against the wall. Concentrating on where he guessed the Japanese gun arm was, Pater made a frantic grab. His right hand missed, but his left managed to get a grip below the elbow which he pushed downwards. The power of his charge had spun the Japanese further around so he was facing the back wall with his body pressed against it and his arm held there by Pater's weight. The Japanese fired two more shots which went into the floor.

Pater had managed to get a secure grip with his right hand on the Japanese gun hand, but the Japanese had begun pushing against the wall with his free arm. Henry smashed his full body weight into the Japanese back which pushed the Japanese harder into the wall. Pater gripped a finger holding the pistol and twisted it back. He heard the snap and the Japanese scream. It worked; the Japanese dropped the pistol.

Pater and Henry wrestled the Japanese face down to the floor. Henry pushed his knees into the Japanese's back as Pater dragged the Japanese's arms behind his back. Wrapping the wrists in masking tape, then running the strips up around the Japanese's neck and pulling tightly, the Japanese's shoulder blades stuck out prominently.

Pater noticed the dislocated finger was still pointing backwards at right angles to the hand. Pater pulled hard on it to the screams of the Japanese, then, pushed it back into its normal position.

Henry placed a small tape over Japanese's mouth. Dragging him to his feet; Henry frog-marched the Japanese out the door toward the waiting jeepney.

Rangi had taped the unconscious bodyguard's wrists and ankles, and taped his mouth. Immediately the three had emerged from the hut, Rangi struggled to drag the bodyguard into the hut.

Pater was searching the small hut with his flashlight. By the time Rangi and Pater had emerged, the Japanese was already on the floor in the back of the jeepney and covered with a blanket.

Pater guessed that maybe they still had about 30 minutes to first light. The jeepney pulled off the gravel and onto the plantations private road for the bumpy trip to the highway.

## **********

## CHAPTER 37

## WAITING TO EXCHANGE

### Linamon - Day 10

T.A. tried to lift his hands to his head to push his palms into his temple and ease the pain. He could not. His hands were bound to his thighs with a straight plank underneath. He tried to move his head to his hands. He could not. His back and shoulders were likewise tied to a plank behind him.

The headache he was feeling was worse than any other he had ever had. The whistling in his ears was so high pitched he was sure it had to come from some outside source.

He knew he was making moaning sounds and taking short sharp breaths through his teeth. He could not stop himself, the pain was too acute. Tensing his face muscles to screw up his face did little to help. After a few seconds his face muscles started to cramp and ache.

He was sure he had been knocked unconscious again, but did not know why. His thoughts shifted to punch-drunk boxers. Would all these beatings he had suffered cause him permanent brain damage?

Looking through half opened eyes he could see that dull light was coming through windows to his front. Was it the last light of the day or the new light of the morning?

The light was coming from an unexpected angle. Fighting the pain behind his eyes, he forced them wider to check his surroundings. It was all different. Had he been shifted to a different room? He looked up at the ceiling. That too was different. He must be in a different house.

He could only look briefly before he had to close his eyes tight again to prevent the ache from worsening. Every place he looked he noticed something else was different. His mind flashed to thoughts of Siti. Where was she? Did she know what was happening? He wanted her gentle touch with her cool wet rags to wipe the pain away.

He tried again to move his hands to his forehead and could not. Looking down he saw the same chains that had been binding him for days, or was it years, were supplemented with ropes. Their restriction of his movement was because the chains around his wrists were also fixed around a floor to ceiling beam. A separate chain then bound his legs to the same beam. The ropes all seemed to be tied just to the plank.

When he realised that the light was getting brighter he knew that it was sunrise, not sunset.

As his sense of smell began to return, the first thing he noticed was that he had once again soiled his clothes and the surrounding floor. The urine stench, even if it was his own, was strong enough to make him screw up his nose. Did it matter? The only clothes he was wearing were his underwear anyway. Though, the thought of permanent kidney damage from all the kicking and beatings also began to worry him. Bladder control had never been a problem before.

The slow return of his other senses began to bring other discomforts. The mosquitos had enjoyed a feast while he slept. Their bites were screaming to be scratched. The restriction to his movement meant he could not. Now he wondered, if he got out of this, would he be a malaria-suffering punch-drunk boxer?

## \----------

### Iligan - Day 10

Pater, with Rangi and Marivic, had returned to the hotel by taxi after leaving Henry and Nilo, parked up in a secluded, sheltered and shaded area near Iligan. The latter two were left to 'baby-sit' the trussed up Yamada.

After slipping a note under Joven's door, Pater took a long shower before crawling between the cool clean sheets. He wanted to get four hours sleep before the front desk phoned him with the 11:00 A.M. call.

## \----------

### Paradise Plantations - Day 10

Ueda had rolled and dragged himself into the shadow of the nipa hut.

He estimated that he must have been unconscious for almost two hours. The position of the sun was barely above tree top level. Its heat had not yet begun to take effect. He knew he had get out of the direct sun as its debilitating effect would weaken him as he fought to free himself of the bindings. Whoever had tied him with tape knew what he was doing.

Tape bound his wrists behind his back, the backs of his hands taped together. Then tape from his wrists wrapped around his elbows several times before crossing around and in front of his body. Tapes around his ankles then forcibly bent his knees as the tapes were then run up to the bindings around his wrists.

The knife he carried on his belt was gone. That was to be expected as it would have been close to his hands even if they were bound behind his back. What he had not expected was that the small knife he hid, strapped to the inside of his left leg was also gone from its sheath.

He knew he could get free, but it would take time even using the rough corners of the nipa hut.

He cursed at the lack of curiosity of the workers that should be at the area they should be clearing. Surely at least one of them should have come to check why he was not there to give last minute instructions.

His mouth was dry. When he licked his lips to moisten them he tasted the dried blood. He knew he had fallen on his face and the stinging was from the small pieces of gravel that had embedded into his skin. He would fix that with a good sterilising wash once he was free.

As he worked the tape against the edge of the hut he was trying to recount how many people he had seen in the jeepney. It had been before sunrise. Were there two? Or had he imagined it?

Other details came back slowly. The moon had provided some outline, it had still been dark, he was just not as certain of some of the details as he would have wished. His mind kept returning to the jeepney that the priest had been in when he had visited. He would check that out once he was free. The priest had asked him to call on him and he still had the address that the priest had left.

## \----------

### Linamon - Day 10

Though T.A. could hear the sounds of people talking and movement in the next room, no-one had, as far as he was aware, even looked into his room. He could only guess at the time. The sun had been up for several hours. He had once again been lapsing into unconsciousness.

Through the window he could see some trees. The angle of the shadows from the leaves and branches suggested that it was probably mid-morning.

His dry mouth and undiminished headache made time pass slower than the shadows indicated. He was wishing he could see Siti. Though he was still a prisoner as he was before, at least previously he was fed and given water.

## \----------

### Paradise Plantations - Day 10

Neither of the vehicles started. They had been sabotaged. Though he was not a mechanic, Ueda knew enough to realise that he would not get either started without qualified help.

Some of the gravel embedded in his face had been difficult to remove. Blood had caked over them and they had already begun to work their way deeper into his flesh. Squeezing them out as he would a pimple had proved to be the most successful means, painful as it was. There was no disinfectant available. In the meantime he would have to tolerate any infections, and they were probable in this climate. His priority and duty was to get transport from those clearing the field and find Yamada.

## \----------

### Maria Christina Hotel - Day 10

Pater had watched Henry, Rangi and Nilo come and go with their two hour shifts guarding the Japanese held in the jeepney. Food and drinks were important in the heat. Pater could not let any of his group, or the Japanese become dehydrated.

After his early morning call to the reporter, Pater had to spend what he thought of as wasted time at the bank. He knew his credit card was taking a battering but he was literally buying time.

The kidnapper was insisting on more money immediately or he would begin returning the victim in pieces beginning with the fingers. Pater had to pay the bank manager 30,000 pesos to get 300,000 pesos in cash. It irked him that even if though his letter of credit was good and the guarantors from Swagman gave additional security, the manager still wanted extra for himself before he approved the release of cash.

Although he knew the reporter held P300,000 already forwarded from Ueda through Seville, the extra was a further attempt to placate impatient demands.

By lunch time the cash was with the reporter. Both hoped it would forestall any action by the kidnapper for at least 24 hours. By then, Pater hoped he would have exchanged the real Japanese for T.A. If he could retrieve his cash he would, though he was not too concerned. The value of the coins inside the three jars they had removed from the nipa hut would more than repay his costs even split three ways. It was enough for them all to retire on.

## \----------

### Linamon - Day 10

When the two figures entered the room, even with their faces covered with scarves and wearing malongs, T.A. instantly knew who they were. The appearance of Siti and Zahra made his heart soar with want of Siti, even with Zahra being in the room as well.

Siti did not speak as she knelt in front of him and put a glass of cool water to his lips. He coughed violently as the first drops of water hit the back of his throat. Siti placed her hand gently behind his head even though the coughing was spurting mists of water at the eyes and into the veil mask Siti was wearing.

As soon as he stopped coughing he looked at Siti's eyes. He wanted her to hold him close as she had done on too few of those previous nights at her Father's house. Through his befuddled thoughts he could hear her whispering something. He could not make it out.

Was she whispering her thoughts and feelings? He could not understand. His ears were still ringing from his headache. And he was feeling faint again. He could not read her lips as they were covered with the veil. But the eyes seemed to be saying so many things.

After a while he had managed to consume all the water without gagging and spluttering. Siti stood up and moved away slightly. Zahra came forward with a plate of rice and fish and knelt in front of him. She avoided eye contact as she slowly fed him with a spoon.

T.A. wondered if she would blossom into the same pretty thing her sister had become. T.A. looked past Zahra at Siti, regretting that he could not discern the words she had whispered. He tried to speak between spoonfuls, but as soon as he opened his mouth to speak, Zahra would put the spoon in his mouth again.

He was too hungry to object. Though the distraction of Siti's eyes meant he could not seem to hold a constant thought in his mind for more than a few seconds before drifting onto another. It was like drunkenness. He wondered if he had already become punch-drunk and brain damaged.

As soon as the small plate of fish and rice was empty, Zahra moved back again and Siti re-took her place in front of him. She had another glass of water and slowly let its drops trickle between his lips. Again she was whispering. Again he could not understand what she was saying but he knew it was obvious Siti did not want Zahra to hear what was being said. There were only two words, widely apart in what she said that he heard clearly. His heart soared at the thought of what she might have said. "Friends" and "tonight". It was obvious that somehow she was going to come to him tonight and they would be friends together again. No matter how brief, he knew it would give him a reason to fight for his life.

He knew he should not feel this way about someone who was barely 16 years old, but he knew he needed some support and comfort. This young girl was the only thing that he could relate to at this time. She was his only taste of reality and reason in this crazy world that had thrown him into this situation, whatever it was.

He had wondered what had become of Omar. T.A. had not seen him since this transfer to the new location. Also he had not seen the one with so much hatred in his eyes since the kidnapping from the Nissan Patrol. How many days ago was that anyway?

Too soon, Siti and Zahra had left the room. T.A. was left wondering if he would see Siti this evening. He hoped so. He had long since given up being embarrassed about urinating where he lay.

He looked out the window to try and estimate what the time might be, then wondered what time Siti might be able to sneak in to see him. It seemed like late afternoon. That meant it could be many hours before he would see her.

## \----------

### Maria Christina Hotel, Iligan

After paying one of the contractors to take him to Iligan and wait while he made some purchases of clothing, Ueda booked into the Maria Christina Hotel. The more he thought about the previous night's incident, the more he was convinced that the jeepney he saw was the same one used by the priest. But had they taken Yamada? Or had Yamada just gone and left him? With the exception of two gold coins on the floor, the saki jars and their precious contents had all gone.

He knew he was at a disadvantage in trying to be inconspicuous in his surroundings. His size and Japanese appearance always drew attention. That was now worsened by the gravel scratches and the red welts on his face from his fall at the plantation. He knew he had to watch for the priest without the priest being aware of his being there.

Immediately he entered his room he stripped for a long and welcome bath which he followed with a shower. He ordered room service and when the room-boy delivered the meal, he paid him well. As the room-boy was about to depart; Ueda called him back as though he had suddenly had an after thought.

"Do you have a priest staying here?"

"No sir, I haven't seen one," replied the boy.

"Oh. What about any Europeans?"

"Yes sir, there are several English speakers here at the moment."

"What about any white Europeans?"

"Oh yes sir. There is only one. I know which one you mean. He is mostly with two very large men who look like Filipinos, but they aren't. There are about 12, maybe 15 in that group, mostly Filipino. They come and go, sometimes together, sometimes in small groups. The European often uses room service."

Ueda paid him more money and watched the eyes of the room-boy widen in appreciation. The room-boy willingly answered all of Ueda's follow up questions and volunteered more information than Ueda had thought about, but it was useful nevertheless.

After the room-boy left, Ueda ate his meal while he thought about the priest. There was more to the man than he had considered. If his new information was correct, the behaviour did not seem to be that of a priest. If he was not a priest, then what was he doing becoming involved in this sham kidnapping which had now possibly become a real kidnap? Who was this priest who was not a priest?

He tucked his newly acquired illegally obtained pistol into his newly acquired oversized waist bag and went downstairs to the reception area. He found a single seater lounge chair and moved it slightly to a position where he could see all those coming and going. Then, to the amazed stare of one of the receptionists, he moved one of the pot plant containers to make his presence in the chair difficult to be seen, though he could still see through the foliage. He noticed the hotel clock above the reception desk showed 4:48 P.M.

## \----------

### Linamon - Day 10

The sun had set and T.A. was left alone in the darkness of the room. The ringing in his ears had gone and he could hear the voices through the thin door, and was sure that one of them was Siti. It seemed that the food and water he had been given had eventually stopped his headache.

As if in answer to his thoughts about Siti, the door opened. Two figures wearing scarves and malongs entered. One carried two candles, the other a glass and a bowl. Behind them, two men entered, both with handkerchiefs tied around the lower half of their faces. T.A. could not guess who the women were, the light was insufficient. He hoped one of them was Siti.

The women stood back as the men un-padlocked several of the chains which had cramped him, and removed the planks which had kept him totally immobile. With surprising care they helped him sit up. Within minutes he knew he had been given extra mobility, though they had limited it to the length of a short chain around his left leg. This at least meant he could reach the bucket for his ablutions. His hands were now chained in front of him.

The men left the room, leaving the door open. The taller of the two women advanced and thrust a glass of water at him. T.A. took the water between his palms and gulped it too quickly. He started coughing and brought up much of the water he had swallowed.

In the dull light of the back-lit face covered figure, he tried to see who it was that had given him the drink. It was not Siti. The same women then offered the bowl. He took that in both hands. A flat wooden stick was stuck into the mess, presumably to serve as the spoon. From its aroma he guessed it was fish and rice again.

The shortness of the bindings between his wrists made the attempts at holding the bowl and using the spoon impossible. The veiled woman realised his predicament and took the bowl from his hand. Then with the care of a mother feeding a baby began to spoon feed him.

T.A. kept glancing at the other veiled woman in the room. The candles that she held were directly in front of her face. Only the eyes were visible behind the veil she wore and they gave no sign of recognition. T.A. had wanted it to be Siti.

As soon as the bowl was empty, the woman feeding him closed the window shutters and both women left. Once again he was in darkness. There was no way he could estimate the time. There was no way he could estimate how long before Siti could visit him.

## **********

## CHAPTER 38

## NIGHT CALLERS

### Maria Christina Hotel, Iligan.- Day 10

With the exception of three men guarding Yamada, Pater had gathered his group in his room and told them of his plans. There were few questions.

At 6:30 P.M. he led the group downstairs and into the reception area. He looked at each of them as they filed past him into the dining room. They would all eat well as they presumed it would be their last free hotel meal at his expense. As soon as they had finished eating, he would have to get to the banca to take them with Henry, Rangi and Joven, and their equipment by sea to Linamon.

The others, under Nilo's leadership, would have to get transport to the jeepney where Yamada was held. Then depart to wait outside Linamon.

As each of them emerged from the dining room after eating, Pater thanked each one personally for helping. He knew that if the operation was successful that night, he was unlikely to see any of them again.

Pater was not aware of the eyes watching his farewell to the group, or that those eyes were trying to remember each face as it passed.

## \----------

Ueda watched the one he knew as Father O'Reilly shake the hands of each of the group as they left the hotel. The Father was certainly wearing black clothing, as might be expected for that profession. The two large and the one small Filipinos who had remained with him after the others had departed were also in dark clothing.

He could hear the voices, all the conversation was in English. But there was no trace of the strong Irish accent that the Father had been affected by earlier.

He watched this group of four leave through the front door of the hotel. He knew if he wanted to follow them there was a risk that he might lose them immediately they took whatever transport they might be going to use. He had to hope there would be another taxi available immediately he went outside.

He waited, unseen, inside the front door. The group crammed themselves into the small taxi. The small Filipino squashed in the back between his two large countrymen and the priest sitting beside the driver.

Immediately the taxi pulled away, Ueda ran outside the door and looked for an empty taxi. One driver on the opposite side of the road saw the opportunity of transporting who he hoped might be a wealthy hotel patron. Swinging his taxi in a u-turn across the line of oncoming traffic, he pulled up in front of Ueda.

Ueda did not hesitate. He quickly seated himself beside the driver and pointed at the cab now about 40 metres ahead and moving further away.

"Follow it to wherever it goes. Keep with it and you'll get three times the fare. Lose it and you'll get nothing."

The small cab showed remarkable acceleration and within 300 metres they were only about 50 metres behind.

"That's close enough. I don't want my friends to know that I'm here." Ueda guessed that the driver was not taken in by his statement, but he did not care. The driver maintained a discreet distance as Ueda had hoped, and dropped further back when the traffic thinned.

After about 20 minutes the priest's taxi stopped on the side of the roadway where it nearly met the sea. The passing of the following cab went unnoticed by the four men walking from their taxi toward the waiting banca.

The passing taxi had continued on and stopped about 40 metres beyond. His driver switched off all his lights. Ueda watched through the back window and saw that the four passengers had already reached the beach.

The priest's taxi did a U-turn and drove away.

Ueda would have liked to have been closer but he had to compromise between seeing what he could from a distance and risk being seen if he got too close. He decided to wait at a distance.

The four figures moved onto the beach and toward a banca that was pulled onto the beach. Three more men were gathered around it. The priest and the two large Filipinos each dragged a large sack from the bottom of the boat. One of the fishermen shone a torch onto a bag being opened by one of the large Filipinos. The large Filipino pulled a set of fins out from the bag and slapped them together as if loosening clinging sand.

Ueda did not have to think too hard. They were checking diving equipment. As yet he had not seen any scuba tanks. He waited. There were none that he could see. He knew, from his limited experience, that if they had been going to use air tanks they would have checked those very thoroughly.

After a couple of minutes, the priest and his three colleagues got into the beached banca. The three Filipinos who had been waiting for new arrivals, now struggled as they pushed the passenger laden banca into deeper water. At the last second, one of the pushers scrambled aboard. Settling at the stern, he made two quick pulls on a rope. A noisy outboard motor chugged into life and they pulled away from the beach.

The taxi driver looked anxiously at his passenger who seemed unperturbed.

Ueda was watching the two Filipinos remaining on the beach as they were watching the banca move out to sea. Ueda pulled five 100 peso notes from his pocket and waved them in front of the driver.

"Ask the two men on the beach where the banca is going. Remember you are just curious. Don't tell them you have a passenger."

The driver took the money and headed toward the two now sitting on the sand and already starting to sip on a small bottle of Tanduay rum.

In less than five minutes the driver returned to his cab, a broad smile on his face.

"They said the banca was going to a barrio called Linamon. They don't know how long the banca will be gone, or even if all the passengers will be coming back with the banca."

Ueda gave the driver a further 100 peso note.

"Can you take me to Linamon?"

The driver gave a wide smile at his luck.

"Sure."

## \----------

Nilo was in no hurry in his driving the jeepney to Linamon. Travel there by road was both shorter and quicker than those going in the banca. A fast jeepney trip would have meant waiting longer in the danger area, surrounded by, or in too close a proximity to possibly hostile Muslims. Even though it would be dark, with few street lights, someone might recognise the jeepney as being the same one which carried 'the choir' a couple of days previously.

Any inspection of the passengers of the jeepney would reveal the unexplainable situation of a man bound and gagged lying on the floor between the seats.

Anyway, he had other things to think about. He decided he did not really feel guilty about what had been happening between T.A.'s girlfriend Marivic and him. After all, Marivic had told him that it was all really only a financial arrangement. Pater too had paid her, though not for sex but for her limited help in locating T.A.

Nilo too had received extra money from Pater. That combined with his large profit on the 'Rolex' copy watches he had sold in Manila meant he did not need to work for a while. Marivic's real work in Manila was not known in Iligan. Her family thought she was a well paid secretary.

He had not considered settling down with a woman before, but this Marivic was something special. Despite what she had been doing, she still had class. She had pride. The Philippines was a large place and Filipinos' did little travel out of their own districts so it was unlikely her prior occupation would ever be uncovered.

"Yes," he said. "Perhaps I will ask her to marry me."

"What?" said one of his passengers. "Are you asking me to marry you? You're too ugly!" Then the passenger burst out laughing.

"Oh no, not you," replied Nilo. "I was just thinking of someone else."

Nilo noticed he was already halfway to Linamon and slowed his speed even further. His thoughts drifted back to Marivic. He did not notice the taxi with the solidly built Japanese passenger pull past him rapidly, then slow down and stop. He did not even notice passing the taxi where it had stopped or that the taxi then pulled back on to the road following about 60 metres behind his jeepney.

Nilo decided that he would stop about three kilometres before Linamon and wait to hear from Pater on the radio transmitter.

When he guessed he had arrived near enough to three kilometres from his final destination, he slowed and pulled off to the right of the road to wait, and switched off his lights.

He did not notice the taxi, now 50 metres behind, did the same thing.

## \----------

### Iligan

Salim Hassan knew that he would be getting the rest of the money tomorrow. Currently was carrying the 600,000 pesos he had been given already in a money belt under his shirt. It would be foolish to risk losing that.

He had never taken a taxi. He had never been able to afford it. Now he could. He separated a few notes from the large bundle and put those in his pocket. He did not want to be seen digging into a hidden money belt.

He looked for a taxi that had a sign 'air conditioned', and waved it to come and get him.

"How much to Linamon?" he asked the driver.

The driver looked at the passenger's dirty clothes.

"More than you can afford," replied the driver.

Salim flashed the P500 note. "Is this enough?"

"Just tell me how fast you want me to get you there," replied the driver.

"As soon as you can."

The driver looked at his watch. He had been going to go home at 10:00 P.M. It was already 9:15 P.M. He decided that his wife would accept his late arrival when he produced a P500 note. He gunned the engine and headed toward Linamon.

## \----------

The sea was smooth, Pater was thankful for that. It was not because he was not a good sea traveller, simply that a smooth sea made it easier while they were double checking the kit, then double packing the r/t's and weapons in water proof bags. The maximum amount of air had to be removed from each bag to reduce the upward pull of air in the bags. That always made sub-surface swimming more difficult. He did not have the luxury of a portable vacuum pump to remove any air, but would keep that idea in mind for the preparation of any future water transport missions.

Even though he had told the young girl, Siti, that he would meet with her at 11:00 P.M., Pater wanted to be in position by 10:00 P.M. Being ready so much earlier meant they would probably see anyone preparing to ambush them at the meeting place if Siti had betrayed them. He knew that he would have little control if she was going to lead them into a trap at some other place.

This time, if they were confronted by men of the local barrio, the locals would be armed. Even worse was the thought that the locals would have more powerful weapons. Henry, Rangi and he would only have pistols.

Pater had to presume that many of the locals had probably seen service with the Moro National Liberation Front (MNLF) or one of the many splinter groups. Therefore they would be well skilled in the use of any weapons. Also it was their local village and they would know every tree and house in the barrio. Pater knew they had to be ready for every possibility.

He knew he could not call those in the jeepney for help. They were all unarmed. Only there to carry Yamada to him and help carry T.A. out if he was not in any condition to walk. At this stage he did not know whether he would take T.A. away by banca or by jeepney. Whatever the circumstances were at the time of the rescue would dictate his decision.

It was 9:40 P.M. when the banca arrived 100 metres off the seaward end of the street in Linamon. The last item to be sealed against the water was the r/t. He switched it on.

"Pater here, are you ready. Report, over."

There was a 20 second delay.

"The Big N here. We're about three k's away from a big Mac. Just holding up here while we eat our fries." It was Nilo.

Pater looked at Rangi and Henry. The moonlight showed both were grinning at Nilo's response.

"Move your fries and baggage another two servings closer. Do you understand?" responded Pater.

"I'm intelligent as well as pretty. Will do as you ask."

"That's all for now. Over and out."

Pater realised that he too was grinning as he looked at the others.

"I hope that happiness was not as a result of Tanduay rum," said Pater, looking at his companions.

He began to seal up the r/t in one, then another water-tight package. He looked at Joven.

"I hope you're positive you know how to operate your's."

"Yes sir, I've been going through the sequences ever since we got on board."

"Good. And just remember; keep watching the shore for torch signals. We might end up with a busted radio."

Joven nodded.

With that, Pater, Rangi and Henry slipped over the side and began their swim for the shore.

## \----------

T.A. had no idea of the time. It seemed hours since he has been given any refreshments.

The loosened bonds had enabled him to reach the bucket to relieve his bladder. If Siti was going to visit him later, it would have to be a long time after the residents of this house had fallen asleep. That did not seem likely any time soon as he could hear several voices, both male and female coming from the room next to his.

Siti might decide not to visit. The risk of being caught might be too great. This place was not hers. How could she be expected to sneak in?

He decided to lie back on the smelly soiled rug beneath him, close his eyes and try not to think of the time. Though every time he thought he heard a sound by the door he could not resist opening his eyes in the hope it was Siti.

## \----------

1 kilometres east of Linamon

Two of the men remained in the jeepney to keep an eye on the prone, bound and gagged Japanese while the remainder milled around.

Nilo knew he had plenty of time to get into position. It was only 9:50 p.m.. He knew Pater was not meeting the girl until 11:00 p.m.. Any large group of men sitting in a jeepney in the barrio would attract attention. The mainly Muslim inhabitants might also suspect the jeepney occupants were mufti-dressed members of the Army.

Even though it would be late at night and the streets of such a small barrio should be deserted, Nilo did not want any curiosity aroused.

Two of his men began to casually saunter across the road when an unexpected blast from a car horn made them jump back onto the road's fringe. A taxi sped past heading west toward Linamon.

"He must be in a hell of a hurry to get to his mistress," quipped one of the group.

"Maybe he's already been with her too long and running late getting home to his wife," said another.

Nilo's thoughts drifted to Marivic. He would be pleased when this job was over and Pater, T.A. and all the others had gone. Then he could be with Marivic and not feel a little guilty about what he was doing.

Maybe he could raise enough finance to buy his own taxi. Then he could easily support Marivic and himself. He wondered how much the driver might be earning from his current fare paying passenger. He would never have believed the driver if the driver had told him this passenger was paying P500.

## **********

## CHAPTER 39

## LET SLEEPING DOGS LIE

Pater, Henry and Rangi put their masks, snorkels and fins under a large beached log. Keeping their water-logged rubber diving boots on as footwear for both silent movement and protection against the stony beach, they moved above the high water mark and off the beach.

The nearest barrio dogs immediately began their barking. The trio used the waist high undergrowth as cover to avoid any human eyes that might be looking out to see the cause of this disturbance.

Pater pulled a sealed bag from his waist band with his left hand, then drew his diving knife from the sheath on the outside of his right leg. Using the sharp edge, he sliced through one side of the covering of the eight sealed plastic bags he had wrapped around the package. He put his hand in and passed some of the bite size pieces of meat to Henry and Rangi.

Pater was hoping that there was no leakage of blood through the packaged meat. It should have been prevented by the additional coverings he had made. These were, after all, shark infested waters. As they might have to return to the banca, he hoped that sharks had not been attracted by any blood in the water. The trio would thoroughly wash their hands, as they had done the previous time, before returning to the sea.

The dogs in the adjacent streets had now taken up the call and the source of the original intrusion was now well and truly lost to anyone looking out their window.

Henry and Rangi tossed meat in the direction of the dogs they could see. Those dogs greedily scoffed down the unexpected treat once again, and ceased their barking while they waited in hope for more. At least they were silent for now.

The trio sat silently in the long grass and watched the dogs settle. Each moved away to its favourite resting place and sat down. Within minutes the dogs had begun to lower their heads as they felt the gentle warmth of sleep begin to call. Their chins were soon flat on the ground. The smaller dogs, needing less of the sleeping potion, were quickest to succumb.

Barking from the dogs in the neighbouring streets soon ceased.

Pater, Henry and Rangi waited for a few minutes before moving slowly in a crouch through the undergrowth. They were soon in position in the empty section opposite the house they had visited the previous night where the young girl Siti and her sister lived.

The light was on in what they now knew was the lounge/dining/kitchen area. They could not hear any sound. The trio had made a visual check of the area as they settled in. There was nothing out of place and nothing that aroused any suspicion. After allowing a few more minutes to make sure all the nearby dogs were asleep, they would do a proper reconnaissance of the nearby surroundings and the back and sides of the house. Pater checked his watch. It was almost 10:00 p.m.

## \----------

T.A. could not sleep. He wanted to, but the combination of still aching bruises, sore muscles, and thoughts of a visit from Siti kept him awake. The occasional barking frenzies from the apparently owner-less dogs happened so often, for so many different reasons, that few people took any notice.

The voices in the next room were steady in their conversation but he had long given up trying to understand what they were saying. He simply did not know the language.

Marivic came into his mind. He compared her to Siti. Though Marivic was beautiful, she had been polluted and poisoned by the society in which she lived. The dividing line between truthful honest passions and emotions, and contrived actions, had been crossed too many times and were confused. The passions of Siti were still honest and natural. T.A. cursed that she was far too young.

Nilo came into his mind. Then, he thought that Nilo and Marivic would probably make a good couple. Both of them understood where they had come from and the reasons why they were at a particular point in their lives.

T.A. thoughts drifted to his homeland, and he wondered why he had ever left it. Life had certainly been quieter there. His travels and experiences since leaving had certainly taught him much. Many of the things he had learnt before his overseas adventures were irrelevant and unimportant. Newer and real life experiences had been showing him how different cultures dealt with and solved problems, some just in order to survive. How had he been so ignorant of those things before? Perhaps this added knowledge would really only make him discontent if he ever chose to return to New Zealand. His added knowledge was only extra grist for the mill of an over dinner conversation.

Then he began to wonder who was it who would be singing Maori songs outside his window a few days ago? Was it only a few days? It seemed longer somehow. Perhaps he had only imagined it all. Did any of it matter anyway? He did not even know why he was being held a prisoner like this.

T.A., until his shift, had previously managed to think positively, and that he would get out of this. But now, he could not shake the feeling that his situation was hopeless. Deep depression had hit him. He felt his body begin jerking. He knew he was sobbing.

## \----------

Pater, Henry and Rangi had barely completed their reconnaissance and moved back into position opposite the house when a taxi arrived about 10:15 p.m. A Filipino in his late 30's or early 40's emerged carrying a very small bag and ran quickly into the house.

The taxi reversed backwards and into the cross street, then moving forward, pulled away. The trio in hiding clearly heard a yell of delight from the driver as he pulled away. They wondered what had prompted that reaction from the driver. The taxi swerved to avoid a sleeping dog that had chosen the right hand side of the road as its bed. The taxi soon reached the main road and was gone. Few of the dogs even raised a head in interest, certainly none barked.

The trio watched, waited and listened. Pater wondered who this unexpected intruder was. Though, it had to be someone who was used to moving freely into the house without invitation. A relation? Maybe even the Father. At his last thought, Pater began to worry. The money he had given to the reporter, Ruben Consuelo, was supposed to be given to the kidnappers in the hope it would delay any early return to Linamon.

He wondered whether the money had been delivered. Then his mind considered the possibility that maybe he had got it all wrong and he was on a wild goose chase. No. The photo he had seen earlier was definitely of T.A.

The voices inside started to get louder. The man was obviously angry. His voice was loudest. Pater could hear Siti's voice, in dissent, though he did not know what it was about.

The man began screaming what were obvious obscenities and Pater heard slapping and then punches with bodies being thrown into walls. Both girls had begun screaming and crying.

Pater was tempted to charge in and smash the face of the intruder to a pulp for hitting the girls. Self discipline restrained him. He was here with a specific job to do. Gallant as his wishes might be, he knew emotion based action to protect the girls would probably jeopardise the whole mission.

He looked at Henry and Rangi. Their looks at him suggested that they wanted him to take action. He nodded in the negative to both of them.

The man walked out of the house, carrying a plate and the same small bag he had entered with. He stopped and threw the plate into the ground where it shattered. Then he turned left, walked to the crossroads and turned right.

Pater turned to Rangi and nodded. Rangi moved onto the roads verge and began to follow discreetly behind the bad tempered visitor.

Pater and Henry settled down to wait and hope that Siti would still emerge for their 11:00 p.m. meeting. It was still only 10:40 P.M.

## \----------

Salim Hassan felt guilty about slapping and punching his daughters. He knew he exacerbated the situation by pushing them away so violently. He remembered it had been his violence that had been, at least partly responsible, for his wife giving up hope.

But the reason for it all was Siti's preposterous idea that he had kidnapped the wrong man. It was a totally stupid suggestion. He could not think of why she would create such lies. And to suggest that his cousin Omar was the one who found out was an even worse lie. If Omar had found out, he would have told someone else, surely.

But now Omar was dead. Not just Omar, but his oldest son. Killed by the Catholic Manila Air Force. Why? Omar was not just his cousin, but also his best friend.

He knew he should not ask why. After all it must have been written in the book of life for it to have happened. Even so, he had to wonder why it had been written that way.

The dogs in the side street had started to bark at his approach. The chorus soon joined by those in the neighbouring streets. It was not unexpected. He was not a daily visitor to his brother's house, and the dogs in this area did not know him as well as the dogs around his house. They would stop quickly as they usually did when he did pass.

As he neared his brother's home the dogs behind him began a more urgent agitated barking. He stopped and looked around. He could not see any reason for the increased commotion. Then he noticed two of the dogs appeared to be fighting over some small scrap of food on the road. He continued the last few metres to the doorway of his younger brother's single story concrete block home. After knocking and waiting for a few moments, he was ushered in by his sister-in-law.

Though his brother was closer kin than Omar, the atmosphere between his brother and his family was more formal. It was something that he had always felt uncomfortable with, and in many ways was saddened by it. At least in part he blamed his sister-in-law. She had more expectations and ambitions for her husband than his wife had for him. Therefore his sister-in-law treated him as being socially inferior, and of a lower social status. He did not like it, merely accepted it.

After the formal greetings were completed he had been offered and consumed a small plate of food at the table. He opened the small mock-leather bag and pulled out a handful of notes which he spread on the table. Feeling quite smug at seeing his sister-in-law's reactions to the money, he drew another handful out, then, further handfuls until the bag was empty. He had spread close to P300,000 on the table. He would not tell them he had already put aside P300,000 for himself.

After the initial excitement had waned, he was offered a coffee. He decided his facing the Japanese could wait until he had consumed his coffee.

## \----------

Pater saw the figure wearing a malong appear at the window just before 11:00 p.m. She was moving her head slowly backwards and forwards as though looking for something in the darkness. He wondered how she could expect to see anyone unless they were standing on the road outside.

The moon was only a little more than a half moon at the moment, though its effect was fairly strong it was still too low in its heavenly orbit. It would be an hour or two before its effect would be maximised. She was obviously looking for him.

Pater was a little concerned that Rangi had not yet returned and wondered at the cause of his delay. As if in answer to his question he heard a rustle in the undergrowth behind him and when he turned, Rangi was there. He had returned from a different direction from the way he had left.

"I followed the man to a house about 150 metres from here. Its single story and there are a few other people in there, though I couldn't figure out how many."

"Any sign of T.A.?" asked Pater.

"Nothing obvious. Except for the room the people are in, all the other rooms are dark. I expect T.A. is in one of those."

The reunited trio all looked up as the malong covered figure emerged from the door they had been watching. She was holding a small pot. The figure looked up and down the road. Pater signalled for his companions to stay.

The diminutive figure, wearing her malong, saw him as he stood up. She jerked with a little surprise. Pater stepped the couple of paces he needed to get out of the undergrowth and moved onto the road.

"You must follow me a long way behind," said Siti. I will take this pot of food to my uncle's house where T.A. is. I am scared because my Father came home before. He will hurt T.A."

"Can you draw a quick plan in the dirt of the inside of your uncle's house?" asked Pater.

She crouched, and scratched the floor plan of the seemingly square shaped house in the dust of the road verge.

Pater asked her to identify each of the rooms and which room T.A. was in. There were only three rooms the way she put it. As she pointed to each. "Eating, sleeping, T.A. sleeping."

"When you come out of your uncle's house, can you stop at the front and show us with your fingers how many people are in the house? Don't count T.A."

She nodded without comment, then stood up and moved off.

Pater watched her lead off, then followed about 40 metres behind. He knew that Rangi and Henry would follow about the same distance behind him.

The dogs did not begin barking this time. They were sleeping after the unexpected meal from the stranger that had passed earlier.

## \----------

Nilo started the jeepney, and began to move off. He decided he would now wait about 200 metres outside the barrio until he got Pater's signal.

Once again, the same as when he had moved from his three kilometre stop to his one kilometre stop, the taxi 50 metres behind him moved at the same time. And once again Nilo had not noticed the existence of the tailing taxi.

## \----------

Pater watched the young girl knock, and enter her uncle's house. Pater positioned himself in the shadows of the house opposite that had no windows on that side of the house. Henry and Rangi soon joined him.

Five minutes later, Siti emerged from the house without the pot, glanced around for some sign of where T.A.'s saviours were. She held up six fingers and swung around in a semi circle continuing to hold up her hands. She could not see where Pater was. Failing to get a response she began the return to her home.

According to Siti, T.A. was held in the front bedroom nearest the road at the left front of the house. It crossed Pater's mind that they might be able to sneak in through the ground floor window. If the kidnappers were confident enough to have T.A. on the ground floor he must be well secured. But was it by rope or padlock and chain? The shutters were closed. He wondered if they would squeak if they were 'sliders'. If they were hinged? Too many questions.

He turned to his companions and whispered.

"Either of you experienced with padlocks?"

Henry nodded in the negative. Rangi grinned.

"Are you?" asked Pater.

"In my late teens we had to unlock a few gates to truck out some nearly ripe fruit before the owners left it too long," Rangi replied.

Pater grinned. "Never caught?"

"Nah. Mum used to bottle the plums, make marmalade out of the oranges and grapefruit, then, sell them back to the owners wife. The owner was always happy because Mum's jams were better than his Missus made. He was always just pissed that the police could never catch the thieves."

"Can you still do it with the padlocks?"

"Of course. Who do you think gets the supplies out of base stores without a requisition? So whatever they've got here will be easy."

"O.K., we'll check the window option."

Henry kept watch while Pater and Rangi checked the window.

"Sliders," said Pater.

He inserted the knife into the narrow gap and began to slowly prise them apart. The shutters had only moved a hand's width when they jammed.

Rangi gently pushed Pater's arm away and with a handful of the meat he had not used for the dogs, squeezed the blood into the groove.

## \----------

T.A. was not sure what disturbed him. Maybe he had dozed, he was not sure. He looked toward the door, hoping to see the shadowy figure of Siti entering. There was no movement at the door. He could still hear the voices on the other side.

A muffled sound from the monsoon shutters caught his attention and he looked to see them slowly sliding back. There was no face visible even though there were fingers on each side of the shutter pulling it back.

When the shutters had been pulled back their full width, he expected a figure to start crawling in. Instead, nothing happened.

He just stared at the square in the wall that the subdued moonlight shone through. The roof of the house opposite was visible, coconut and banana trees around the roof, nothing else. He squeezed his eyes tightly shut a few times to try and give himself a mental check if he was dreaming or hallucinating. Maybe he had fallen asleep and someone had come in and opened the shutters while he was asleep. That had to be it.

He heard a quiet voice coming to him from outside the window, but did not understand the words. Then a few seconds later the same words were repeated again in the same quiet voice. He heard it, simply did not believe it. Then a third time.

"T.A., its Pater here, grunt if you understand."

T.A. grunted, louder than he meant to.

The upper body of two figures quickly blocked his view of the scene opposite, and the beams of two small flashlights were shone directly into his face.

A voice behind one of the beams spoke quietly, "We've come to get you out. One quiet grunt for yes, two for no."

T.A. grunted once.

"Wait for the questions dickhead. Are you chained?"

T.A. grunted once.

"Padlocks?"

One grunt.

One of the figures climbed through the window and approached. The other figure remained at the window and kept the torch beam on the chains holding T.A.

It seemed very quick to T.A. Both his hands and his legs were free. He knew it was not Pater undoing the locks. T.A. worried that any sound of the chains being dropped to the floor might attract attention, but there was no sound.

The big rescuer helped him to his feet. T.A. was not as agile as he hoped and it seemed the rescuer, not as patient. T.A. was suddenly thrown over the shoulder of the rescuer and passed out the window like a sack of potatoes.

The shoulder that he was now on was that of Pater.

"Come on my Fairy Princess, we're off to my castle."

T.A. saw the figure emerge from the window, and move ahead of them at a slow trot. T.A saw they were joined by a third figure.

After about thirty metres Pater said, "You're a heavy bastard."

"Put me down Pater, I can walk."

"I bloody well hope so."

T.A. regained his feet. It felt more comfortable than the battering his stomach and ribs were taking over Pater's shoulder.

Pater held one of his arms and one of Pater's companions held the other as they quick-jogged along a couple of streets that T.A. was not familiar with. They seemed to know where they were going.

The one in the front paused in his run, and began to speak into a r/t. T.A. did not hear what was being said as they had soon passed him.

Around another corner and along a few more metres, the group moved into the undergrowth of an empty section opposite a two story run-down looking residence. As they did so, the r/t man joined them.

T.A. looked up to a lighted window on the upper level and made out the slight figure of Siti staring out into the darkness, obviously unable to see where they were or even realising they were there. He wanted to call out but knew he could not.

The under-powered headlights of a vehicle began to shine down the road before the unmistakable shape of a jeepney stopped outside the two story house.

Several men sprang out and dragged a bound and gagged body out and threw it out at the front door of the residence. T.A. was quickly bundled into the jeepney.

As the jeepney was doing a U-turn, Pater ran toward the beach and flashed torch signals seaward. Returning quickly, he grabbed the r/t off the man who had been carrying it earlier and passed on some instructions.

Within seconds, the jeepney moved off toward the main road. A taxi passed them halfway to the main road, and turned right at the intersection near the house where the jeepney had stopped at only moments before. Soon after the taxi turned the corner it stopped and the headlights were switched off.

## \----------

Salim Hassan had decided enough courtesy had been shown and asked to be shown where the Japanese was being held. He followed his brother to the front bedroom door where his brother pushed it open allowing Salim to enter first, and alone.

Though the room was only dimly lit from the moonlight and the light through the open door when Salim entered, immediately he saw the wide open shutters he knew something was wrong.

He cursed loudly. His brother came rushing in, looked around, then rushed to the empty chains. He picked them up and examined them as if he was looking for some trace of the man they had held.

Salim walked to his brother and slapped his face with an open hand. Though his brother recoiled with the blow, he did not react in any way apart from looking surprised.

Salim's sister-in-law tried to enter as Salim was about to leave and received a heavy push in the chest which sent her back through the door. She had already begun screaming curses at Salim before her back hit the floor.

Her two sisters and younger brother stood and seemed about to react to Salim's actions, but all stayed still on seeing the hatred emanating from Salim's eyes as he emerged from the room. They had still not moved when he kicked heavily at the front door with the sole of his right foot, smashing a hole, before opening it in the conventional manner.

Salim was mixing the volume of his curses as he began to stride out toward his home. Then he quickly lapsed into a simmering volcanic-angry silence.

As he turned the corner to enter his street he saw the first sleeping dog to his left. His struck out with his right foot catching the dog in the ribs. The dog let out a pained yelp, barked a couple of times and limped off to the road verge.

A second dog nearby, still sleeping through the sounds of the first booting, was Salim's next target.

## **********

## CHAPTER 40

## THE BALITÈ TREE

### Linamon.

Ueda was standing in the empty section on the right side of the house, the inland side nearest the dilapidated shopping and market area. He waited behind the trunk of a banana tree and in the shadows of its leaves. He looked around for movement and listened for unnatural sounds.

While his ears listened, and his eyes tried to discern suspicious shapes his mind kept wandering to the prostrate figure he could see in front of the house. While he suspected that it was Yamada that had been dropped out of the jeepney, suspicion was not enough. If it was not Yamada, then who was it laying at the front door of the run-down looking house? The prone figure was out of the moonlight, and in the shadow of an overhanging balcony, so he could not make out any details. The light from the upstairs window gave no extra illumination, only emphasising the difference between light and shadow. The figure had not moved. Was the figure dead?

Ueda watched a while longer, and concentrated his gaze at the undergrowth opposite the house. That is where he would lay-up if he was preparing an ambush. There was nothing suspicious he could spot, though the possibility of missing something was very high in this weakened light.

The body in the front of the house was showing signs of movement. It appeared that the figure was restricted in its movements. Right now he wished the taxi could put its headlights on and illuminate the figure. But it was he who had asked the driver to park his taxi around the corner in the cross street and wait. The small mag-lite torch he carried was insufficient to illuminate the figure from this distance. He would not have used it anyway; it would give away his position to anyone watching.

Moaning sounds came from the direction of the prone figure. Ueda decided it was not the moan of a man in pain but a man struggling to get free of his bonds.

He took one final glance at the areas from which he most expected any danger might come. Reaching around his back he took out the .22 calibre pistol that had been inside the belt under his barong. It was not the pistol he would have liked to be using. But it was all he had. In the proper hands, used accurately, a .22 would kill just as easily as its bigger brothers would. And he thought of himself as more than well skilled.

With the pistol in his right hand and the still switched off pen sized mag-lite in his left hand, he edged forward. Making as much use of the shadow as he could, he crossed the few metres to the shadows at the side of the house.

Putting his head around the corner, though the figure was still in shadow, he was now sure it was Yamada. Yamada was still struggling unsuccessfully to free himself of his bonds. Whoever had done the tying up had really done it properly.

Ueda knew that a whisper would carry far on such a still night, so he used a quiet voice.

"Yamada san."

The figure immediately stopped struggling.

"Yamada san, it is Ueda."

The figure remained still.

"Do you know if anyone is watching? Stay silent if there is, otherwise grunt once."

The figure grunted once.

Ueda kept under the shadow of the balcony floor above as he moved to Yamada. Checking around again, he moved forward and stooped to examine Yamada's bindings. At a glance he knew that it had been done by the same person that had bound him up at the plantation.

Placing his pistol beside Yamada, Ueda pulled his Swiss Army knife from his own pocket, and was about to cut the bindings around Yamada's wrists when, a dog in the street yelped, then growled before beginning to bark. He looked behind him, inland, toward the direction of the sound. Another dog yelped, then, also growled before it too began to bark.

"Lie still," said Ueda before he ran off to the seaward side of the house and behind a big tree with several various sized rocks around its large trunk.

He looked carefully around the trunk to see a slim man walking in the roadway and heading toward the sea. The man changed the direction of his walk and swung his leg at another sleeping dog which yelped in response to the kick, and ran into the undergrowth near the banana tree where he had been hiding only minutes before.

The man stopped outside the home where Yamada lay, still bound, and looked up at the light emanating from the upstairs window.

Then he took a few steps toward the door and stopped when he saw the figure lying on the ground. The man stood over the figure for a few seconds and burst into a loud and long laugh. As soon as he had stopped laughing he swung his foot into Yamada's back.

Ueda quickly closed his Swiss Army knife and put it back into his pocket. He reached behind him to draw the pistol from under his barong. It dawned on him that he had left it by Yamada's side.

## \----------

Salim was nearly home. Another lazy cur was sleeping near the side of the road. He changed direction and gave it a solid kick to the side of the head.

His right foot was now sore from the kicks. Somehow, he had managed to control his anger enough only to slap, and not punch his brother, earlier. Now though, he could take his anger out on the dogs. They should have barked some sort of a warning earlier when the Japanese was escaping, unless they had not barked because the rescuer was known to them. He pondered on that thought for a while.

Who would want to rescue the Japanese? Who knew where he was being held? The only one that seemed to have both the knowledge, or concern about it, was Siti.

Salim paused under the balcony and looked up at the light emanating from the upstairs window. Why would she do such a thing? She had been insistent that the one they were holding was not the Japanese. Why? Then how could she have removed the padlocks. His brother still had the keys, unless she somehow had managed to find some other keys that fitted the locks.

He moved toward the door and saw the figure lying on the ground between him and the door. He stopped over the figure and immediately realised it was the Japanese. But the figure had been tied up and mouth taped.

He felt the relief sweep over him and began to laugh. He saw the Japanese with his eyes open and watching him. At last he had the Japanese where he wanted him. He gave the Japanese two quick kicks in the area of the kidneys and smiled as the Japanese groaned in pain.

Salim was about to kick him again when he saw a pistol near the Japanese. Initially he thought it was a child's water pistol. He picked it up and examined it. It was real but of a small calibre. He guessed it was .22.

He looked around to see who might have left it. Nobody around that he could see.

How did the Japanese get here bound and gagged like this? He could not have climbed out of the window at his brother's home and made his way here. Had Siti done this? Why would she? Yet she had lied about the man they were holding. This man was definitely Yamada. He could see that clearly, even in this bad light. Physically he looked as though he was not hurt in any way, and his condition did not show any loss of weight.

That thought alone prompted another swift kick from Salim into Yamada's back. Salim quietly began talking to himself in Maranao.

"You bastard. You killed my Grandfather, my Father and then my wife. Now you try to turn my own daughter against me, to lie to save your own miserable life".

"With all your money, you could have been fair. You and your ancestors have killed and raped through three generations of my family. No care or concern for anyone but yourselves. Why has Allah not punished you?"

Salim looked at the pistol in his hands, saw the safety catch, and pushed it forward. He looked up the road towards the town and saw there was nobody watching. Then looked down the few remaining metres of the road running toward the stony beach to check there was no fisherman coming home early with his catch. None.

He saw Yamada bent up in a foetal position. Still silent, despite his kicks.

"You know, and I know, you can't live. You would take my life without a thought."

Salim raised the pistol quickly to aim at the back of Yamada's head and pulled the trigger quickly twice.

The twin loud reports started the sleeping dogs barking. His daughters upstairs began screaming in fright and a movement to his left near the balitè tree about 30 metres away on the empty section caught his eye.

At first he thought the tree was moving, then, realised it was a person who had come from behind it and was running towards him. The figure was huge, and fast. This must be the one who left the pistol behind and he might still be armed.

Salim immediately began firing the pistol at the advancing figure. He seemed to be missing him as the figure kept coming. A shining object that the menacing figure was carrying suddenly flew upwards and behind the massive bulk.

The gap was now only about 15 metres and Salim kept pulling the trigger wondering when the pistol would finish its supply of bullets.

The figure had stopped. It seemed to stumble slightly at the knees and begin to wobble backwards trying to retain a balance.

The pistol was empty. The dogs were barking and his daughters' screams were emanating from the upstairs window. Salim watched mesmerised as the large figure was still trying to keep upright as it stumbled backwards before finally falling to the ground, almost where it started, at the base of the balitè tree.

Salim turned his head to the upstairs window and screamed an abuse at his daughter's. They immediately went quiet. The dogs obeyed too.

He heard a car start nearby, probably around the corner, and accelerate quickly away. Salim could not think of anyone in this neighbourhood with a car.

He changed his attention to look toward the fallen figure under the balitè tree. It was half hidden by the undergrowth.

A glow was emanating from behind the rocks at the base of the tree. Salim stared at this glow and wondered if the spirit Engkanto had woken and was about to come to life.

Again he turned his head toward the upstairs window.

"Do not come outside for any reason. You must stay inside until I come and get you."

He was conscious that his breathing had become rapid, and he was sure he could hear his heart beating.

The glow from the base of the balitè tree contained both yellow and light blue colours. The light was not moving. He walked slowly down the road without making too much progress toward the tree. That was intentional.

He looked toward the tree from the back and noticed the glow was much fainter from that angle. The main glow was coming out of one side only. Salim walked back up the street a short way before moving into the low undergrowth. After each two or three steps back toward the tree, he paused. He was approaching from the side that showed the greatest light.

The man he had shot was lying on his back, his head barely a metre from the rocks surrounding the base of the trunk. As Salim reached the feet of the prone figure he gave the feet a kick to see if there was any reaction. There was none. But there was still no obvious explanation for the light which had changed to a white light and appeared more concentrated.

Salim stood for a few minutes and looked. He decided that any apparent slow movement in the light was only his imagination.

He inched forward until his feet were touching one of the larger rocks. This close, he knew the light was definitely not moving, though it was casting enough light upward for him to see that the tree had suffered at least three hits that must have been misses when he had been shooting at the charging figure.

Slowly, and ready to spring back at the first sign of danger, he leaned over the rocks. His breath was coming in short sharp gasps. The closer his head came to the tree's trunk, the more his stomach muscles tightened.

His shoulder muscles dropped and his neck muscles relaxed when he saw the pen size torch playing its beam against one of the larger rocks. He closed his eyes and exhaled breath he had not realised he had accumulated in his lungs.

With his forearm resting against the trunk, he leaned forward and reached down to pick up the torch. It had jammed loosely between the trunk and the rocks, but a little jiggling saw it come free.

He examined it and realised he had found one of these small but expensive mag-lite torches that he had seen advertised in some of the magazines he had read. It was becoming a profitable night. Now he had this as well as his newly acquired pistol. He would search the pockets of the dead man and maybe find some money or other valuables.

The pockets yielded considerable cash and the ring and watch worn by the corpse both looked expensive. Those items he placed in his pocket. He would check Yamada's pockets before he got rid of the bodies. He wished his cousin Omar was with him now. He would help move the bodies. Perhaps even using Omar's banca to take the bodies out to sea and dumping them. Yes Omar would have known what to do. But if he had asked Omar for help he would have had to share his booty.

Then with curiosity and an eagerness to use his new torch, he walked back to the balite tree. He shone the beam at the trunk and noticed the three holes in the trunk that had been caused by the .22 bullets. There was also a graze to the side of the tree by a passing bullet.

He leaned back over the rocks to shine the torch beam around the area between the trunk and the rocks. There were many small rocks and decaying leaf matter. Then he saw something that both gladdened and saddened him. A small blue rubber slipper, partly covered by leaf matter, was caught between two small rocks.

It was the missing slipper that had fallen from his wife's foot when she had hung herself. He had kept the other one as some small gesture of faith, though he had often felt his faith had been tested too much. Yet tonight it already seemed that his luck was changing.

Holding the torch in his left hand, he reached down to pull the slipper out. It was wedged tightly, and it was slippery from leaf mould. He did not want it to break. He wanted the slipper to be reunited with its partner as though he would be completing a circle of life.

He pushed his hand into the leaf mould beneath the slipper to try and free it. It seemed to be working. His hand had also surrounded what felt like a soft stick. Perhaps that had jammed in the slipper so he decided it would be best to pull that out with the slipper. A gentle tug and it all came free.

Pain hit him in the fleshy part between his thumb and forefinger. Excruciating pain. But he did not want to let go of the slipper. As soon as his hand was clear of the rocks he dropped the slipper and shook the soft stick from his grasp. Still holding his torch, he grabbed at the painful area of his right hand and looked at the stick which he had thrown to the ground.

The stick began to move. He quickly shone the torch beam at the stick and saw the half-metre thumb-thick snake with a yellow diamond pattern on its black body, move slowly away into the undergrowth.

He threw the torch at the tree and cursed. Then gripping his right hand with his left in an effort to relieve the pain he sat down, his back against one of the larger rocks.

His breathing was already becoming laboured and the sensitivity in his right arm was starting to feel like pins and needles. He thought it might be wise to just sit a while longer to get over the shock; allow the pain to ease a little, and regain some strength before making his way the few metres to his home.

Though he knew it was not wise to rest under a balitè tree, even if they contained only good spirits, for the moment he needed to recover. If he stayed too long, the spirit might not let him go, and claim his soul to be joined with theirs. He would not stay long.

## **********

## CHAPTER 41

## SHOW ME THE WAY TO GO HOME

### Maria Christina Hotel, Iligan

The thanks, handshakes, and all the backslapping and congratulations had been completed many times before the four non Filipinos' got out at the entry to the hotel soon after 1:00 a.m.. The jeepney and the remaining occupants would make their way back to Cagayan de Oro without Pater, Henry, Rangi and T.A.

T.A. saw the wide eyed looks on the faces of the two sleepy hotel receptionists. He was beyond caring about his appearance wearing a soiled barong as a shirt and an equally dirty sarong around his waist. Pater seemed to clear it all up quickly and they were soon in the lift.

"Jesus man, you smell real bad," said Pater.

"Pater, you told me often enough on the way here." T.A. looked at Henry and Rangi for some sort of support and got wide grins in response.

The lift doors opened.

"Whew, thank Christ for that," Pater went on.

"Just don't disturb me when I'm in the bath and don't expect any hot water left when I'm finished," said T.A.

T.A. showered first to wash the dirt away. Then wiped all traces of dirt from the bath, opened two sachets of the hotel supplied bubble-bath and ran the water almost to the top of the bath.

Within minutes of T.A. relaxing deep into the hot bath and bubbles, the room door bell rang. Pater walked past, pulled the bathroom door closed, and opened the door.

T.A. heard male voices talking briefly in what he presumed was one of the Filipino languages, then he heard the door close. Pater's opened the bathroom door carrying a plate.

"Thought you might like breakfast in the bath, sir."

He placed a plate of angled cut toasted sandwiches on the table by the bath.

"At this hour of the night that's all they've got, sorry."

"Thanks Pater, I've been on fish, and rice, and air."

"How do you have your coffee?"

"White and one thanks. Haven't had one for ages."

"Marivic was here, trying to help find you."

"Where is she now?" asked T.A. feeling quite excited at the thought of seeing her again.

"Checked out already according to reception. They don't know where she's gone."

"She is from Iligan. Perhaps I should look her up and thank her."

"No mate. After you've rested tonight and had a bit of a sleep, we're heading straight back to Cagayan de Oro by taxi in the morning."

T.A. finished his coffee and sandwiches, dried off, wrapped the towel around his waist and went into the main area of the room.

"I'll leave now. You get your head down." Pater stood and made his way to the door.

"Pater. I really mean thanks. You are one hell of a fella."

"I'd say you owe me one. But when I show you what I found as well as finding you, then maybe I still owe you."

T.A. was too tired to follow up Pater's mysterious comment. As soon as the door closed behind Pater, T.A. tossed the towel on the floor, flopped onto the fresh clean sheets and fell asleep with the light still on.

## \----------

### Linamon,

As the first light of the day began, Siti and Zahra moved quietly down the stairs. They, like their neighbours, had stayed indoors at the sound of the shooting. Soldiers had visited the barrio in the past and shot people at night, then advised after the event that a temporary curfew had been imposed earlier that night and those outside were automatically in breach of curfew and therefore valid targets.

On seeing the body of Yamada at the door Siti let out a stifled scream. She thought it was T.A., then quickly realised it was not.

Avoiding any footfall into the pool of dried blood now surrounding the body, they stepped past and onto the road. Looking up the road toward the town, they could see other neighbours leaning out of windows to try and see what might have happened during the night. The girls noticed some of the dogs trying to walk yet wobbling on their legs as though they were intoxicated. Others were still asleep in various body postures.

Other neighbours had begun to emerge from their houses and huts and had begun to make their way toward the sisters.

Siti looked down the road toward the sea, then, heard a squeal from Zahra. She looked in the same direction as Zahra's gaze and saw her Father asleep, sitting with his back leaning against a larger rock at the base of the balitè tree.

They quickly ran toward him and stopped suddenly when they saw the body of another Japanese laying near their Father. This one had four, no five wounds to the chest and upper body area, and one more low down on the left arm.

Stepping around the body quickly they could not see any wounds on their Father. Siti moved forward the last couple of paces and crouched beside her Father whose eyes were closed.

"Papa wake up, you must come home to bed to sleep."

She put her hand on his shoulder, gently gripped it, and gave him a gentle push to wake him.

The cold, dead body of Salim Hassan slipped out of her grasp on to its left side and onto the dried grass.

Both girls screamed at the same time.

## \----------

### Maria Christina Hotel, Iligan

"C'mon Sleeping Beauty, wakey, wakey."

T.A. could hear the voice in the background repeating the phrase. It was a male voice, one he had heard before but could not identify.

Pressure on his shoulder began to shake him, and he felt he was fighting to open his eyes and bring his brain to a state where he could interpret what was happening.

"C'mon," the voice went on, "We're meant to check out by 10:00 A.M."

At last T.A's brain recognised the voice. It was Pater's.

"Oh shit Pater, I've only just fallen asleep."

"The hell you have. Only 8 hours. You can sleep in the taxi on the way back to Cagayan.

T.A. forced himself to sit up. He quickly looked down and was thankful that at some stage during his sleep he must have crawled between the sheets. He remembered he had not been wearing anything when he had gone to sleep.

"I hope these are a near enough fit," said Pater tossing some clothes on the sheets at the foot of the bed. "I've also taken the liberty of ordering a breakfast for you including calamansi juice of course."

"Thanks."

"You've got time for a shower before it arrives. So hit it private. Move."

T.A. obeyed in zombie fashion. When he emerged he emerged from the shower feeling refreshed, and fully awake he was pleased to see breakfast had arrived, together with three glasses of cold calamansi juice.

After finishing breakfast, T.A. simply obeyed whatever Pater requested. He was pleased to finally get into the taxi, which only he and Pater were in. Rangi and Henry entered another which would follow them in convoy all the way to Cagayan de Oro.

Within minutes, T.A. was asleep.

## \----------

### Linamon,

One of the larger bancas from the barrio was pushed out into the deeper water by six men who had moved out to waist deep water before releasing their hold on the outriggers. One of the three men inside the banca was seated at the stern. He pulled twice on the engine rope, and nodded in satisfaction as the engine started.

Steering straight out to sea, the three men sat in silence. After about 30 minutes they were about three kilometres away from the shore. Their fishing experience had taught them the water was very deep here. The man at the stern switched the engine off and let the banca drift.

All three men stood up slowly and looked around. There were no other boats within two or three kilometres of their position. The man at the bow and the man in the centre of the boat lifted the first of the bodies, while making sure they stayed clear of the wire and rope surrounding it. They dropped the first body over the side and it stayed hooked onto the side of the banca and held by the wire and rope. Then they lifted the first of the rusting truck axles as gently as they could, without upsetting the balance of the banca, and dropped the axle over the side.

The body quickly followed the heavy axle into the deep. They repeated the process a second time, then resumed the same positions they were in before they began their task.

The man in the stern again pulled twice on the engine rope and again nodded in satisfaction as the engine started on the second pull. Within seconds he had reversed his outgoing course, and was headed back to the beach.

All three men knew that the body of Salim Hassan would already be laying prepared for the burial ceremony by the time they returned. The doctor had already issued the certificate stating death was as a result of a heart attack brought on by the poison of an unidentified snake. The three men all knew better. The body was unmarked.

Engkanto, the spirit of the balitè tree, had taken its revenge.

## \----------

### VIP Hotel, Cagayan de Oro

The taxi sleep had revived him only a little more, so T.A. was pleased to be inside the hotel room and sitting in a comfortable armchair.

He watched as Pater, Henry and Rangi each placed a solid looking backpack on the floor, then found seating wherever they could.

"Well," asked Pater, "how's the holiday been so far?"

"Interesting, and different. I don't think anything is coverable by insurance."

"Costly eh? Well it certainly cost my credit card a packet to get you, but it looks as though the investment will give me a good return."

T.A. noticed all three of his companions were grinning widely.

"O.K., what's up?"

Pater picked up one of the backpacks, with some difficulty, and placed it slowly on the bed.

"Well, after I've recouped all my expenses, I thought we'd split this little lot 4 ways."

At that he unzipped the top of the backpack, turned it upside down and poured a pile of dull yellow coins onto the bed.

"What the hell is all that."

"Just some small treasure we recovered from Mr Yamada, the friend of yours who got you into this mess."

T.A. picked up some of the coins and examined them. "What's this lot worth?"

"The other two bags have the same thing. Can't be sure, but a few quick questions that I've asked around about the value of just one coin, then a bit of arithmetic puts it somewhere between two and three hundred thousand US dollars; each."

## **********

## CHAPTER 42

## CONCLUSION

### The Swagman Hotel, Manila

T.A. decided to leave the date of his departure as it was, on the original ticket. He spent much of the next two weeks just sleeping and eating. He did not bother with any visits to the red light district.

Henry and Rangi had left on the first day of their return to Manila for wherever they had come from.

T.A. had asked Pater where Henry and Rangi came from. He simply responded with "You just never know where you are likely to find good friends."

T.A. took that as a 'don't ask any further' answer, so he let the subject drop.

It seemed strange to him that once again he had to keep what happened, a secret. Nobody outside those involved would ever be aware of what had happened. It was, after all, supposed to be the Japanese industrialist that was kidnapped by parties unknown two weeks before. Any revelation that the Japanese was in fact kidnapped by Pater only days before, and given to the ones the public thought were the kidnappers, would stretch any imagination.

The frequency of the newspaper reports about the kidnapping and ransom had diminished. Just two days before T.A. was departing, the papers reported that the police and Armed Forces had suspended further attempts at finding Ken Yamada. Operations would be reopened again when they heard further from the kidnappers.

This mystified both Pater and T.A. It was easier, and preferable, to remember the money. Also two days before T.A. was due to depart, Pater gave T.A. an A5 size envelope.

"Should be about 280 of these in there," he said, flashing a US$1,000 note before handing it to T.A. "As for the rest of it, I'll use a contact to get it to you at your home, otherwise you could get it confiscated passing through Immigration if they searched you.

"You beauty," said T.A., "it was almost worth it. And this time, I'll pay my own hotel bill."

"I've got news for you there kiddo, I never paid it last time."

"Well who did?"

"I confess, I did go down to pay it, but that little lady, Marivic that you had here, apparently she paid it. I asked the manager Ben. She paid with a combination of US and Australian notes on the day she walked out on you."

T.A.shook his head. "This is crazy. I'll never understand women. Please, just get me on the plane, I wanna get home to my safe little apartment.

# **********

# PHILIPPINES - HISTORY and BACKGOUND

The first European to visit the Philippines was Ferdinand Magellan in 1521. Claiming the 7,107 islands for King Philip of Spain, the first permanent settlement was not established until 1565 on the central island of Cebu. Six years later, the capital, Manila, on the northern island of Luzon, was founded.

Islam was the main religion before the Spaniards arrived. Spain introduced Catholicism in the 16th Century and converted most Filipinos except those in the south-west, which is still strongly Muslim dominated. About 6-8% of the total population are Muslim. No accurate census has been taken in Muslim areas because of the danger to the census takers and the refusal of locals to complete the forms.

The Philippines has a diverse mixture of races and cultures. There are 87 different languages and an estimated 112 dialects among a population estimated at 95 million. The original inhabitants were an ancient negroid people, the forebears of the current Negritos people. An influx of the Malay race began approximately 2000 B.C. The bulk of the existing population are descendants of these migrants.

Three hundred and fifty years of Spanish rule from the 16th century resulted in a lot of interbreeding between Spaniards and locals. Consequently, the majority of Filipinos have a Spanish family name. These Filipino/Spanish are referred to as 'mestizas'. Then followed forty years of American rule in the 20th century which saw races and cultures mix even more. Therefore the skin colour of Filipinos can vary from very fair to very dark.

A Chinese presence makes up between 5%-6% of the population. They brought their religions with them and generally resisted conversion to Catholicism.

The differences between urban and rural living are similar to those throughout all of Asia. Such extremes in lifestyle are not understood by Westerners who have not visited rural Asia. Those who do are rewarded by finding the true nature of the country where the people and the countryside are as diverse as any place on earth.

Local issues or a national crisis can occur without the bulk of the population being aware of it, or even caring.

The roots of modern Philippines history, just like most nations 'discovered' by Europeans, were laid down in violence. Violence has always been a way of life. The first recorded battle being 27 April 1521 saw the Spanish explorer, Ferdinand Magellan, killed by the local chief, Lapu Lapu, at Mactan, near Cebu, in the south in the area known as the Visayas.

Some think of the capital Manila as a place for a cheap sexually gratifying holiday where whores are cheap and willing. Some visitors never leave their Manila hotels or see beyond the red light areas.

All views are partly right and wrong. Just as one piece of a jigsaw puzzle does not give the full picture the Philippines culture is as broad as any place on Earth.

Loss of life is commonplace. Thankfully it is very rare for non-Filipinos to be the victims of indiscriminate killings. However, unwary foreigners, or 'Americanos', as anyone of European descent is called, are often the victims of scams or robberies generally of a non-violent type. It can vary from the taxi driver fare rip-off, to using sleep-inducing drug on an unsuspecting tourist by a Filipino who has 'befriended' him; then stealing his belongings while he slept.

After World War 2 the Philippines estimated population was 14-18 million. Strict adherence to Catholic non-birth-control principles has seen the population explode to the present level around 95 million. The post war baby boom never stopped and 50% of the current population is under 25 years old. Therefore the average age of the Philippines population has been reducing rather than increasing in age as in most other countries. Divorce has only recently become legal, after seven years separation. The no divorce situation did not prevent marriage breakdown. It only resulted in more illegitimate children, many abandoned to exist as street urchins in Manila.

Religious, political, racial and poverty problems in the Philippines stem from many causes. There is a huge gulf between the rich and the poor.

Religious conflict is between the Muslims and the central Government. Some 6-8% or approximately 5-7 million Filipinos are Muslim. Most are in Western Mindanao, the second largest island of the Philippines. Muslim groups have formed to fight for the independence of part or all of Mindanao from the central Government. In the past, Libya has provided considerable encouragement with military and financial aid and often mediates hostage crises. In 1967 the Muslim National League was formed by Nur Misuari. In 1973 he fled to Libya to enlist support and arrange supplies of weapons and training. On 2 September 1986, six months after the deposing of Marcos, Misuari returned to the Philippines to begin his guerilla campaign for a separate Muslim state. He is now an elected member for Western Mindanao. His position is rejected by many Muslims as he was not considered 'royal blood'. Other Muslim splinter groups have also been formed, the major one being the Moro National Liberation Front. (MNLF)

Nationally, most reported battles are between the communist NPA and the central Government. This fighting, throughout the Philippines, is both urban and rural.

The situation in Mindanao is even more unstable. Very little press coverage is given to battles with the Muslims, perhaps because of the confused situation. Fighting also occurs between the Muslims on one side, and private armies of Catholic land-holders and the Armed Forces of the Philippines (AFP) on the other. The New Peoples Army (NPA), the armed wing of the Communist Party of the Philippines (CPP), has been in conflict with them all in the same areas. Further confusion is added by the various bandit groups in the area robbing independent gold miners.

Unofficial truces and co-operation does occur between Muslims and the NPA. There is even a movement among non-Muslim Mindanaons for secession of Mindanao from the central Government in Manila. Mindanao is agriculturally and mineral rich yet economically poor. Its riches, claim the Mindanaons, are reaped for the benefit of those with Manila origins. Nearly 50% of Philippine exports are produced in Mindanao. Perhaps they have a valid case.

In June 1987 the Government proudly announced that Government reconciliation with various guerilla factions had reduced the daily death rate among soldiers and rebels from civil war activities from 14 to nine in the twelve preceding months. At 14 deaths per day, 434 per month, 5,096 per annum, it would seem to be excessive in most peoples' thinking. This, during a supposed time of peace and reconciliation, but we are talking about civil unrest that dates back to the 1950's. During the 20 year Marcos era, the figure among combatants was much higher. It must be remembered the official figures do not include civilian casualties. The real figures can reasonably be presumed to be much higher.

Racial hatred is often directed against the Chinese population who are generally blamed for the economic situation. Wealthy Chinese and their businesses are targets of disgruntled Filipinos. It would seem this type of aggravation is encouraged to cover mismanagement and corruption in some official quarters and Government Departments.

Catastrophic losses of life that have occurred in the Philippines seem to pass by almost unnoticed by the world press. Everyone knows about the 1500 lives lost in the sinking of the Titanic. It is commonly mis-stated as the largest single loss of life in a peacetime sea tragedy. On 20 December 1987 a collision between the overloaded passenger ship Donna Paz and an oil tanker M.V. Vector resulted in at least 4,000 deaths. Only 26 passengers survived.

Prior to the Christian celebrations of Christmas and Easter, Filipinos make every effort to travel home to be with their families. Consequently 'official' carrying limits in ships, tends to be overlooked. Officials accept bribes and allow passengers to sleep wherever they can. No official passenger lists are kept. The death toll on the Donna Paz could have been as high as 5,000, maybe more. The true figure will never be known. The world press ignored this event.

During times of national or local elections, political killings and kidnapping are common-place. The supposedly peaceful 1988 local elections resulted in 38 candidates being killed and 13 kidnapped. Politics in the Philippines is a serious and dangerous business.

On a more positive note, away from the large cities, the Philippines are graced with beaches of unbelievable beauty. Being a Filipino is not simply a person from the Philippines. It is a way of life. It is being happy and laughing even when there is no food available. It is sharing what little they have with any guests. Even more accurately it is letting their guests eat first and being content with what is left over.

This seemingly happy way of life contrasts so distinctly from that in most Western societies. The have-nots in the Philippines smile and laugh their way through their day. The people of the West, with all their wealth and abundant food, grumble about their misfortunes. It makes me wonder which values really give happiness in life.

# TERMINOLOGY and DESCRIPTION

A.F.P. - Armed Forces of the Philippines. Trained in USA style and armed with USA weapons. The AFP had a large and highly successful presence in the Vietnam conflict. While appearing a laid-back casual force, any protagonist treating this as a sign of weakness would be foolish. Unfortunately a few bad apples tend to use the uniform for personal monetary gain or influence.

AIR-CON - Filipino air conditioning.

BALIK-BAYAN - Both singular and plural term for Filipinos who have lived overseas and returned home either permanently or a holiday.

BANCA - The major form of sea transport. A single hulled vessel with one but generally two out-riggers. Size varies according to the purpose used. Power is inboard or outboard depending on the size of the boat. Length can be from two to over thirty metres. Some used for illegal purposes have speeds exceeding thirty knots.

BARANGAY - An area within a political boundary. Each has its own elected officials. Size varies according to regional interests, geographical size and location.

BARRIO - The description for a small village.

CARABAO - The Filipino name for the common water buffalo as found throughout most of Asia.

C.P.P. - Communist Party of the Philippines. Established on December 26, 1968. At various times outlawed.

D.P.A. – Filipinos' typically refer to many things by their initials. Deep Penetration Agents are basically informers. Some genuine under-cover agents have worked their way into the confidence of some anti-Government movements.

FILIPINO – A Filipino is a resident or descendant of the Philippines. Also a male is a Filipino, a female is a Filipina.

JEEPNEY - The major form of public and private transport, adaption of the American jeeps used during their occupation of the Philippines. The Filipino model is extended in length and has a roof. The driver sits in the left front on a wide bench seat. The extra width allows passenger seating alongside. Most passengers sit facing each other behind the driver with their backs to outside traffic. This allows about 12-14 people to be seated. In peak periods, with four in the front and people doubling up inside and hanging on outside or on the roof, I have seen over 30 people on one jeepney.

MAH-JONG - A popular board game within the Philippines, from China. Filipinos gamble heavily playing this game.

MINDANAO - This second largest island of the Philippines produces almost 50% of the Philippines exports. With the immediate surrounding islands, it is known as the political region of Mindanao. The area is extremely rich in minerals, oil and gold. Pasture lands, where fruit and cattle are raised, are extensive. Mindanaons; Catholic and Muslim alike, feel they should have independence from Manila's Government. The central government, they contend, exploit Mindanao's resources for Manila, with little return to the Mindanaons.

MOTORISED TRICYCLE - In the Filipino tradition of maximising any transport, it is common for motor cycles to have a roof covered side-car attached with two passenger seats and another strong rack behind. In addition there is an extra seat behind the rider as well as a further solid rack. All the seats, racks and roof of the side car are often occupied with passengers or goods. When necessary, a passenger sits on the fuel tank in front of the rider; another on the front wheel mudguard and another hanging off the back with his feet each side of the back wheel axle. A rider can have two people in front and two more behind him. I have seen nine where a side-car was attached. There are other forms of tricycles, are similar to the Tuk-tuk of Thailand, where passengers are towed behind the motor cycle.

MUSLIMS - This group dominates Western Mindanao. The region always had a very strong tendency to push for independence. In 1967 the Muslim National League, a secessionist movement, was organised. Various leaders, especially during the late 1960's and most of the 1970's, fled to Libya for political sanctuary. Ties to Libya have always been strong. There is more disharmony among Muslim political groups than in the Communists or NPA. Muslim groups fight among themselves as well as against Government troops. Forty percent of the Government's total troop numbers are stationed in Mindanao to deter Muslim separatists. The Muslim uprisings of the 1970's were crushed without mercy by the central Government. Accurate casualty figures will never be known, but over 400,000 people fled to Indonesia to escape the killings.

N.P.A. - The New Peoples Army, the military wing of the CPP., was formally established on 29 March 1969 in Capas, Tarlac. It is a very powerful force within the Philippines. Estimates of active numbers vary according to the source and the economic climate of the time. Its ranks are not just the poverty-stricken classes, but include a cross section of educated and wealthy people. Current official estimates put the figure at less than 50,000, while the true figure of armed insurgents and followers in the rain forests is probably more like 100,000. Leadership and local group self-interests tend to dominate politics. Little co-ordination of national effort has resulted. During the disenchantment of the late 70's and early 80's, the numbers were possibly as high as 500,000. Numerous jungle-based, roaming armed bandit groups are often wrongly identified as NPA or Muslim.

NIPA HUT - The personal dwelling of rural Filipinos. It is called this because its construction is from the leaves of the nipa tree, a flax-like leaf very effective against all weather.

P.A.T.A.G. - Philippines Anti-Terrorist Action Group. A specially trained and highly mobile unit within the parachute brigade specialising in dealing with terrorist situations.

PILIPINO - The official language of the Filipino people. It was supposed to combine all the 87 languages and 112 dialects of the Philippines. A study group was commissioned by the late President Marcos to create a common language. They came back with a new language which contained 97% Tagalog, the main language of Luzon, despite the fact the President's native tongue was Ilocano, though he was a fluent Tagalog speaker. See the note about Tagalog.

'STAND-BYS.' – An all encompassing Filipino word for people who simply stand around an area such as a hotel or restaurant hoping to do business of any description with the patrons as they emerge.

TAGALOG - The most common language of Luzon, the largest and main island of the Philippines. Although there is technically an official composite language called "Pilipino" for all the Philippines, introduced by the late President Ferdinand Marcos. As it was made up of 97% of the Tagalog language and 3% from the other 86 languages, a resistance to learning it was in-built. However it is now compulsorily taught in all schools. One of the problems in the Philippines has been that people from different areas are unable to communicate in a common tongue, apart from English, which is still the most common language. Interestingly all Court proceedings are in English, with interpreters translating where it is necessary. When the people of the south wish to talk to the people in the north, their only common tongue may be English unless the southerner has learnt Pilipino, or is a product of recent schooling.

VISAYAN - The language of the Visayan region of Mindanao in the south and surrounding islands, and second most common language of the Philippines. With area variations, they form some of the 112 dialects of the Philippines, in addition to the 87 basic languages.

VISAYAS - The area of the central Philippines where the Visayan language and its variations are spoken. It includes Cebu and areas south and west of Cebu including the second largest island Mindanao. The dialect in Cebu, Cebuano, tends to be a minor variation of Visayan. Other even more distinct dialectic variations occur elsewhere.

## *****

## About The Author

John Muir was born in Hamilton, New Zealand. Attended Palmerston North Boys High School and graduated in accounting from Massey University. Spent 25 years in Sydney, Australia and time in Asia.

Discover other titles by John Muir at Smashwords.com

-Short Shorts & Longer Tales

-My Other Shorts & Formal Tales

-The Siege Of Apuao Grande

-An Artist's Freedom (sample from Short Shorts & Longer Tales)

-A Sunday Market Seller (sample from My Other Shorts & Formal Tales)

-Patch (A short story for 8 – 14 year olds)

## **********

