 
# THE SIEGE OF APUAO GRANDE

# 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. This ebook is licensed for your personal ernjoyment only. This ebook may not be resold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you are reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return it to your favourite retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Acknowledgements: The author and publisher wish to thank the many individuals for ideas, editing, encouragement and support.

Published in EBooks 2013

Smashwords Edition 2013

EBooks ISBN: 9781310896767

# THE SIEGE OF APUAO GRANDE
# CHAPTER 1

## DEBT COLLECTORS

### DAET, CAMARINES NORTE, PHILIPPINES, Sunday night, August.

Private Alcorin would obey the orders of his captain and sergeant to the letter, even though this was no official army mission.

He slowed the jeepney to less than a walking pace and steered a 45 degree angle toward the curb on his right. When he felt the right front wheel touch, he gunned the engine. As the first wheel bounced up the curb he heard the bumps of lurching bodies and stifled curses from his three passengers hidden in the rear.

The sounds repeated three more times as he jumped the other wheels up the curb and onto the footpath. He had positioned the jeepney exactly where ordered; side on, it straddled the corner opposite the Spanish style archway doors of the Los Alamos restaurant. His left side driver's seat was barely 50 metres from the restaurant entry. If the double doors had been open he could probably have seen some of the patrons.

Anyone watching would suspect a driver had arrived to collect his patron from the restaurant and parked on the footpath to wait. Parking at this normally very busy main road intersection would be impossible. But at fifteen minutes to midnight on a Sunday night, there were no pedestrians on that side of the road to argue the point.

Though the street light was feeble, he turned his baseball cap around to shade his face instead of his nape. Donning the full face mask would come later. That was at the ready under his left leg.

With only two cigarettes left from the four sticks bought that morning, he carefully drew one from his intentionally darkly soiled barong pocket; then pulled a box of matches from his jungle camouflage trousers. Using his open palm to hide the flare of the light, he struck a match. His sergeant and the other two members of the platoon hidden in the back of the jeepney should excuse him for this pre-action relaxation.

Joining the army soon after his 19th birthday, Alcorin was a veteran of more than three dozen jungle missions. Genuine contact with the NPA had been made twice, though contrived official reports showed he had been involved in eight contacts; and, as usual, such contacts resulted in considerable losses of equipment and large amounts of ammunition expended.

Tonight's was his second unofficial urban mission. This one, like the previous, would never appear in army records.

He settled back as though waiting for a patron to emerge from the restaurant. His unseen right hand reached out for the stock of his army issue M16A2 rifle sitting on the passenger seat. He pulled it to a handier position on his lap.

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

Sergeant de Mesa frowned under his full face mask when he saw the flash of the struck match. His annoyance was already heightened by the bumps of the jeepney mounting the footpath. Reprimanding the youngster could wait for later when they returned to barracks. The sergeant knew any sudden flare of light, no matter how minuscule, could still attract the attention of alert watchers.

With him in the back of the jeepney, hidden by the canvas drops over the sides of the window, were two other seasoned campaigners. Their dark loose fitting clothing gave no clue of their army rank or occupation. They all knew this was not an army mission.

The sergeant unzipped the sports bag and pulled out the M72 LAW (Light Anti-tank Weapon). In its pre-cocked state it was 24 inches long, made of two tubes, one inside the other. The smaller tube housed a 66-mm rocket-shaped charge. The garrison had been issued with several to field test in jungle conditions. He 'miscounted' one when supplies were delivered to the armoury.

Checking his watch, it was ten minutes to midnight. Ten minutes to the planned operation start time. Waiting for action to start in the city made him nervous. The rain forest was different. There he would listen to nature's sounds for changes. Here, sound could start suddenly and unexpectedly; the roar of a motor-bike, a car horn, an outburst of laughter. He preferred the jungle.

Slowly he rolled up the left side tarpaulin just enough to see out. He was surprised how well lit the inside of the restaurant was for this hour on a Sunday. It suggested quite a few customers were still inside. Of more concern was the large number of people hovering near the doorway. Most would be stand-by people hoping for a handout from the wealthy patrons as they emerged. Others would be drivers for some of the affluent clientele. Even allowing for that, the number was much larger than expected.

The one floor of offices above the restaurant was dark. No late night office workers inside who could be injured.

Curtains covered the windows of the restaurant preventing him estimating how many occupants were inside. It mattered little to him how many would die. The New Peoples Army (NPA), the military wing of the Communist Party of the Philippines (CPP), would get the official blame for all the deaths. The Daet army garrison's case to the Government for more weapons would be strengthened, and local businessmen would get the message to pay protection money to the army rather than get put out of business in such a manner.

His group's task was to give rapid M16 covering fire, then finish with his anti-tank weapon. He nodded to one of his colleagues who rolled up the canvas behind him to allow for the back blast. The other soldier in his black shirt watched as the sergeant pulled the inner tube back and knew it was locked as soon as the sight popped up and the cocked trigger protruded. The weapon was now 35 inches long.

He laid the tube on his shoulder and nodded in the direction of the restaurant. The black-shirt fully raised the tarpaulin facing the restaurant, and tied it. Darkness and shadow prevented them being seen.

The M72's maximum range was 900 metres against soft targets, but best suited for use up to 200 metres. Firing at only 50 metres, the sergeant did not know how big the explosion would be. It was meant to be good against well-built enemy bunkers. At this range it was more than adequate.

Black-shirt had instructions to jump out of the jeepney as soon as he fired and recover any evidence of any back blast. No evidence of the army's involvement was to be left behind.

He checked his watch again. Five minutes to midnight. De Mesa crouched. He was ready. His captain's arrival and opening shots would signal the beginning of the operation.

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

Captain Amadeo Rosales sat silent as a passenger in his jeepney during the roundabout route from the army barracks to the new restaurant. He was deep in thought over the events of the past few days. Recent transfer and promotion lists showed he had been passed over yet again. It was over 20 years since he had joined the Armed Forces of the Philippines (AFP). To get the promotion to captain, he had accepted a transfer to Daet, in the Province of Camarines Norte. That was 10 years ago. Despite his requests for transfers out, he was still in Daet, and still a captain.

His sergeant for the past eight of those 10 years was Sergeant de Mesa. He too was stuck in this backwater posting. Rosales knew the sergeant was loyal to him, and with his share in the spoils, kept his mouth shut.

Though Captain Rosales was 39 years old and still unmarried, he had never suffered from a shortage of female companionship. But it was not cheap. He had become accustomed to a reasonable lifestyle, above the salary level of a captain. At his rank, he knew the retirement pension was not enough to support the life he had become accustomed to, wanted in retirement, and felt he had earned. His current lifestyle was still restrictive as his accomodation was limited to army bases. There were none of the luxuries many of his senior colleagues were already enjoying. So, just as many of them were doing, he was using his position to invest in his future.

Some of the levies he charged local businesses and landowners for added protection against possible raids by the NPA had fallen a long time past payment date. Captain Rosales, his sergeant and a few loyal privates had to remind the non-payers of their obligations occasionally. Another reminder was necessary now.

In the past couple of months, the resistance of a few to paying his levies had grown to reluctance among many. They knew the protection they paid for was a veneer to subsidise the soldiers' mediocre salaries. Not all the soldiers benefited and those paying the levies also knew this. Captain Rosales kept the fruits of the extra benefits for himself and his few loyal subordinates.

In addition to the money raised from the levies, Rosales made occasional sales to arms dealers. The weapons came from the well stocked garrison armoury, or his secret stock of weapons and ammunition recorded as lost or expended on missions. The government did not question the large allocation and loss of arms. The NPA had always been very active in the area. Such losses of weapons by the army during the many operational search and destroy missions was therefore not unexpected.

Tactics to contain the urban guerillas were different. Raiders simply emerged from their homes rather than the rain forests; then vanished back into the same squalid huts. Pressure had to be continually applied on the people by the Armed Forces of the Philippines (AFP) to get information about the urban guerillas. It made the AFP unpopular, but it was the only way they could get any intelligence reports.

Jungle-based NPA camps were clearer targets to hit. Mistakes made in the jungle could be left there. Witnesses to those mistakes were easily disposed of. In the townships, it was difficult to silence whole suburbs.

Rosales enjoyed the jungle campaigns. It meant he could write off bigger equipment losses. Still, the best regular income was this protection money.

His senior officer would go along with whatever happened in any reported actions against rebels as it strengthened his position.

Much of the replacement equipment assigned to Rosales' battalion was being diverted before it arrived, hoarded by more senior officers and sold to their overseas buyers. His share was constantly diminishing.

The five jeepneys being used for this raid had been used before in similar raids. The twenty men helping him this time had also been on other raids. They knew their rewards would come later. Only the jeepneys, the raiders' peasant disguises and balaclava-style masks were not from barrack stores. All the weapons and ammunition were from the armoury.

The targeted restaurant occupied a prime site on an intersection in the main street. It was the first major construction in the town for several years. The sophisticated Spanish style arch was set slightly back from the corner to welcome its customers from two streets. The surrounding buildings were old single or two-storey constructions, mostly of aged tinder-dry wooden planks or plywood.

When his driver pulled into the curb about 50 metres south of the restaurant, the captain's mind snapped back to the present task. He noticed with satisfaction that the sergeant's jeepney was already in position. Three more jeepneys pulled into the curb in their assigned positions.

Rosales was also surprised by the amount of the lighting inside the restaurant and at the number of stand-bys hovering around outside. Though he expected they would scatter quickly when he attacked.

The plan was to spray the restaurant windows with machine gun fire to break them, and follow that by tossing in grenades. Charging to the entrance, they would make a short burst of rapid fire through the entry arch for effect. Then retreat rapidly to safety before Sergeant de Mesa administered the coup de grace with his acquired toy.

The captain glanced at his watch. It was right on midnight. All four passengers in his jeepney quietly dismounted. The three other jeepneys also disgorged their men while those in de Mesa's jeepney made ready to provide covering fire.

The walkers converged on the restaurant at a slow pace, cradling readied M16A2's. About 40 metres from the restaurant, Captain Rosales noted the stand-bys outside the restaurant seemed to become agitated at their approach. Perhaps they had noticed his groups were carrying weapons.

He noticed one stand-by, then another, pull out side arms from under their barongs. One of his men also noticed and reacted immediately, running forward and firing from the hip. His shots, sprayed low, kicked up asphalt and gravel from the road. All four groups increased pace, firing on the run. Those standing outside the restaurant were all brandishing a variety of weapons and firing back. The shooting of the stand-bys, from their standing positions, was more accurate than that of the running soldiers. Two soldiers in front of the captain were hit and fell. He felt a stinging sensation on his cheek but kept running forward and firing from the waist.

The combined automatic fire of the disguised soldiers from four different directions and de Mesa's men was beginning to take its toll on the twenty or so defenders. Although the defenders numbers were rapidly falling, Rosales did not know how badly his other three groups were suffering. By the time he had got to within fifteen metres of the door, he was the only one still standing from his group.

He dived to the ground and began to rake the four surviving defenders with a wide sweep of automatic fire. All four went down. He regained his feet and changed to a fully loaded magazine. The groups from the other jeepneys now joined him. Just as he began taking a quick count of his standing soldiers, bursts of automatic fire came forth from inside the doorway. One man each side of him collapsed onto the dirty road. From a crouch, he and his remaining men fired back through the archway at the gun flashes from the now darkened interior of the restaurant.

The unexpected opposition had thrown his plan awry. Survival instincts had meant everyone had been firing at the armed stand-bys. No-one had fired at the restaurant windows and tossed grenades.

The street lights and advertising neon made his group highly visible, while the targets inside were hidden. Firing from within was getting heavier with every second that passed. Rosales began wondering what he had walked into. He reached into his loose shirt pocket for his grenades. Someone else had again beaten him to the punch and the first of the grenades exploded inside the doorway. Then grenade after grenade exploded to light up the restaurant for what seemed forever. Somehow he had managed to see through the series of explosions. It certainly stopped the return fire. He quickly glanced around and noticed only six of his men still taking an active part.

He then remembered Sergeant De Mesa and realised he was too close to the entry for the Sergeant to continue giving covering fire or unleash his rocket.

"Withdraw," he screamed and turned to begin his run back toward his jeepney. After covering about 20 metres, he stopped and turned toward de Mesa's jeepney and waved his arms as the signal for him to fire. He flashed a quick glance back at the restaurant archway and the devastation in front of it. Then he saw his other surviving members trying to drag their injured and dead colleagues away from the restaurant to safety. In leaving his men behind, he had not acted like an officer. He also knew that de Mesa would fire exactly twenty seconds after he gave his waved signal. If nothing else, Sergeant de Mesa obeyed his orders to the letter. Rosales thought if he went back to pick up one of his men, de Mesa would hold his fire for a few extra seconds.

He could not leave his men there. As soon as the bodies were identified it would all be traced back to him anyway. He had to get them all away. Dropping his M16, he ran back to the restaurant entry. He crouched over the first man he came to. The now unmasked head revealed a bloodied face with eyes that still registered his movements as he approached. He saw the mouth open.

"I knew you'd come back Captain," uttered the weak voice.

As he put his arm under the neck of the bloodied soldier, he felt or sensed a whoosh pass over his head. A loud crashing sound in the entry doorway seemed to continue onwards and deeper inside. A blinding flash caused his eyes to burn as he felt himself being lifted upward and away from the restaurant. Sharp pain and heat shot through his body as he waited for the fall to come. When it did, he felt no pain at all. He was aware of brightness all around him. Perhaps it was day. Perhaps he had been knocked unconscious or fallen asleep and woken up the next day. Perhaps his mother had turned on the light again when he was having one of those horrible nightmares he used to have as a child about being burned alive. But there was no pain.

Captain Rosales had died, along with 15 other members of their group.

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

As Sergeant de Mesa's jeepney rapidly pulled away, he was wondering how he could report this action to the camp commander. Maybe he should have disobeyed the order to fire, but he was so busy concentrating on the sight of the M72 LAW that he did not see the attempts to retrieve the casualties at the front of the restaurant.

Even if he had, he had still been given the order to fire. As a sergeant he was paid to obey orders, not to think for himself.

What had gone wrong? Why were there so many armed men at the restaurant? There were too many questions for him to cope with. It could be the end of his career. Even worse, his superiors might summarily execute him and blame that on the NPA too. Maybe he should just say he was ordered to take part in a covert operation being conducted by Captain Rosales and he did not know what the action was about.

"Yes", he decided, "that was the safest." After all he was merely following orders. He would have to convince the other three survivors in his jeepney to plead likewise and he hoped they would all be safe.

# CHAPTER 2

## HOLIDAY PLANNING

### AUCKLAND, NEW ZEALAND, Monday, August.

On Friday morning T.A. was told he had five days to complete a final viability report on a foreign investment opportunity he suggested to his supervisors' months before. He quickly cleared his city desk and headed home where his personal research notes were. Uninterrupted, in his home office, he felt he might almost achieve the impossible timetable if he worked all weekend. Leaving the answer-phone switched on to screen calls, he got straight into the task. As expected, most of the calls were from his supervisor wanting progress reports. He ignored those messages.

He lost track of time. It was getting dark outside though his watch only read 4:30 p.m. A glance out the window showed a dark grey sky, rapidly getting much darker. The clouds were rapidly rolling back on themselves, like surf onto a beach.

Flashes of distant lightning appeared in the distance. A few seconds later the boom of thunder followed. He recalled someone, somewhere, told him that by counting the seconds between seeing the lightning and hearing the boom of the thunder you could judge how far away the lightning strike was. He just could not remember the details.

With blinds closed and lights on, he felt isolated from the storm. The light drizzle had not yet turned to heavy rain which he loved to hear on his iron roof when he was drifting off to sleep. Only the occasional rumble of thunder reminded him of the storm outside. He thought about eating. Not cooking, just eating.

A quick search through the deep freeze was disappointing but not fruitless. He found the easiest thing, a microwave pizza. It reminded him of a fat-bottomed woman with a flat chest. It was all base with very little on top. Perhaps now in his less than physically fit state he should not be so critical. He had only recently joked with his friends that his chest had only temporarily fallen to his stomach region.

It was not just because he had reached forty. He did not feel bad about his physical appearance. He had always wished he was just that fraction taller. His one metre 79cm, or five foot 11 inches under the old scale, was not quite the seeming magic six foot figure he wanted to be. He had stopped regular long exercise runs since shifting to Auckland. His self-justification being there were no sizeable grassed areas nearby for running.

He had tried footpath running, but that had proved dangerous as cars driven rapidly out of the driveways of the many multi-story apartment blocks nearby paid little heed to any pedestrians, walking or running. He had learned that the hard way, running into the sides of emerging cars.

Proper food balance or correct diet had also become another problem. That was always something he could start next month. There was nothing hugely wrong with his physique. He had always been a solidly built athlete at school and university. It was just that his aerobic fitness level had dropped. His build kept the extra kilos well hidden.

He found the cooking time on the wrapper, set the micro-wave accordingly and realised he had time to watch the T.V. news headlines. Relaxing into his armchair he switched on the T.V. with the remote control just as the news began. His pet angers were raised again as the announcers lead stories of the day were about politicians doing walkabouts. Was this of world importance? The micro-wave signalled dinner was ready.

As he took the pizza from the micro-wave the announcer's voice caught his ear.

"In a rural area of the Philippines, a successful and decisive blow was inflicted on the Communists' military wing, the New Peoples Army, (NPA) a few days ago."

T.A. raced in to the lounge.

"A decisive operation by the Armed Forces of the Philippines successfully destroyed their organisation."

Standard stock footage of Philippines white sandy beaches and frond-roofed sun-shelters was being shown. No news footage of the actual site of the action.

"The national leaders of the NPA were trapped and killed in an attack on their meeting place in Daet, Camarines Norte. A large ammunition cache on the premises exploded during the raid, killing all the occupants and several attacking soldiers."

T.A.'s interest piqued. He was a frequent visitor to the Philippines and in particular the location of this encounter. It was very near to what he thought of as his little island hideaway, the island of Apuao Grande. It was just off the coast from Mercedes, near Daet. After two visits there with Malou, his Filipina girlfriend, it brought back good memories. He felt he was entitled to think of it as his paradise. Therefore anything that happened around his patch was important to him. Tomorrow he would buy several papers, but doubted there would be a follow up story. Only the preceding week the whole front page of both main dailies were devoted to the Prime Minister's surgery on an ingrown toenail, while a small paragraph on page 8 reported 600 drowned in floods in India. The newspaper owners, management and editors all knew where the big and rewarding stories were.

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

### MANILA, PHILIPPINES.

### MANILA BULLETIN - TUESDAY, AUGUST

### OFFICIAL GOVERNMENT NEWS RELEASE

### EXPLOSIONS DURING RAID KILL NPA HIERARCHY

"A detachment of the Armed Forces of the Philippines raided a suspected top level meeting of the Communist Party of the Philippines (CPP) and the New Peoples Army (NPA) yesterday in Daet, Camarines Norte. The raid was led by PATAG [Philippines Anti Terrorist Army Group], a specially trained group within the Parachute Brigade. A spokesperson from Malacanang Palace said the raid was very successful. In one action, PATAG had destroyed the entire leadership of the NPA."

"The raid followed information given by DPA [Deep Penetration Agents] working within the NPA The meeting of the national and cadre leaders had been called to discuss tactics and financing for activities over the next few months."

"A spokesman for PATAG said the massive explosion happened during the gun battle when incendiaries reached the large arms cache apparently stored under the business premises."

"Although 16 soldiers were killed and 14 wounded in the gun battle and explosion, over 100 NPA were killed and several captured."

"Most of the bodies were unrecognisable as a result of the blast, but the bodies of national leader Rafael Simosa and his deputy Isagani Cruz were among those killed. It is hoped that pathology reports can identify others at the meeting. The government believes that without leadership, the tens of thousands of NPA sympathisers will rejoin the mainstream of government policy."

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

In Manila, the government and the newspapers were making a big play from the event to get all the publicity they could. Newspapers, although distorting casualty figures on both sides, announced the success of the action in their own ways. Most quoted unnamed sources within the government and the Army to describe their version of the action. The leaders of the entire NPA organisational and military wings had apparently overcome factional rivalries to meet for the first time in an effort to get some consensus on policy. These were the representatives of the variously estimated 50,000-200,000 active members of the NPA. With as many as one million other supporters, each group had its own political aims. The purpose of this meeting was to establish a national and coordinated policy to destabilise the government.

Willing unofficial sources padded out missing details. NPA heads from all round the Philippines had been arriving in Daet by road or speedy sea-going bancas into nearby Mercedes for days, then spirited away to various hide-outs in the area. After that, meetings had taken place in Daet and Mercedes in private houses and business premises. Some more cautious NPA members only attended meetings in the coastal fishing village of Mercedes. The coast gave quick access to their bancas should flight be required.

The Army raid had been organised for the only night all were gathered at the one site. The explosion had been caused by the rocket penetrating the door and then successive walls until it hit an above-ground petrol tank of some 10,000 litres immediately behind the meeting place. Almost all those people within 30 metres of the blast were incinerated including 16 soldiers, 53 innocent neighbours, 116 NPA heads and 63 of their security men. Those that had not been killed or injured in the explosion were killed or injured in the gunfight happening at the same time. A few prisoners were under hospital guard. Names were being kept secret.

The government was maximising the political windfall surrounding the event until it was discovered that three of those killed were senior members of the Philippines Government. Two were Senators, the other a Governor. Other lesser government political figures had also attended.

Despite that embarrassment, the government claimed the AFP was carrying out an official operation. Other rumours spread that the raid was an army officer on a pay-back mission of his own.

The press, however, were playing the official line that 20 soldiers were taking part in the organised raid, but were surprised at the extent of the resistance. Publicly the Philippines Government was treating the soldiers as heroes who, although out-gunned and outnumbered they carried on with the attack, and unselfishly sacrificed their lives in the line of duty.

Too many insiders knew the real story and the intended AFP punishment for the soldiers. It was still good press for a Government about to approach the World Bank and the United States for large Development Loans and Non-Repayable Assistance Grants.

The government's financial losses from the forced closure of the American military bases, in the early 1980's, was still being felt and was far greater than they had anticipated. Any politician conceding the closing of the US bases was a mistake would be tantamount to political suicide. Their own armed forces had become grossly underpaid in comparison to their position during the American presence. Though their equipment was still being supplied covertly by the USA, too much was being lost in the many operations against insurgents of both NPA and Muslim origins, according to government reports.

The 1998 crash of the Asian economies had a deeper long term effect than could really be measured in dollar terms. Secret financial aid had again been provided by the USA to help the ailing peso, and yet again in 2008 economic crisis.

What was not being reported was the real cause of the loss and final destination of the weapons. The Philippines President was badly misinformed. Even lower ranked officers had begun using extortion, blackmail and protection rackets against local businesses. Conversely, the number of their violent political opponents had begun to grow in strength, especially the NPA. In the south the Muslim Separatist Movement in Mindanao, under the general Islamic rise, were gaining ground. Cory Aquino's rise to power in 1986 had temporarily seen a drop in the number of dissenting rebel groups. Then her presidential successor, hero of the revolution, former General Ramos, managed to bring further high ranking NPA leaders back into the fold.

Even with former Muslim guerilla leader Nur Misuari now in the democratically elected Government, the Muslims had recently stepped up their campaigns of kidnapping and harassment of non-Muslims. Both Muslims and NPA had been blamed for daring hit and run attacks against outlying army barracks.

Since the American pullout, much of the social structure had turned around. Many attacks were not the NPA, but army extortion rackets getting their own revenge. Local army officers reported these attacks as being instigated by Muslim separatists or the NPA. Transferring blame helped both their careers and their pockets as they demanded more weapons.

Whatever the public believed to be the truth behind the conflicting stories about the Daet raid and explosion, the NPA had received an enormous setback. The organisational links between the different factions had been severed. Details of known contacts were destroyed with the deaths of the leaders. What little information that was saved was languishing under army guard among the few prisoners who had survived. More details would soon be extracted from the prisoners by torture. Any rebuilding would have to be done from the ground-roots up with a whole new network having to be established. 100,000 active NPA members were leaderless.

# CHAPTER 3

## MOURNING & PLANNING

### CAGAYAN DE ORO CITY, MINDANAO.

Warvic Garcia was despondent and slouched deeper in her armchair than usual. Not only had she lost many of her political peers and allies; some had been personal friends.

She looked at the plaster cast on her left leg and acknowledged that the unlucky ankle break before the summit meeting was the only thing that had prevented her from attending. The only positive thought she afforded herself was that she literally had a lucky break. That thought quickly faded as she realised she probably had a matter of hours before her safe refuge in Cagayan de Oro City would be known, and PATAG, (Philippines Anti-terrorist Army Group), with other military forces, would be paying her an uninvited call. She had to leave Cagayan de Oro as soon as possible.

It was an anomaly. The suburb she was living in was named Patag and also the location of Camp Evangelista, the Military Headquarters of the Philippines Army. The provincial Philippines Constabulary at nearby Camp Alagar in Lapasan was unlikely to be involved in any military raid. If the local Army Group at Camp Evangelista was assigned to assist, she would probably be warned by Colonel Villaluz, head of Camp Evangelista. She would then know exactly how long she had to escape. But if Villaluz had been compromised by a prisoner's confession he might try to make promotional capital out of the situation and arrest her. She decided not to trust the old links any longer.

Villaluz had been getting a sizeable regular pay from her for years. Though they had a professional respect for each other it did not run to genuine friendship. He had occasionally visited to play mah-jong with numerous others. Villaluz had been selling arms from the Camp Evangelista armoury to Warvic's group for years. He did not know Warvic's true position within the NPA or that it was one of Warvic's lieutenants organising the buying arms from him. Villaluz only thought of Warvic as the go-between for payment. If Villaluz was to die in conflict with the NPA, it would be from a rifle and bullet he had supplied.

The NPA was one of the few rebel groups in the world fully armed with American weapons instead of weapons from Communist or former Communist bloc countries. Whatever new American weapons the Armed Forces of the Philippines obtained, a supply of them were soon in the hands of the NPA

Warvic could only watch while her aides packed to make ready for her escape. At the new safe house she would have ample time to consider both her and the organisation's future. Sitting, watching and waiting, as others rushed around her in organised haste.

She was proud of her little crew. They had been with her for years and there would be time later to thank them. For now she just let them do a job they had done many times before with and without her. She had to exercise maximum self-control. Asking unnecessary questions of them about the packing would hinder, not help, the situation. Nevertheless she was keeping a wary eye on proceedings.

Her senior aide, Raul de los Reyes, wanted her to leave immediately news of the deaths and captures broke, though he knew what her response would be. She would not run without them, and they knew it. But protocol, loyalty and their admiration demanded that they give her the choice.

Warvic had already begun to think about re-organisation. This would be formalised and documented in Iligan, in Muslim territory.

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

### AUCKLAND, NEW ZEALAND

T.A. thought about Malou and wondered what she felt about the news of the NPA's demise. It would have been in the newspapers in Cebu, a major city in the southern islands of the Philippines known as the Visayas. He would ask her to send newspaper clippings but did not expect his request to receive any response. She tended to ignore any questions he asked.

T.A. often wondered how she could have passed her Commerce Degree if she was never prepared to answer questions directly. He thought commerce required logic, but she seemed illogical and often closed minded. He told her she was over qualified for her job as a teller at the Philippines National Bank, but as he subsequently learned, many of the tellers were graduates. It was a stable income.

Their meeting on his first visit to the Philippines resulted in frustration when he had tried to cash travellers' cheques at the bank branch where she was working. He had intentionally picked Malou as the teller he wanted to serve him. She was average height, for a Filipina. Her square shoulders matched the width of her hips and her waist was trim. He had seen her legs as she had walked away from the counter. They were shapely without excess muscle. Her black hair must have been about shoulder length, difficult to judge because it was tied back in a pony tail which swung back and forth as she walked. She did not have a typical Filipina face. There was a hint of strong Spanish blood reflected in her paler skin and her less flattened and slightly more pointed nose.

It was her dark brown eyes that pulled him in. Despite that, he felt she was being officious or testing him for a reaction, which she got, but not as she had expected. To T.A., the bank required too much unnecessary evidence regarding proof of ownership of the cheques. After his insisting on seeing the manager, the problem was sorted out. The evidence was part of bank policy to combat fraud in counterfeit travellers' cheques.

T.A. apologised to Malou for his outburst and asked her if she would join him for dinner as a token of apology. He was surprised that she accepted.

Her general silence and evasiveness to his questions over dinner annoyed him. He excused that as shyness and lack of English skills the first time. But even on subsequent visits she seemed reluctant to reveal her thoughts. She had the same habit when she responded to his letters. Despite all that, he began to think about her constantly. On his second visit she had taken leave from the bank and stayed with him when they visited Apuao Grande. By next March it would be two years since he had seen her.

He had only recently begun to think about where he would like to go next holiday. He did want to see Malou again. Besides, he was between relationships at the moment anyway. Perhaps he should think seriously about whether Malou might be what he really wanted.

Getting leave would not be a problem. His current contract expired in March. He would renew his option on an extension of contract by having a different re-start date. He had six months to plan and save for a holiday though he really had only one destination in mind. He would not tell her of his plans just yet. Last time he had told her he was going to the Philippines, he had to cancel his plans. She had been upset and angry with him for quite a while after that. He had broken the promise to be with her on her 30th birthday.

He abandoned any further work on the report and selected his bedtime reading from his collection of travel books. He picked up two on the Philippines and the large fold-up wall map of south-east Asia. Tomorrow he would find out if the private house he had used twice before on Apuao Grande would be available in March and April. Yes, he would like to visit there again. It was remote, isolated from the rest of the country's troubles, unpolluted by vehicles, and quiet. By March it would be just what he needed.

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

### ILIGAN, WEST MINDANAO.

The transfer to Iligan went smoothly. To Warvic, Iligan was a halfway house between Muslim and Christian territory. The population was an equal mix of both faiths. Most of the Catholic population considered it as Muslim dominated territory. Despite the religious differences, there had never been problems here like those of the Bosnians, Croats and Serbs in Yugoslavia.

Any problems in Mindanao were settled in the rain forest as Catholics, Muslims, NPA, private armies of landowners and large groups of bandits all had their own cause to push or greed to satisfy.

A few kilometres further west of Iligan was Marawi, capital of Lanao Province, where at least ninety percent of the population was Muslim. Marawi was a respected centre of learning, being the home of the Mindanao State University, nationally simply known as MSU

Warvic, soon after her arrival, called on one of the local Muslim Separatist leaders, Suraido Arompak. He was a graduate with honours in Political Science from MSU. His studies of other styles of politics almost made him a soul mate of Warvic. Despite their religious and educational differences they were firm friends.

Warvic had never had the opportunity to attend university. Her family's poverty, and the death of her father when she was 14, meant that as the oldest child she had to leave school immediately to find work to help support the family. She was pleased that her father had died; at least he was no longer there to sexually molest her. She was, however, angry with the manner of his death. He had been dragged out of bed in the middle of the night by a group of anti-Communist vigilantes and summarily executed. It was common knowledge among the poor that the hooded vigilantes were off duty soldiers. She was expected to support her six sisters and three brothers. Her mother had been too sick to do anything other than the most basic household chores for three years before that. After her father's death, Warvic's teen years and early twenties were all spent providing, planning and budgeting for the family's needs. It did not take long for outsiders to recognise and acknowledge her as the head of the family.

In the little time that she did have to herself, she read any books she could get her hands on. In the later years she had taken a keen interest in her country's politics. She could not understand the Marcos era, or how the former 'First family' of the Philippines could live in such extremes of affluence while their people suffered such poverty.

After putting two of her sisters through university she thought about finding a life of her own. During a short lived relationship with a young medical graduate, also disenchanted with the politics of the country, they both fled into the jungles of North Cotabato in South Mindanao, near Davao City. There, they joined with the growing number of idealists forming part of the New Peoples' Army (NPA). In the few years Warvic spent in the jungle, she saw people from all walks of life come and go. The disenchantment among the population had driven them to the arms of the NPA. Then, after a time, disenchantment with the discomforts and lifestyle in the jungle caused the bulk to return to the cities.

She met Suraido Arompak by chance at a prisoner swap with the Muslims. This was at the time Warvic was with the Ilagas. They were a group formed in Mindanao by a Christian Ilongo settler to fight the Moros. The Muslim Moros had their own military arm called the Black-shirts. Both sides were well equipped with weapons. Despite Warvic and Suraido being on different warring sides there was an immediate rapport between them. There was never any physical attraction, just an immediate respect and admiration. It was a friendship that not only survived, but grew over the intervening years.

It was from Arompak that she learned that Colonel Villaluz, with his own men and a few PATAG soldiers had arrived unannounced at her previous hideaway in Cagayan de Oro. Some of her neighbours were arrested, tortured and killed for failing to notify the local militia of Warvic's presence as an NPA sympathiser.

Colonel Villaluz's hypocritical action angered Warvic to the extent that she vowed to herself that he would die for this act. His attempt to cover his own corruption had caused injury and death to innocent civilians. Some of those arrested were well known to Warvic, but she was sure that none of them knew of her NPA activities. Many though had seen Villaluz visit her. Those neighbours were eliminated as witnesses to Villaluz's indiscretions.

To most people Warvic was an enigma. She was not at all attractive. Not quite, but nearly bordering on ugly. Yet the men who kept her company always seemed to be handsome. Those who knew her very well, also knew of her bi-sexuality. Her sex with men gave her a feeling of control, power and superiority over men in general. But it was her sex with other women that gave her physical and emotional fulfilment.

Warvic was of average height. Most people would call her dumpy or tubby. The loose fitting clothes that she wore were certainly the same as those worn by chubby or fat people, but underneath was a solid and well muscled body. If she had been in the Eastern European sector during her hey-day in the 1980's, she would have been taken for a female shot-putter. In contrast to her teens, however, she was a bit shorted-winded through her excessive smoking. Something she had taken up after leaving home in her twenties.

Now she was in her forties, she often felt she should be doing more about keeping fit. Her occasional excursions into the hills, to visit NPA military jungle camps, had shown others that she was not only able to keep up, but generally lead. Warvic alone knew that it was only her determination that kept her going. It was always at a cost of great muscular pains suffered secretly for days afterwards. She now found any excuse to send deputies on errands to the hills. Her last jungle trip had been to Esperanza in the Misamis Oriental part of Mindanao. It had taken her weeks to recover. She feigned normalcy through all the jungle trekking. Her walking style had always been masculine and swaggering. To others, unaware of the screaming muscles in her body, her walk seemed more macho than usual.

The accident in which she broke her leg caused her private embarrassment. It had not happened during a glorious act in the name of freedom, but simply falling into an uncovered drainage hole during a monsoon shower. Apart from missing the fatal meeting, it had not inconvenienced her too greatly. It just meant that her mah-jong playing friends had to visit her instead of sharing the venues around. The only other thing she missed was her occasional Sunday gambling at the cock-fights. She had long ago got used to being one of the very few women attending. Generally she came away from the cockfights winning more often than she lost.

Her NPA group, as did all of the others in Mindanao, currently maintained an unholy alliance with several of the different groups of Muslim Separatists. It was more than a mere acknowledgment and acceptance of each group's right to exist. It was recognition that they really had one common enemy in the central government. When required it had resulted in unofficial co-operation between the NPA and some Muslim groups, as was now happening. Although Suraido Arompak was head of only one Muslim group, his power was respected by them all. None would intentionally contradict him or flout his authority. It was a mystery to Warvic why the Muslims could not unite under a common cause instead of fragmenting as they had. United they would be a powerful force.

Her personal announcement of her arrival to Suraido Arompak had a twofold purpose. Firstly to show there was nothing covert about her entry into Muslim territory. Secondly her presence in his patch left him with an unwritten obligation to protect her and her group. This obligation was willingly accepted. Suraido had been fed through the NPA network many times when he travelled outside his own spheres of influence. Local Muslim militants were aware that Warvic's group was under the protective wing of Arompak, and would respect her as an honoured guest. Warvic knew that for a long time she would have to depend on it.

She wondered how to resurrect the movement. For now, she was the movement, and was its leader by default. There were no rivals or challengers for the position. She considered all those killed at the meeting or jailed were too conservative anyway, just as they had considered her too reactionary and too militaristic. They had grown too comfortable in their positions to take any real or decisive action that might put their life-style at risk, only paying lip service to the aims of the movement. Those divergences had all finished with the explosion at Mercedes.

Warvic was not a Marxist, Communist, Leninist, or any of the theoreticians. Warvic was firstly a Filipino. She believed in her country and her people. The Peoples Power Movement after overthrowing Marcos in 1986 should have been allowed to follow its natural course. Instead, the initial impetus and ensuing dream of hope for change had been diverted away from its roots by some weak-minded and corrupt politicians. Cory Aquino had failed her people by failing to rid the country and government of the corruption. Cory did have the people's mandate and hopes early on and even had full military support at the very beginning. Even the army rebel reformists, such as Colonel 'Gringo' Honasan, Colonel Noble and their personal supporters within the army, knew that Cory had to act quickly. If she had accepted Gringo and Noble as allies instead of treating them as threats, then adopted many of their policies, the spontaneous eruption of the People Power Movement would have seen the real Philippines emerge.

This had been another area where Warvic seemed forever in disagreement with her now deceased or imprisoned colleagues. They felt a complete change in the style and system of government was needed. Warvic did not. Calmly and resolutely she argued against their ideas without managing to change anyone's opinion. She was never worried they might act on their plans. They had become armchair warriors.

She often wondered how she kept her position within the organisation, although she really did know. Her organisational talents were the envy of all her compatriots. They would bounce ideas, plans and schemes off her. They knew that she might not politically agree with the action being planned, yet would still throw her organisational ability behind it.

Now alone, without dissenters, she could use her talent to plan her own style New Peoples Army.

Before embarking on an agenda she had to formalise the plan, its aims, its pitfalls, and its consequences. She began to think deeply about how to upset the immediate and long term goals of the existing government. It had economic strategists working on a series of development blueprints to remedy the present and ongoing stagnation of the economy. To Warvic, this was a facade to create different ways to line the pockets of the same bureaucrats and their cronies.

Little had really changed since 1986 after Marcos. Many of the same officials were still getting their cuts out of government contracts. The only changes were in the numbers and some of the names of the parasites. In many areas the numbers had increased. No government action or policy had succeeded. Whenever one area of corruption was uncovered, two more would spring up in its place. The Philippine Commission on Good Government, set up to root out the malpractice, had lost its way, blinded by personal vendettas, infighting and some of their own corruption. It had been set up by Aquino in good faith, and it was all being done 'for the benefit of you, my Filipino people.'

Part of the Great Recovery Plan of the present government was to gain the confidence of the people, show they had real plans for the future, and would yield benefits for all. Details would be released early in the New Year. Approaches would be made to the USA and the World Bank for long term finances to undertake various development projects. The government had been using an excellent public relations system to make its actions known. Unfortunately, Warvic felt, the Filipino people again seemed to be believe that this time everything was going to succeed, and everyone was going to benefit.

Warvic knew from past experience that most of the money would be siphoned off into the pockets of the same corrupt bureaucrats and planners, despite anything honest members of the government might try to do. Previously, when foreign money had been borrowed for building roads, new roadmaps were altered to show the new financed and completed tarsealed highways of forty kilometres and more in some remote parts. The facts were different. As a token gesture to the intention of the loans, perhaps two kilometres of roadway would be constructed to the plan. Then the roads reverted to their previous normal dust and rock surfaces. The road builders could show that they had run out of finance. Yet records and maps showed the project was completed and, even more importantly for payment purposes, completed on time. Similar fates resulted for the factories and power projects.

The people stealing from the system did not care. Their senior or government positions were all protected by the pay-off system all down the line. Warvic knew that less than 20% of the foreign aid cash received ever got to those who needed it. Racketeers made even bigger profits out of emergency aid given by foreign governments after the many natural disasters that regularly occurred in the Philippines. The earthquake disasters were exacerbated by use of substandard material, and short measures of concrete and reinforcing. Yet the full price had been paid as if the proper materials and measures had been used. Huge profits were made out of the emergency food supplied to the hungry in devastated areas by substituting cheap local products for the donated overseas product; then privately selling off overseas food aid at their luxury market prices, the profits going to the racketeers.

Warvic had details of many of the emergency clothing scams. Donor countries had given bedding, blankets and clothing by the ton as relief supplies for distribution to families who had lost everything. Sometimes nothing got to the victims. As soon as all the material was received, it was supposedly sorted on arrival. The real reason behind the sorting was to find which items could be cleaned well enough for re-sale.

Many clothes donated came from wealthy overseas families had little, if any wear. These items were separated and sold to some of the high fashion boutiques at a price set for all parties to make a profit. Resold by the boutiques they were tagged as special imported goods. The end buyers never knew the true routing and believed the original source from the label of the manufacturer. Better blankets and sheets were laundered and packed in official looking plastic baggage and sold as new to other willing buyers. All parties made sure they got a sizeable profit.

None of these profits were passed on to any famine relief organisation. The people involved seemed to have no social conscience about their actions. Whole shipments of relief clothing simply vanished. Nobody accepted responsibility, or had explanations for missing shipments.

Each time Warvic thought of these scams, she knew they had to be stopped. If the perpetrators were publicly executed, whatever their position, it would be the best deterrent to other possible thoughts of corruption. Worse, if this new crop of Development Loans were granted, by the time the current generation of thieves had taken their cut, it would leave a greater debt to be repaid from the pockets of the next generation of Filipinos. They would then be too tied up in debt repayment to enable the country to ever recover. To Warvic this was intolerable. She had to destroy the government's chances of obtaining overseas aid. That had to be the basis of her plan.

Her action plan had to be prepared like an investment strategy or stock market float to a prospective client; then, presented as a formal business plan with every action covered. But there would have to be a secret agenda ensuring Filipinos benefited more than the individual buyers of the plan.

She headed her page "Keys to Success" then began the list.

1/ Destroy the Government credibility in the eyes of the USA, the World Bank in particular and the world in general.

2/ Expose corrupt elected and public officials, army personnel, standover tactics and protection rackets. Name and shame the private profiteers and racketeers. Show the world the wide extent of the corruption.

3/ Show the USA, the World Bank and the world in general that the Government did not have effective control of the people, country or the countryside by mounting military operations.

4/ Show the extent of the people's support of the New NPA

5/ Show the New NPA as a genuine people's movement, and not communist inspired.

She flipped the page and headed it "Prospective Supportive Governments."

1/ Libya - money, training, weapons, manpower aid

2/ Iran - ditto

3/ China - ditto

4/ Indonesia - ditto

Subheading on same page "Pay-offs"

1/ Libya - allow oil field development in West Mindanao, maybe hint at independence for Muslims. Libya was the foreign government with the closest ties to the area.

2/ Iran – give greater freedom for the Muslim Fundamentalists in Western Mindanao, with possible independence for West Mindanao.

3/ China – allow secession of one or more of the islands north of Luzon at a cash price, to enable them to put more pressure on Taiwan.

4/ Indonesia - support for their eastern expansionist ideas and plans for Sarawak, Brunei and Sabah.

Again she flipped a page and headed it "Prospective Supportive Groups."

1/ Muslims

\- in Malaysia

\- in Indonesia

\- in Afghanistan

\- in Western Mindanao

\- in Iran

2/ Al Queda - if interested

3/ Red Army Faction from Germany - if still functioning

4/ PLO - or possibly Hamas support

5/ Red Army Group from Japan

6/ The Hezbolah groups in South Lebanon

7/ North Korea - if they could be trusted

8/ Syria - play on their anti-American feeling

9/ Libya - perhaps the best choice

This was only the beginning. There would be many changes as the plan developed and evolved. Everything needed full documentation. Security only needed good hiding places for some memory sticks.

She was never far away from her laptop computer. Awareness of security meant she never saved information on the hard disc, only on USB sticks. Loss of the laptop would only be an inconvenience; it would never reveal what had been entered. With the exception of her aide Raul de los Reyes, her staff did not know where the memory sticks were kept.

Her plan had to attract attention outside of the Philippines to work. One way to show that the Armed Forces of the Philippines (AFP) were not in control would be to take foreign hostages. Most easily that would be where foreigners congregated, at tourist resorts.

Time and resources were critical. Much preliminary research could be done by others. She immediately despatched her aide Raul de los Reyes and two others to Manila to visit as many travel agents as possible and collect brochures on island and coastal tourist resorts frequented by foreigners. Flying, though quicker, would be dangerous. Airports were being watched more carefully than normal. She could not risk Raul or the others being recognised and arrested. A ferry would be safer. Large numbers of passengers disembarking made it difficult for officials to watch them all, unless they herded them through a cattle race. Their absence on this assignment would give her further time to fine hone her plans.

# CHAPTER 4

## EXPANSION & PRESS RELEASES

ILIGAN, WEST MINDANAO.

Raul's group was back from Manila in a week. The boat trip of two nights each way had allowed only three days in the capital. Despite that they accumulated three fully packed and very heavy suitcases of brochures.

Warvic immediately got everyone sorting them into common location, then into mainland or offshore sites. Some brochures were duplicated many times over. When Raul apologised for the duplication, Warvic simply shrugged. Then she realised the number of different brochures produced by a resort and held by the greatest number of travel agents was important information. It gave an indication of each resort's prominence and popularity among tourists.

"Raul, you're a darling. I just wished I had thought of it before." She liked to play to his effeminate side.

Raul looked at Warvic with curiosity, yet knew better than to interrupt her train of thought.

She had previously thought of priority based on price. But price did not mean big numbers of foreigners. Many catered for the foreign back-pack community. Popularity and common usage were the best priority. She would target the most popular resorts for foreigners.

It was late into the night when she dismissed the staff. They had all offered to carry on but she wanted time to herself to digest all the information. She studied each brochure for each area in turn. It would not a problem finding enough suitable targets, but a case of narrowing it down to a manageable number.

'Were there really this many? Where had she been hiding herself all these years?' She had been aware of the well known areas like Boracay, Bohol Beach, Dakak and Puerto Galera. Some of the smaller resorts would present interesting alternatives. The best known beaches had several resorts at the same general location. That could cause problems if the local resorts were spread over a wide area. There might be too many foreigners to quickly round up and control in a short time frame.

Firstly her targets had to be easy to isolate or quarantine from locals, so her soldiers could establish themselves without local interference. Then the target had to be easily defendable, firstly against unexpected local resistance, then against the more organised and formidable AFP. Secondly, any resort must contain a good mixture of foreign nationalities to achieve maximum worldwide publicity. The problem of easy isolation could be overcome with careful selection. The problem of defendability would be overcome by on site research and studying photographs and videos that she would have taken of the resorts selected. The third criteria - numbers of foreign nationals - could be estimated from the amount of accommodation offered by each resort.

By selecting an excess of possibilities she could then drop off the less preferable as necessary. Defendability depended not just on her available manpower, or even the firepower they would wield. The attitude of the locals would be critical. If the locals were anti-NPA, then the chances of success diminished accordingly. They could hinder any takeover by assisting the tourists and disrupt the subsequent escape of the NPA. If they were pro-NPA however, they could assist the NPA escape.

A suitably defensive terrain would be critical. The source, direction and nature of any counter-attack would obviously vary. Nearby forest or jungle cover had to be thick enough to provide a place to hide when needed.

She looked at the brochures and maps for the first resort she had considered, Boracay. It was not going to be as simple as she had first thought. Ideally Boracay would have been a small island and therefore easily isolateable. But Boracay was seven kilometres long, one kilometre wide at its narrowest point and 2.5 kilometres wide in the broader north. It was much larger than she had imagined. It was almost shaped like a chicken leg. There were several resorts on the island, not just one or two as she had thought.

Adding to that, resorts were situated on both sides of the island with one in the north above the fat part of the chicken leg. Furthermore, there were three large barangays or villages as well as many smaller barrios. The island was filled with an intricate network of paths and trails between the villages and the resorts. All of those factors could cause a problem of control with the limited manpower she had envisaged for each operation. Tourists from all the resorts would have to be gathered in one area for easier control.

Although the nationalities of the tourists had to be broad, it needed to be balanced against the amount of risk to which her soldiers would be exposed. After choosing the minimal danger, they then must have the best chance of escape when the objectives had been achieved. Once their presence at each resort was known it would be tested by AFP reconnaissance in small numbers. Her NPA was to inflict maximum damage on the AFP, then withdraw and escape. Hit and run.

Failure at one or two resorts would be probable, and acceptable. Failure at many would mean the destruction of the remainder of her organisation. It would definitely be the end of her position within it.

She would make escape suggestions but the final decision on the best method would be left to the leader on the spot.

Any harm of foreign hostages would antagonise the foreign governments that she was trying to gain recognition and respect from. Harm to the locals would lose the support that she was seeking from a true popular uprising.

Boracay would fall into the very short term category because of the large number of resorts. It had to be included as it was the most internationally acclaimed tourist destination in the Philippines. It would therefore attract the widest international attention. The world would see that the Philippine Government was not in control if the military could not protect international travellers at their international resorts.

Seizures had to occur simultaneously. If her soldiers then disappeared like ghosts, it would seem to be even more evident that the participants were local NPA Any government reprisals against the locals would be playing right into her hands. It would further turn the locals against the government and toward her sphere of influence.

Puerto Galera, on the north east of Mindoro, also had several prospective, though widespread, resorts. There were too many to isolate them all. If she concentrated on two or three areas, it might work. They could seize several resorts for the greatest effect then transfer hostages to one area from where her soldiers could escape easily.

The air force had too few aircraft and the navy too few ships and boats to isolate so many islands. Their effect would be minimal. If escapes were made by suitable bancas, it would be too hard to distinguish between fishermen and her soldiers.

After listing the assignments she wanted her staff to carry out, she realised more help would be needed to gather the information.

Checking her coded diary showed there were sufficient existing funds to cover immediate capital requirements. Hopefully the funds had not been compromised by the Daet action. More would come later from bank raids. Firstly her shopping list was digital cameras with zoom lenses, and digital video cameras with lots of memory chips.

Intensive training in their proper use would be needed. She dismissed the alternative to buying cameras by raiding camera shops. That could draw unwelcome attention from police if a member of her staff was discovered using a stolen camera. The whole operation could be jeopardised by taking unnecessary risks this early.

She would get some cameras through an NPA supporter who owned a shop in Davao. He could bring the equipment to Iligan and train her personnel in their use. For the remainder of the equipment, she would spread the purchases between Cagayan de Oro and Zamboanga.

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

The photography lessons proved to be a fun-filled and happy time. Warvic was impressed with the rapid improvement. After four days teaching the camera supplier went back to Davao wondering what the reason was behind all his work. Warvic did not confide in him at all. The balance of the equipment arrived before the end of the week.

Paired as husband and wife teams each of the twenty-five teams was given a digital still camera and a video camera. Each team would visit three tourist resorts areas. None of them had ever been to any international resorts. The thought of spending a minimum of four days in each as holidaying Filipinos was appealing. While there they would video as much and take as many photographs of the areas as practical with emphasis on the terrain and buildings; then talk with locals and get a feel for local politics to see if there was any support for the NPA, obviously without revealing their own allegiances.

Within 48 hours, all of the teams had departed. Warvic had to sit back and wait for their return.

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

### Iligan, West Mindanao, September

Warvic enjoyed the time alone. Her leg was now out of the restricting plaster, but she was shocked at the extent of the wasted muscle; it would have to be quickly rebuilt.

She was ahead of the timetable she had set and the time alone allowed her to expand plans for each of the seventy-five targets. Each area had its own file on memory stick with scanned images and geographical notes, Information was building daily.

Her other plan, discrediting of government officials and leading members of the community, would be stage-managed over the time leading up to the takeovers. Stories would be broken to the foreign press regularly to keep an international spotlight continually playing on the Philippines. It would be useless releasing anything to the Philippines press. The papers would approach the guilty parties and get a far better reward for not publishing the stories.

It was better releasing verifiable stories to overseas papers, the chance of publication abroad increased. Most of the background information for discrediting officials was already in her possession. She knew the habit of keeping records of old indiscretions and corruption would pay off one day. That information would now be put to good use.

The first story would go to the Japanese press. Wherever it was released, if it was newsworthy enough, it would soon be picked up by the other presses of the world. Then, once it had been printed around the world, the local press would have to run the same stories, or be accused of being in the pay of the guilty parties.

Warvic did not care if the local press ran it or not. Her intention was to discredit Filipino politicians in the eyes of the world. She decided to pick the Japanese press partly because of their sense of self-righteousness in political matters, but mostly because of their government's influence on the World Bank. She did not like Japanese people. The few she had met still treated Filipinos as serfs. Their government self-serving attitude to de-afforestation of rainforest timbers, whaling and wildlife outside of their own country was hypocritical, but if their press and government could help her cause, she would use them.

Warvic's first press release praised the Japanese Government and people for their continual generosity toward the Filipino people in times of natural disasters. Then she revealed details of a donation of 500,000 cases of canned tuna by the Japanese people after a disastrous tornado. It was donated to feed those who were made homeless and lost all their crops. She gave details of the name of the ship bringing the cargo in and the warehouse where the tuna was transferred to. Then she sprang the surprise. The Japanese tuna never reached the people for who it was intended. Affected locals received a reduced amount of inferior locally tinned fish and the Japanese tuna ended up on supermarket shelves.

At that time she gave the supermarket price of a can of Japanese tuna as around 36 pesos while the price of the same canned local Filipino product was 12 pesos. Then, a price difference of 24 pesos or US$1.00 a can. Each case contained 24 cans, so some people had shared in a profit in excess of US$12 million for the whole shipment. Warvic named all those she knew were involved. She named the politicians who suggested the fish donation to the Japanese Government and arranged its shipping, and the bankers who put up the money to pay for the local Philippine tuna and local manufacturers who diverted 500,000 cases of local tinned fish. The same manufacturers had told the government they had no excess available to send to devastated areas, and could not even keep up with local demand from the supermarkets. She named the trucking firm that shipped the Japanese tuna to a secret warehouse, and the location of that warehouse.

The Japanese tuna was stored before gradually being sold off to local supermarkets. Some was re-exported from the Philippines to enable profiteers to take their gains in non-Filipino currency. She estimated the profits of each of the senior people taking part at US$250,000. Everyone else all down the line received substantial, but lesser pay-outs, right down to the truck drivers taking part.

She continued her letter to the selected paper in Tokyo thanking the Japanese people for their support and a final comment. The distribution was finally made of around 100,000 cases of Filipino tuna to hungry people, only twenty percent of the 500,000 cases of substituted Filipino tinned food. Eighty percent had been lost in shipping to the devastated areas by further pilfering and pay-offs to local officials.

Her article asked, "Was it the intention of the Japanese government, to indirectly buy favour of Filipino government officials, or should the Filipino government officials have paid their profits to the rebuilding program?"

Warvic was sure this was enough to get the Japanese press interested enough to start asking questions of their own politicians, or whether there was in fact an indirect pay-off to Filipino politicians. Some would want to know why only twenty percent of the substitute tuna got through. Others would want to know why all one hundred percent of the original Japanese tinned fish was not distributed to the people it was meant for. Whether it was theft of the original tuna or theft of 80% of the substituted fish was irrelevant to Warvic. She was disgusted either way.

She knew that she could send the same letter, with little change, to the New Zealand press. Local Filipino tinned corned beef had been substituted for the much superior and larger tins of New Zealand corned beef. Another approximate US$8 million profit was made mostly by the same people, though that scam was uncovered and received a brief mention in the Filipino press, and lightly dismissed by the government as an unfortunate event. They offered the excuse that the New Zealand product was too rich for the stomachs of rural people and would make them ill.

The New Zealand news release could therefore be prepared early and be ready to release at the most advantageous time.

There were dozens of other subjects to be written about, many involving the former Marcos regime and previous World Bank grants and loans. Loans had been made to build selected power projects which were never started. The loan moneys advanced had never reached the Philippines Treasury. For USA stories the Washington Post would be sent the information.

To capture the interest of the American reading public, Warvic knew she could point out a particular USA Aid package for development of a thermal power project in the Philippines. It was made by President Reagan directly to Marcos during a Marcos visit to the USA. The money never reached the Philippine Treasury. The thermal power project never got beyond the design stage as presented to Reagan. Warvic would then pose the question whether the money was a personal political pay-off to Marcos for his loyalty to the American government. She knew that Reagan would have given the money in good faith, but after the Iran/Contra affair the American public would question anything odd about the Reagan presidency years. That story she would send maybe two weeks after releasing the story on the substituted Japanese tinned fish scam.

For those interested in the sex side of things as presented in the Clinton years, she had names for the representatives of the World Bank to the Philippines for progress inspection on approved sites. Those inspectors never left their bedrooms or hotel. They were too busy with government supplied female escorts.

She could release at least one story about top Filipino politicians and businessmen every two weeks. She even had a few juicy facts about some of the church leaders, but she did not want to use these. Not at this stage of her plans anyway. She had enough information to discredit many Filipino politicians, business, and community leaders to keep the presses rolling.

The time involved to fully document her plans left no time for beloved mah-jong or cockfights. No time either for discos on her now uncased but skinnier muscle-wasted leg; or for entertaining guests. The ideas were giving her greater satisfaction than mah-jong or cockfights. Her physical desires diminished with the increased hours spent on the computer.

With her little teams away she could consider what additional information she needed to gather before approaching possible financiers.

By drafting a whole new battle plan with previously untried tactics, if she could make it work, it could be a blueprint for popular uprisings in other countries. In years to come people might think of her as the Che Guevara of Asia. This appealed to her vanity. It was going to be hard work, but it was going to be worth it.

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

### ILIGAN, WEST MINDANAO

Soon after she had begun to formalise her plans, Warvic asked Suraido if he could arrange a secret meeting with an influential member of the Libyan Embassy. He had merely nodded affirmatively, but Warvic knew the nod would result in a meeting.

Over the ensuing weeks, Suraido called on Warvic every Tuesdays, Thursdays and Saturday evenings at her Iligan home. She become quite settled and looked forward to Suraido's visits feeling the friendship started many years ago had grown. It was as close as she had ever felt with a man. It was still non-sexual, and as far as Warvic was concerned, always would be.

His visits balanced business and friendship. Firstly to ensure that she and her staff were secure and secondly to advise on his progress with unifying the Muslim groups. In response Warvic kept him informed on progress in re-establishing links to other NPA groups. She was pleased to report that most of the active groups in the jungles throughout the Philippines had acknowledged her contact with new communication lines. If the situation called for it, she could mount a campaign with nearly 20,000 armed supporters of the NPA. Any impatient question of when the meeting with Libyan official would occur might embarrass Suraido. It would happen.

At the end of business discussions they would move off into friendly disagreement on politics or religion. They were always amicable without friction or noisy disagreement.

Suraido's unexpected arrival on a Wednesday morning surprised Warvic. From the beaming smile on his face it had to be good news.

"A Libyan attache from the embassy in Manila is visiting Iligan. He's going to give us a private meeting the day after he arrives. So, can you wait a few days?" The grin stayed broadly on Suraido's face as he delivered the news.

Warvic came as close to giving Suraido a kiss as she was ever likely to, but did not.

"When?" asked Warvic.

"Soon. I'll let you know exactly in a day or two. I had to let you know as soon as I heard so you could finalise your submissions."

"It'll be ready, don't worry," she responded.

There were few travel restrictions on foreign Embassy officials, though the Philippines government did keep a closer eye on the activities of Muslim officials. They were always concerned about possible political influence being attempted in the Muslim mosques. Officially at least, the Libyans respected the predominance of Catholicism within the country.

The presence of a Muslim official in a predominantly Muslim area was not out of place. Numerous Middle Easterner tourists visited Iligan and western Mindanao.

Warvic felt sure she was as prepared as she could be for the secret meeting. Without disclosing details, her printed out plan was both full and precise. If necessary she would verbally provide detail but would not commit anything to print.

# CHAPTER 5

## ORGANISING THE HELP & RESOURCES

### ILIGAN, WEST MINDANAO

The attache greeted Suraido as a long lost friend and offered him a seat immediately in front of his desk. The attache ignored the presence of Warvic in the room. Suraido pulled a spare chair alongside his and gestured for Warvic to sit. The Libyan frowned disapprovingly as Warvic sat almost immediately to his front. Warvic began to give a verbal précìs of the plan but the attache looked everywhere else in the room except at Warvic. When she finished, she placed the bound plan in front of him.

The Libyan seemed disinterested, merely looking fleetingly at the booklet she had so painstakingly prepared. He could not disguise his surprise at the sophistication of the presentation. Warvic did not want to part with such a detailed outline of the plan, but she knew she had to. If it fell into the wrong hands, weeks of work would be wasted.

Suraido, realising her concerns, tried to reassure her that her plan would receive the highest degree of security and confidentiality. Warvic's confidence in Suraido's reassurance dropped when the Libyan casually pushed the precious document to the side of his desk as if brushing away some dust.

When Warvic endeavoured to press for a decision date, the Libyan official ignored her. He carried on a conversation with Suraido as though she was not even in the room.

Warvic immediately knew that she would have no conscience about the hidden agenda in her plan.

After the meeting was concluded, the Libyan stood and shook hands with Suraido then sat down. Warvic offered her hand but the Libyan merely picked up his pen and began to write on a notepad on the desk. Suraido, gently, but firmly guided Warvic toward the door. It was not difficult to sense that Warvic was inwardly fuming at the chauvinistic attitude of the official. Although Suraido tried to placate Warvic, he also knew that if this embassy official was ever known by Warvic to be travelling through an NPA area, he would never leave the area alive. Even in Manila, outside the embassy he would be a target, if and when Warvic decided it so. Some insults could never be forgiven. As a Filipino first and a Muslim second, Suraido could understand that.

He decided that after he had escorted Warvic back to her Iligan safe house he would return to the embassy official for further discussions.

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

Warvic was not good company for her personal aides over the next few days. Even when Suraido called on her she remained surly and quiet.

Three weeks after the meeting with the Libyan it seemed to Warvic that Suraido was at last going to tackle the problem and confront her about it. When he entered that day he made Warvic sit down in her own comfortable chair that she brought with her from Cagayan de Oro.

"He is not Filipino," said Suraido.

"I will kill him," she replied.

He grinned at her. "Then let it wait until after the meeting."

"What meeting?"

"The meeting he wants to have with us tomorrow," replied Suraido.

"News already?" she asked.

"Well, I don't know what it's about, but I did get the message for us to meet with him tomorrow. I know he went straight back to Manila after our meeting. Now he is flying in to Lanao tomorrow on a charter flight. So they must have given it some serious thought to arrange a special flight and be back already."

"Well then, perhaps he might have a temporary remission of sentence," replied Warvic.

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

It was the good news, confirming Libyan backing that snapped Warvic out of her murderous mood. She knew, just as Suraido knew, the chauvinistic insult she had received had merely postponed the Libyan attache's death. Even with the delivery of the news, the Libyan made the announcement to Suraido that his plan had been approved. The documents were returned to him, together with a folder detailing the support the Libyans would give. He again ignored Warvic. She barely managed to control her anger. Only the consoling thought that continued to run through her mind was, 'You can wait!'

Returning to Warvic's apartment her helpers could see from the happy expression on her face that she had good news.

"It's gonna happen everyone," she said to her little group. The applause and embracing was as if a new baby had just been born. After a nod from Warvic all the staff except Raul left the room.

Suraido and Warvic cleared the table and opened the folder given them by the attache. As Warvic had requested and hoped, training was offered for up to 3,200 men in three separate groups. Because of the timetable she had set, Libya would provide transport arrangements. She would be contacted later how this was going to be done.

The major items she had requested were going to be supplied in full, with complete training in their use being given. Stinger missiles, .50 calibre machine guns and ammunition, night vision glasses, rocket propelled grenades, walkie-talkie and long range transmitters were listed in the supplies.

In exchange, the Libyans wanted full independence for the Muslims in Western Mindanao. On establishment of the Philippine Communist Cental Government, it required recognition of Western Mindanao as a separate country. Then the new Philippines Administration would give support for the application of Western Mindanao for entry to the United Nations. The world would have to accept the legitimacy of the new independent Muslim country if its former rulers recognised it.

All other weapons she would have to obtain herself. That would not be a problem, merely a matter of organisation.

Warvic had been thinking about the need for gathering weapons for quite some time. There were already large caches of most weapons either being carried or hidden. The ages of the weapons varied. Other than that, little had changed in the design, so most parts were interchangeable. It would be good for morale and efficiency if they had a surplus of the latest personal weapons. Her worries about supply of the heavier weapons, communication equipment and missiles had been solved by the Libyans.

The greatest bonus was that her soldiers would be properly trained in tactics and the use of all the equipment. The Libyans also accepted her request to provide trained foreign nationals as Group Leaders for each task force. Like her, the Libyans knew that the chances of success were increased if foreign mercenaries were directly involved. Masks would be used to prevent any obvious sign of outside assistance. The action had to be seen as totally Filipino.

She could now concentrate on ideas for re-arming her soldiers with newer personal weapons from local sources.

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

### AUCKLAND, NEW ZEALAND

T.A. decided he would fly to the Philippines in March, just before Easter. Though still months away, he would book early. He was aware tens of thousands of overseas Filipinos, 'balak bayans', returned 'home' to celebrate Easter with their families. Booking early would secure his seat and payment would not be required until February.

Flying into Manila allowed a few enjoyable days checking out some of the girlie bars in the red light district of Ermita. That might be an enjoyable sideshow. Flying into Cebu would have meant meeting with Malou sooner, but only Philippine Airlines flew into Cebu and he chose Qantas.

It had been a long time since he had the opportunity to feel like a child in a sweet shop. Though it was not lollies he would be paying for. He cursed the thought that he would have to take precautions. Sex was now a matter of life and death with Aids. A high percentage of the bar girls were probably infected. That was not his only concern. If he did not take precautions and did catch some infection in the few days immediately prior to meeting up with Malou, he could never be certain of the source of the infection. It would be difficult trying to explain an infection to Malou if he did pass it on. Some infections would take as little as seven days to reveal themselves, others up to a month or more. He could never be 100% certain he had not got it from her. If he believed her letters it was unlikely, but she had never struck him as being the celibate type. If he did wear condoms before he saw her and then caught something after he was with her, he would know for sure not to believe her letters.

He always had a medical check-up before and after returning from his Asian trips. It was always good to know that he was healthy. It was not quite like having a car service, but it made him feel less concerned about passing something along when he had a new sex partner.

A past embarrassment confirmed that. A few weeks after a one night stand with a married woman, he received a very abusive phone call from her. She accused him of infecting her. He had not noticed any symptoms before being with her. Although he had felt some minor discomfort when passing urine, he dismissed the thought that he might have contracted something. He thought it was too soon for any symptoms from that encounter to show. Possibly it was only passing small gall stones. The married woman accused him of intentionally trying to ruin her marriage.

Because of her abusive non-conciliatory outburst he was not feeling remorseful, quite the reverse. He turned the argument around by suggesting that she question her husband closely about his fidelity. T.A. feigned disgust that her husband had infected her and now she had passed the infection on to him.

T.A. knew he had twisted the truth but he did not like being abused. The day after the abusive phone call he received a phone call from another woman that he had been active with two weeks before the married woman. She was most apologetic. She had just discovered that she had an infection and felt she should warn T.A. He thanked her for letting him know and he would attend to it.

A further two days later the married woman phoned again. This time she was most apologetic. She had just left her husband because he had been cheating on her. She had obviously accused her husband with the same vitriol that she had attacked T.A. Her husband, unaware of the wife's indiscretion, caved in and confessed that he had been having affairs for two years and begged her forgiveness. Perhaps there was some justice in the world after all. She was a lousy lover anyway; no wonder the husband wanted to get decently laid. Why should the married woman be upset with her husband? He was only doing the same thing she was doing.

The other time he was infected it had destroyed a long term relationship. One night, while his live in girlfriend was away helping her sister with a new born baby, he had gone out for drinks with some work friends. They met a group of women on a 'girlie night out'. After a lot of encouragement from his friends and even more drinks from the bar, he had gone to bed with one of the women. His feeling of remorse was compounded when he had to explain his indiscretion and even worse, his infection, to his live-in girlfriend two weeks later. She had packed and left within hours despite his pleas for forgiveness.

The anger with himself for his stupidity was tainted with his own marital experience. During his ten years of marriage he had conscientiously not strayed, though a very large number of opportunities had presented themselves over the years. He discovered his wife had not been as conscientious, and had taken numerous opportunities, even including his brother-in- law.

For the present he had no real commitment. The relationship with Malou was not a genuine one. The tyranny of distance and the irregularity of his visits to the Philippines meant that a real feeling of togetherness could not develop. If it did on the next visit, then he would get her into New Zealand on a fiancée visa and then they could marry.

Until that decision was made he would keep aside a few extra dollars for the 'lolly scramble' time in Manila.

$US were preferred for conversion by most dealers and traders, so he began to put away a good mixture of US travellers cheques, $US, Australian dollars, and UK pounds. From the experience of saving for previous trips he converted a small amount of money regularly. He did not significantly miss the amount and should be able to put aside a tidy little sum in the lead up time and he still had a reserve of notes and travellers cheques unused from previous trips.

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

### ILIGAN, WEST MINDANAO.

Small groups of active NPA members from various factions around the country began arriving into the jungles of the Cotabato area of Mindanao. Ostensibly, Warvic had organised them to gather for two months of local jungle training. After the first 900 had gathered together, they were taken to the port of Zamboanga in West Mindanao. There they were told their true destination. In Zamboanga they would link up with about 150 Muslims. Then, if Suraido Arompak and the Libyan attache had kept their promises, a large freighter arranged by the Libyans would take the trainees to camps in the deserts of Libya.

Warvic thought of her little army as flip-flop soldiers after the flip flop sound the rubber thongs made on the soles of their feet as they walked. They were being drafted from the jungles where they were sheltered and easily hidden, to be thrown into a wide open treeless desert. They would even have to abandon their flip-flop thongs for boots. Many would have never worn shoes of any description.

While they were still converging on the jungles of Cotabato she began planning how to obtain a large supply of newer personal weapons.

If weapons were gathered from off-base soldiers or police in a piecemeal way, the Armed Forces of the Philippines (AFP) or the police might change their system of operational readiness and secure all weapons on the base or station.

She needed a nation-wide action to take place on the same day. If it was kept within a very small time frame it would mean that the AFP's reaction and change in methods would be too late.

Thoughts of direct attacks on armouries were quickly dismissed as too risky. A high likelihood of casualties, and even worse, the probable capture and subsequent torture of some of her soldiers might reveal secrets.

A soldier in the AFP, or a policeman, was effectively on duty 24 hours a day. Their personal weapon was taken with them whenever they left their base. As most soldiers lived off base they were just like many businessmen taking a briefcase home. Instead of a briefcase full of work, they took home their personal weapons and loaded magazines.

Soldiering was not a highly respected profession among many sections of the community. Past atrocities by some sections within the AFP, the use of standover tactics employed by some officers against small business operators or farmers, had alienated the uniform. Individual assassinations of soldiers in public streets or on public transport were commonplace. Many were the result of a personal grudge; the family of the soldier's jilted lover, a revenge killing, or a disgruntled shop-owner tired of 'unofficial' taxes. The NPA were always blamed unless it happened in Western Mindanao. Then the Muslim groups were blamed.

Most assassinations were just a single shot through the head or chest of an unsuspecting soldier using the normal public transport travelling on a bus or public jeepney. Other passengers and witnesses always fled quickly from the bus, out of windows or doors, and evaporated from the scene. A fear of retaliation against them by the shooters kept people's mouths shut. Government interrogation could be even worse. The assassin's escape was therefore easy. Witnesses to identify the shooters were non-existent.

Outwardly it seemed that the soldiers were simply individual targets of opportunity. Perhaps shot by another passenger or by the pillion passenger on a passing motor cycle while the jeepney was stopped. Theft of the weapons from the scene, even by innocent bystanders, was normal. Weapons could be sold on the black market and that meant money to anyone with the presence of mind to pick up and flee with the dead or wounded soldier's weapon.

For the soldiers, taking the weapons home with them was supposed to give some personal protection as well as enabling them to be in a state of continual readiness against enemies of the state should a national emergency arise.

When small army convoys were attacked in the jungle areas, those attacks were organised by local NPA area commanders, not part of an organised national effort. A co-ordinated and simultaneous nation-wide attack on hundreds of individual soldiers would be unexpected.

Warvic had re-constructed many of the old contact lines and established many new ones. New codes and signals had been distributed. Many contacts had experience with the old-style small hit groups against individual soldiers. Those groups were publicly called 'Sparrows'. Now it was just a matter of getting them to act at the same time, yet each groups' preparation would be unknown to any other.

Each hit group was ordered to select individual soldiers and watch his personal schedule over a period of time. Then, knowing where the soldier was probably going to be at the date and time she selected; to carry out the assassination and confiscate the weapon.

The government would quickly realise that it had to be the NPA who was responsible. There was no other large group capable of co-ordinated activity nation wide. The government would also be confronted with the fact that the NPA had not been destroyed as they thought. To avoid any suggestion of co-operation between the Muslim and NPA groups, Warvic would exclude the Muslim areas of the south in the assassinations. That, thought Warvic, would confirm it was only the NPA responsible. It should also demonstrate that a new captain was at the helm of the NPA.

If the action succeeded she would refine it. Then, on the night before the takeover of the tourist resorts, she would organise some national action to distract the attention of the AFP. This weapons gathering action would be a dress rehearsal for the next national action.

The sudden of assassinations and weapons thefts would put the AFP on full alert for a considerable period of time, perhaps even months. It had to take place long before the resorts were taken over. The AFP would need time to settle into its more relaxed mode. An AFP on full alert might upset her plans.

Warvic needed time to gather the stolen weapons centrally before redistributing them to their final destinations. So she was happy to work on a wide time-scale for that.

She needed time to gather cash for working capital. That meant bank and armoured car raids and other fund raising methods. Though the NPA already had large sums of money in banks, it was possible, even probable, that account details were known by the government after the action at Mercedes. Anyone accessing them would likely be apprehended and compromise the re-emergence of the NPA.

# CHAPTER 6

## FINANCING & REHEARSAL

### ILIGAN, MINDANAO

Warvic felt relief when the first ship-load of her soldiers had sailed without incident. The extent of commitments made dawned on her. The forces released meant there was no turning back. If she cancelled now it was tantamount to her self destruction within the NPA She had made promises she had to keep. At least she had to keep those made to Filipinos anyway.

Warvic issued orders to 1600 experienced comrades remaining throughout the Philippines of suggestions about acquiring the small arms. Acting individually, in pairs, or groups, each had been ordered to target an arms-carrying soldier; then, between 7.30 a.m and 9.30 a.m on the morning of 17th November kill him and take his weapons and ammunition. The orders were clear. On no account was any killing to take place earlier than the day chosen or at any other time.

No Muslim areas in Mindanao were included, and as far as each of the operatives knew, theirs was the only operation. Only Warvic's staff knew the same operation was taking place nationwide. A breach of security by one operative would not reveal the nationwide extent of the operation until after it had happened.

A successful first operation meant she could formalise plans for a second operation that had been crystallising in her mind. Something to allow time for her soldiers at the resorts to get established without the Philippine military intervening; and more time to secure the hostages.

Sizeable funds still needed to be obtained. She had thought on that. The nice part was that some targets would not be able to report their loss.

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

### AUCKLAND, NEW ZEALAND

T.A. thought it wise to check the expiry date of his passport. He did not want any last minute problems.

In searching for it he found the unspent U.S. notes and unused travellers cheques. It was far more than he had realised. He felt guilty that he had not given the cash to Malou when he left the last time. Then he remembered why he did not.

When they parted, she donned a nonchalant air, not even bothering to kiss him goodbye. He remembered going through the Immigration door he turned to wave goodbye; she had already disappeared. The money was still in the same envelope he had prepared with the little love message inside. He had simply changed his mind at the last minute. Maybe her display had been because he had not given her enough. But he had not given her everything because of her display. Another circle, he thought.

The travel agent advised if he travelled sixteen days before Easter he would get a cheaper fare. So he booked to depart on March 15. A long time before Easter, returning on 10 May. Away for over 7 weeks, but what the hell, it was his holiday.

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

### PANGLAO ISLAND, near TAGBILARAN, BOHOL

The armoured car driver would not accept the bottle of beer he was offered at the Bohol Beach Club to celebrate his 40th birthday. This was the last pick-up in the twice weekly run. If he was seen drinking in public while on this serious business, he would lose his job. The cash collection was always from the same beach resorts on Panglao Island and delivered to the Philippines National Bank (PNB) in Clarin Street, Tagbilaran. The desk staff at Bohol Beach Club joked that even if he was drunk, the old armoured van had covered the same road so many times before it could drive itself.

A full crate of San Miguel beer was pulled out from under the counter and given as a gift. The other four van guards solemnly escorted him to the rear entry of the armoured car and he placed the crate in the back with the padlocked boxes from the other resorts.

Frivolities over, the guards took up their proper positions for the real escort duty, just as they had hundreds of times before. With the driver locked in and sitting at the wheel, one of the guards kept watch from inside the back of the sealed van. The co-driver stood in front of the resort entry carrying his shotgun across his arm in a state of posed readiness. The remaining two guards brought the sealed box out from the manager's office. Nobody ever knew how much they were carrying. All the boxes remained locked until they were opened at the Philippines National Bank. Even then they were never told how much money they had carried.

All seven resorts from which they had collected earlier had also given small birthday gifts. It made him feel important and appreciated. Everyone was in a birthday party mood as they began the return trip towards the bridge connecting Panglao Island to the bigger Bohol Island.

"Let the van drive itself," said his co-driver.

"I should," replied the driver. Even he felt his resolve against the temptations of the drink weakening.

"Yeah," shouted one of the guards in the back, who then passed an open bottle through the small window between the locked back area and the front.

"If you don't stop, then we'll drink the crate before you even get to the bridge."

The driver knew that they were serious. He would only be left with an empty crate and 12 empty bottles to cash in.

"Maybe we'll stop in the bush for a few minutes before we reach the bridge," suggested the driver.

The other guards cheered as he pulled into a heavily forested and seldom used track off the main dirt road. He drove in a further twenty metres before stopping.

"Party time," he called out.

The track was so narrow, the rain forest pushed into the van's sides, they could not get out of the side doors. It did not matter. The guards in the back opened the security screen into the front and began passing beer through. At least this way they were still following rules by not leaving the truck.

His co-passengers burst into a chorus of 'happy birthday' and began ribbing him about his age.

The co-driver reached under the seat and handed him a decoratively wrapped present. He put his bottle of San Miguel beer between his legs and eagerly tore off the wrapping to reveal a bottle of Chivas Regal whisky.

"Unbelievable, you beauts."

They all cheered.

"I can't take this home. All the neighbours will want some. No, I've got to drink it with my friends."

The group cheered again. He ripped off the cover around the top, pulled the cork out and took a long swig.

"Yeeow, that's got some bite," he said, handing the bottle to the co-driver. More cheers came from the back.

The co-driver took a long drink. "Ooh, just like mother's milk." He handed the bottle back through the screen.

It passed backward and forward over the next few minutes until the driver drained the last of its contents. He then finished the now warm beer he had kept between his legs. The sudden effect on his brain was more than he expected. He knew he had made a mistake, drinking so much so quickly. It would be difficult disguising his state when he arrived at the bank.

"Party's over," he called out, to the moans and jeers of the others.

Reversing out was more of a problem than getting in. He ran down several banana trees to get back to the road.

Three hundred metres back on the road he slowed for the first of two bends before the bridge. His eyes were affected by the alcohol. He kept raising his eyebrows and shaking his head to clear the affects. After turning the second corner, the van was back to normal speed when he saw an up-turned cart with its load spread on the road. Two carabao were loosely tied to the cart. It looked like a genuine accident but he had to be ready in case it was a ploy to make them stop and get out and help. He slowed; then stopped about fifty metres away. He could see someone appeared to be trapped under the trailer.

"Everyone get ready," he called out.

The screen between him and the back snapped shut.

He started to drive at a walking pace toward the overturned trailer and stopped again, twenty-five metres away.

Four armed men appeared from behind the trailer, pointing their guns at his van. The one under the trailer slid out and also produced a weapon. More masked men ran in from the side out of the close rain forest and jumped on the running board each side of the driver's cabin.

"Fuck you!" the driver screamed and accelerated toward the barrier.

The gunmen behind the upturned cart started shooting at the glass in his front. He heard the "tick, tick" as the bullets hit the screen. Instinctively, he ducked his head. The bullet proof screen did its job and held secure. The speed of the armoured car increased.

The shooters behind the cart realised he was not going to stop and dived off the road. The one who had been under the cart did not move quickly enough. His face was directly in front of the driver when the armoured van hit the cart. The impact crushed the lower half of his body. Blood erupted out of his mouth like a burst water bladder covering part of the screen.

The driver felt the van slow almost to a stop, held up by the heavy cart. He kept his foot hard on the accelerator. The two tethered carabao panicked and were trying to pull away from the crash. With the combined push of his van and the efforts of the carabao pulling, the overturned cart began sliding out of the way.

Bullets kept a constant "tick, tick" into the screen and body of the van. His men were firing back through their gun slots. The cart turned over and the roadway was clear. The body on the front screen fell away as he accelerated along the dusty road. Gunfire from the guards in the back continued until he got to the next bend in the road. They were free.

A relieved cheer went up from the guards. It was the first time anyone had attempted to rob him and he had come through it successfully. He wondered if he would have done it differently if he had been sober.

The leader of the small group of NPA looked at the devastation in front of him. The mangled body of his cousin was being kicked by the reflexes of a dying carabao hit in the exchange of fire. He looked down the road and saw that three other members of his little group had also been hit.

"This was supposed to be easy," he said, as he slowly dropped to the ground, noticing the blood seeping from his arm and realised he too had been hit.

He wondered how he would explain why he failed to get the money he had been ordered to get. Worse still, he did not know where he could get help for the wounded.

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

The Senator felt everything was well prepared for the joint family dinner. His cousin was the Provincial Governor They had been alternating a monthly formal family dinner between their homes ever since they were both elected eight years ago. His wife was a school-friend of the Governor's wife. The nine children they had between them were all firm friends.

Getting together this time they were going to include some business with pleasure. Elections for all officials throughout the Philippines were in another eight months. They assisted each other where operations overlapped. Since the last election the amount of funds they had managed to siphon off for their personal benefit had been reduced. The Government had introduced more efficient accounting requirements before the distribution of funds for Government projects. This meant they had to make more pay-offs than had previously been required.

Being a Senator or Governor generally meant numerous opportunities were available to amass many fortunes from Government grants.

It was usual practice to pay electors or 'vote buy' as it was more commonly called. That had to be done to match or better the opposition payments. At the previous election about half of the voters were paid an average of 200 pesos each, then worth about US$4.00, by both the Senator and the Governor. In an electorate of nearly 200,000 voters, paying half of them meant a total expenditure of about sixteen million pesos. With other payments it had cost them about US$250,000.00 each. This amount was soon recovered from siphoned off funds for Government grants for the area.

Because of the belt-tightening forced by recession and more efficient government auditing, the two had decided to reduce their payments at the next election. Where they arranged for supporters to pay swinging voters, 400 pesos were often allotted. As those distributing the funds all the way down the line also took their cut, they both knew that the end voters probably only received 100-150 pesos.

Both the Senator and Governor kept large cash sums hidden away in their houses as cash amounts were sometimes quickly needed to buy the favour of an official before the granting of Government projects for the area. These funds were not in their official office safes, even politicians houses could be raided by Government Audit officials. Large sums of unexplainable cash would be incriminating.

The Senator walked out of the lounge through the French doors onto the verandah at the front of the house. An eight foot high concrete block security fence topped with razor wire surrounded the property, only broken by a high iron gate at the main entry sixty metres in front of the porch. He heard the car horn at the gate signifying the guests had arrived. Two security guards pulled back the locked gates allowing three cars to pass. Normally the Governor's party came in two cars. The Senator noticed all three cars were full. Possibly the Governor had decided to bring more maids and security guards than usual. He leaned back through the French doors.

"They're here," he called out. In response to his statement happy squeals of delight emanated from his five children as they ran past him onto the porch, all dressed in their best clothes. The three pre-teen daughters and two sons stood watching as the cars' tyres crunched the gravel at the entrance. His wife now stood beside him.

"Extras?" she asked.

"Probably extra maids to help ours."

"I wish they wouldn't try to impress us like this," she replied.

The Senator's servants stepped forward to open the doors of the central car immediately it had come to a halt. The doors of the cars in front and behind opened first and several armed masked men got out and walked quickly but deliberately towards the porch.

His children had not seen the masked men and ran down the steps to the central car to greet their friends. His servants noticed something wrong with the occupants inside the central car and stopped; then looked back at the Senator. By the time the central car's doors had opened the masked men from the other two cars were standing beside the Senator and his wife. They both tensed but knew it would be stupid to resist or over-react. When the children got to the central car, they screamed, ran back onto the porch and into the house unhindered by the gunmen that they ran past.

His wife moved behind him clutching his arms with fear. Despite her grip, he was surprised at her otherwise relatively controlled reaction.

A masked gunman from the central car walked up the steps and stopped in front of him. He looked directly into the Senator's eyes without saying anything. It seemed like minutes before he spoke but was obviously only seconds.

"I'm pleased you didn't try any heroics," said the gunman. "It would have been stupid to risk the lives of the children."

He looked past the gunman. The Governor and his wife were being helped, almost courteously, out of the car. Their mouths covered with tape and their hands bound. The Governor's children were helped out of the other cars, similarly bound. All the children had looks of fear and tears in their eyes.

"What do you want?" The Senator was surprised that his voice did not reflect the fear he felt.

"First get your wife to gather the children and the staff so we can have everyone together," the gunman replied.

The Senator looked up to see an armed man escorting his two gate security men toward the house. His wife's fingers still held a strong grip on his barong. He had to forcibly loosen the grip finger by finger. When he turned full on to face her, he placed his hands gently on her shoulders and nodded at her.

Her eyes reflected her fear. He wondered if his were the same. She walked quickly inside the front door and began calling out the children's names.

Another gunman escorted the Senator's intended guests through the front door. As the Governor passed him he saw the bruising on the side of the Governor's face and the small trail of dried blood running from his nose. The Governor's normal proud walk and glaring eyes had been transposed into the hunch of an old man and the far away look of a drug addict.

As the Senator went to follow the others inside the gunman stopped him.

"You are a bonus, Senator," said the gunman. "We'd only intended to rob the Governor. He foolishly threatened that if he was late arriving at your place you would know something was wrong and call in the troops. A hollow threat eh?"

"What do you want from us?" the Senator asked again.

"Your money you stupid bastard!"

Two gunmen emerged from the house, one carrying his now gagged and bound nine year old daughter. He held the terrified girl in front of him. The leader of the group pressed a pistol to the Senator's testicles and nodded to the gunman holding the girl. He forced the girl's hands out in front of her.

"No heroics, Senator," went on the gunman. "We only want your money."

The second gunman pulled a long knife from his belt and grabbed the girl's hand.

The Senator made an involuntary move toward his daughter. The second gunman immediately slashed the knife in his direction and he jumped back.

"I said no heroics Senator. Nobody will get hurt if you'll just be sensible," said the leader. "But if you don't give us immediate access to both your safes then my friend will cut one of your daughter's fingers off for every minute you delay."

The Senator thought of his daughter's proud achievements on the piano and pictured her trying to play with fingers missing.

"Yes, yes. Just don't hurt anyone," he replied.

"After you Senator."

The gunman followed him through the front doorway, past all of the now bound and gagged family and staff seated on the floor, and into his office. He opened the office safe and stood back watching the leader. Another gunmen watched him while the leader emptied the piles of notes and some jewellery into a pillow case.

When everything had been removed the leader stood back and looked at the Senator.

"That's all there is," said the Senator.

"You're lying."

"I'm not. You've got everything."

The leader walked to the office window facing onto the front terrace and smashed it. Leaning through the gaping hole he yelled to the gunman still holding the young girl on the porch.

"One finger off."

"No," screamed the Senator, "I'll get the rest." He ran toward the leader who immediately pointed the pistol at the Senator's forehead.

The Senator stopped his forward rush.

"Hold off on the finger," the leader called through the smashed window. "Now, lead on Senator."

Two gunmen followed him, past the wide-eyed faces of the guarded bound and gagged hostages, upstairs to the main bedroom.

He pushed aside the dressing table covering the second safe and opened it to reveal a much larger pile of notes and considerably more jewellery than had been in the first safe. He heard the leader whistle in surprise when he saw the amount of money inside. Tossing aside business papers, everything else valuable was removed in less than a minute, including a couple of gold bars which the leader inspected. He put one in his left pocket and the other in his right pocket. His pants slipped down to the floor which brought a stifled giggle from the second gunman as the leader was not wearing underwear. Holding his pistol in his right hand, he struggled to lift his pants. Abandoning caution, he put the pistol on the floor, removed the gold bars from the pockets and pulled up his pants. He put the bars in the now much heavier pillow case.

"Now Senator, we'll tie you up. After we've gone you can get free and have your party."

While the leader held a gun at the ready, the other gunman taped the Senator's hands and feet, then pushed him onto the bed. The leader pocket the pistol, pulled out the two gold bars again for inspection, and whistled quietly. He nodded to his accomplice to pick up the pillow case. Carrying one bar in each hand the leader left the room without a backward glance.

A few minutes later he heard two of the cars start, then the crunching of gravel under the tyres as they moved away.

While the Senator struggled to free himself, he realised that he could not report the true extent of the robbery. Most was from funds that could not be passed off from legitimate sources. It included a large amount that he had been intending to transfer overseas from the profit on the disaster food relief fund pocketed nearly two years ago. The local press were currently running a story that had appeared in the Japanese press about illegal profits on food aid. He would not be reporting his total loss.

There were over 20 million pesos in his secret safe, plus the gold. He could only report losing about 100,000 pesos. The real figure, including the gold and the American dollars, would be around 50 million pesos, about US$1,500,000.00 when converted to hard U.S. currency. There was nothing he could do about it.

He wondered how much they had got from his cousin the Governor.

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

### ILIGAN, MINDANAO, One week later.

The funds raised from bank, armoured car raids and other methods were far better than Warvic had dreamed. She appreciated some of the devious methods some groups had used.

While the full detail about the funds raised was still coming in, Warvic had been despatching information for overseas press releases. The story first released to the Japanese press had only begun to figure in the local papers in the past two weeks. Its effect on confidence in the Government was too early yet to be estimated. Some politicians had already printed rebuttals for political damage control.

Warvic was more intent on planning the first ever coordinated national action by the NPA. She had picked a date, November 17, but had to ensure all individuals and groups got their instructions. Secrecy was an important key. Not only secrecy from the authorities but also from other members of the NPA

It would take a while for the instructions to be delivered to each participant. Hand delivery and face-to-face contact by her staff to the leaders of those involved in the November 17 action would reinforce the importance of the date and time of the action.

Once the messengers had been despatched, she was alone again. She felt the same eager excitement she had previously felt watching her younger siblings open presents at Christmas. She hoped her Christmas was November 17.

# CHAPTER 7

## COLLECTION DAY

### CALOOCAN, METRO MANILA, 7.30A.M., 17 November

Private Bonifacio was pleased to see the same pretty girl at the same public jeepney stop. She had been here each of the last 10 days when he caught a jeepney to the Rizal Extension. From there he caught a bus to the army base. Sometimes she had been there before him, almost as though she was waiting for him to arrive. Then she would get on one of the many passing jeepneys. He wondered where she went to.

It was about the same time again, around 7:30 a.m. Sometimes she had been there with a man he thought might be her brother. She was not wearing a wedding ring, but that meant nothing. There was no obvious affection between her and the man, who was with her again today. The private decided that the next time he saw her, when she was without her escort he would try to open a conversation. She seemed to be shy. Perhaps his carrying of the M16 made him seem threatening. He wondered how he could allay her fears.

While they waited for a jeepney to stop he saw her look at him and he responded with a smile. She nodded her head to acknowledge the smile. He looked at the accompanying male in case he had given offence, but he too just nodded and smiled back at him. That seemed hopeful. He moved closer to them.

"You have a big gun," she said to him grinning.

Her comment surprised him. Perhaps she had not realised the ambiguity of her statement.

"Oh; not really. It's just an M16, not loaded of course" he responded. "The filled magazines are on my belt."

She looked at the M16 showing some genuine interest in it. 'Oh my god she's beautiful,' he thought.

"Here," he said. "Try it, it's not heavy."

He passed the M16 to her willingly, knowing he was breaching dozens of army regulations.

"Thanks," she replied and held it comfortably across her chest while looking at it.

Private Bonifacio looked at her with a smile on his face. His mind was racing with thoughts of what he would like to do with her if he could ever get her alone.

When she expertly removed the empty magazine from the slot, examined it, and just as expertly reinserted it, he stopped smiling. He realised she was no stranger to weapons. He was distracted a split second at the sounds around him. He turned to see the others that had been waiting at the same stop had suddenly begun running away. Perhaps they were running in fear at the girl holding the weapon. He looked back at the girl, then at the man with her. He had not run like the others. Then he felt his lower jaw drop. The girl's companion was pointing a pistol directly at his forehead. He heard himself scream "No!" Had he really gone that far beyond the bounds of familiarity with the girl?

The scream stopped with the single shot.

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

### SAN MIGUEL, METRO MANILA, 7.30 A.M.

The jeepney slowed, then, stopped in the stream of traffic backed up on Magsaysay Avenue. Another jeepney nosed in front to take advantage of the pause to be ready to jump into the stream of traffic when it began to move. A motor cycle rider with a pillion passenger pulled up level with his jeepney. The pillion passenger was directly behind the seated soldier who was unaware that the motor cycle riders were only inches away. The soldier felt something hard pushed into the back of his head and he began to turn. The sound was little different to any of the backfires of rough running jeepney motors.

The soldier's co-passengers directly opposite were suddenly covered in blood and pieces of skull. Women began screaming in panic when the pillion passenger leaned into the jeepney and grabbed the M16 from between the dead soldier's knees. The rest of the soldier's body fell sideways on to the lap of the hysterical woman on his left.

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

### TAGBILARAN CITY, BOHOL, 7.30 A.M.

The corporal saw the motorised tricycle approaching and waved for it to stop. This one would do, it was the first one he had seen with vacant seats. It stopped as he requested, bouncing as it hit a hole in the road. He put his M16 in the sidecar first then raised his leg to step in. He saw a bright flash and felt an enormous pain in his chest at the same time.

Although he knew he was lying on the ground and badly wounded, he could still hear noise. The sky above him was bright blue. Somewhere nearby he could hear a motor cycle rev its motor and pull away.

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

### MACTAN ISLAND, CEBU AIRPORT, 7.30 A.M.

The four soldiers felt that starting their daily guard duties at the airport terminal this early was stupid. The first domestic flights were not due for two hours. They only obeyed orders, not gave them. There had not been any military trouble at the airport for years. Other soldiers rostered for helicopter guard duty did not have to report before 9:00 a.m. Their guarding really meant just lazing around, sitting out of the sun, or anywhere they could catch a breeze. The only benefit of the airport terminal duty was being able to ogle at the airport girls.

The taxi had dropped them in front of the small guard hut, next to the airport terminal, where they started their day. As they approached the door, four masked figures rushed out. None of the four soldiers had time to react before they were aware of the presence of more figures behind them. Some screamed as knives were driven into their backs by the figures behind them then into their stomachs by those in front. As their bodies sagged and collapsed to the ground, the M16's they were carrying were torn from their grasps.

The assailants rolled over the dead and dying soldiers, quickly emptied the pockets of money and spare M16 magazines and ran off.

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

For two hours, throughout the Philippines, soldiers and policemen on their way to bases and places of assignment were being murdered. Each attack was without warning and certainly without mercy.

Some of Warvic's experienced hit squads managed three separate group assassinations in the two-hour period. One group collected ten M16's and two pistols. All action against the soldiers stopped exactly at 9:30 a.m. as Warvic had ordered.

By midday the extent of the action within Manila had been realised. News of the murders began to be broadcast on Manila radio and T.V. Stations interrupted scheduled programs to announce what they thought was happening without really knowing anything. Each Manila radio gave an updated newsflash of the latest reported figures. In Manila the figures quickly grew to over 100 soldiers killed. As the afternoon wore on, reports of similar killings outside Metro Manila were being reported. It was soon apparent it was nation-wide.

All leave was immediately cancelled and all Armed Services personnel were recalled to base. The Navy and Air Force readied all ships and aircraft for dispersal and action.

Government representatives made sure their personal body guards were in a full state of readiness. Army units were called in to protect buildings where politicians were sheltering.

Politicians began debating the identity of those responsible. The only possible conclusion was that the NPA was responsible. Yet they had been thought eliminated, at least for a while. There had not been enough time for them to reorganise and mount an operation of this scale. The tactics employed were not usually those of the NPA. Until further information was known it was decided to declare a State of Emergency and impose a curfew. Martial law was considered fleetingly but quickly discarded because of the memories of the Marcos regime.

All flights, international and domestic, would be suspended for a short time in case there were any attempts to bomb airports or planes.

As the casualty figures came into the President's office, the advisors realised the true figures could not be released. If the public learned that nearly 1400 soldiers and police had been casualties in a two hour period the President would have to resign. Official casualty figures of 350, including 170 killed, were released to the press.

The President was truly saddened at such a loss of good youth. Military officials were extremely concerned that the weapons of all the slain soldiers were taken. They worried over the reason behind this type of action. It appeared someone was preparing to mount a well-armed major offensive. But this action was itself a major offensive. How had they re-organised so quickly? It was the greatest single day loss of life ever suffered by the AFP.

The military knew the nation was going to be locked up in a very strict curfew under the state of emergency. The extra powers given to the AFP and the constabulary should, with luck, uncover the identity of the organising group.

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

### ILIGAN, WEST MINDANAO

Warvic first heard the news broadcast late in the afternoon. She knew the Government would considerably understate the losses. By how much she would not know until she received her own reports. She knew there would be failures, but if she accepted the government casualty figures then the mission fail rate was about 75%. That was highly unlikely. She expected a haul of at least a 1,000 weapons from this operation

After the large windfalls from the earlier actions to gather cash for working funds, she could not imagine this better organised follow-up action having a 75% failure rate. When later reports came in, the casualty figures grew then stopped at the ceiling of 345 killed. No figures for the wounded. Her reports trickling in showed more like 90% success. The number and type of weapons taken would have to wait until details from her contacts were received.

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

### AUCKLAND, NEW ZEALAND

The evening T.V. movie was "The Killing Fields". T.A. had seen it before but enjoyed it again. After it, the 10:30 p.m. headline news started.

"News this evening just in from our Philippine news-room in Manila. A series of nationwide attacks occurred earlier today against members of the Armed Forces of the Philippines. Flights in and out of the Philippines have been temporarily suspended. A state of emergency has been declared. Travellers intending to depart for the Philippines in the next few days should contact their travel agent or the airline on which they are flying."

"Shit," said T.A. aloud. He thought about the announcement for a few minutes. His departure was still four months away. By then things should have returned to normal. Over the next few weeks he would ask opinions of the supposed Asian specialists in the Research Department. He would ring the travel agent too.

# CHAPTER 8

## REUNION

### MARCH, AUCKLAND, NEW ZEALAND

T.A. regularly telephoned his travel agent for updates on the political situation in the Philippines. She gave the information that Malou's letters always failed to give.

Although the state of emergency had been lifted just before Christmas, the AFP remained on alert over the Christian festive season. No further disturbances happened. By the end of January, all military bases and stations had returned to normal; though all commanders were more wary after the "Hour of the Assassins" as the two hour slaughter had become known.

T.A. was not afraid or in fear of his life in the Philippines. He just did not want his travel plans upset by a sudden change in the political situation.

Malou was angry about him flying into Manila instead of Cebu. She accused him of meeting another woman. T.A.strenuously denied it. He really hoped he would meet several women, all from the girlie bars. With those he would have no emotional ties.

Malou demanded he fly from Manila, direct to Cebu the same day. T.A. replied he had to stay in Manila to make final arrangements about the house they were using in Apuao Grande.

He knew she suspected his motives. She was being possessive. That was her way. She knew he was lying, but he wanted to make the most of, possibly his last bachelor opportunity. He did feel guilty but the prospect of pleasure he could get before seeing Malou would go a long way toward relieving any guilt he might feel.

T.A.'s list of what to take, and had to do, had been prepared for weeks and taped inside his wardrobe door as a daily reminder. Many things had already been crossed off and it was now at the packing stage. He finished work at lunch time to get an early start. Once the first lot of clothing went into his bag he felt the excitement building. Within 18 hours he would be on the plane and on his way.

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

FIJI, South Pacific.

Because the timetable set by the Libyans was critical, Captain Con Theodopolous knew he could not afford engine problems and delays aboard the freighter. He arranged his sailing schedule to allow a few spare days in Fiji to undertake engine and maintenance tasks before loading a legitimate cargo of sugar into the upper holds. Except the ever present Libyans, the remainder of the crew were relatives or from his home village. Only he and his cousin the chief engineer and some wipers and greasers remained on board. The rest of the crew spent time ashore.

The tensions between his crew and the ever-present Libyans grew with each trip. But the Libyans were paying highly. If he had not had this timetable, he would not have undertaken this costly maintenance. All the crew knew this was to be the last trip before his freighter suffered the inevitable shift of cargo and subsequent sinking to maximise their insurance claim. The freighter had served his island family well. Over these recent trips he had come to love the Filipinos as 'tween deck passengers' and hate the demanding Libyans at his back.

Half the contract proceeds from the Libyans for this last run had been paid. For the captain, his freighter had already earned enough. His tolerance of the Libyans had suffered enough. His chief engineer did not question him when he insisted the surrounds and the water-tight doors aft, under the mast house and up through the focsle be strengthened.

Nor did he question his decision to double the number of topside locking cleats on these same water tight doors which gave the only topside access from below decks.

Neither did the Libyans.

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

### BENIGNO AQUINO INTERNATIONAL AIRPORT, MANILA

T.A. was accustomed to the Customs and Immigration arrival procedures as he had passed through several times before. At Immigration he was questioned about his 90 day business visa instead of the usual 21 day tourist visa. He was not dressed like a businessman. He explained he was having a holiday before starting business with the Government Commission on Audit. The mention of the word "audit" seemed to have him sped quickly through the rest of the usual formalities.

Once into the public area the usual sea of faces were there; kept back from the passenger exit area by fences. It amazed T.A. why there were always so many people waiting. They could not all be here to greet arriving friends. Perhaps it was just a cheap entertainment.

He put down his bags and looked for a placard carrying the name of the hotel where he was staying. He soon saw it and dragged his bags to the man holding the sign.

"I'm booked at your hotel, I'd like to take the hotel bus," said T.A.

"Yes sir. I'll get someone to help with the bags."

"I'll help too," said a female voice behind the hotel agent.

T.A. looked in surprise as Malou stepped out from behind the agent.

"Is this your wife sir? She asked if she could wait with me until you arrived."

T.A. stumbled out some words without knowing what he said. He only knew he felt pleased, astonished and annoyed at the same time.

Malou looked down at the ground embarrassed.

"God, it's good to see you," said T.A.

"You don't really mean that," she responded pursing her lips and starting to cry.

"I do, I do," said T.A., not sure if he was lying or not.

He put his arms around her and cuddled her. Dozens of nearby placard holders cheered. T.A. soon got over the surprise of seeing her earlier than expected, and realised he genuinely was pleased to see her.

They rode on the hotel bus together while she explained that she was staying with her cousin in Manila while waiting for him. She had been worried about coming to the airport in case he rejected her. T.A. kept smiling as he looked at her. She was talking more than she had ever done before. It was a nervous reaction.

When she felt confident enough, she showed him the overnight bag she had prepared for herself. She said it was only packed in case he wanted her to be with him. Without waiting for a reply she continued that they could collect the rest of her clothes from her cousins tomorrow.

T.A. knew he had no choice even if he wanted there to be one. He was happy with the way things turned out.

After fulfilling all the hotel check-in requirements they reached their air-con room. It was good to be in the coolness after the outdoor heat. Malou sat on the bed as he opened his bags. She pretended to be disinterested but was watching closely for an un-requested but expected gift.

Pulling a big soft cuddly koala out of his bag he casually tossed it at her. She caught it and looked at T.A. with a feigned surprised look.

"Who's this for?" she asked.

"You, dummy."

Again she pouted her lips.

"I'm not a dummy," she replied.

Her attention was now distracted back to the koala which she cuddled to her as a mother cuddles a baby.

"I'm going to call it Yam," she said.

"Why Yam?" he asked.

"You and me."

T.A. sat down next to her on the bed. He took her hand, opened it and put a small box in her little palm.

Her eyes opened wide in surprise.

"For me?" she squealed.

"Of course it's for you."

She quickly gave him the Yam koala and excitedly ripped off the colourful wrapping to reveal a deep velvet coloured ring box. When she got that far she stopped and looked at T.A., gave him a quick kiss on the cheek and opened the box.

"Oh, it's beautiful," she said. This time it was with a genuine surprise in her voice. She pulled out the sapphire and diamond ring to look at it more closely.

"I hope the ring size is fairly close." T.A. apologised in advance. "I just had to take a wild guess."

Malou automatically selected the third finger of her left hand and slipped it on; then, holding her hand up as far from her face as possible, looked at it long and hard. T.A. could see that she was genuinely pleased.

After picking up Malou's clothes from her cousin's house, they spent the next few days and nights in Manila, sleeping, eating, making love, sight-seeing during the day and visiting the karaoke and girlie bars at night. T.A. felt content. He was not disappointed at missing out on his few days of freedom.

# CHAPTER 9

## THE BUS TO DAET

### MANILA,

The hotel clerk's eyes searched the lobby for T.A. and Malou. Eventually he spotted them seated, their backs to him, watching through the large windows at people walking past the hotel on Mabini Street. The clerk made his way past a large group of newly arrived patrons checking in at the reception desk. From the flags attached to many of the bags and the conversations in different languages, the clerk knew they were from many different countries. On reaching T.A. and Malou's front, he crouched so they did not have to look up.

"It might be a good idea to get to the bus departure area just in case they decide to leave early," he suggested.

"O.K., thanks," replied T.A. He grinned at the thought of any Filipino transport or individual leaving on time let alone arriving early.

"If your bags are ready I'll arrange for the boy to get a taxi and instruct the driver where to go."

"Yes, thanks," replied T.A. "Those two black tube bags are ours. Also this small carry bag, but I'll look after it myself."

Getting to the bus in the air-conditioned taxi cab should only take ten minutes. From experience, T.A. wound up the windows and locked the doors as soon as they were inside the cab. He knew 'Americano' tourists in cabs were frequent targets for beggars, cripples and bag snatchers.

While stopped at one of the many sets of lights on the way, T.A. watched a crippled child beggar go into his routine. About nine years old, he was sitting on his buttocks well into the path of oncoming traffic on Roxas Boulevard. His seemingly crippled and useless right leg was cast at an impossible angle. He shuffled on his bottom towards another cab held up by the red light and carrying a tourist. Then grabbing the door handle without managing to open the door, he pulled himself up the side of the taxi and began his routine. With sad tear-stained eyes and a dirty face, he stared directly at the passenger in the back seat. Then rubbing his bared stomach with his free hand he put empty fingers up to his mouth. It did not bring any favourable reward or response. Unsuccessful, he let his body slump to the ground.

He must have decided he was not in the best or luckiest location for much reward. He dragged his leg back to a normal position, sprang to his feet and sprinted as quickly as any able-bodied nine year old to a new position on the opposite side of the road. Quickly he slumped down, pushed his leg out again, and waited for the next red light to stop the traffic.

T.A. had become accustomed to this, but the skills these children showed still made him a smile. He too had been an easy mark, but only the first three or four times; maybe it was five or six as he was still an easy mark.

Once at the bus depot, the seemingly mandatory argument over the cab driver demanding more than the pre-agreed fare price and show of the meter took place before it was amicably settled, as originally agreed. They had to remove their own bags from the taxi cab boot. At the rear of the bus a woman in a smart light blue uniform was bossily giving orders.

She exhibited a supercilious manner while she checked the tickets and baggage outside the bus. It was far from the usual casual Filipino manner. The bus motor hummed reassuringly. T.A. hoped the other mechanical parts, especially the brakes, were as well prepared.

He looked at the dozens of people standing around waiting like spectators at a fire. Several were obviously passengers; others were just 'stand-bys'. Not stand-by passengers like on an airline, but onlookers. He felt uncomfortable at the idea of passengers' baggage being left haphazardly strewn around the footpath for any opportunistic thief. While keeping a wary eye on their baggage he watched the passengers verifying their tickets with the power-proud woman. They were a wide mix of ages and races. He could not tell the difference in the European races unless he could hear their voices above all the surrounding Ermita traffic noises.

There were some English and American accents as well as some possible Australian or New Zealand accents. A couple of fit looking Arab guys were wearing tight T-shirts showing off their physique. Other voices were too faint to get a clue. A fair sprinkling of Filipinos waited to board. He wondered if any were going to their destination, Apuao Grande.

The surrounding noise was a mix of horns tooting, ineffective vehicle mufflers, jeepneys proudly blasting a loud cacophony of the music from a dozen different radio stations. He had become accustomed to the noise level, but did not think that he could ever live in this vehicle generated air and noise pollution.

"You may now enter the bus," she said condescendingly to T.A. when she passed where he and Malou were standing.

"I'd rather wait until I see the baggage is loaded first," responded T.A.

"The baggage is now our concern, sir."

Sarcastically T.A. responded "Well, in that case you wouldn't mind giving me a receipt for the bags and all the contents just in case they go missing would you?"

"I just thought you'd be more comfortable in the bus out of the heat, sir."

"Never mind, I'll wait until the baggage is loaded, thanks."

She nodded to someone behind T.A. and he turned to see a sudden flurry of activity as the bags were loaded into the open side-doors beneath the bus.

"As you can see the bags are loaded and the bus is cooler."

T.A. knew she was right. The truth of her statement was obvious from the continuous sweat dripping from his forehead. No amount of wiping ever removed the sweat from his brow for more than a few seconds.

Around 5.30 p.m., the sun was making its same timely departure for the day. Despite the time, the heat was still oppressive. He ushered Malou up the bus steps. Toting the carry bag, he followed her to their seats which she found midway down the bus. The sudden coolness of the bus air-conditioning made him shiver. He felt progressively colder as his sweat laden clothing cooled to the bus temperature.

The intended 5.30.P.M. departure eventually drifted past 6.00.P.M. Minutes later, the driver, one of three Filipinos who had been in and out of the driver's seat in the preceding 30 minutes, adjusted the seat yet again. Then standing on the seat switched on a small T.V. above his head and started to adjust the controls. No matter how much he tried, the picture kept fading in and out. It worried T.A. that the driver might watch the T.V. while driving the bus.

About 6.30.P.M. the bus finally moved off, much as he expected of "Filipino time". It meant now that arrival at the depot in Daet would now probably be an hour later at 3.00A.M., or was it 4.00A.M.? It did not matter. He hoped the arrangements for meeting them would still stand.

After the bus passed through the red light district of Ermita, he lost track of where it went. He tried, and then gave up watching the T.V. There was more snow than picture and more static than voice. T.A. looked at the passengers across the aisle; they were Filipino. The voices immediately in front seemed to be English. He had not heard any sound from the people behind him. He had only noticed it was a European looking couple.

The air-con knob above his head was only slightly directional and no way for it to be closed or switched off. The excessively cold air stream was making him shiver. Malou, oblivious to the cold, was already asleep. She had leaned on his shoulder and dozed immediately they sat down and slept for the full hour before the bus moved off. He did not want to move excessively, not wanting her to wake; she might start complaining about the cold. T.A. hoped their first stop would be soon. Because he was cold, sleep evaded him, so he wanted to retrieve something warm from the baggage compartment.

After three hours they exited the city suburbs and the last motorway had ended. It was now down to a two lane road with no dividing strip.

Though sleep deprived he could not draw his eyes away from the front and then the right side windows. The T.V. had only shown snow for the last two hours. In the Philippines they drove on the right side of the road, not on the left as at home. That was disconcerting. On these narrow roads it seemed dangerous driving at the speed the bus was going. It was frightening watching the faint underpowered jeepney and truck headlights coming toward their bus.

The road was officially two-way, but its width seemed to be only about one and three-quarter vehicles wide. Too narrow for vehicles to pass without each having one set of wheels on the rough verge. There was so much traffic that the right hand wheels of the bus seemed continually on the rough unsealed verge. The extra wear and tear on the right hand tyres was inviting a blow out. At the very least it seemed they would run over some of the rural pedestrians who used the verges as footpaths.

He felt his worrying as a passenger was the spiritual thing preventing any accidents.

In addition, the too frequent checking of the time on his watch was warping the normal speed of time. His actions were slowing down time. There was never more than five minutes between one glance and the next, even though he was sure that at least fifteen minutes should have passed.

After three more harrowing hours according to his watch, but seven hours of shivering according to his mind, the bus suddenly swung from the right hand side of the road to the left between two oncoming jeepneys. It narrowly missed some lethargic pedestrians, who quickly became animated to avoid being hit. The bus pulled to a gradual stop outside a small roadside cafe.

Most of the sleeping Filipino and Filipina passengers did not stir. The driver stood out of his seat and cast a glance over his sleeping flock. Satisfied, he opened the front doors and stepped out. Many of the non-Filipino passengers followed.

T.A. gently eased his shoulder from under Malou's head without waking her. Stepping over her feet he made his way to the door. Heat hit his face as he exited but the immediate warming in his body was as welcome as a powerful three bar heater in a snow storm. It felt good.

Within minutes the sweat began pouring off his forehead and mugginess overtook the chill factor of his body. Despite this re-warming he was not going to miss the opportunity to get into his bag for some warmer clothes. T.A. located the driver who had already begun eating a container of rice and something else he did not recognise.

"Can I get into the baggage compartment to get some other clothes please?"

"Sure," replied the driver.

He tossed the keys at a man sitting opposite him, and muttered something in their common language. T.A. accompanied the willing key carrier to the baggage compartments of the bus. Immediately the side door was opened he saw the tube-bag he wanted was behind all the others. His smaller tube-bag was at the front and contained his large beach towel; that would do as a blanket. As he reached for his bag a woman's arm reached past him to get a small bag beside his. It was the woman sitting directly behind him on the bus. He stood back to let her get her bag, then quickly extracted the towel from his bag.

His co-passenger was holding a packet of cigarettes in one hand and obviously searching for a lighter with the other. T.A. too felt like a cigarette. He draped the towel over his shoulder and pulled out his cigarettes from his pocket. They were damp from his sweat. He turned to the still searching co-passenger and offered her a light.

"Danka."

"From Germany?"

"Ja."

"Going to Apuao Grande?"

"Sorry, English is not good."

"No, I am sorry. I wished I could speak other languages. T.A. remembered he had two lighters in his pocket. He showed the co-passenger he had two and offered her one.

"Here, you have one. My name is T.A."

She smiled as she accepted the lighter. Her age was difficult to judge, anywhere between 30 and 40.

"Danka. My name is Heidi. Excuse please, I getting a coffee."

Her hair was mousy coloured and thin in the straw-like style of the tennis professional Martina Navratilova. Her face too was thin and drawn with a trace of dark circles under her eyes as if she had not had much sleep in recent days. About 1.55 metres tall, she had a slim but well muscled body as though she was conscious of fitness. She was not ugly, more plain than ugly. He realised he too probably looked neither handsome nor smelt that nice either after the uncomfortable time on the bus. At least her smile was nice, even if it seemed to lack genuineness.

T.A. wandered around, including making a brief entry into the roadside cafe to see what it contained. The food looked unappealing even though it smelled nice. He did not want to risk the coffee on offer. He had ample packets of juice in the carry bag on the bus.

He sensed the eyes of the co-smoker were following him around. Yet, every time he looked in her direction her eyes averted elsewhere. Noticing the sign pointing to the toilets, he decided to take advantage of the facility to relieve the pressure of his bladder.

As he approached the toilet he could hear two men arguing inside in semi-hushed tones. He could not understand what they were saying. When he entered the toilet he saw it was the two Arab looking co-passengers from the bus. Their disagreement stopped immediately they saw him and they rapidly left the toilet block not looking at him as they left. He looked over the shoulder high toilet wall at the two Arabs walking back toward the bus. The German woman looked disparagingly at them as they passed her.

T.A. was last back on the bus. The driver nodded at him as he climbed the steps and shut the door immediately he reached the top step. The bus jerked forward and began accelerating away before he had begun negotiating the narrow aisle. It was going to be difficult trying to sneak back into his seat without disturbing Malou. He leaned on the back of the seat to steady himself and climb over Malou's feet. The couple seated behind him were watching. This time they both gave an acknowledging nod. He responded with a smile and nod. As he sat down he thought what an odd couple they made. The man seemed much too young and good looking to be with her. With strong Aryan features he looked at least 5 years younger than her and had a good build. T.A. realised he did not have any right to judge partners for other people. She must have good points. It's just that they were not obvious to T.A.

He settled and covered his legs with the thick towel. Its warmth and his tiredness overtook him. He hoped the bus driver remembered to wake them to get off in Daet.

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

### 150 MILES WEST OF FIJI, South Pacific

Leaving Fiji with a half load of bagged processed sugar meant that the most risky part of his extended deal with the Libyans was about to start. To Captain Con Theodopolous, the idea of extracting up to 150 Libyans from a few pick-up points around the Philippines was a risky operation. He had started to get a general idea about the operation in which he had become involved. The Libyans would be gathering in groups on various islands; then board his ship from bancas at several pre-designated points.

Confirmation radio codes and frequencies had been given for use on specific days. He feared he had become involved in a covert action against a nation of people he had come to love in the past few weeks. He was also risking his life, the life of the crew and his ship.

This time, the steamer was empty of Filipinos. He had already taken three shiploads from areas in the southern Philippines, and then returned them three months later. They had been like a breath of fresh air into his life. Despite their cramped conditions there had never been any sign of discontent. The language barrier that existed between most of them and his crew had not been a source of aggravation, just another reason for laughter. The happiness and singing on the trips made him feel that he was skippering a luxury passenger liner rather than a steamer. On his ship, the entertainment was being provided by the passengers instead of paid professionals. His crew and the Filipinos mixed freely. The Libyans, by contrast, remained aloof and disassociated themselves from inter-action with the Filipinos or his crew. He did not care. He and his crew had spent many happy nights over the past few months. Alcohol was not needed to make the nights enjoyable. His crew was enjoying the trips as much as he was, except when in close proximity with the surly Libyans.

He could take his time cruising back to the seas around the Philippines. He had excess time available before his first of the pick-up points in the Sulu Sea. This trip he had six heavily armed Libyans aboard watching him and not one friendly Filipino face to lighten the trip.

# CHAPTER 10

## DAET WELCOMING

### DAET, CAMARINES NORTE

T.A. woke as the bus stopped. Through tired eyes he looked out the window and blinked at the brightness of the lights. He wondered if this was Daet. He sat forward to look over the passenger seats in front of him. The driver was looking straight back at him and nodded once pointing his lips in Filipino style toward the building outside. Yes, it was a Caltex petrol station where they were to be met. Hopefully it was Daet and there was only one Caltex station.

T.A. stirred the sleeping Malou, folded the towel and began stuffing the carry-on bag with things they had removed. Despite the fact he had consumed drinks, cakes of chocolate and other munchies from the bag; dropped the wrappings and refuse on the floor of the bus, there still seemed more than would easily fit. By the time he had organised himself and Malou to dismount from the bus, the driver had removed his cases from the baggage compartment. T.A. wondered how he knew which bags to remove as there was no obvious labelling.

The German couple that sat behind them and the two Arabs he had seen arguing were already outside the bus. He wondered if they too were going to Apuao Grande. Before he had the chance to nod to the German woman, she and her companion had picked up their backpacks and began walking back in the direction from which the bus had come. The two Arabs grabbed their backpacks and without even looking in his direction walked forward in the opposite direction to the Germans. Malou and T.A. stood watching as the driver retook his seat. As if pulling out of pit lane in a racing car, the bus roared back out onto the road, ignoring and narrowly missing an oncoming tricycle.

The service station was larger than T.A. expected. He was surprised at the number of people hanging around for that time of the morning. He checked his watch; it was only 3:00A.M., earlier than they were supposed to arrive. Or was it? Now uncertain about the time the journey was supposed to take and combined with the uncertainties about the proper departure and arrival time, T.A. did not know whether they were early or late. Also he could not understand why all the people standing around were not at home in bed?

He looked up and down this main street and noticed it was all tarsealed. Apart from the few weak street lights, the service station was the only night life he could see. Perhaps that was the reason so many locals gathered here. There seemed to be nothing else to do. Yet this city had been the scene of the big gun battle between the Philippine soldiers and the NPA.

Nobody approached them as he expected. He picked up the baggage and walked inside the front door of the station thinking their host might be inside. No-one came forward identifying themselves as being from the Apuao Grande Swagman resort.

"Darling, perhaps you'd better ask where the person from Swagman Resort is," suggested T.A.

T.A. watched as Malou asked one man, then a succession of others without obvious success in any form of common language. Each time she had to ask in both of the two Filipino languages she knew, trying in Tagalog then in Visayan. Finally she spoke to someone who seemed to understand what she was asking.

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

"Oh nothing, it's just that most of the people here don't speak Tagalog or Visayan."

"Well, what do they speak?"

"We're in Bicol Province now, and their language is Bicolano. I don't understand it. The language is a lot different. A few words are the same but with different meanings."

"I thought your wonderful President Marcos had created a single language for all the Philippines," said T.A. grinning.

Malou was still sleepy and in no mood for frivolity. She glared back at him.

"That man hasn't seen anyone here from Swagman. He said to take a tricycle to their office which is only a couple of blocks away."

"What good will that do?" asked T.A.

"The woman who runs the place lives upstairs."

"O.K., find out how much to take us there."

Malou returned to the same man.

"We'll just wait here while he finds a tricycle we can hire."

"What's wrong with these ones here?"

"It's not the same. He has to drive a bargain to get the best deal for him to make some profit."

"Gawd, what ever happened to good old fashioned courtesy."

Again he got the glare. He would be stupid to labour the point. They were both tired and tiredness meant short tempers with both of them.

Negotiations were surprisingly swift. A young tricycle owner proudly fired up his tricycle and rode it over to where their baggage sat. He struggled as he tried to lift the first bag onto the tray on the back of his bike. Being of smaller stature and about half T.A.'s weight, to him, it was heavy-weight baggage. T.A. picked the other up one-handed, with the intention of showing his strength, and casually threw it on top of the first.

Malou motioned to the little side car.

"You'll have to get in first, and I'll sit on your knee," she said.

Their weight, or rather T.A.'s weight, combined with that of the baggage, negated the young drivers attempt to show off the power of his machine. He stalled. He started it again, revved the engine and stalled again. At the third attempt the tricycle moved forward slowly. It brought cheering, laughter and applause from the spectators.

T.A. looked at the silent back streets they passed down before arriving at a boarded over shop front. A large sign was painted above the boards advertising "Swagman Tourist Resorts - Daet Branch." T.A. felt the presentation was a little ostentatious for a one-man, or rather one-woman branch.

Though the sign was extravagant, the rest of the building was not up to the same standard. It did not look too secure either. He quickly unloaded the baggage and paid twenty pesos to the driver who was obviously very satisfied for the reward of such a short trip. The driver flicked a very casual military salute and accelerated away. His now lightened bike spun its back wheels and roared off down the street back toward the service station. It must have felt like a wonderful display of power.

'Obviously there aren't any noise pollution laws enforced here at 3.15A.M.,' thought T.A.

There was no obvious sign of presence inside the Swagman Office. A dim light shone through a narrow gap between the two large boards protecting the front window. T.A. forcibly widened a larger gap between the boards and saw the low powered lamp on the desk inside. It had been left on for security purposes. There were no other signs of life. The office did however look smart. Various large travel posters decorated the walls and it was finished off using a soft blue decor. He stretched his full height to look over the back of a sofa in case the resident was asleep on it, but could not see anything.

He tried tapping, quietly at first, on the window. Each series of taps got heavier and louder, but he soon realised if there was anyone in the office they must be dead.

"Obviously nobody sleeping there," he said. He stepped back a couple of paces and looked up to the windows above the office. No lights on there either.

"What do you think?" asked T.A..

"Maybe there's another Caltex service station," suggested Malou.

"I'll toss a few small pebbles at the window to see if I can rouse someone."

"Don't break the glass," Malou grinned.

He thought how it would read in the papers at home. "KIWI VANDALISES QUIET FILIPINO TOWNSHIP ON WINDOW SMASHING SPREE."

That would be all right if Aussies got the blame. But he was no longer living there. He was back in New Zealand.

T.A carefully chose very small pebbles in case the glass was lower quality. He had several successes hitting the window. The noise still did not raise any human life form. He knew that throwing any harder might get the result he was not seeking.

"You may be right," he said to Malou. "Perhaps there is another Caltex station. But who stays here to look after the bags? If I go back to the station I don't speak anything except English."

"I'll go back," offered Malou, "but let's just wait a while."

As if in answer to the problem of transport, the same tricycle driver roared down the street and stopped when Malou signalled. An animated conversation followed with hands being pointed in different directions. It made no sense to T.A.

"It was lucky that he was passing." said T.A.

"No, he came back to see how we were getting on."

"Thank him, and ask if he will take you back the station."

"He will, give me some money."

T.A. gave her some pesos.

"Be careful," said T.A.

"I'll be O.K," she replied.

She slid into the sidecar. The young driver slowly turned his bike back in the direction of the service station then roared away with little diminution in power with Malou's light weight aboard.

T.A., now alone, looked up and down the street. No building was more than two stories high. The footpaths were barely describable as such. He wondered where the restaurant was where the gun-battle had taken place. Wooden telephone poles were irregularly placed and occasionally topped with a low powered street light. Insecure and unsafe looking electric wiring linked them together, with even flimsier looking connections into each residence. The shutters across most of the windows were for monsoon protection, but they did not look too secure either.

Although the roads were not sealed down this street the constant traffic had compacted the dirt as hard as any concrete. Despite the hardness, there were a large number of potholes.

T.A. was thankful the still night air was cool. The lack of a breeze was leaving the talcum powder fine dust covering the road undisturbed. He had been places where the breezes whipped the dust off the road to such an extent that it was impossible to see more than a few yards. Handkerchiefs had to be stretched across the mouth to permit breathing without choking. In some other places he had found difficulty in breathing as in Pasay or Ermita in Metro Manila. There, the unrestricted exhaust fumes from excessive numbers of jeepneys, taxis and buses were worse when combined with swirling dust. It caused most people to cover their mouths with some protection. People did not use the sophisticated fitting masks that the Japanese and Taiwanese used. Here it was generally a handkerchief tied across the face looking like a bad guy in the cowboy western films.

He had often seen farm workers clinging precariously to overloaded trucks, sitting on top of a harvested crop, faces covered by a bandanna style cloth. They looked like formidable gangs of Mexican bandits that had carried out a hi-jack operation on the truck on which they were riding.

He snapped back from his thoughts on hearing the approach of the tricycle. Malou and her driver drew up alongside him.

"What's the story?" he asked.

"They said all the buses stop there."

"Yes, but is there another Caltex service station?"

"Yes, it's on the other side of the town, but this one is the closest to the Swagman office."

"Do the buses also stop at the other station?"

"I don't know, I didn't ask."

"I'm sure the woman where we bought the tickets said it was the first Caltex station where the bus always stops. What are we going to do now?"

"Apparently the office opens at 8:00A.M.," said Malou.

"Damn, that's over four hours away. I guess we don't have any choice."

T.A. began to think about what he was going to say to the Swagman management when he got the chance; assuming of course that he had not made the mistake by getting out at the wrong place.

"Do you want to go to the other station and find out if there is anyone there waiting for us?" asked T.A.

T.A. could see immediately that Malou looked uncomfortable at the suggestion. Before she had the chance to reply he jumped in.

"You don't have to go if you're sure you don't mind waiting here?"

"Can we just sit on the bags and wait?" asked Malou.

The tricycle rider meanwhile sat patiently on his switched off machine to see what their decision was.

"All right," agreed T.A., "We'll wait."

Malou took her cue from this statement and spoke to the rider. The young man gave T.A. a cursory nod, kicked down on the starter and powered off yet again back in the direction of the station.

"Didn't you pay him?" asked T.A.

"Yes, at the service station, he needed to buy petrol."

T.A. sat on his soft tube bag, pleased there was nothing breakable enclosed, apart from his well protected wrapped diving mask. He did not feel as tired as he had expected, but it still felt good to sit. Malou lay down on the second tube bag and was asleep within seconds. T.A. felt as if the quiet and darkness which surrounded them had made them invisible to all other human eyes.

It was not long before their invisibility was put to the test. A group of three teenagers on three high pitched Japanese motor cycles rode past in single file, apparently without seeing them. They turned right at the next block. T.A. was not sure whether they had gone on out of earshot or had stopped just around the corner. About fifteen minutes later his question was answered. All three youngsters, with three young females, pushed their three motor cycles back into the same street. For a while they just stood around chatting and occasionally laughing. A few minutes later, the youngsters kicked their bikes into life. With the girls mounted behind them, they roared off. T.A. wondered what they had been talking about. He was quite convinced the cyclists had no awareness of them being so close. The chance at being a fly on the wall to a private conversation had been lost the second time that evening because he did not understand the language being spoken. Malou was still asleep.

# CHAPTER 11

## THE CALTEX EXCUSE

### DAET, CAMARINES NORTE

The German couple had walked to the second street on the right, behind the service station and turned the corner. A jeepney with four chrome horses decorating the bonnet and red tape tied loosely around them was parked twenty metres further on. Without speaking to the sleeping Filipino in the driver's seat they got into the back and the male German tapped the roof. The driver woke with a start. When he looked around and saw his special passengers already aboard, he started his jeep. Driving them to their pre-arranged destination took less than five minutes. No words passed between them. At their destination, the driver quickly ushered them inside the door of a small out-of-town repair garage. They heard another jeepney pull up outside. The two Arab passengers were quickly ushered through the door by their driver who immediately departed. As soon as they entered through the door, their host, the first jeepney driver, pointed to four stretchers set up between the cars in the garage. Each stretcher was covered with a mosquito net. The host then pointed to an open door.

"Toilet, shower, sink and small kitchen," he said. "There is some food in the fridge and jugs of boiled water ready for drinking. Coffee, tea, sugar and coffee creamer are in the cupboard above the sink. All your bedding is on the stretchers. I will be back at 8:30A.M. Then I'll show you the photos, play the video film and give you the envelopes with the detail collected on your target. Please be as quiet as possible. People don't normally stay here overnight. I'll tell you where the weapons are later."

The guests said nothing, and the host slipped out of the small entry way which was part of a big double sliding door.

Immediately he had gone the two Arabs turned to look at their two German colleagues. Their eyes opened wide when they saw the German man pointing a pistol fitted with a silencer at them. The German woman immediately stepped forward.

"You stupid fools," she said. "You were told not to attract any attention to yourselves. You were arguing in public at the top of your voices. This operation can succeed without you. If you act that stupid again, I'll kill you both."

She paused to let the message take effect before continuing.

"If anyone else had understood Arabic at that stop, the whole operation could have been blown. Your dead bodies would now be still travelling on the bus. No more talking now. We will talk in the morning. Everyone will now sleep."

Both hate and fear reflected in the Arabs' eyes. Both could only meekly nod a response in the affirmative.

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

T.A. felt like he was in a vacuum waiting for a decision on whether he should be sent to heaven or hell. Malou continued to sleep. He watched the events unfolding around them as dawn approached the slowly awakening township. They were unseen by the people they watched walking past. Some were carrying farm produce in wide flat rattan baskets balanced on the tops of their heads. Other farmers dawdled past, generally following behind two or three carabao. All the passers-by were heading to wherever the daily market was located.

T.A. felt good in their anonymity. But the sky was beginning to lighten and they would soon lose their invisibility.

Malou, now awake and without checking her watch said, "Must be around 5:30A.M."

T.A. checked his watch; her guess was only three minutes fast.

Fifteen minutes later the sun began peering above the horizon and their invisibility was totally gone. People now passing them by looked in the direction of the "Americano", as all Europeans were called, irrespective of which country they came from.

Time passed strangely satisfying for T.A. The distraction of watching the day's momentum pick up with each passing minute was fascinating. Just on 6:45A.M. T.A. noticed a smartly dressed woman in a red jacket walking toward them. She looked shower fresh in comparison to the way T.A. felt.

"Where did you come from?" she asked. "I've been waiting at the Caltex station for you since 3:00A.M. I thought you must have missed the earlier bus, so I just waited there for you to arrive."

"We got off at the Caltex station just along the road here, and there was nobody there to meet us," responded T.A.

"Oh you got off at the wrong one."

T.A. wondered how many times she had used that same excuse before to get a few extra hours sleep.

"Now that I've found you I'll go back to arrange a jeepney to take you to our depot in Mercedes. There, the banca will to take you to the island. I'll be back in about ten to fifteen minutes with my boyfriend's jeepney."

With that she turned and walked smartly away, not leaving time for T.A. and Malou to protest or question.

Just after 7:00A.M. she was back in a bright pink jeepney displaying six horses on its bonnet. A sign "God Is Everywhere" proudly showed above the front window. A very sleepy looking driver sat behind the wheel.

At the red-jacket's prompting, the driver dismounted from the front and loaded the baggage. After nearly falling over on the first attempt to lift the first bag, he concentrated and managed quite easily at the second attempt. The second bag quickly followed the first into the back. T.A. followed Malou past the bags and they sat side by side on the inward facing seats. Now totally awake, the driver and the red-jacketed woman climbed into the front. At last they were starting the final part of their thirty-minute run to the fishing town of Mercedes.

The sun was now well above the horizon. The day looked fresh and it emphasised the lovely green of the rice paddies. Every now and again the jeepney brakes were heavily applied as the driver, heading into the sun, would be late in spotting a large pothole; belatedly he would try to avoid it, sometimes successfully, mostly not. One hard braking caused T.A. and Malou to slide forward along the bench seat to end up immediately behind the driver in the front. The driver had stopped to let a sow and her piglets finish crossing the road.

T.A., while pleased at the driver's concern for the countries domestic stock, was a little worried at his lack of concern for his passengers' comfort or safety.

As they got further into the township of Mercedes the streets got progressively narrower. The drivers speed conversely got progressively quicker. It seemed his concern for animals was greater than his concern for the populace of Mercedes. There was no slowing for pedestrians of any age, or for any of the blind corners they turned into, but he used hard braking to avoid any fighting cocks.

Thankfully they got to the depot without hitting anything or anyone. The driver backed carefully, slowly, and expertly into the loading bay, then leapt energetically from his seat. He had both the bags out of the back and safely against the depot wall before T.A. and Malou dismounted.

Another red-jacketed woman greeted them.

"I heard about you unfortunately getting off at the wrong service station," she said. "I'm sorry there was some confusion. Unfortunately the banca we had arranged to take you direct to the island has already gone with the day's market supplies. They will be back in about an hour. I hope you don't mind waiting until about 10:00A.M. The passengers coming by air will arrive then and everyone can go to the island together. I know how tired you must feel, so I'll show you a place upstairs where you can have a lie down and perhaps sleep for a while until the other passengers arrive."

T.A. was too tired to argue or disagree. He simply nodded and mutely let her lead them up the stairs, where a very primitive bed settee looked appealing. He and Malou both kicked off their shoes and tumbled onto the unnoticeably hard surface.

# CHAPTER 12

## BANCA TO APUAO GRANDE

### MERCEDES, CAMARINES NORTE.

Perhaps he had dozed, maybe not, it had not felt restful. Malou, as usual, fell asleep easily as she always managed to do, anywhere at anytime. T.A. felt envious, though he did enjoy looking at her sleeping.

The increased level of noise downstairs had woken him. It was probably the wiser passengers who had flown down. He hoped so. His watch showed near enough to 10:00A.M. He wanted to get to the island, have a shower and get into a proper bed.

He listened to the voices for a few minutes. He distinguished some English speaking voices from among the babble. Gently, he stroked Malou's forehead and high cheekbones. Her eyelids started to flicker in reaction, then kept opening and closing as though fighting for every last second of sleep. Minutes later she was more awake than asleep. Her sleepy eyes looked at him and her mouth gave a forced fleeting smile. Even when she was able to get to her feet she still sleepily staggered like a drunk. He would hate to have to wake her quickly in an emergency.

He watched and waited while she tidied her hair with her hands until she felt sufficiently presentable, then led her down the stairs. Twenty or so faces turned toward them with quizzical looks. T.A. imagined their dishevelled appearance would contrast with their aeroplane journeyed freshness. He was too tired to care.

Bags had already been loaded onto the official Swagman banca over a plank that linked it to the concrete ramp. The plank did not look secure. T.A. wondered if they would have remembered to fetch them from upstairs if they had not woken and gone downstairs. The banca could have left without them a second time and made him wonder what else could go wrong on this trip.

He was beginning to feel either he or Malou was jinxed this time. Maybe God was giving him a message. He grinned at the thought of that. How could an atheist think he was getting a message from God? There were recorded cases of people's intuition stopping them getting on to aeroplanes. Some of those aeroplanes had subsequently crashed with no survivors, their intuition apparently having saved their lives. Those of course were the ones you heard about. You never heard about the tens of thousands of others whose intuition told them not to fly, so they had not, and the flight they were supposed to be taking getting to the destination quite safely. That was not news or a newspaper headline. T.A. pictured the headline.

"PASSENGER INTUITION PREVENTS HIM JOINING A SAFE FLIGHT."

What then was his intuition telling him? The hell with intuition he just wanted lots of sun, clear sea to swim in and lots of love-making with Malou. Just in case he was being warned about something, he strengthened his grip on the carry-on bag containing his cameras.

He watched the other guests take their unsteady walks up the plank. Then they took their turn. They quickly settled in. He thought of bancas as the jeepneys of the sea. Most were simple fishing vessels, though some contained powerful motors which booted speeds along a calm sea at speeds at over 60 kph. Length varied depending on the intended use. Most were less than seven metres but some were approached thirty metres. All had outriggers, many on both sides.

Mercedes slowly reduced its profile behind them and faces turned forward to where they were heading. Being closest to the bow he was able to look back at the faces of his co-adventurers and wondered what history each had. As in his previous jaunt to the island, it was a mixed bag.

He studied the nearest couple. The man was a fair haired European wearing glasses and of a similar age to T.A. His woman was attractive, slim, and tall for a Filipino. Her long bared legs showed she had very dark skin. She was very sensual, probably in her mid to late thirties. He found it difficult to judge the age of Filipino women. He could not overhear what they were talking about because of the boat engine. A young boy about 11 years old clambered over some loose ropes and cuddled into the woman to shelter from the sea breeze. He too was dark skinned like the woman and looked like her. T.A. decided the man in her company was not the boy's father, but somehow suspected the man was still the woman's husband. Their familiarity was enough to suggest the closeness of spouses as compared to the nervous familiarity of some "paid for" woman, or the shyness or unfamiliarity of others.

T.A. disliked thinking of any of the girls on the banca as being prostitutes even though they were returning sexual favours for money. Perhaps they thought they were only exchanging time for money as paid escorts, with the sex as a side event.

Many Filipina have never seen outside the area they were born. This was a way of achieving that. Many were hoping to find a long term relationship with an "Americano". Not just any man, but a good man, kind to them, not cruel. Judgement and appeal of the opposite sex for these women was not necessarily based on whether the man was handsome, but whether he was kind. All thought that all 'Americanos' were rich.

Many Filipina were tired of the macho image that many Filipino men tried to portray to other men. Their record of infidelity was legendary and publicly boasted about. The most celebrated, Pablo Cuneta, was Mayor of Pasay for thirty-four years. Pablo Cuneta, idolised by the whole population, publically acknowledged fathering at least nineteen children to three different women, all of whom were effectively his lovers at the same time. All this was happening in a good Catholic country? Cuneta was admired and worshipped by men and women alike. Men tried to imitate his prowess which seemed to standardise acceptable behaviour. Though not condoned by the Church it was ignored as if it did not happen. The Church still needed funds to finance its holy works.

The famous Filipina singer Sharon Cuneta was an illegitimate product of those celebrated loins.

Divorce had only recently been legalised in the Philippines after six years separation. Many women had been deserted by their husbands. The women still had families to support. One easy way was to find some foreigner who they could keep company with for two or three weeks. Charging around U.S. $50.00 per day, they would be earning enough in one day to keep them for a month. With an average monthly salary of around U.S. $50.00, the women knew that being with a foreigner for two or three weeks could keep their family fed for nearly a year. If they were lucky to be with a nice man at the same time, a genuine love might develop. Many were hoping for more out of these meetings than the foreign men were offering. Hope still did spring eternal for most of the women. Many would just use the men to get out of the Philippines, but a few would end up in a genuine love-match.

For many of the men it would be their first taste of a caring relationship, even if paid for. Femininity still remained in many Filipino women. It had not been diluted by the westernised culture.

As with most of the Asian races, the Filipino woman was the ruler in the house. The man was the breadwinner who gave his salary over to the wife when he returned home. She controlled where the finances went. T.A. knew from his Filipino male friends, in N.Z., Australia and the Philippines, that it was a matriarchal society. He had yet to meet a male Filipino who would say, in front of his wife, that he was the boss of the house. He had seen these same macho men outside of their homes, drinking and boasting of their strength, prowess and manliness, returning home to become quite subservient to their wives.

The common fallacy T.A. often came across in western culture was the comment about Filipino women being "doormats" and subservient slaves. That stemmed from Europeans rarely seeing Filipino or Asians women of any race disagreeing with their partners in public. There was no airing of dirty laundry with public arguments. Disagreements were kept within the confines of the home, then, privately talked about, sometimes hours later.

T.A. knew most marriages to Filipina had not worked. Some where violence had occurred because the wife had not turned out not to be the pre-conceived subservient woman the European husband had believed. But he also knew of some previously heavy drinking and smoking men who had given up both vices with the help of their Filipino wives. Not from nagging, but subtle help and encouragement.

Other men, previously real wasters of money, had even bought their own homes; an unthinkable event before their marriage to a Filipina. Those were the success stories. A far greater number had failed. Some women left husbands as soon as they got citizenship. Others had found the bright lights of a foreign city attractive and had got into loose morals, many while still married to their sponsor husbands. Others Filipina discovered their petiteness and dark skin attracted many European admirers and they willingly succumbed to the sexual attentions of others beside their husband. Some had been lured by men with greater riches and enjoyed living a high life they had only dreamed of before leaving the Philippines. Then they went from man to man until their beauty passed them by. While some had left their husbands to get away from violent situations, a few remained trapped and suffered silently.

T.A. had seen many sides over the years. The one thing that he had seen in real life was that the image of the loyal, loving, honest Filipino woman was a myth. The generalisation of such praise on all Filipino women was highly inaccurate. They were no better than any other race. Many were the greatest liars and rumour-mongers of any people he had ever met. Locally they called it "chismosa". Despite that he had met some lovely Filipino women.

A tall, chubby, tough looking character sat on top of what passed for a cabin. He leaned forward into the sea breeze and seemed to be enjoying its cooling effect on his reddish face. His hair too was fair to reddish and thinning; about right for what T.A. thought would be someone in his mid fifties. His eyes were blood-shot, probably from too much alcohol over the years. That would also explain his larger than normal stomach. His looks suggested suffering a tough time in his youth. Sitting beside him was a very plain, almost matronly Filipino woman in her early forties. They seemed to be a good match. T.A. felt he would not like to cross this guy if he was in a drunken temper, the type that might get violent if provoked. Yet his lady looked as if she would remain calm in any situation.

T.A. wondered where and in what situations his co-passengers would be in twelve months from now. If he had been a professional behavioural science researcher, he would follow up on each of them in one year. Some scientists produced documentaries. But he was not there for that. Just for the pleasure of sea, sand and Malou.

# CHAPTER 13

## LOCAL INSTRUCTIONS

### MERCEDES, CAMARINES NORTE.

The Germans, Helmut and Heidi, had risen silently in the pre-dawn before their two Arab co-conspirators. As Helmut watched for any sign of the Arabs' waking, Heidi quickly and thoroughly searched the Arabs' back-packs. Satisfied they were not carrying anything out of place, she proceeded to make a breakfast from the meagre stock provided. Either the cooking aroma or the background noise, stirred the Arabs. On sitting up they saw that the preparations for eating seemed to include them. After a smile and a nod from Heidi, they seemed to relax slightly. The tension of the previous evening seemingly dissipated when Heidi presented each of them with a wake up coffee while they were still seated on their stretchers.

"I hope this is O.K. to go on with," Heidi remarked. She knew she needed to show a conciliatory mood. She might need allies later and it was better to have these two within her camp rather than personal enemies.

"I'm sorry for my anger last night," she went on. "Please appreciate that breached security can destroy the whole operation. Please be careful, there are tens of thousands of Filipinos who have worked in the Middle East. Many can speak or understand the languages from the area."

"I'm Heidi and my friend is Helmut. I know one of you is Aziz and the other is Raji."

She noticed which was which, as they each nodded in response to their names.

"Whether they are your real names or not, doesn't matter. Probably better that we don't know. We must be careful. It is important that nobody knows we know each other before we reach the island. I really will need your help. This mission depends very much on your expertise."

The Arabs seemed to relax. Heidi felt better too. Co-operation, not tension, was the key.

After finishing their coffee, the Arabs completed their ablutions. Heidi set their breakfast on an oil-stained plank placed between two boxes. They all finished a second coffee, tidied up and even used the crude local shower facilities of a water-filled forty-four gallon drum which was then poured over the body using a small container. Hot water was a luxury found only in the tourist hotels or the homes of the rich. Many places did not even have running water to the dwellings. It had to be fetched from a communal water supply piped to the street.

After they had all showered, little water was left in the drum. Someone would have to tote water from the source to the garage. The drum was probably rarely filled to the extent it had been for their expected arrival and use.

Heidi was pleased; the owner of the garage arrived on time at 8:30A.M. She did not feel like making any more small talk with the Arabs. From their breakfast chatter Heidi learned they were in fact from Iran. They had taken pains to explain Iranians were not Arabs and pointed out the historical differences. Thankfully the Iranians did not seem to be too talkative either.

"I hope you all slept well", said the cheery Filipino as he came through the small doorway.

He was wearing old grease-stained overalls which covered all trace of whatever the original colour had been.

"Your other two friends are also here with me."

He stepped away from the doorway and two further men of Arab appearance, with the seemingly Arab regulation droopy moustache, came through the doorway. Heidi immediately felt a dislike for one of them. The Arab's first words confirmed that he felt the same way about her and probably also about Helmut.

He suddenly spoke clearly in their only common language, English, pretending the comment was directed for only his colleague to hear.

"Looks like we've landed some Krauts from the master race as our minders Ali," he said. "I just hope they're at least half as efficient as my Uncle's old Mercedes truck. You know their ancestors left lots of those good trucks behind when they ran from the desert in World War Two."

Heidi's anger rose within her at the jibe, but she knew it was best to ignore them and keep a cool and calm voice.

"Welcome to our small team," she replied. "Yes, we are from Germany. Your distant cousins here are not Arabs, but are Iranians. I must presume you are the two Libyans assigned to this operation."

The Filipino garage owner too had sensed the tension and it had caused him to lose his sense of control over the situation. In the pause he had regained sufficient composure to realise that he had important information to give them.

"I have letters for each of you," he interrupted, "photographs to be studied, and a video tape to show you. While you're reading the letters and looking at the photos I'll set up the T.V. and Bettamax video. I can't leave it here as it might get stolen by a not so honest Filipino."

He felt he had to add the bit about it being stolen by a Filipino as he did not want them to think he was accusing them of possible theft. They were, as he had been told, professional assassins who would kill without question or remorse. He did not want to be the one to find out if it was true.

He opened the tool-kit he had brought and took out six A5 envelopes each marked with the same three letters but a different number on it. The initials were all APG, but the numbers were from one through to six.

He gave them all to Heidi. She kept the number one for herself, gave number two to Helmut, three and four to the Iranians and five and six to the Libyans. The Filipino then gave her a thick paper wrapped package. These were the photos.

Each tore open the mystery envelopes with the expectancy of children opening birthday presents. Heidi was aware that all over the Philippines, today and tomorrow, other little groups would be opening similar envelopes. She did not how many or where the other groups were, nor did she know that the instructions in hers and the others' letters were exactly the same except for the geographical location of the target.

There was a hand drawn map of the features of the target and markings for suggested defensive locations.

Her instructions read:

ATTENTION OF GROUP LEADER:

The objects of the groups' mission are as follows –

1/ Take over and control the tourist facilities on the Island of Apuao Grande. Capture and control the tourists both Filipino and foreign. The takeover is to commence from 2:00 a.m. Sunday April 18.

2/ Retain control over the facilities and its occupants UNTIL the Armed Forces of the Philippines (AFP) becomes aware of the occupation and begins to take some action, investigatory, or covert to retake the facilities. Then withdraw. Or withdraw at an earlier time if instructed by radio to do so. Or to withdraw if felt necessary to do so to retain the anonymity of the non-Filipinos.

3/ At all times the safety of the lives of the guests must be of the greatest importance. THE OBJECT IS TO DISCREDIT THE AFP AND TO ATTRACT WORLD ATTENTION BY PUBLICITY WITHOUT HARMING HOSTAGES. WORLD OPINION MUST NOT BE ALIENATED BY ANY ACTS OF BARBARISM OR CRUELTY.

Heidi realised the statements had been prepared in enormous detail. Each item that followed was clear in its instruction as to the way hostages, staff and even locals were to be treated. Whoever had organised it had provided for every imaginable contingency.

She noted with satisfaction that all the

Each leader would be given an interpreter, though all instructions to hostages were to be made by a Filipino. She read on.

TACTICS:

1/ Reasonable effort should be made to prevent any resort guests escaping. THIS DOES NOT INCLUDE SHOOTING THEM. The escape of hostages is not important to the overall aims of the mission unless it discloses the presence of non-Filipinos in the group.

Heidi appreciated the tactics about limiting any early display of the group firepower in the early stages of any conflict. This could make external opposition over-confident. The missiles were only to be used on larger targets.

The instructions advised that diversionary tactics had been arranged to provide time before the AFP would react. Heidi wondered at what they might be. Anything that would give time to consolidate their position would be appreciated.

GROUP MANPOWER:

Your group consists of a total of 72 personnel:-

When Heidi read that, she realised that this was not a trivial and pin-pricking mission. Nation wide it could involve many hundreds, if not thousands.

1/ There will be six members of the "management team." Four will arrive at the resorts as tourists a week before Saturday April 17. The remaining two will arrive with the main force at 2:00A.M. Sunday April 18. Four fully trained Filipinos will already be at the resorts as tourists. Signal codes for recognition of the arriving bancas will be included with the Group Leaders separate instructions.

2/ Balance of personnel will arrive on the bancas at 2:00A.M. Sunday April 18 will consist of the following:-

(a) The two remaining members of the "management team".

(b) 26 members of the regular NPA force trained in all aspects of the weapons supplied for the mission.

(c) 36 local area partly trained supporters. To be used for manual tasks or general guard duty. Untrained personnel should be dismissed as soon as practicable after control has been established.

3/ A qualified radio operator and multi Filipino language speaker will be assigned to the overall Task Force leader.

Heidi looked up and saw the others looking at her. She realised that, apart from Helmut who knew no English, they had all read their instructions faster than she had. This made her feel a little embarrassed that her reading and literacy skills in English were not as good as her subordinates.

To avoid further embarrassment as a slow reader she decided against reading her special Group Leaders set of instructions. That could wait until later.

While they had been reading, the garage owner had set up T.V. and V.C.R. He then quietly sat to the side. When he saw Heidi was ready he stepped forward.

"I've got hand-drawn maps of the island to give each of you," he said.

"There is also a wider map of the area which shows Apuao Grande in relation to other nearby islands in the group. These weren't included with the instructions in case there were any late changes. You've got the most up-to-date information we've got. With your island, it's a little difficult. Sometimes in the past, the main island is joined by a sand-spit with the small neighbouring island of Little Apuao. But if there's a heavy sea, or a storm it might be separated again."

He handed out the hand-drawn maps to each of his audience.

"I'll give you a few minutes to study the maps before I play the video. It might help you understand what you see on the video a little better."

Nobody commented. Each looked at the first map. Heidi noticed it was headed NOT DRAWN TO EXACT SCALE. It contained only basic information which could be filled in from local scouting of the island.

She skipped to the second map and noticed there were islands very close to the North and South, and slightly further away to the West. Eastward, for the most part, there was nothing but the Pacific Ocean. Their target was at the north-western entrance to San Miguel Bay and there would be no land masses within sight to the east. She paused her reading to look up. Again, the others were already finished and looking in her direction.

The garage owner made an almost futile effort to darken the room, hooking torn sacks over very dirty windows of an already poorly illuminated room. While he was doing this, the others moved the boxes on which they were sitting to positions in front of the T.V.

When the video started, Heidi was surprised at the professional camera work. Within minutes her ideas for the set-up of the defences began to take shape. Whether they correlated to the positions suggested on the map or not she would check out later. She would remain flexible and look at the photos, maps and video again. The opinions and suggestions of the others would help. It was important that they agreed. If not agreeing, it was important they were aware of what she expected of them. She wanted them to co-operate willingly, and she also knew she had to establish her authority before it was questioned. She felt the Iranians could now be trusted. The Libyans were still testing her out. She just hoped that her will would prevail, and she knew it must!

# CHAPTER 14

## FIRST DAY BACK

### APUAO GRANDE ISLAND, SAN MIGUEL BAY, CAMARINES NORTE.

The banca continued south-east. On its right was Canimo Island. They were less than fifteen minutes from Apuao Grande.

T.A. thought about why he chosen to come back to the same place. It was his third visit, though it would be only the second visit with Malou. After the second visit his relationship with Malou was severely strained. It was not because of any third party involvement that he was aware of anyway. He just never seemed to quite get the intimacy or communication that he wanted or expected out of a relationship. Malou seemed more distant and aloof at the end than at the start, only speaking to him when he asked a direct question. Even then she irritated him with her habit of not directly answering questions. Or she would answer with a question. People who did this had always irritated him. It was as if they were afraid of revealing some deep secret. Often Malou's stock answer was "What do you want to know for?"

T.A. could not think either of any general or particular reasons for this estrangement with Malou. She never opened a conversation. It was always him that initiated conversations. Although she was generally always quiet, he had put that down to her lack of confidence in English. That reason had worn thin as he had also experienced her vitriol in plain and simple English quite clearly when she wanted to use it. He was sure there had to be something else. He had to get to the bottom of it before he left this time. If only he could get close to her emotionally he could quite happily spend the rest of his life with her. At the moment there were still too many uncomfortable things.

Quinapagayan Island was now to their right a few kilometres away and Little Apuao was clearly visible just ahead. T.A. heard one of the banca crew telling a passenger that a sand spit now joined Little Apuao to its larger neighbour, Apuao Grande. Within minutes they would be at their destination and T.A. knew he would be falling into bed soon after.

He looked into the sea through the shadow cast by the boat's hull and wondered how deep it was. Occasionally a reef would pass seemingly perilously close underneath the hull. The light refraction made it seem only inches below. He hoped the banca captain knew the route through the corals. T.A. did not know how he would manage to keep all his camera equipment dry if the banca sank. He remembered on the previous visit he worried about the shallow reefs but then he had worried about how to save Malou. Now the cameras had taken priority.

The freshness of the sea-breeze was having the reverse of its usual effect on him. Normally he would be feeling sleepy with all this fresh sea air in his lungs. Perhaps as a smoker he appreciated clean air more than non-smokers. Despite his lack of sleep he was feeling wide awake. He was sure it would not last long after they arrived.

The tall masts of the resort hobie-cats were visible on the beach of Apuao Grande. Sighting them brought back memories of the nights lying on the beached trampoline covered outriggers of the hobie-cats. They were a strange type of yacht, technically he presumed they were a trimaran. Twin beams extended each side from a central hull to outriggers on each side. A trampoline type of material covered the area between the beams from the central hull to the outriggers.

After sunset the restaurant staff dragged the beached hobie-cats to a position above the high tide mark. During their first visit they went for walk a couple of hours after the evening meal. They discovered the trampolines were comfortable to lie on. After that, the visit to the trampolines became a ritual, always choosing the trampolines furthest from the restaurant, They watched the myriad of stars in the unpolluted night sky and frequently drifted off to sleep.

As the banca passed Little Apuao, T.A. saw the narrow sand spit that now joined Apuao Grande to its smaller northern neighbour. It barely looked a metre wide in some places. Perhaps this time he would explore the smaller island with Malou.

Immediately the banca pulled into the beach in front of the resort two resort staff ran a long plank from the beach to an outrigger of the banca. By the time the guests began disembarking, the banca crew were already throwing stores to other Filipino staff standing waist deep in the clear water. A few guests watched from where they were wading or sheltering under umbrella huts. T.A. checked his watch. It had taken forty-five minutes from Mercedes.

Previously the manager had always greeted new arrivals. Today he was absent. Malou managed her own way down the plank. T.A., part way on the plank clutching his camera bag, felt a moment of panic when the banca slipped back a few inches with the surge of a small wave before settling its hull down into the sand again.

From the beach it seemed nothing had changed.

The sun sheltered beach beer hut, 15 metres away from the main building, was still the same. By late tonight its two metre table would be covered in beer bottles and over-filled ashtrays. The thick plank seats around three sides of the table would be groaning under the weight of guests in various degrees of intoxication. The jet skis sat in front of the lockup shed which formed the southern wall of the beer hut. Old truck tyres, cleverly cut and inverted, provided additional and comfortable seats nearby.

To his right, past the area of the flat sand-covered volleyball area, the line of accommodation units and nipa huts were narrowly separated from the north-west section of the main restaurant. The southern side of the restaurant had three sides covered to protect the 8-by-4 billiard table, table tennis tables, dart board, bar, and some bar-seats and information boards, against the prevailing elements. The remaining east and west walls up to the kitchen and TV room were covered with a frail trellis but otherwise open to the elements. The internal horse-shoe shaped bar and restaurant area all looked the same.

The west entry to the main area was always wide open. No doors, simply a three-metre gap left of the paint-peeling trellis wall. Only a small step up onto a grey concrete slab showed separation between beach sand and the restaurant.

He never understood the plan leaving such small gap between the bar and the southern part of the restaurant. It only contained two tables and was rarely occupied. The bar service area inside the U was barely enough for two people to pass. Fat Filipinos need not apply. The counter surface area was covered with small dark brown tiles. Set about waist height, the patrons' side extended out to allow stool seating with the patrons' knees pushed under the overhang. T.A. remembered once or twice leaning back on to the bar and the sharp edges of the tiles digging painfully into his back.

It was too early for lunch, so apart from the few working Filipinos, the place was deserted. The established guests had already wandered away to do their thing or sleep late in their residences or nipa huts.

T.A. made his way to the left, past the vacant restaurant tables, towards the office reception area backing against the wall at the centre of the northern part of the building. That was the only other place where solid block walls were located. Passing the open kitchen cooking area to his right he stood back to watch the others check in and looked around still trying to spot any changes. The video room was still to the left of the office. Perhaps there might be a change in the available DVD's. They were kept in the lock-up cabinet just outside the video room.

Against the wall on a desk behind the reception counter was the radio transmitter which was the only means of contact the restaurant had with the outside world. To the right of that was a door marked 'Office Staff Only'. From experience T.A. knew this was where restaurant records, stores, guests' valuables and games equipment were stored.

Beyond that another extension abutted the north-eastern side where the local craft shop and general store were located. But access to those was outside at the back of the restaurant where they overlooked the pool.

The open plan was a necessity in this climate to allow any breeze to pass through the trellised sides, airing what would otherwise be an unbearably muggy enclosure. Beyond the concrete path at the back was the 14 metre by eight metre swimming pool. The concrete path surrounding the pool and the raised edge of the pool could get so hot that slow feet got burnt in getting to the cool water. The seating edge was always too hot, except after sunset.

Although they were staying in one of the dozen or so private homes on the island, situated 100 metres south, they still had to complete check-in formalities. He did not recognise any of the staff currently on duty. He had not expected to see very many, if any. It was a high staff turn-over industry and there were very few that had left an imprint on his mind from previous visits.

When his turn at reception came around, T.A. put his valuables in the safety deposit box and collected the house key. The three bed-roomed Nipa house where they were spending their time belonged to the Brooke family, friends in Australia. Although it was fully equipped with stove and fridge, T.A. and Malou had always eaten at the resort restaurant. That reminded him that he had never sampled any of Malou's cooking. She said she could cook, but saying and doing were two different things.

One of the helpers at the boat picked up their bags. He immediately showed obvious stress under the weight. Deciding to change carrying style, he then tried balancing one bag on his shoulder while carrying the other.

With the struggling helper leading, T.A. and Malou made their way through the open back of the restaurant, around the swimming pool, past two small umbrella huts, then south along the coconut tree lined path. The trailer wide path was also unchanged. Its tracks deepened by the tyre wheels of the vintage tractor and the long shallow trailer it pulled. The tractor was the only motorised vehicle of any description on the island. When it was out of service, as it often was, the same trailer was drawn by a harnessed carabao. T.A. felt the carabao was more consistent with the mood of the island.

Their house was about one hundred metres from the restaurant and the first private house on the left of the path. There were only fourteen private homes. Seven each side of the trailer path. Unfortunately theirs was not on the seaward side of the path. The Simpson house opposite effectively blocked a full view of the sea.

The steady background hum of the cicadas was typical of the tropical nature of the island. He had forgotten how loud they were. Then he remembered they got louder at sunrise and sunset.

When the house came into view, there too it seemed nothing had changed, except the lawn was more established. T.A. felt good about being back. A quick glance at Malou's face did not show that she felt the same thrill that he did. He would let it pass.

The bag carrier was first to arrive at the back door. Obviously relieved, he simply let the bags drop onto the concrete porch. T.A. was pleased he had kept the camera bag to himself. The porter reached out to T.A. for the keys and with practised ease opened the door.

Following Malou inside, even the lounge furnishings were in the same place. T.A. wondered if the two little geckos scurrying up the glass panel of the door in fright at the intrusion, were two of the same little group that were here before. It felt like he had come back to a second home. The bag carrier moved through to the main bedroom with the bags. T.A. followed. He thought about the lack of a mosquito net, but that worry was immediately allayed when the bag carrier reached into the wardrobe and dragged out a net. Malou muttered something to him, which he obviously understood and seemingly enthusiastically replied in a high pitched voice. He started up a constant chatter with Malou while tying the corners of the mosquito net to various strategically placed hooks.

Malou made up the bed. T.A. took no notice of, or interest in the proceedings and began to re-explore the rest of the house. Yes, it was good to be back and he did not give a damn about how Malou felt about it.

Within minutes they had finished fitting the net and making the bed. When they returned to the lounge the bag carrier had a big smile on his face as he looked at T.A. In response T.A. felt in his pockets and drew out a twenty peso note. The bag carrier waved his hand in protest suggesting objection to taking it.

"Please," said T.A. pushing the money into the porter's hand. The bag carrier accepted, then with a wave he left. T.A. and Malou were by themselves.

"Didn't you recognise him?" asked Malou.

"No."

"He was the one who was looking after the lawns when we were here last time. He thought he remembered us, but wasn't sure it was us. I thought I recognised him, that's what I was asking him."

"Oh," responded T.A. too tired to be really interested.

"Remember? He is from the local barrio. Last time we were here, he had applied for a job training as a chef at a restaurant in Manila. He didn't get it. Now he is one of the cooks here at the Swagman Restaurant."

"Ah ha," again responded T.A., "the face didn't look familiar. I've been wondering who else might still be here from our last visit. Maybe even some of the same visitors."

In the silence of tiredness they began to unpack their bags. Malou grabbed the towels and proceeded to the shower. When T.A. heard the water begin running, he turned on the wall mounted bedroom fan, aiming it directly at the bed.

While he waited for Malou to call that she had finished he wondered if he would ever become used to cold showers. This shower was far more sophisticated than most he had taken in other remote areas of the Philippines. Some resorts had a forty-four gallon drum of cold water with a tin to pour the water over the body. This had a proper overhead sprinkler even if it was only cold water.

Within seconds of T.A. finishing, they were in bed. Sleep overtook them both before they even thought of kissing.

# CHAPTER 15

## CHECKING, MEETING & EATING

### MERCEDES, Camarines Norte.

Heidi began reading her separate instructions and directives. At the page of armaments for her group, she smiled with approval. As expected, her helpers would be armed with M16A2 semi-automatic rifles. It would seem strange toting an American weapon after years of handling Russian, Chinese or Czech AK47s or the newer AK74s as they technically were as the redesigned AK47. Familiarisation with American weapons had been the main part of her re-training over the last few weeks. She was not against the complex M16; it was just that it did not have the same hitting power of the AK 47. Bullets tended to be deflected too easily by leaves or a strong breeze. It also had advantages. It did not rust up like the AK 47, but it was only more reliable if maintenance was regular. The ammunition was also more reliable, but the AK47 or the newer AK74 was far easier to operate, and even rusty ones functioned.

The next item on the list was three M2HB 0.50 calibre heavy machine guns. The thought of having these three machine guns meant that she could really call on long range, heavy hitting, fire-power to counter most offshore aggression out to two or three kilometres.

The greatest pleasure was when she noted they had been allocated six Stinger anti-aircraft missiles and three shoulder-launchers. She had trained on these, as had some of the Filipinos sent to Libya. She just hoped she would have a chance to personally use one in a combat situation against an aircraft or boat. She preferred the Stinger to the Russian SA-7. The Stinger was a genuine forward hitting missile. It could hit an approaching aircraft if correctly guided, whereas the older SA-7 was a tail chaser. That meant any aircraft would have delivered its ordinance and flown past before the operator could lock on to the hot exhaust of a receding aircraft.

Three 15-round loaded magazines and one hundred additional rounds were available for each M16. This was enough to mount a major assault, yet they were only required to defend. With six drums of 100 rounds of belt-fed for each of the machine guns, they had enough for a major battle. Three rocket-propelled grenades (RPG's) rounded out the armoury.

Twelve night vision glasses, twelve infra red starlight scopes and a good supply of parachute flares, meant that any night-time counter-attack could reasonably easily be seen and probably countered. Night glasses gave them a huge advantage over night-time activities of villagers or escape attempts by hostages.

There were four personal kits for the first four "tourists" on the island. These were for herself, Helmut, Aziz and Raji. She looked at the very silent Filipino garage owner.

"Where are the items listed?"

He looked with a shocked expression. "They'll all be delivered on the night when the bancas land."

Heidi glared at him.

"You know what I mean!"

"Oh yes. I do have something else to give you."

He got up and walked to one of the covered work-pits, pulled off the roofing iron covering it, and jumped in. Within seconds he had gently put four bags of the same size, but of different colours, onto the side of the pit.

"I nearly forget to give you these."

Heidi turned to Aziz.

"Aziz, what do you do to people who steal in your country?"

Thankfully Aziz guessed Heidi's ploy.

"It depends on what is stolen. If you steal a man's wife we would chop off the hands. But if you steal a man's sword then we would cut off his head."

The Filipino visibly shuddered.

"No, no, I really did forget. I'm sure I would've remembered before you left.

"Maybe you were going to make a small profit?"

"No, no. I give you my word."

"O.K. is there anything else which you might have forgotten. Remember, I have the detail here."

"Yes, yes, all the money's there, in Pesos. It's in the side pocket of the pink bag. It's all there, I haven't touched it."

Heidi was pleased she had played this charade. There had been no mention of money in her letter. The contact did not know that. He only knew there was money. In his mind he had probably already been thinking of ways he was going to spend it.

She grabbed the weighty pink bag, opened the side zip, and pulled out a wad of notes in one hundred and five hundred peso denominations. She split this into six equal piles, kept one and gave her five colleagues one each.

"Obviously this is for extra expenses. You, my little Filipino friend, I give you your life. Maybe you should thank Aziz. He is letting you keep your hands."

The Filipino still sat stiffly in his chair and although still wide-eyed with fear, his face showed some relief.

She passed the other three bags to their intended recipients.

"Please check their contents and see that we all have the same items, just in case there are other things our friend has forgotten about or accidentally removed."

The four began to take the items out to check them. The first cloth wrapped bundle Heidi removed contained the night glasses. She examined these carefully. She knew she would never get over her amazement as to how these worked. Apart from the wrap around goggle style eyepiece they were similar in shape to normal binoculars. The straps, like those of a diving mask, kept the glasses in place and the hands were free for other uses. Heidi put the goggles on and adjusted the straps for comfort. No matter how many times she put these on, she found the added weight to the front of her head put extra strain on her neck muscles.

She carefully re-wrapped them and checked the next cloth wrapping. The U.S. Army issue Walther P.K., complete with holster, three spare magazines and two boxes of .38 ammunition were enclosed. This had more kick than her beloved Beretta 951 pistol.

Next was the broken down M16, each of its parts carefully wrapped separately in oil rags and inside long plastic bags. Her model did not include a night-scope, but had the raised guide along the length of the barrel to assist snap shooting. Heidi assembled the M16 with practised ease. She quickly worked all the actions, with and without a magazine slotted in, and checked the gas setting. She felt pleased with the result. All the parts were enclosed and working.

Carefully disassembling it she re-wrapped all the parts in the oil rags. She opened the two hand-boxes of 5.56 mm cartridges to check all were enclosed and safe for transport. There were only two empty 15 round magazines, but this was only her interim supply. Inspection finished, she re-zipped the bag and looked at the others.

"Everything O.K?"

Helmut, Aziz and Raji nodded their agreement.

She looked now at the two Libyans. Although she despised the one she now knew as Mohammed, the other, Ali, had said nothing. As yet she had no sense of any attitude towards him at all.

"Ali, you and Mohammed will be given your kits when you are all assembled before the banca leaves for Apuao Grande. Check it to make sure nothing has been removed."

"Hey," responded Mohammed, "we're not used to being told by a woman, especially a Kraut woman, how to wipe our arses or check our kits."

Heidi again felt her anger rise then she saw the funny side to what he said. She wanted to reply that in Germany they used toilet paper instead of their hands. But she knew she could not react with sarcasm or threats. It was a time for a display of control and seniority. She paused to get her thoughts organised.

"Mohammed, it's like this. I have been involved in several operations commissioned by your Government. All those missions have been successful. I was even personally thanked by your wonderful leader, Moamar Gadaffi, before his death, for my successes in three of those missions. The personal meetings were all in Tripoli. If you have any complaints about me, then when you have your next personal meeting with his successors, pass them on. I will be doing the same when I return to Tripoli and I will be reporting about any further problems."

"Oh no, there's no problem," stammered Mohammed in reply. "It's all O.K., it's just that I'm not used to taking orders from a woman."

"Mohammed, don't think of me as a woman. Just think of me as another soldier."

Mohammed bowed his head. Heidi immediately knew for now the problem had been overcome, for now. But she would have to watch him in the future.

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

### APUAO GRANDE, SAN MIGUEL BAY.

It sounded like a motor-mower through his half sleep and his anger began rising. Why the hell did they mow lawns so early in the morning? He was going to give the care-taker a tongue lashing. He sat up eyes still closed, and threw his legs over the side of the bed.

His feet immediately got caught up in something he presumed to be a loose sheet. Opening his eyes he realised the obstruction was the mosquito net. He was not home in Auckland but on holiday. The noise was the crescendo cicadas reached before sunrise and sunset. He had forgotten how loud they got. He sat on the side of the bed and smiled to himself.

"Damned cicadas." It was almost painful to the ears.

It took a few seconds for him to realise it was afternoon, not morning as he sleepily first thought. The cicadas always began their heightened noise simultaneously as if a switch had been thrown turning their noise to an amplified din. It was the suddenness that had woken him. Through the closed wooden typhoon slats over the window he could see it was getting dark; close to 5:30 p.m.

Malou was still sleeping oblivious to the noise and his movement.

He sneaked out from under the net and into the kitchen to make a cup of tea. Walking past the lounge windows he suddenly remembered that there were still no curtains. Quickly returning to the bedroom he put on a sarong he had purchased in Bali a few years before. He ran the tap for a few minutes to ensure there was no rust in the long unused pipes; then filled the jug. When he switched on the fluorescent lights a couple were flickering. He would buy new starters tomorrow.

As the jug began boiling, Malou emerged from the bedroom, eye-lids barely parted and seemingly not balancing too well on her feet. She looked good with no clothes on. He loved that little naturally tanned body and the dark circles surrounding her nipples. Whether she was a freak of nature, or whether she was always ready for sex, he was not sure, but her nipples were always erect.

"Gee it's noisy," she said, rubbing her eyes.

"Yeah, that's what woke me too. Cuppa tea?" T.A. asked.

"I'm hungry."

"Yeah, me too, but do you want a cuppa?"

"No thanks."

She turned slowly to look around the room, noticed the uncurtained windows, squealed, and ran back to the bedroom.

T.A. grinned realising she too had forgotten there were no curtains. Within a couple of minutes she was back in the kitchen wearing loose fitting baggy longs and one of his t-shirts.

"Gee, you're thoughtless," she growled at him. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"You forgot too eh?"

From the look on her face he knew better not to push it. If he did, she would go through one of her silent routines for a few hours. Perhaps he should have warned her, but he liked to see her in the nude.

He abandoned the idea of a cup of tea and looked at Malou. When she looked back he pursed his lips to point in the general direction of the restaurant. She nodded in agreement; then frowned in disapproval at his mimicking the common Filipino trait of lip pointing.

He put on his thongs, and applied roll-on insect repellent on his ankles and arms in the hope of some protection. He was already sweating from the heat. Grabbing his emptied money bag waist pouch, he put the house key and two pen-light torches inside, then, put on a loose fitting shirt. He caught Malou's eye and nodded to the doorway. He thought better of pursing his lips again. Malou nodded. T.A. noticed the large and thick black horned armour-plated rhinoceros beetles on the glass of the back door. There were lots of small things he had forgotten. These big half-palm size beetles were only one of those things. They just seemed to sit, never going anywhere from one day to the next.

T.A. clipped on his waist pouch and turned on the outside lights before he closed the door behind him. Then felt the soft pouch once more to make sure that the two pocket torches and the key were included. He was pleased Malou was not going to delay them with her usual long getting ready routine.

Malou, despite her submerged anger, still took his hand as they walked along the path to the restaurant.

The lights and sounds of the restaurant soon came to their eyes and ears as they began to make out the shapes within. They stopped outside and from the dark they could see the patrons without being seen themselves. There were still no familiar faces. T.A. and Malou stepped onto the concrete verge of the restaurant floor and entered. As they looked around some patrons looked at them.

They went to the U-shaped bar to re-establish the routine started on the previous visit. Finding two empty stools side by side they sat down.

"Beer?" asked one of the girls.

"No thanks, may I have a cold calamansi juice please," replied T.A.

He had developed a fetish for calamansi in the Philippines. It was one of the few drinks that kept him cool for a reasonable time when it was taken cold with ice. It helped reduce the amount of sweat that seemed to be forever on his forehead. He also appreciated the never ending efforts of Malou to wipe his forehead dry with tissues.

"And your lady?" asked the bar girl.

Malou responded, "Hot tea with calamansi please."

The girl proceeded to go about getting their order.

"Recognise anyone?" asked T.A.

"Not yet. Oh yes, the other bar girl was here last time, you must remember her?" she nodded down the other end of the bar.

T.A. looked. "No, doesn't ring any bells."

With that, the second girl came down to their end of the bar. Malou started to talk to her in one of their languages. The girl smiled as she talked with Malou, occasionally casting a glance at T.A. and giving a broader smile.

Malou and the girl talked animatedly for a few minutes, seemingly ignoring his presence apart from an occasional glance. After a time she was called away to another patron.

"Well?" questioned T.A.

"Yes," replied Malou.

"Yes what?"

"Yes she remembers us. Her name is Rosalee. Do you want me to get all her other details for you as well?"

"Oh shit, is it going to be like this all night?" asked T.A.

"She just asked if we were married yet."

"Ho, bloody ho. What did she really say?"

"Well, you wanted to know!"

T.A. realised that this was going to be another conversation that was going nowhere. Malou was definitely in an argumentative mood. He thought a change of subject would be a safer.

"I don't see any familiar faces among the guests, apart from some of those with us on the banca."

"No, I asked Rosalee if there was anyone here that she'd seen before. Only one couple has been here before. All the others are first timers."

T.A. looked in the direction of the white-board displaying the evening dinner menu. It was, as always, displayed near the kitchen serving counter at the opposite end of the lounge to the drinks bar.

"Do you want to eat yet?" he asked, hoping to calm the prospective storm.

"Did you come here to eat, or to look around at the other girls?" Malou responded coolly.

T.A. knew that there would not be a loud public display of whatever the anger was about. It was not the Filipino way generally, but he knew there was something brewing. Maybe it was just tiredness, but she had slept well on the bus, at the banca depot, and again this afternoon.

"Do you want to come over with me and have a closer look at the board?" T.A. moved off slowly without waiting. Malou followed and joined him in front of the menu board.

"Anything you fancy? I think I'm going to splash out and enjoy that lobster mornay."

She remained silent and turned and started talking to a kitchen hand. Again T.A. could not understand. He noticed the kitchen cook was the same person who had helped with their bags that morning. When he saw T.A. looking in his direction, he smiled and nodded his head. T.A. smiled back and raised his hand in mock salute.

"What are you having?" T.A. asked.

"I've ordered mine."

"Aren't you going to wait for the waitress?"

"No, it's all right."

T.A. knew she was spoiling for an argument.

As they moved away from the board, T.A. looked for a spare table. One was unoccupied next to where the long legged woman from the banca was seated. As he approached, the woman's partner looked up.

"Hello," he said. "Settled in?"

"Yes," replied T.A., "and we caught up on a bit of sleep."

T.A. noticed that the man had an accent, but could not place where it was from.

"My name is Gunther," he offered his hand.

T.A. shook it and noticed he had a good strong grip.

"Just call me T.A., I hate the way people mispronounce my family name, it's a long story. This is my lady, Malou."

Gunther shook Malou's hand.

"This is my wife Diana, and the young man with us is Diana's son, Carlos," he replied.

T.A. shook both their hands.

"Perhaps you'd like to join us?" he asked.

T.A. looked at Malou. She showed no reaction at all.

"That would be nice, if we're not intruding," answered T.A.

"Not at all, we've already eaten."

T.A. grabbed an extra chair, and they seated themselves. The waitress was now standing at T.A.'s shoulder.

"Could I have the Lobster Mornay please? I think my lady has already ordered with chef at the kitchen."

The waitress nodded.

"Anything to drink?" she asked as she set out the cutlery.

"Another cold calamansi juice please, and," he paused as he looked toward Malou, "anything for you?" She just nodded in the negative.

"Just a calamansi for me thanks."

It really irked him when Malou pulled this equivalent of dumb insolence.

"How long are you here for?" asked Gunther.

"That depends on lots of things. We're not on any set timetable, so I guess the maximum time would be a month. More likely just a couple of weeks. What about you?"

"This is our third visit," replied Gunther, "We like it here. It's cheap and quiet away from all the noise where we live in Pasay."

T.A. noticed that Malou was ignoring everyone at the table to a point of rudeness. He hoped their hosts had not noticed and thought he had better break the ice.

"Where were you from originally, Diana?" asked T.A.

"From the Visayas."

At this he noticed a spark of interest from Malou.

"Where in the Visayas?" T.A. went on.

"Leyte, but we now live in Pasay in Metro-Manila when Gunther is home from his work overseas."

Suddenly Malou started to talk to Diana in what he presumed was Visayan. She knew that language would be common to them. Diana laughed. Within seconds they were chatting away.

T.A. looked at Gunther, shrugged. "I can't understand a word."

"I can speak some Tagalog and a bit less Visayan," he responded, "but can't understand when they're speaking so fast. They seem to be finding plenty to talk about. Di's normally fairly quiet and shy, unless she finds someone she really wants to talk to."

T.A. still could not figure out where Gunther's accent was from.

"The name Gunther; it's German isn't it?"

"Yes, but I'm from Denmark," replied Gunther.

"I've been trying to pick the accent, I'd never have guessed."

"It's been influenced a bit by my travels; it isn't as strong as it used to be."

"What sort of work are you doing?"

"I'm an engineer on oil rigs in the Persian Gulf. We have three months on and three months off. It's good money. I just fly back to the Philippines on the break. In that time Di and I can do what we want. What line are you in?"

"A bit of contract research work with the banks, Government, or private work if I can get it. Nothing exciting. Because it's on a contract basis I can take time off between contracts. How long are you here for?"

His question was interrupted by laughter from Malou and Di. Both, in unison, covered their mouths as they laughed. T.A. thought it unnecessary for both of them as they both had beautiful teeth. T.A. thought Di quite striking. She certainly had a nice body with shapely legs to match. Gunther seemed to be an open enough personality, but just as T.A. was looking at Di, Gunther was looking at Malou. "The grass always greener on the other side of the fence" thought T.A.

"We don't have any real time limit either," replied Gunther before he took a long swig on his bottle of San Miguel beer.

T.A. noticed Di look disapprovingly at Gunther, and guessed she thought he was either having too much to drink, or had already done so.

The waitress delivered Malou's order, something which T.A. did not recognise.

"We'll leave you both in peace to let you enjoy your meal uninterrupted," offered Gunther. With that they got up to leave.

"I hope we'll see you again," said T.A.

"Yes," replied Gunther, "the island isn't that large."

Malou carried on a final brief chatter with Di before they left.

The waitress delivered T.A.'s lobster. He was pleased to be alone. He could tuck into dinner without having to carry out polite conversation between bites.

"What do you call that?" T.A. asked Malou.

"Fish sinigang."

From her snapped reply T.A. knew she had switched off again. He did not care, the lobster was delicious. Between mouthfuls he glanced around the restaurant. He heard, before he noticed, a loud mouthed and semi-intoxicated skinny balding European male sitting on a stool at the bar. He was abusing a Filipino girl standing next to his stool. After a few minutes of verbal abuse, she turned and walked out of the restaurant.

"Seems like a charming bastard," T.A. said sarcastically.

Malou just ignored his comment as though she had heard nothing.

"And what the hell's wrong with you!"

"Nothing!" she snapped back.

T.A. was not going to push it here.

"Welcome to Swagman." The voice came from behind T.A. "I hear you're the people staying in the Brooke's house."

T.A. turned to see a tall and well built fair haired man with a friendly smile and face.

"I'm Ben, the manager. Sorry I wasn't at the banca when it arrived this morning. I'd taken a group out on an all day picnic to one of the other islands."

"I'm T.A., and this is Malou. We were here two years ago."

"I thought the face was familiar. I'll let you finish your meal, but let me know if there's anything you want or need. The staffs pretty good so they'll help if they can."

"Thanks, no doubt we'll catch you later."

With that Ben departed, T.A. looked at Malou.

"He seems friendly."

Malou just looked at T.A. and said nothing.

Malou's attitude was almost ruining his appetite for the lobster. He took another mouthful anyway. No, her mood was not going to put him off. It tasted good. Two could play the silent game, and he would play it too until Malou got tired of it and exploded into one of her rages as she would do when they were alone.

Dinner finished without further interruption, not even from Malou. After the waitress cleared away the plates, he signalled to the bar and ordered a double whisky with a San Miguel beer to follow. As Rose from the bar was delivering the drinks, the abusive male at the bar stood up, stumbled over the stool behind him, and swore unintelligibly. T.A. thought it was probably just as well he was so drunk. Even his swear words were mumbled. He lurched out of the open front of the restaurant. T.A. was hoping that he did not have violence toward his girlfriend on his mind.

"Who's your drunken friend?" T.A. asked Rosalee as she put the drinks down.

"That's Graham, he lives on the island and gets drunk every night."

"I hope his girlfriend is going to be all right."

"Oh yes. He's all talk and completely harmless. He'll be back in a few minutes. She always locks him out of the room. He then comes back here and drinks some more. After a while he gets so drunk he can't even walk. Once he's at that stage we go over to get his girlfriend, Adela, and she comes and gets him. He just falls asleep as soon as he gets back to the hut. When he's sober he's a really nice man."

Malou spoke briefly in Tagalog or Visayan to Rose before Rose returned to the bar.

T.A. enjoyed sipping his whisky and wondered if Malou had even noticed his silence. The tall chubby rusty-haired man with his matronly partner entered the restaurant. His cheeks seemed to be even redder than they were that morning. Perhaps, thought T.A., it was not drink but high blood pressure. T.A. watched him pull out a stool at the bar for his girlfriend before he sat down himself. "At least he is a gentleman in some areas," thought T.A.

He watched the big man down two small bottles of San Miguel beer in less than two minutes. At the finish of the second beer, his lady went to the end of the bar and got a small basket of salted peanuts and placed it in front of her man. As she sat down again beside him, T.A. noticed the big guy gently pat her on the thigh in thanks. Then leaned over and whispered something in her ear. In response she got up and walked over to study the menu board. As she passed he looked at her face and felt his earlier guess at her character was probably right. She definitely looked as though she was a caring matronly sort, and probably enjoyed giving motherly care to her partner.

She was not a fat matronly type, better described as solidly built. Quite a soft, slightly plain but still attractive face with almost all of the common Filipino features. T.A. instinctively felt she was nice. He just hoped that her ruddy-faced partner appreciated her good features.

T.A. watched her study the menu board for a few minutes. She sought out the waitress and then returned to the bar and her partner. In that time, her partner had finished his third stubby. She signalled to the barmaid for a fourth and put it in the polystyrene container, placing it in front of her man, next to his hand. The big man slid his giant hand the few inches and encompassed her smaller one inside his with obvious affection. Looking at their backs sitting side by side on the bar stools caused T.A. to grin. The big guy seemed at least twice her width, and would certainly have been more than twice her weight. His rear end far exceeded the width of the stool on which he sat. Hers was not small either and more than fully covered the stool. There was a Filipino male sitting three stools away. From that, T.A. was able to compare and see that the big fella's woman was broader than most Filipino men, yet carried it naturally. The big guy's weight and width were not the only features to attract attention. He was above average height which T.A. guessed at about six foot two. His size was imposing. Even though she was perhaps around five foot two they somehow seemed a perfect match.

"Anything else to drink?"

It was Rosalee at his elbow. She had snapped T.A. out of his daydream. Malou was still playing the silent game, he did not mind, he had been able to be with his own thoughts for a while.

"No thanks, but when we leave I'll take some things back to the house for later."

"I'll be at the bar until about 11:00P.M."

"Thanks, I'll see you later then."

T.A. continued his search for familiar faces. He spotted one at a table with Ben the manager. It was Pater, one of the island ex-pats. His house was on the same side of the trailer path as the Brooke house but at the far end of the row of houses. All T.A. could remember was he had been told Pater was an engineer that undertook assignments in various unappealing parts of the world that were highly paid because of the risk factors. Though T.A. had met him briefly on their first visit, then again on the second, on both occasions it was just before Pater was called away for some new assignment. He could remember Pater was a reservoir of general knowledge and tall stories, and a seemingly limitless supply of jokes. He was good company. T.A. thought it unlikely that Pater would remember him from the hundreds of tourists that visited the island each year.

At the pool table was another ex-pat he thought of as Mr. Banana, because of the way he was slouched over. His real name was Bob, a semi-retired builder and unofficial handyman for the Swagman Resort. T.A. had never seen him sober in the evenings. He always dragged himself off to bed around 11:30P.M. in a drunken state, then, managed to rise around 6:30A.M. each morning with a clear head. He would finish his repairs or odd jobs by mid morning, then disappear until around 6:30P.M., when he would reappear at the bar already semi-intoxicated. Despite his daily state, outwardly at least, his health had not deteriorated. He looked no different now to what he looked to T.A. when he first met him six years ago. T.A. marvelled at the fact that no matter how drunk, Bob seemed he was always deadly on the pool table.

"Do you wanna see a video?" T.A. asked Malou.

Malou shrugged her shoulders.

"Well, let's see what's happening in the T.V. room."

They got up and made their way past the kitchen and reception desk to the T.V. lounge-room to see someone else had just started watching "The Hunt for Red October."

"Have you seen this? It's an oldie but a goodie."

She shrugged again.

T.A. remembered that Malou was a fan of Sean Connery.

"It's got a boyfriend of yours in it."

As he said that, a close up of a fur capped Connery standing on the bridge of a submarine flashed on the screen.

"Oh yes," she said suddenly activated. "We'll watch this."

They found a seat and settled down to watch. Malou's mood had instantly changed for the better.

# CHAPTER 16

## WAITING & SETTLING IN

ILIGAN, NORTH-WEST MINDANAO.

Raul de los Reyes, her faithful little aide, came into the room to see Warvic bent over the detailed area maps. She looked up and saw his wide smile.

"Well, it looks like good news, is it?" she asked.

"Yes. It wasn't that there was a problem in getting the bancas from Mercedes for transport like we thought. It's just that there was a problem in selecting which were the best available from a wide selection. There were so many locals prepared to loan their bancas, even though they didn't know what they were needed for," he replied.

"That's the last one then. If we hadn't got word about the bancas by tomorrow, I was going to scrap Apuao Grande. It was my last choice. I only included it because I had a spare group available for that area. So we now have a go for sixty-six resorts."

"It's a big operation. I don't know who else could've pulled it together," Raul complimented her.

"Thanks Raul, but to partly quote a man from English history, Churchill, this is not the end, it is not even the beginning of the end, it is only the end of the beginning."

Raul looked at her strangely.

"Forget it, Raul. What I was meaning is that we have only just begun. Not all our other plans have gone exactly as we want. Once this starts, it's out of our hands. There are sixty-six chances of success, just as there are sixty-six chances of failure. We know that if we fail at more than four or five, our real success reduces accordingly."

Warvic knew it was probably too late to call it off. Even if she could contact some groups it would be unlikely she could contact them all. To try and reorganise another action day would take months. Her Libyan financiers would lose faith and might undertake retribution. No. It had to proceed.

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

### APUAO GRANDE.

When the film finished, T.A. and Malou moved to the bar. Rose was still on duty even though it was just after 11:00 p.m. She was still serving a few remaining drinkers.

"I was hoping you were still here," said T.A.

"Yes, just about to finish up," she replied.

T.A. selected some Cola, Seven up, and fruit juices, signed their chits and headed off to the beach for the ritual they had established on their first visit six years before. They found the hobie-cat furthest from the restaurant and lay down on the trampoline to stare up at the stars. Tonight was dark, almost black. The light of the young new moon was still weak. For the moment they could enjoy it as the full brightness of the stars were little diminished. Within a few days the moon's light would dominate so much they would not need their torches to see their way, except when walking under the forest canopy. Then, it could be so black you could not see your own feet.

They had often fallen asleep here before making their way back to the house. It was peaceful and secluded. This was another little sanctuary which had rarely been violated. Occasionally, the sounds of laughter from the beer hut would drift to their ears. Lying flat and remaining still, unseen, they would watch as couples walked past their hobie-cat for a moon-lit walk. Remaining still and silent protected their invisibility.

Sometimes, after falling asleep, they would wake long after the beer hut was deserted and all the restaurant lights were dimmed. They had to make their way back to the house with the beam of the penlight torches lighting their footfall, skirting the side of the restaurant and swimming pool and nervously stopping as toads jumped out of their path on being picked up in the beams.

The windows of the brightly lit porch swarmed with moths of all sizes. Dozens of toads sat beneath on the concrete floor ready to jump at any moth unlucky enough to lose its grip on the ceiling or window and not regain flight in time. Smaller moths on the windows had the added problem of surviving the fast window running geckos as well.

T.A. and Malou always carefully picked their way through the gauntlet of the toads. As soon as they were inside T.A. would switch off the outside light to reduce the moth slaughter.

This first night back, Malou made her way directly to the shower without speaking. When she had finished, T.A. too showered, but by the time he entered the bedroom Malou was already feigning sleep. She had been uncommunicative even on the trampoline of the hobie-cat. Generally, time on the trampoline was a type of relaxation and reconciliation when they felt closer. Somehow tonight it had not worked.

"What the hell's wrong with you?" he snapped.

"Nothing." she replied.

"If you don't want to be here, you can always go back on the banca tomorrow."

"That's what you want isn't it. Then you can look at all the other girls without me being in the way."

"So that's what it's all about."

"If you don't want me here, why don't you send me back?"

"If that's what you want."

"No, but it's what you want?"

"Can we stop all this childishness and get on with our holiday."

"Maybe it's a holiday for you. You just look at the other girls as if I wasn't here. I saw you looking at Di. But you've missed out there because she's married."

"I guess you'd think I'm gay if I talk to men. For God's sake grow up. I look at Rolls Royce cars too, but I wouldn't buy one."

"But you might like to test drive one."

"Not if it meant I'd lose my own car."

"So that's all you think of me as, a car?"

"Now what do you want trying to argue about?"

"Oh nothing, you just don't understand."

"No, but I'm trying."

"You'll never understand.

"Can we drop it?"

"You started it. Just leave me alone, O.K.?"

T.A. knew he was getting nowhere. Hopefully tomorrow would be another chance. Tonight was a write-off. He just turned his back and he too began to feign sleep, until the pretence of sleep was superseded by the real thing.

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

### APUAO GRANDE

The cicadas began their normal loud welcome to the new day, quickly reaching their crescendo. Again the noise woke T.A. much sooner than his normal waking time. He wanted to roll over and go back to the comfort of sleep. The noise was too loud and the suddenness of his waking had made his mind too alert to manage an immediate return to sleep. Beside that the pressure of his full bladder was making him uncomfortable. Nature was demanding attention both inside and outside.

After seeing the flush of the toilet, T.A. remembered the beautiful taste of the house's own bore water supply. He would never use the tap water anywhere else in the Philippines. But this water was as fresh as any he had ever tasted. He rinsed the largest glass he could find. After a few gulps he realised it was just as good as he remembered, pleased that this too had not changed. It seemed to have a special quenching effect.

He looked through the back window above the bench. The attempt to sow a lawn in the back yard was being met by an equally determined rain forest trying to claim back the same area. It was only about ten metres from the back porch to the thickness of the forest. Where the grass and forest met was a humanly cleared narrow bare patch. It was dominated neither by lawn nor the hacked-back ground ivy trying to invade the lush green patch of grassed area.

Thirst quenched, he began to make his way back toward the bedroom. He paused to look out the lounge window at the front. Little hade changed here either. The lawn of the front yard was doing much better than the back yard. To the right of the lawn, the thick forest was held back by a nicely tilled garden without flowers. To the left another narrow tilled area separated the Brooke house from the neighbouring house.

Twenty metres to the direct front was the trailer track. Going right it led to the restaurant, going left led to the barrio. He had only been watching a few minutes when a carabao pulling a trailer passed by heading toward the restaurant. T.A. knew that using the carabao meant the tractor had broken down again. This pass-by was an early morning routine, though T.A. had never seen anything on the trailer and never thought to ask about it. Always at less than a normal walking pace, even with the tractor. Sometimes, as now, the driver slouched over as though still asleep. The carabao knew its destination, presumably from years of following the same route. Strangely he had never seen it on the return journey back to the barrio. He went to check the time on his watch and realised it was still on the bedside table. Some deep recesses of his memory told him that the carabao passed by around 7:00A.M.

He returned to the bedroom and stood outside the mosquito net for a few minutes. In the dim light he looked at Malou lying naked on top of the sheet. Though it was full daylight outside, the closed shutters barely allowed enough light in to see darkened outlines.

He remembered Malou had told him the shutters were called jalousie. She had taken pains to point out that there were two types of jalousie, wooden and glass. This house had wooden ones, with a normal glass window fitted outside. He toyed with the idea of opening the jalousie a little to see more of Malou's nakedness then remembered they squeaked noisily when they were adjusted. So, missing his opportunity of voyeurism, he got back under the mosquito net and onto the bed. It was cooler here, helped by the little wall-mounted electric fan. He thought about caressing Malou and making love. While he was thinking about it he fell asleep.

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

### ILIGAN, NORTH-WEST MINDANAO.

Warvic, Suraido, their aides, guards and equipment were ready for their trip to Mt. Kanlaon on Negros. Tests had shown it was the most suitable place for monitoring and sending radio transmissions throughout the Philippines. It was also a very strong NPA area.

To avoid attracting attention, they would travel in separate slightly larger but much faster bancas departing a few minutes apart.

Warvic was not looking forward to the long trip. Along with her other frailties, she included the weakness of sea-sickness. She knew the debilitating sea-sickness would be followed by a hard trek into the high terrain of Mt. Kanlaon. That would produce muscle aches and strains, to be compounded later by stiffness as the stretched muscles tried to return to their normal length.

This trek would again test her nicotine stained lungs. Why did she ever start smoking? Maybe if a real Peoples' Party was in power she would try to have cigarettes abolished. As an example to others she would then be forced to give up. Maybe she would try to stop after all this was over. Once she had given up she could chide others about their weakness. First she had to get to the base camp.

# CHAPTER 17

## RELAXING AND WATCHING

### APUAO GRANDE

It was near lunch time when T.A. emerged from the bedroom for the second time that day. He had showered before Malou woke emerging in her half-sleep mode.

"C'mon, let's get out and see who else's around," T.A. invited.

The invitation took seconds, but an hour passed before she was ready. The muggy heat hit them immediately they exited the back door, and within seconds T.A. felt the beads of perspiration on his forehead.

Reaching the front lawn they saw the wild turkeys that roamed freely around the island picking at the grass on the front lawn. It brought a smile to T.A.'s face. Immediately Malou saw them she burst out laughing.

"Oh, oh, oh," yelled Malou.

"Torka, torka, torka, torka" the turkeys responded.

Malou squealed in delight.

The three males spread their tails into fans taking an aggressive posture, shaking their bodies as they strutted around the half dozen females and several chicks.

Malou laughed again. It made T.A. feel good to see her laughing even if it was only at turkeys.

Malou continued teasing the turkeys. Each time they responded to her call she burst out laughing again. She ran to T.A., kissed him on the cheek, and slipped her hand into his.

"Thank you turkeys," yelled T.A.

"Torka, torka, torka, torka" replied the turkeys.

Hand in hand, happy, they headed to the restaurant.

As they stepped into the restaurant Malou stopped and looked at the lady behind the bar.

"Is that you, Ness?"

T.A. looked too and saw the snow white smile emanating from the dark almost black face.

"It is you, Ness! Great to see you again," joined in T.A.

The big smile from behind the bar beamed wider. T.A. remembered Ness was not confident with English. She was a woman of few words anyway.

She rattled off something to Malou in Tagalog and they both laughed. Ness sneaked a quick side glance at T.A., he responded with a wink. He liked Ness for many reasons.

It had taken T.A. a long time to break through her barriers on his first visit. Perhaps he had not broken through at all, she had let him in. She had an aversion to foreigners, long being mistreated by the drunks she had to politely serve.

Ness traded swearing and abuse equally with any drunken patron, as long as management were not within earshot. On the surface it seemed good natured swearing. After letting off some choice swearing at an irksome customer, then glaring, she would look at her few accepted friends and roll her eyes full circle. Other times she would poke out her tongue when the abuser's head was turned away.

T.A. enjoyed playing pool with Ness. She was the consummate shark, only playing well enough to just win. Staff members were not allowed to play for money against guests, so she played for cigarettes. Occasionally she would diplomatically lose.

"Well," thought T.A., "she diplomatically lost to him anyway."

T.A. and Malou had their standard pre-lunch drinks at the bar; hot tea with calamansi for Malou and cold calamansi for him. They sat in the restaurant section before giving their order to the waitress. There was no sign of Gunther and Di. A few extra people he had not seen the previous night were already eating.

With surprising swiftness their order arrived. A young couple entered the bar area with the woman carrying a fair haired pretty little girl. The girl looked about three or four years old. When they found themselves a table in the restaurant the man politely pulled out the seat for his Filipina partner, the little girl scrambled onto a seat unaided.

"Look at the little cutie," said T.A.

"She's very fair, even for a mestiza," she said, "but the wife isn't dark like a pure Filipino."

The new-comers placed their order and were soon in quiet conversation. The little girl sitting in her own chair acting like a real lady pulled her skirt down to cover the top of her legs. The table height was presenting a problem for her until the man placed two seat squabs underneath her. At table level she sat forward, elbows on the table, chin nestled between her palms. She then examined all the other patrons in the restaurant.

Her appeal to all was instantaneous. Each passing staff member or guest made some comment to her. The island had a new darling.

Nearing completion of her meal, Malou touched T.A's arm.

"Look, there's the dog that was here last time. What's his name?"

T.A. looked at the dirty little wire haired terrier mongrel that had taken up a sitting station beneath their table.

"Fred. Hey, I'd forgotten all about you."

Malou tossed Fred the last few chips from her plate. As soon as he had scoffed them, T.A. looked at the small amount of meat still on his T-bone steak and decided Fred would appreciate a bone with a bit of meat on it.

On their last visit Fred frequently visited their house. T.A. knew it was because he put out a tin of fresh water, and occasionally some milk, for him.

Nobody knew Fred's origin. He had just appeared at the restaurant a few years before, and remained, adopting successive guests. Whether he had deserted the barrio for the better spoils of the restaurant, or fallen from, or been left behind by a visiting banca, nobody knew or cared. The management had let him stay as he was not a nuisance, and he rarely barked. He occasionally paid his dues to the restaurant management by disposing of some of the rats not taken by the kitchen python.

The kitchen python was another story. That became the unofficial guardian of the kitchen several years before as another deterrent for the rats. Management turned a blind eye to its existence as long as the resort guests were officially not aware of it. It had been brought into the restaurant by a previous staff cook, to prevent its sale to a banca owner. They were always on the lookout for a python as a rodent catcher on their vessels. The island's pythons were often sold for good money. The kitchen python was almost two metres long.

One evening, a few months previous, it had caused panic among the restaurant diners when it fell from the rafters. Panicked diners scattered, tables, crockery and cutlery were strewn widely over the floor with partly completed meals. Kitchen staff quickly retrieved their pet. After a surprisingly short time most guests were sufficiently composed to want to hold it and have photographs taken. It received a reprieve from the death sentence ordered by the management through the clemency demanded by the guests; presumably only until a further unpardonable transgression occurred.

After the table was cleared, T.A. and Malou walked out the front of the restaurant to the beach. Sitting in the shelter of the beer hut, out of the sun, they could pass the time watching any ocean activities. The beer hut was a common meeting place for the less energetic. The time of day was irrelevant here.

The resort speed boat passed by towing a very proficient skier in its wake. Further out toward Caringo, Malasugai and Quinapagayan islands in the middle distance another two guests were enjoying jet skiing. This was a new addition to the amusements offered since their last visit.

During their visits, the sea had always been flat between the western side of the island and the three islands further west. No surf, just a little ripple of waves onto the beach. T.A. guessed the distance to the other islands at four to six kilometres. Beyond them was the distant main island of Luzon.

Single plumes of smoke drifted directly skyward from the two inhabited islands of Caringo and Quinapagayan showing the lack of wind at any height. No one knew why Malasugai was unoccupied.

Two of the resort's hobie-cats were making very slow progress midway between Apuao Grande and its western neighbours. The air looked clear but T.A. still felt the muggy heat with his sweat already wetting his singlet. He decided to test the temperature of the sea with a thought to snorkelling later. He dropped the thongs from his feet but had only taken about six paces onto the unshaded sand when the heat began to burn his soles. As he started his high stepping run to the sea, he heard Malou's laughter behind him. The sea felt good. Yes, he would snorkel the reef after his food settled.

He sand danced back to the beer hut accompanied by further laughter.

While they sat allowing the time to pass watching the off shore activities, various people came and went through the hut stopping for brief conversation before moving on.

A small banca beached to the front of the beer hut, dropped off a couple of passengers, then pulled away on its return journey.

"Hey," T.A. said to Malou. "That's the German couple that were on the bus."

"Is it? I haven't seen them before."

"No, you were asleep."

The Germans walked up the beach toting their backpacks and two long tube bags not dissimilar to T.A's. As they drew level with the beer hut T.A. called out.

"Welcome, I'm pleased you made it after all."

They looked at him a little surprised. Then the lady he remembered as Heidi recognised him and replied.

"Ya, we had a change of mind."

"We'll see you later, it's a small island."

"Ya, we check in now."

They passed by and into the restaurant.

"I'm surprised to see them. She said they weren't coming here."

"Maybe someone suggested it," replied Malou.

"Shit. He looks super fit. I wonder how she managed to land him."

"Oh, I don't know, she looks as though she has quite a nice figure."

"Yeah, maybe it's a sexual thing."

"What's a sexual thing?" the solidly built Pater said as he sat down in the shelter with T.A. and Malou.

"Hi," said T.A., surprised by the silence of Pater's approach and arrival. "We were just talking about the German couple that just came in on the banca."

"German are they? Yeah, I noticed them. She sort of gave me a funny look as she walked past."

"Well Pater, you do look frightening in your singlet and tight shorts."

Malou kicked him under the table losing one of her thongs in the process.

T.A. felt a kinship with Pater more than just their being of a similar age. Pater had kept his body in good shape despite the large amount of beer he drank. T.A by contrast drank very little alcohol, but by comparison with Pater's hard muscular build, T.A. felt a little flabby. Perhaps there was a little bit of envy in what Pater had achieved, although much of what he did was a mystery. Pater was not a secretive person; he just did not speak about what he did. He had a seemingly endless collection of stories and jokes from the many different countries he had been to.

"How long are you here for this time?" asked Pater.

"No real timetable. Maybe two or three weeks. Time isn't important. We'll just leave when we've had enough," replied T.A.

"Why don't you buy a block of land here and build a house? You fit in well with all the permanents here."

"Thanks Pater but I don't have that sort of spare cash. I've often thought I'd like to retire here, but I have to amass my fortune first."

"Shit, you don't need a fortune. There are a couple of extra sections available at the moment. I don't know how many more will be available later, if any."

"Don't worry; the thought has crossed my mind."

"This time, while you're here, come to my little place for a beer. Anytime. I don't invite many guests to share my cold beer. And, I don't expect to get any calls away to urgent jobs, so I'll be around."

"Thanks again." T.A. felt complimented. He knew Pater rarely offered invitations.

"We will. What do you do with the rest of the spare time you've got?" asked T.A.

Pater turned his face slightly presenting more of the left hand side. "Sorry I didn't catch what you said."

T.A. slightly increased the volume of what he said. "I was just asking about your spare time on the Island."

"Time passes quite easily. Occasionally I get a job overseeing an engineering project overseas for a few days up to a few months. While I'm here I'm just happy to let the time pass. Like most of the ex-pats, I use the resort facilities, easier than cleaning the kitchen."

They sat in silence watching the activities off shore.

Ness entered the beer hut from the restaurant. In her silent fashion she was asking whether we wanted drinks. She looked at Malou.

Malou raised her hand in a dismissive gesture. "No thanks Ness."

"Beer for me," replied Pater, "what about you T.A?"

"Not a beer yet Ness, but I'd love another long cool calamansi drink."

Ness nodded and made her way back to the restaurant.

"I notice you turning your head to listen with your left ear. What's wrong?"

"Yeah, the hearing in my right ear got a little buggered on my last job, standing too close to a seismic test explosion. It'll come right, given time."

T.A. spoke unnecessarily loud. "I heard that too much sex makes you deaf."

"What?" yelled Pater at the top of his voice.

They both laughed.

T.A. looked at Malou for approval and got the dagger look back.

"Hey," said Pater, "how about joining me in shooting a few arrows on the range later in the afternoon? You can hire a restaurant bow and a few arrows. I've got my own."

"I've done a bit. I'm not too good though," replied T.A. modestly. "I'll be a starter if you're willing. What time?"

"I'll collect you later, after siesta. You're in the Brooke house again aren't you?"

"Yeah."

"Bring a few cold beers; it's hot work."

They lapsed into relaxed silence again. Ness brought the drinks, and T.A. thought about his limited skills with the bow. He was better than many but he had only ever been a social archer, never having entered any competitions.

T.A. felt more relaxed than he had for months. The silence between T.A. and Pater was neither forced nor uncomfortable. It was the silence only capable between friends who did not need words.

The next half hour or so passed interspersed with occasional small talk, re-supplying of drinks, or the passing by of other guests on their way down to the water; most ending up doing the hot-sand dance. The jet skis were pulled up on the sand above the high water mark. At nightfall they were dragged into the shed by the beer hut. T.A. thought he would try jet skiing on this visit.

Pater stood up to go. "Siesta time, I'll call in when it cools down a bit."

"Sounds good to me," replied T.A.

With that Pater left.

T.A. looked at Malou.

"Swim?" he asked.

"You go. It's too hot for me."

"I mean snorkelling. We'll have to go back to the house to get the fins and masks."

T.A. knew Malou, like most other Filipino women, disliked getting sunburnt. While European races spent hours trying to get a beautiful tan like the Filipinos', Filipina avoided the sun in an effort to get fairer skin. Richer Filipina spent a fortune undergoing skin bleaching treatments to make their skins whiter.

"I'm not going far out, just to the little reef in the front."

"All right, but not for long."

# CHAPTER 18

## ARCHERY, ESTRANGEMENT & OLD FRIENDS

### APUAO GRANDE

After snorkelling, T.A. picked up a compound bow of the right pull length and a dozen dowelling target arrows from the office. Malou enjoyed the snorkelling more than she had anticipated. They had just returned home, showered and changed clothes when Pater arrived.

The archery target range was a crude affair set up a few yards past the tennis court. Behind the well used target was a hard dirt mound topped by loosely cemented blocks to prevent arrows going into the jungle. Many blocks had worked loose and many were obviously missing, probably now part of someone's hut in the local barrio. Eventually they would all disappear for the same use. Management recognised such losses were unpreventable, so just replaced them as necessary.

"We'll start at ten metres to see how you go," said Pater. "Five arrows each eh?"

T.A. was relieved at the short distance selected.

After the first round, T.A. was impressed with Pater's skill. He did not feel too disheartened about his own either. Three of his arrows were inside the inner three rings. All of Pater's were in the bullseye.

"You're not bad," commented Pater. "Let's go back to eighteen metres."

The second round from the greater distance showed little diminution in Pater's accuracy, but T.A. saw a large drop in his own. He looked at Malou for some encouragement. She just looked away disinterested, making sure the shade of the nearby tree fully covered her.

"Gee," commented Pater. "I've watched some tourists miss the target with all their arrows from ten metres. Let's go back to the maximum we're allowed to shoot at here. They don't want tourists killing any of the locals."

Again, Pater continued with his steady accuracy. T.A.'s arrows by contrast, although still hitting the large target board, were widely spread.

"I had expected you to miss the board by now. You're not bad at all," said Pater.

"Thanks. I'd feel more comfortable shooting at eighteen metres," hinted T.A.

Obligingly, Pater moved forward to the shorter range.

By the time they had shot fifty arrows, T.A. was feeling the strain in his shoulder muscle. It was also evident in the further diminishing of accuracy in his shooting.

"I think I've shot my lot for today," said T.A. with a grin. "If you can be bothered with my company I'd love to do it again."

"You're on," accepted Pater. "Same time tomorrow if you've got nothing else?"

"Sure."

T.A. left Pater continuing to shoot another round. As they walked back to the house he rubbed his right shoulder. Malou carried his bow and arrows. Fred, the little stray wire-haired terrier had appeared and began following them as he often did. He always seemed to appear from nowhere. Fred belonged to everyone, yet at the same time, to no-one. T.A. felt in his the pocket of his sweaty shorts and found a packet of boiled lollies. He tossed one to Fred. He sniffed it briefly before delicately picking it up and moving to the shelter of a tree. T.A. watched as he tossed his head back and chewed as though enjoying a special doggy delicacy. Malou stretched up, pulled T.A.'s head down to her level and kissed him on the cheek.

"Little boys, cowboys and Indians and dogs," Malou grinned as she spoke.

T.A. threatened her with his sticky fingers, and she ran off with him in close pursuit.

When they got home she massaged his back and shoulders as he lay nude on the bed. It gave considerable relief from the stiffness starting to take effect. Then, ignoring his sweat, she cuddled in and held him tightly. The soreness in his shoulders was soon forgotten in the pleasure of the love-making that followed.

He must have fallen asleep because he woke suddenly when the cicadas began their farewell commotion at sunset. He turned expecting Malou at his side but she was not there. He blinked his eyes a couple of times to get accustomed to the half light, pushed aside the mosquito net, then lowered his feet onto the cool wooden floor.

When he saw Malou sitting in the lounge gazing in a day-dream through the front window, he moved up beside her. She turned and gave him a big smile.

"You were snoring so loudly I couldn't sleep," she said.

"What? Me snoring?"

"Yes, you often do."

"When?"

"Often after we make love or if you're tired."

"Oh God no." T.A. was going to say that nobody else had told him that he snored and thought better of it. If he had said it, Malou would ask who else he had been sleeping with.

"Oh yes," she went on. "Didn't you know you snored?"

"Well, I haven't slept with anyone else, so who would tell me."

Malou looked with a hint of curiosity, maybe doubt.

"Come on," said T.A., "let's get ready for the restaurant." He did not want to discuss his snoring any further in case he made a slip.

"I'm ready," replied Malou.

In the next few minutes he showered, applied insect repellents, found the torches and gathered the keys. Then as usual he had to wait for Malou before they left for a few pre-dinner drinks.

Some familiar faces were already there. Graham was sitting at the bar on a stool next to Podgy, both enjoying their beer; their respective partners sitting nearby chatting away in one of the Filipino languages. They all turned and greeted Malou and T.A.

Graham was obviously not over his limit as he was talking clearly. Ness waved at them both and they returned her wave. She pointed in Filipino fashion, with her lips, toward the pool table to challenge T.A. Then pointed to her watch and signalled ten minutes with a flash of two hands. T.A. nodded his agreement. She would be taking a break in ten minutes.

The two young Swiss were in deep conversation with the scuba instructor. All three gave a wave as T.A. found a seat. Malou got the drinks from Ness and made her way to the table. Gunther, Di and their son Carlos entered the restaurant and went straight to the menu board. T.A. watched Gunther considering the options. He noticed Gunther's habit with his spectacles of pushing them back on his nose with his middle finger. The peculiarity was that he started with the finger at the tip of his nose then slid up the bony bridge as a guideline before it reached the frame of his glasses. He pushed the glasses back whether they needed adjusting or not. He made the adjustment three times while T.A. watched him study the board. Then he was distracted by the entry of the American Doug, his girlfriend Alona, and the little girl.

T.A. was feeling relaxed. They had settled back into the routine quickly. Being with the people here was like being among people he had known for years. Yet the familiarity among the guests was never intrusive.

Ness had taken her break from bar duties and was standing at his shoulder.

"Go and get beaten by Ness at pool darling."

"Gee, thanks. I'll remember you later."

True to Malou's prediction, Ness beat him. Each time it was only just. T.A. knew that they were narrow victories only because Ness allowed it to be close. After the finish of the third game, Ness returned behind the bar and T.A. returned to Malou who was talking to Gunther and Di. They had already finished their meal.

"How about a round of golf tomorrow T.A.?" asked Gunther.

"I've got archery late in the afternoon, but the morning's fine for me. Nine holes with a fairly wild rough I've heard, isn't it?" answered T.A.

"Yeah. The kids from the barrio offer themselves as ball chasers so you won't lose too many golf balls if you pay them well."

"Jesus Gunther, you haven't seen my slice."

"Di is a better straight hitter than I am," Gunther replied. "I put several into the deep scrub today and only lost one ball thanks to the chasers. Go on, give it a go. Come and join us tomorrow morning, around 9:30 a.m."

T.A. looked at Malou.

"Go on," she said. "It might make me laugh. I'm not going to play though."

"O.K., you've got a date Gunther. 9:30A.M. if lazy-bones here can get up in time."

Malou gave him her dirty look.

"Shall we order something to eat now?" said T.A. trying to change the subject.

"We'll let you eat in peace," said Gunther, hitching his glasses back up on his nose. T.A. smiled.

"Sure, we'll see you tomorrow."

Gunther and Di took up some vacant seats at the bar.

A young Filipino couple that they'd seen the previous day were sitting at the table next to them. They were joined by two other young Filipino males. T.A. watched Malou looking at the taller handsome new male arrival as he sat at the next table. Her mind was obviously racing off somewhere else. T.A. mocked clearing his throat to get her attention but she continued to stare at the newcomer.

"Ready to order?" asked T.A.

She snapped her head back to look at T.A.

"What?"

"If you can get your eyes off the man at the next table are you ready to order?"

"What man?"

T.A. knew it was no good telling her what she was doing. She would deny it.

"Nothing," he said. "Let's eat."

T.A. signalled the waitress who came over. They ordered on her recommendation. Malou said a few extra quiet words to the waitress in Tagalog. T.A. watched the waitress's eyes go to the table that the four Filipinos were sitting at before she answered. Then she moved off to get the cook started on their order.

"Well?" asked T.A. "Did you find out anything about who he is?"

"Who?"

"The good looking guy at the table next to us."

"What good looking guy?"

"Oh, stop talking crap. You asked the waitress about the people at the next table."

"I was not. Why don't you ask the waitress when she comes back."

T.A. knew it was no good trying to argue or to check out Malou's story with the waitress. The waitress would not contradict Malou.

"It would be nice if you were honest with me. I'm not totally stupid," said T.A.

"If you mean him," she said looking at the Filipinos at the next table, "he's ugly."

"Yeah, forget about it," snapped T.A. He remembered one of the reasons why he and Malou had never made that final commitment. He did not trust her. Lies flowed too easily off her tongue.

The rest of the evening was spent in silence between them. When Malou thought T.A. was not looking, she would sneak a glance at the Filipino.

T.A. watched the German couple arrive late. They acknowledged his "Hello" with a nod of the head and sat down to immediately order their dinner.

When T.A. and Malou finished dinner he left Malou sitting at the table and went to join Pater who had arrived at the bar. Pater was drinking with Podgy, Gunther and Graham. T.A. was content just listening, not contributing anything to the conversation.

After a while Malou came up to him.

"Can I have the keys? I'm going back to the house to go to bed," she said.

The conversation stopped as she spoke.

"Hang on," said T.A., "I'll come back with you."

"No," she said, "you can stay here."

"Don't you want me to come with you?"

The others in the group politely started to resume their conversation as they could sense a domestic problem was happening.

"Do what you want to do," she said.

T.A. could not be bothered arguing and stood up to leave.

"I'll see you tomorrow morning for golf Gunther." Then, looking at Pater, "If I don't lose my all my balls I'll see you for archery after that."

"O.K," replied Gunther with a grin. Pater too was grinning as he nodded.

Other "goodnights" were hurriedly bandied back and forth. Malou had already started back to the house instead of walking by his side as she normally would.

"Aren't we going to the hobie-cats tonight?" called out T.A. from ten metres behind her.

"Go by yourself if you want to."

It was the first night that T.A. could remember that they had broken the routine established on the previous visits, except for the night of the thunderstorm during the previous visit to the Island.

The rest of the night was spent in silence. T.A. fell asleep noticing that each was on the bed with their backs to each other, as far apart as the bed would permit them to be.

\---------

There were no pressures to do anything on the island. No organised games apart from the occasional restaurant events in the evenings. There was no pressure to take part.

Most organised events, apart from the weekly toad races could pass by unnoticed. The toad races required the clearing away of the tables and chairs to make room for a large circle to be drawn in chalk. The centre-point was the middle of the restaurant. Guests were encouraged to bid for the labelled toad of their choice, based on their preliminary assessment made when individual toads were temporarily released and encouraged to show their "racing form". Each toad was named after it has shown its form; then listed on the menu board. Bidding then took place.

It was a winner take-all event. No second or third prizes. The winning toad was the first to reach the outside of the circle from the centre where they were simultaneously released. Days later, quite a distance from the resort, some were still wearing race labels.

Neither T.A.or Malou ever won money on the toads. Malou, after her initial fear and repugnance of them, soon got over it. Then, after the toads were released, Malou would snatch one up off the ground and try and stuff it down T.A's shirt when he was not looking. He never got over his revulsion of them and his running away from a toad-carrying Malou always brought a chorus of laughter from watching guests and screams of enjoyment from Malou.

Of the guests, they only spent time with Gunther and Di. Even then was limited to a couple of rounds of golf and an impromptu game of organised baseball.

T.A. enjoyed his short archery sessions with Pater. Though T.A.'s shoulder would still ache after only a few rounds, his accuracy was improving markedly. Pater was good company. Not too talkative. Not a waster of words. Malou no longer accompanied him to the range passing the time doing her own thing.

She did not enjoy walking around the golf course either. Instead of accompanying Gunther, Di and T.A., she either stayed in the house or went to the restaurant. Because of that, T.A. only had three rounds of golf. Perhaps he was using Malou's lack of interest as an excuse not to play any more. T.A. was quite disgusted with his golfing efforts. Even allowing for the fact that he had not played for over ten years, it did little to placate his self criticism of his slicing, bad putting, and bad chipping. He was playing so few good strokes that even the occasional sweet drive he made did not atone for all the bad strokes which dominated his rounds. His archery affected shoulder was not helping his swing either.

On one occasion they joined Gunther, Di and Carlos on a short hobie-cat sailing jaunts. T.A. did not feel comfortable with Gunther's sailing skills. He wondered if he could survive lost somewhere in the Pacific simply because Gunther could not get them back to land. Gunther seemed to handle the yacht his unique way yet still managed to get them back. Their intended one-hour sailing took more than two hours. Even Malou seemed nervous about it and they skipped the offer of a second trip.

However Malou enjoyed being a passenger on the back of the jet skis. It took an age for her to learn to lean into a turn and not try to counter-balance. They took several tumbles from the virtually non-capsizeable craft which Malou preferred to call "water motor-bikes". T.A. did not bother to argue.

The restaurant and resort saw a lot of "short-termers" come and go within a night or two. Those that T.A. felt were "long-termers" like himself and Malou, always chatted freely with other "long-termers." Graham maintained the same routine day in and day out. Sober in the morning, a little intoxicated by mid-afternoon, and obnoxiously and abusively drunk by the evening.

Gunther had an ability to drink himself to a state where he seemed to get no further drunk than he had achieved by early evening. Di merely showed her disgust by giving Gunther a black steely-eyed look when he made an alcohol affected statement.

The young Swiss men kept to themselves apart from talking to the resident Swiss diving instructor. They freely mixed with everyone when restaurant games were being played then reverted to keeping their own company.

The more T.A. saw of Podgy the more he liked him. Podgy was the perfect example of why people should not be judged by their appearance. His bear-like mass that frightened people on first sight covered one of the most caring and thoughtful people that T.A. had ever met. Initially Podgy's words seemed gruff and hard. He was simply a man of few words. The long-termers saw through the facade because of the familiarity that time breeds being in such a small area. His gruffness was soon recognisable as an economy with words. His actions were more demonstrative of his true meaning. Most of the long-termers liked Podgy, and even the resident ex-pats invited him into their after-dinner drinking circle. He would merely have a couple of drinks before returning to sit at the bar with his shadow Ruth sitting equally silently beside him.

Various groups of Japanese came and went. They always kept to themselves. T.A. was never really aware which group was which.

Some Filipino guests always seemed to be present, mostly for only of a couple of days, though the group of arrivals that included the tall good looking Filipino who caught Malou's eye had been around for over a week. She had not made any obvious attempts to speak with him, as far as T.A. knew, but her eyes always followed him whenever he was around.

Other arrivals that had stayed longer included the two Arabs that he had seen on the bus. They seemed to be spending a lot of the time walking around the island on a fitness kick instead of relaxing like most of the others. The German girl, Heidi, with her fit looking male companion, seemed more laid back in holiday mode, though they never took part in the restaurant games. T.A. had once seen them from the golf course. They were standing on the highest point of the island. They were not overly talkative, which T.A. put down to their lack of confidence in English. It appeared that their typical stoicism was even present when they took out the jet skis. They did not seem to be getting any enjoyment from the rides even though they were the biggest users of the skis in an almost daily circumnavigation of the island.

T.A. suggested a game of tennis to Malou but she was not interested. He did not want to challenge anyone else in case they were too good. He did not want to have to play a hard game.

They soon lost track of the days, even the time of day. He had long since put his watch away. Time was irrelevant. They ate when they were hungry and slept when they felt like it. T.A. had totally slipped into holiday mode.

The only thing that they did with almost unbroken consistency was their secret slipping away to the comfort of the trampoline in the dark after the evening meal.

There they watched the stars through Nature's clearest skies, and the occasional fire-fly seeking its partner. Sometimes they watched thunder activity kilometres away over the mainland which somehow left their island untouched. When the skies were clear of cloud, as they were on most nights, they watched the frequent falling stars. T.A. had made many wishes on the stars falling over Apuao Grande on previous visits. None had ever come true.

# CHAPTER 19

## OPERATION HOLIDAY BEGINS

### APUAO GRANDE ISLAND, CAMARINES NORTE. SATURDAY, APRIL 17

T.A. and Malou were surprised at the large number of people at the restaurant for dinner. The weekends generally resulted in an influx of "short-termers". Extra tables had been brought in. Some were joined together for the large group of Japanese men and their Filipino partners who had arrived on Friday. Even without the Japanese counted, there were still noticeably more guests than earlier in the week.

These "weekenders" were upsetting the peace and tranquillity he normally felt about his little paradise, as though extras were trespassing. Long stayers were acceptable.

The first familiar faces they spotted were Doug and Alona with their daughter at one of the tables in the narrow strip between the bar and the southern outside wall. Seldom used it was only in use because of the extra guests. T.A. looked to the main area. There were no empty tables there either. All the seats around the bar were occupied.

"What do you want to do?" asked T.A.

"Look," said Malou pointing to the end of the bar, "there's Gunther and Di. Let's join them."

As they made their way, T.A. noticed Podgy seated on his usual bar stool. As they approached he turned around and gave T.A. a grin.

"G'day you two," he said, "too many bloody strangers in our little paradise eh?"

T.A. let Malou walk on ahead. She stopped after a couple of paces when she noticed Ruth, and began talking to her.

"Yeah," responded T.A., "Just what I was thinking. I guess the management will be happy. It must be a full house."

"Is Malou still enjoying the break?"

"Yes, off and on. It depends on her mood. What about Ruth? You know you've got a nice lady there!"

"Yep. It's my second visit to see her. This time we've been together for five weeks. I'm supposed to be goin' back to Sydney in a week. I don't wanna go back without her."

"That sounds good, if it means what I think it means. Does it?"

"Yeah. I reckon it does. We'll go back to Manila on Monday, contact the Embassy and see what I've gotta do about gettin' her back to Australia. If I've gotta go back without her I don't know what the hell I'll do. I'm near retirement. I could retire straight away if I wanted. I don't want to be away from her. If I have to, I'll sell the house and come over here to live."

"No, don't sell the house. Come back here to live with her for six months to prove a de facto relationship. Do it. Just rent your house out until you can both return to Australia. The divorce law's crazy here. Otherwise, normally, you could've got married."

"Yeah," Podgy said rather despondently, looking at his stubby of beer in the polystyrene container. "I'm bloody well not leaving here without her."

Podgy had already begun to imagine his fight with bureaucracy. He was already frightened of the possible result. T.A. felt ashamed remembering his initial analysis of Podgy when he first saw him on the banca. He had been so wrong.

"We'll swap addresses before you go Podge, I'd like to keep in touch. I really mean that."

"Yeah, I'd like that too."

T.A. looked at Malou as she looked at him. He touched the sitting Podgy on the shoulder.

"It'll all turn out O.K. We're going to see if we can find a seat."

"Yeah. I'll see you later."

As T.A. grabbed Malou's arm, he gave Ruth a wink. He noticed that she too looked sad. Malou touched Ruth's arm in reassurance before Malou let T.A. lead her away.

T.A. leaned over to speak in Malou's ear as they walked.

"Gee, that looks like a sad couple of people."

"Yes, Ruth is worried because they only have a week left. Podgy hasn't said anything about taking her with him. She said he's just gone quiet in the last few days and not even wanting to talk to her."

"Oh Hell. So she doesn't know what's worrying him then,"

"No, what is it?"

"He's scared to leave her."

"Why doesn't he tell her?"

"I guess he doesn't want to get her hopes up. Remember she has three children that he'd have to get into Australia as well as her."

T.A. noticed Helmut and Heidi at a dining table near the bar, about to start a meal of battered fish and chips.

"Helmut," said T.A., "the chips are bad for your heart, and they'll ruin Heidi's figure."

The German couple seemed to force their smile, nodded a response and went on eating.

T.A. moved on and whispered to Malou, "Even they seem to be less talkative. Must be all these interlopers upsetting everyone."

"What's an interloper?" asked Malou.

"I'll tell you later."

When they reached Gunther and Diana, Gunther stood rather unsteadily and offered Malou his seat. As he looked at Diana, she looked daggers at Gunther showing her obvious disapproval of his state.

"I'm in the shit again T.A.," offered Gunther in a strong alcohol affected accent. Then with a smile, "Di reckons I'm drunk."

"Well," responded T.A. in jest, "you know you can't argue with a woman."

Malou now looked blackly at T.A. after hearing his response.

T.A. raised his eyebrows at Diana, "Hello Di. Is he out of control again?"

"Just the same as usual," she grinned back.

Malou and Diana started off gabbling away in their own dialect, effectively excluding and ignoring both the men.

"Entering the pool tournament?" slurred Gunther.

"Might be fun. Is it the one with two balls over each pocket and you try to sink them with the least shots?"

"I think so. Di's already put her name up. Why don't you? Twenty dollar prize in food or drinks. Put your name on the blackboard next to the dart board. Not many in it yet. Di reckons I'm too drunk to try."

"Yeah, might as well." T.A. moved away to the slate next to the dart board and wrote down his initials. When he returned Gunther handed him a San Miguel stubby.

"If anybody who rings the bar bell tonight it'll cost a fortune." said Gunther.

"Quite a few staying over by the look of it," responded T.A. "It's too late for them to go back by banca now."

"The girls seem to be O.K. talking. Do you want to go down to the beer hut on the beach?" suggested Gunther.

"Yeah. Why not? I'll tell Malou and get her to call when there's a free table."

While he was telling Malou, Gunther grabbed two extra stubbies. Malou just rolled her eyes and said nothing. As they neared the beer hut, T.A. noticed it too was crowded. Graham was there a bit earlier than usual. Adela, his faithful little woman, was dutifully waiting nearby and talking to another Filipino girl that T.A. had not seen before. Ben, the manager, and the two young Swiss men were talking to the Swiss dive-master and his Filipino diving-assistant. There were a few other Europeans that T.A. had not seen before. The little table was crowded with empty beer bottles, full ash trays and cigarette packets. Even the nearby seats made out of old truck tyres were occupied.

When they arrived, greetings were offered all around, and then conversation just carried on seemingly uninterrupted. T.A. did not feel part of this small talk. Gunther had already become engrossed in conversation with the Swiss, so T.A. walked alone down to the beach. It was not quite low tide, but nearly. There were not noticeably any more bancas than usual pulled up on the sandy beach or more than usual larger ones at anchor offshore, despite the increased patronage.

One of the hobie-cats was beached fifty metres south and to the left of the beer hut, just short of the overhanging tree. The other two were just to the right and north of the beer hut. Tonight they would use the distant southerly one. He and Malou could lie back and watch for falling stars.

Though much of the time lying on the hobie-cat trampolines was spent in silence, he still enjoyed it. He had not come to any decision yet. He almost envied Podgy's dilemma. At least Podgy felt certain about his emotions.

He was not sure how long he had been standing there when he became conscious he was not alone. He turned to see Malou had silently joined him. She took his empty hand into hers without saying anything. Together they stood silently for a few moments just looking out on the dimly lit ripples rolling onto the beach. He loved the silent togetherness that she somehow expressed. This silence was very different to those that happened when she was in one of her moods.

"Table ready?" asked T.A.

"Yes. Di's holding one and waiting for us. Gunther didn't know where you'd gone."

"Let's go then, I think this beer's made me feel hungry."

T.A. was hungry all right. He finished off a large T-bone steak and chips, then cleared up Malou's leftover kare-kare, a beef based dish. He had barely finished and sat back, when Jojo, one of the Filipino male staff who generally helped on the Swagman banca, came up to him.

"It's your turn to have your first round on the table. If you want, you can have both rounds straight away."

"Oh God," groaned T.A., "My guts are over-stretched with all that food. Oh well, I'm pretty bad anyway, but this full stomach isn't going to help."

"Come on, I'll watch," offered Malou.

"How did you go Di?" asked T.A.

"The cut off is thirty shots for two rounds, I took thirty-two."

"Well, my first target is less than thirty-two then. I can't lose face, otherwise the Japanese might make me commit Hare Krishna."

"Don't you mean Hari Kari?" asked Gunther.

"My way is less painful, and done singing silly songs."

T.A. made his way uncomfortably to the pool table. After taking twenty-two shots to sink the two balls paired over each of the six pockets, he knew he was not going to be a threat to the 'top guns'. So he finished his second round immediately, and was annoyed with himself for not playing better in the first round. His second round was a very commendable eleven, but the total put him over the thirty cut-off number. Worse, it was one behind Di. It seemed Malou's loyalties were a bit divided, because as soon as they returned to the table to rejoin Gunther and Di, she threw her arms around Di.

"You won!" Malou announced loudly to all who sat nearby.

Gunther laughed.

"Where's my drink?" laughed Di.

"Whoa, all of you," said T.A. "There's some question here about whether the judge took a bribe, and the results have been corrupted by ballot box tampering. But I'll buy you a drink anyway Di."

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

Helmut and Heidi left the restaurant at the usual time, between 9:30P.M. and 10:00P.M. They did not want to break the routine they had established over the previous few nights, even though it was a Saturday night. They wanted their Iranian and Filipino colleagues to take the cue from their lead and leave.

There was still a lot of preparation and preliminary work to be done between now and the 2:00A.M. start of the operation. Firstly was the meeting with the others at their house before each returned to their own hut for individual preparations. Heidi hoped no outsiders would see the arrivals at their house. Normally it would not be thought of as strange. But Heidi worried that their being seen together immediately before the take-over might be remembered after the event. That could upset the part of the plans dealing with the escape, or create a suspicion that the same group was also missing from the group of hostages.

Immediately they returned home, Heidi checked from the outside of the house to reconfirm that nothing inside the house could be seen.

Within minutes of her returning inside, there was a quiet tap on the back door.

"Ya, who is it?" Helmut asked, as though surprised at receiving guests at such a time.

"Aziz and Raji," came the response.

Helmut opened the door and they quickly entered. Heidi had come to like Aziz with his seeming quiet efficiency. Raji was even quieter. She had hardly spoken half a dozen words to him but judged him as well organised in his own thoughts and actions. She admired efficiency and fully trusted both of them.

This mission was turning out to be a surprise in several ways. In the matter of a few days she had met several people among the guests that she liked. Now she did not enjoy the thought that shortly she would be putting those guests' lives at risk.

There was another quiet tap at the door. Again Helmut asked the same question with the same feigned surprise.

"Boy and Dandan. Rico and Lorna have just come out of the jungle," was the response this time.

Again within seconds all four were inside.

"Anyone else around outside to see you arrive?" asked Heidi.

"No, we stayed behind outside to make sure nobody was watching," responded Rico.

"O.K. I know we've already covered everything in our previous meetings. I just want to go over a few things. Each of you must check your weapons and ammunition again. To begin, we'll have to neutralise the guard. He is not a genuine threat; I just don't want him wandering around loose while we're gathering up the hostages. I've noticed while there is something going on in the restaurant at night, he normally walks around outside, but very close. Sometimes he sits in one of the umbrella huts just beyond the lighting. When the manager has gone, and if someone is watching a video, he sneaks onto the back seats out of the light to watch. If there are several people in the T.V. room, he stands in the dark outside the windows where he can hear and see the T.V.

"Once everyone has gone to bed, he sleeps on one of the couches in the T.V. room. If he went missing, nobody would notice for hours. So we could tie him up a long time before the mission starts."

Everyone nodded their agreement before she went on.

"We must check if there are any others wandering around and not in their beds before we make the signals for the offshore party to land. A check on house lights should cover that. Most people seem to go to bed early. But tonight is Saturday, and they're having a pool table competition. So, nobody knows when the last guest will be in bed. The manager, Ben, doesn't expect the game to go on much after midnight, if it lasts that late.

"Now, I want your individual estimates of how many people are staying at the resort, both in the cabins and in the houses. If you think there are more or less than anyone else who gives a figure, then say so. We must be very accurate, especially in regard to where all the staff is sleeping tonight, and which houses all the ex-pats are occupying. Firstly, does everyone agree that the security guard tends to sleep on one of the couches in the T.V. area when everyone's gone?"

Everyone nodded agreement.

"Boy, you and Dandan, take care of the guard. Blindfold him; don't let him see your faces. After that, go straight to the meeting place on the beach where the tree overhangs. Except for Rico and Lorna, we all meet there."

Heidi looked toward Rico and Lorna. It was easy for them to play the part of husband and wife on this mission. That was what they were.

"I'll repeat what I want you two to do in a minute."

They nodded simultaneously. Heidi liked all of her little group, they were not too talkative. She wondered how she would feel after the main group joined them with the two disagreeable Libyans.

"O.K. Next, the Filipino staff. Boy, do you know where they are all staying?"

"Yes," responded Boy. "Apart from two of the girls, who are filling in the time staying with a couple of the ex-pats, one of the cooks goes back to the barrio. The others are staying in the Simpson house which is used as a sleep house when the Simpsons are away. That's the white house, the first one on the track on the right, the sea-side one opposite the Brooke house. The door isn't secured by lock because staff come and go all the time depending on what shift they're on. At night when the restaurant and bar are closed, there should be two male cooks and seven restaurant and bar staff there. The three office girls share nipa hut number 14, but one is not staying there at the moment, she's staying with the ex-pat Ronnie. The girl who runs the shop is from the barrio and goes back there every night."

"Good work. O.K., what else?" asked Heidi.

"The guard doesn't keep his pistol loaded. He carries three bullets wrapped in cotton wool inside a match box in his jacket pocket. He was quite proud to show me how quickly he could unwrap them and load his gun."

Heidi grinned as she looked at the others. They too were smiling.

"Do you know which ex-pats the two bar-girls are staying with?" asked Heidi.

"Yes, Ness is with Pater in the house at the south-end of the track. Annie, the one I mentioned, is staying with Ronnie in the house immediately next door to Pater's. Ronnie's wife has gone to visit her family in Manila for a month."

"Interesting? Is the general attitude of the local barrio still the same as you told me before?"

"Yes, you won't get any resistance from them as far as we can tell. I think they might help if you asked for it. Much of the income of the barrio comes from the resort spin-offs, but they still feel cheated and more than a little aggravated at Swagman's attitude to them. The same with the smaller barrio on Little Apuao. They have no idea of who we are or what we're here for. It seems that at least a few of them have taken an active role in NPA activities in the past. There certainly are several sympathisers."

"Good, now what are your thoughts on where the manager Ben is staying? Helmut and I believe he is staying in the large house, the second one back from the connecting spit to Little Apuao."

"Yes," responded Aziz. "I've followed him back to there a couple of times. I got up early one morning before the Swagman banca arrived with the day's supplies. He came out of there to meet the banca and looked as though he had just got out of bed."

Heidi continued.

"The scuba diver instructor and his wife are staying in the house above where the scuba boat is kept. Because he is Swiss, and has been living in the Philippines for several years, we must be careful where and when we speak. He speaks several European languages, as well as a couple of Filipino languages. Their house is at the most northern end of the island near the Spit. It's past the house where the manager is staying.

"One important thing is, we have to make sure that the dive boat is disabled. Not destroyed, we may need to use it. I suggest removing the distributor cap and hiding it. We might need to use it in a hurry.

"The same thing applies to the power boat they use for water skiing. It's mostly anchored in the bay near the tennis court. Sometimes it's pulled up on the grass. They are both fast. At the first opportunity, make sure they are fully fuelled. Also put a chain and extra padlock on the shed next to the beach bar to make sure nobody gets access to the three jet skis. Later, make sure they're fully fuelled. We might need to use them too.

"Rico, I want you and Lorna to begin watching the barrio as soon as you're prepared. I just want someone to make sure there isn't anyone sneaking around from there.

"Helmut will have two groups with him to handle the boats, the manager, the scuba diver and anyone else in those homes. He will leave one group near the connecting spit to Little Apuao. The barrio there is on the far side of Little Apuao so they can't see what is going on.

"I'll take two groups to gather people from the private homes along the track. Thankfully only ten of the other fourteen private homes are occupied including the one occupied by the staff. According to my last count, that's twenty adults and four children. Ten non-Filipino men, ten Filipino women, and the four children are all mestizas. Add to that the nine staff in the Simpson house. Do those numbers seem right?"

They all nodded in agreement.

"Boy, how many people are staying overnight in the restaurant nipa huts?"

"Twenty-eight of the huts are occupied. It seems that there are seventy two people altogether, including six children. That's made up of thirty-seven non-Filipino males, four non-Filipino women and twenty-six Filipino women. Three of the six children are non-Filipino. I'm excluding two babies from the numbers."

Again nods of agreement followed.

"Boy will have four groups to round up the hostages in the huts. Aziz and Raji will have two groups to control the hostages as they're delivered to the restaurant. After they've all arrived you can hand over to the group with the Libyans. Then go to the positions I suggested to set up the defences.

"Dandan, you take a group to the barrio for Rico and Lorna. They can help watch and prevent anyone we miss trying to get to the barrio. Then come back and take over one of the groups from Boy," she continued.

"Rico, don't disturb the locals, but if there's any shooting which rouses them, then you'll have to explain what is happening. Just make sure they don't interfere. Reassure them that they won't be involved if they stay at the barrio. The remaining group can stay with the bancas until all the hostages are gathered in the restaurant. The banca group can set up the first .50 calibre under the tree to cover the beach, and make sure nobody tries to get to the bancas."

"Any questions?" Heidi waited, and looked around at each of them in turn. Each nodded in the negative. There were no questions.

"Except for Rico and Lorna, we meet under the tree on the beach, no later than 1:30A.M. Boy, you and Dandan must have secured the guard before then. If there's anyone left in the restaurant, they'll have to be tied up too before the main group arrives. Aziz and Raji, don't forget to shave off all the hair on hands, arms and legs. "Everyone, put the clothes you are now wearing into a plastic bag ready to change back at the end of the operation and disappear.

"All our clothing for the operation must be correctly worn, including mask. Until we meet under the tree then, we all have our own preparations to make."

Helmut switched off the lights before he let the six out of the back door. After switching them back on, he looked at Heidi and nodded.

"Das ist der Anfang," he said.

"Yes, so it begins," she replied.

# CHAPTER 20

## DIVERSIONS

### APUAO GRANDE

After the pool competition ended with a victory to a Frenchman who had arrived a couple of days before, the restaurant emptied quickly. Although there had been a gradual drift away all evening. T.A. was amazed at the amount of beer that Gunther could consume without collapsing.

At 11:30P.M. Malou began her private little signals to him that she was ready to go. T.A. felt of a similar mood, so they made their goodnights before walking to the front of the restaurant for their nightly visit to the hobie-cats. Gunther and Di followed them out the front but stopped at the still-occupied beer hut for one of Gunther's nightcaps.

Nothing had to be said between Malou and T.A. They had missed very few evening visits to the trampoline in their holiday visits to the island. They automatically headed for the hobie-cat furthest away from the beer hut. Within minutes they were lying silently side by side on the trampoline, faces up, looking at the stars. T.A. was feeling the nice cool freshness of the sea-breeze and made no effort to fight the sleepy feeling of his brain.

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

### Mt. KANLAON, Island of Negros.

Warvic sat beside Suraido Arompak trying to disguise her nervousness as the 2:00A.M. deadline approached. It seemed strange to be sharing this event with Suraido. The moon's light was enough to clearly distinguish faces. She looked at Suraido sitting on the cogon grass and leaning against a tree. His eyes were open but his stare showed his mind was somewhere else deep in thought.

Suraido was pondering how he had come to be here. He realised the chance of Warvic's fulfilling her promise for a separate Muslim state were part of her selling technique for the total plan. It was not likely to be achieved this time. An independent state for the Muslims was not just some dream, it would come. So far it was a lack of real opportunity. At least this action of Warvic's NPA was a step in the right direction. He agreed with her tactics that discrediting the Government and Armed Forces in the eyes of the world would, in the long run, mean a chance of achieving everyone's independence goals sooner than under any previous tactics tried. Though he had been seduced and tricked into supporting her plan, he also felt a truly and totally nation-wide uprising was an event he could never have achieved by himself, even with the help of the other Muslim groups.

He admired Warvic achieving what he could not achieve, the unification of all the Muslim factions, even if only temporarily. If it could happen once, then, given the right incentive, it could happen again.

After discussions Warvic had with each of the Muslim faction leaders, Suraido never thought it possible to achieve the co-operation and unification that subsequently ensued. He remembered the early days after the discussions. There seemed little chance of any follow-up, let alone agreement on assistance and cooperation of the faction leaders.

He was therefore surprised at being requested to attend a meeting with the leaders of the extremist and MNLF group a week after Warvic had managed to meet alone with them. If he had attended with her it could have been thought of as collusion. But as he had not been seen as linked to Warvic's plan in any way, he was being treated as independent. He smiled as he remembered when the MNLF discussed the plan with him. It was as if they were trying to convince him of the advantages of it for the whole Muslim movement. He pretended to be a less than totally willing participant, only yielding entirely when they said that they could convince all the other factions to join the plan. Immediately the MNLF accepted, the other fringe groups followed suit.

The unprecedented agreement amazed him. He was requested to be the go-between the NPA and a selected few others to keep them informed on the progress of the plan. He virtually had a free hand. He was to liaise through this small group for assistance or approval in general areas which might affect the Muslim groups. They agreed that the less people who knew of the plans, the more likely it was to succeed. There was less chance of a leak.

When they received his request for manpower to train in Libya, it was a surprise. It was also seen as an immediate benefit to the overall cause and their individual groups, even if they had to contribute to the financing of it. It was also seen as evidence of Suraido's good faith that he was spreading the benefits of training fairly around all the groups, not just his own. This was an area Warvic had been insistent about. Military training for all groups would counter the normal fragility that she recognised in the Muslim cause. It had held so far.

Stranger still, and certainly more fragile, was the alliance between Catholics and Muslims. The anomaly that some Muslim funds were financing military training and supplying some weapons to Catholics, did not pass Suraido's thoughts without deep concern. That alliance too was holding, so far.

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

### Mt. KANLAON, Island of Negros.

Warvic was wondering why she was waiting up. There was nothing that she could do now. Dozens in the camp were also awake. Many had portable radios, tuned to dozens of different radio stations, waiting for any news that might suddenly break into the overnight music. She doubted any messages would be transmitted from resorts in the first few hours. None were scheduled. But it was probable that radio stations would immediately report the attacks on the military establishments.

She wanted the groups at the resorts to have time to establish themselves before any external military intervention could eventuate. Local resort security should not prove any obstacle or opposition, even though at some resorts, as on Boracay, security was quite substantial. That security was aimed more at preventing the local population from taking advantage of the vulnerability of the tourists, and preventing the petty thefts.

Many of the guards, although carrying pistols, did not have any bullets in them. Often such guards were required to pay for ammunition themselves. An ammunition allowance was frequently paid, but it was generally spent on more essential things such as food for the family. Warvic planned to give the groups several hours to consolidate their positions, and organise their defences.

Just before 2:00A.M. throughout the country, outside seventy military bases of various sizes, her people were getting ready for action. Private covered trucks, private and hired jeepneys, which had temporarily closed in their sides and back doors, were now rolling back the coverings. All were carrying mortars and were ready to fire off between six and fifteen mortar rounds into the bases in as short a time as possible. Then they would leave the area immediately, hide the mortars and disperse all personnel involved. The signal for the shelling to start at each base was to be pillion passengers on motor cyclists hurling grenades over the fences before racing off to safety at maximum possible speed.

By having such a widespread attack, Warvic wanted the Armed Forces to think it was an all out assault on all the bases throughout the country. This should cause the Armed Forces to take a defensive posture until they established the extent of the opposition they were facing.

The AFP reactions would be to ready themselves for further attacks. Warvic knew there would be none.

It would also get world attention very quickly. The AFP would learn soon enough about the tourist resort takeovers, but any attempts to investigate would be delayed by their defensive posture for several hours. Then they would be hamstrung by the uncertainty whether there would be further attacks on their bases.

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

### 1:55A.M., Outside CAMP CRAME, Quezon City, Metro Manila.

Manuel Cruz nervously fidgeted with the tarpaulin string at the back of his jeepney. With the sides of the jeepney closed in like this it was like taking a sauna. He had read about saunas in an old Readers Digest magazine he had been given. As well, it was making him feel claustrophobic. Sitting and waiting this close to the huge Army base with the incriminating presence of a 66 mm mortar and eight shells he felt was inviting trouble, probably summary execution, if the patrolling Military Police decided to stop and check his jeepney.

The orders were clear. Arrange for two other covered jeepneys to operate in conjunction with his. Organise ten motor-cyclists each with pillion passengers to ride past fences and gates at 2:00A.M., each pair tossing two grenades at any guard posts or gun emplacements inside and near the fences, then to get away as quickly as possible. Thirty seconds after these explosions he was to launch his eight mortar shells the pre-measured 230 metres to the barracks. Though he was 150 metres away from the perimeter fence, it still seemed too close. The side street that he had chosen to wait in, with the rear of the jeep pointed to the Army camp, gave him his best escape route.

The explosion of grenades and the high pitched engine roar of several Japanese motor-cycles brought him back to his senses. He looked at his watch. "Dammit," he thought as he realised his watch had stopped at 1:56A.M. The grenade explosions continued as he jumped into action. He tried to roll up the rear tarpaulin at the back of the jeepney. It proved to be more awkward than normal. Perhaps it was because he had to work around the mortar base he had painstakingly bolted to the floor of the jeepney. By the time he had finished with the tarpaulin, the smaller grenade explosions had stopped. Just as suddenly, heavier explosions from his colleagues' mortar rounds were exploding inside the base.

He could hear distant yelling from the Army base. Sliding the two boxes containing the mortar shells along the seat to the back of the jeepney, he quickly re-checked the calibrations that he had checked several times before. Inserting the tail of the first shell gently into the barrel he paused for a three count then let it slide down on the firing pin. He kept his head low and was surprised that the sound of it firing was less than he imagined it would be.

Before the first shell exploded at its target he was inserting the second into the barrel. The first shell exploded just as the second was beginning its flight to the camp. He now worked with controlled panic, pushing his need to get away as soon as possible. From the number of explosions he could hear, the other jeepneys were also doing their job.

Manuel was surprised with the speed he fired the shells, that he lost count. He was flooded with relief when there were no more. He dropped the tarpaulin, ran to the front of the jeep, leapt into the driver's seat and pulled away as soon as the engine jerked into life. As he readied to turn left at the T-junction a few metres from his firing point, he cast a quick glance into the wing mirror. He could only see the red glare of the fires that had begun.

Two blocks later, he felt relaxed enough to reach for a cigarette, and thought about how he was going to dispose of the bulky mortar. The boxes he would simply paint over and use as a cage for his prized fighting cock. Having sorted those things away in his mind, it suddenly dawned on him what he had done.

"Holy Mother of God, I've just attacked the Philippine Army!"

As he continued his drive to safety he laughed and talked aloud to himself.

"That was more fun than shooting the soldier on the jeepney," he thought. Grenades and mortars did make a bigger mess.

Manuel Cruz did not know he was only one grain of sand in the bucket. By the time he heard tomorrow's radio news he would know what his few grenades and mortars could do when repeated by hundreds of other jeepneys and motor-cycles nation-wide.

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

Some bases were being subject to greater bombardment than others. The only differences being the number of mortars and grenades used in the attacks, not in the amount of time involved. All the attacks lasted less than four minutes from the time the first grenades were thrown over the fences to the last of the mortar rounds.

The major bases were being targeted by around thirty mortars. At those, over three hundred mortar shells would rain down on some targets in less than four minutes. That was in addition to the opening salvo of dozens of grenades in the first few seconds.

Warvic had selected, as the main targets, the Department of National Defence and General H.Q. of the Philippines Army E.D.S.A. at Camp Gen. Emilio Aguinaldo, and the nearby Camp Crame, General H.Q. of the Philippines Constabulary. Both were in Quezon City. Some few others would be receiving only slightly less bombardment. The composite H.Q. of the Armed Forces of the Philippines at Fort Bonifacio in Makati would be receiving the same amount of attention as the H.Q. in Roxas Boulevard in Manila.

Targets at Nichols Air Base, General H.Q. of the Philippines Air Force, and Villamor Air Base, both in Pasay City, were to be hit with incendiaries as well in the hope that some aircraft, preferably helicopters, would be destroyed. It was the Air Force that Warvic felt most endangered her resort strategy. If equipment could be destroyed by fire, it may slow their response time.

Not only Metro Manila was being hit. Major Air, Naval, Army and Constabulary bases were being bombarded everywhere. Wherever possible, damage to helicopters was designated as the main target ahead of buildings. Any opportunities for inflicting damage on the smaller naval vessels were to be taken advantage of.

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

Mt. KANLAON, Island of Negros.

By 2:15A.M., nothing had been heard on any of the personal radios. Warvic's uneasiness had grown as night progressed. She noticed she had been tearing off the tops of her fingernails - a habit she had stopped about twenty years before. If only she had given up smoking at the same time she had stopped chewing her nails she would be fitter now. Her legs would not be aching either as they were.

She hated this feeling after the long trek into the high and remote hills of Negros. This location was probably the safest place to be. The NPA was probably stronger here than any other place in the Philippines at the moment. The local commander boasted of being able to field 7,000 supporters, all of which he could arm at a moment's notice. Many were already armed and living in the hills. They were fed from the unofficial taxes they levied on locals, mostly in the form of rice or other basic foods.

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

The island of Negros had undergone a boom, then bust economy. As the main sugar producer of the Philippines, it, or rather the sugar barons had benefitted enormously from the USA boycott of the Cuban sugar industry after Castro had taken over. The USA had virtually totally replaced its previous supplier with Filipino sugar by the mid 1960's. But the plunge in sugar prices from 1976 to the mid 80's, through the combined effects of overproduction and a cutback in USA imports, caused tens of thousands to lose their jobs after factories closed.

Starvation and death ravaged most of the community. Some blamed food shortage; others blamed lack of sanitation or education about nutrition. Whatever reason, Negros proved fertile ground for rapid expansion of the Communist Party of the Philippines (CPP) and their armed wing, the New Peoples Army (NPA). The CPP basically followed the Maoist line with a Filipino flavour. By the mid 1980's the NPA of Negros had been credited by the Government as having 130,000 active supporters, a high figure out of a total population of just in excess of three million for the island of Negros.

Instead of the CPP consolidating their position, internal power struggles between hard-liners, moderates, and the effects of infiltration by Government agents, had diminished its rapid growth. Expansion was further restricted by the capture of the NPA island commander, Nemesio Demafiles, on March 8, 1989. Aquino's promises of early land reform also dented the CPP aims of creating a revolutionary situation.

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

2:30A.M. came and went. Warvic began to wonder if what she had planned had fizzled out to nothing. Maybe it was all just a dream. Warvic was fluent in Ilongo, the main language of Negros, and felt quite at home among the former followers of Nemisio. She had held Nemisio in awe during her previous visits to Negros. On her earliest visits she had felt unashamedly embarrassed and unworthy when he had deliberately sought her out for private discussions about her ideas. His encouragement of her free and independent thinking had been instrumental in her continuation of being her own person.

For this operation she was using a variation of a tactic which had been used by Nemisio. He tried a "human shield" plan which put the civilian population at great risk from counter-attacks from Government forces. Nemisio was sure that if innocent civilians were in the middle ground between his soldiers and the Government forces, the Government forces would not risk the lives of civilians.

Over the following months, to his horror and dismay, the Government Forces ignored the presence of civilians, shooting them, as if they were all Nemisio's followers. The Marcos Government manipulated the press so the world at large never learned about the Government troops slaughtering tens of thousands of civilians. It was barely reported in local papers. The actions of the troops were never able to be exploited by any Marcos opponents because the incidents were sanitised and changed before reaching outside Negros let alone outside the country. The outside world never heard about it, so, no foreign Government ever expressed its revulsion at the action by Marcos's forces.

Warvic had studied Nemisio's tactics. They had not worked for him because of a lack of public awareness of the consequences. That was because Negros was isolated from the major news centres. But this same "human shield" tactic had protected General Ramos and Senator Enrile in Manila when they overthrew the Marcos regime. The difference between the two circumstances seemed to be the presence of a world press as to the existence of a "human shield". Warvic's tactics were different. Her "human shield" was mostly foreigners. Slaughter of them could not be hidden from the outside world.

A member of the large group gathered outside jumped up, excitedly waving his radio.

"Cebu radio is reporting an armed attack on Camp Lapulapu. The announcer said there will be more details to follow."

A cheer went up. It was as if a steam valve had suddenly been released.

Another listener suddenly yelled out, "Quiet, this report says that the Naval Base in Cavite City is being shelled from the sea."

More cheers rang out.

Warvic allowed herself a big smile; then laughed. "Hell," she said, "they don't even know where the mortars are coming from."

"Maybe someone fired some mortars from a banca," proffered Suraido.

"Camp Lapulapu on Mactan Island was heavily hit, and several planes have been destroyed," called out the first good news deliverer. "And the announcer said heavy damage has also been reported from Basa Air Base in Lipa City."

More cheers and applause followed. Warvic joined in, but was mystified at the lack of reports about action in Metro Manila. What could have gone wrong? As if in answer to her question a voice called out. "The radio reports attacks on military facilities throughout Metro Manila. The President is calling for calm, and asks all Filipino people to support the Government and the Armed Forces as they fight the armed invaders."

"Great," shouted Suraido, "they're so confused they think it's an invasion. They don't even know which country's invading them."

"I hope that's cleared up quickly. That's the one thing that would unite the Filipino people if they thought they were fighting against an invading army," responded Warvic.

"Perhaps the initial action has been too successful. Perhaps we should announce that they were our actions." She thought for a few seconds then went on, "No. We stick with our original plans."

Although Warvic knew she said this confidently, she did not feel as confident as she sounded.

Group members were calling out radio reports of attacks on dozens of different Armed Forces facilities. Each announcement was followed by cheers and applause. Some reports of attacks were coming from places where Warvic had not arranged attacks.

'Great,' thought Warvic, 'the power of suggestion has caused panic and uncertainty in some outlying AFP barracks.' Even if shooting at shadows had resulted, it did not matter. It reinforced her plan to sow as much confusion as possible throughout the country.

Reports flowed in almost non-stop now. As she came down from the initial elation of the early reports, she remembered these actions were only side shows to the main events. Those were being carried out behind the distractions of these attacks. She began to worry again, but was hoping the main events had gone as well as these side shows seemed to have gone.

# CHAPTER 21

## THE TAKEOVER

APUAO GRANDE ISLAND, SAN MIGUEL BAY, CAMARINES NORTE.

The guard was pleased the tournament finished earlier than he thought it would. Nobody had used the T.V. room to watch videos during the night, so he had just wandered around nearby, occasionally visiting his secret stash where the bottle of Tanduay rum was hidden.

Just before 12:30A.M., the last of the guests cleared the restaurant. By 12:45A.M., the last staff member had finished cleaning up and had gone. A quick check of the nipa huts showed all guests had turned off their inside lights for the night by 1:00A.M. The beach and beer hut were deserted. As usual the table of the beer hut was so full of empty bottles it looked like a bottle collection area. He made a quick check to see if all the bottles had been opened. Unfortunately they had, and no partly filled cigarette packets had been left behind. He knew from experience the part empty bottles already contained too many night insects drinking their fill.

After a long draw on his rum as a night-cap, he turned off the lighting in the bar and restaurant. Only the security lights and the beer hut spotlight were left on as usual.

The T.V. room lounges were very comfortable in comparison to the floor mattress he had to use in Daet at his brother's shack. He had been working as security guard in a bank in Daet for two years when he was approached with the offer to become security guard for the Swagman Resort on the Island of Apuao Grande.

This job offer was a once in a lifetime chance for a man in his position. Pay was good in comparison to the bank, but the free meals and accommodation was the most attractive feature. He lost out on normal sleeping patterns as he was the only guard on the island. To make up for this he had to adjust his body clock by snatching shorter periods of sleep when he could. He grabbed a few extra hours sleep during the day at the Simpson house where the other staff slept at night.

As he settled down on the T.V. lounge he slipped his gun-belt, holster and pistol under the lounge squab. He patted one of the cushions into shape and wished he could have more than the five hours' sleep available before 6:30A.M. At that time one of the cooks would wake him before the manager arrived.

He had just dozed off when he began having a bad dream. Something was holding him down. God! It was the python from the kitchen. It had him. He could not scream. It was over his mouth and held his arms. Next it was over his eyes. His consciousness, now fully awake, came to the fore. It was not the python but human hands holding him. His mouth and his eyes had both been taped. He was rolled onto his face, arms pulled together behind him at the wrist and tape quickly wrapped around them. Next he felt his ankles being taped and his legs pulled up his back. Who was doing this? Was it a staff prank? He could not see or hear anyone. His arms and legs had been pulled back so far it was painful. Just as quickly as it had happened the attackers had gone. Who was it? The tape over his eyes was painfully pulling his eyebrows. Was it someone from the barrio getting revenge for something he had done to them? If the manager found him like this he could be dismissed instantly. He would have to get free. How? He could not move.

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

Boy and Dandan arrived on the beach just before 1:30A.M. Although the others were already there it was difficult for them to see, even though the half was moon giving reasonable light. The dark loose camouflage costumes and hoods they were wearing made them invisible in the shadows.

"Everything O.K.?" whispered Heidi.

"Yes," replied Boy, "the guard slept through the whole thing. He stank of alcohol."

"Anybody else around?"

"No, we hid in the dark for thirty minutes, watching, before we tackled the guard. We watched the last guests leave the beer hut. After we tied the guard we checked the office, restaurant, kitchen, outside the nipa huts, and the beer hut again. We checked the beach on the way here. It's all clear and quiet, no sign of anyone moving around."

"Aziz has chained the storage shed for the motorised skis by the bar, so that's secure too. I hope everyone's been to the toilet; it might be a long time before the next chance. Now we can see if our friends are early and waiting offshore yet," said Heidi.

She took a small signal torch out of her loose fitting jacket ammunition pocket and attached the four colour kaleidoscope to its front. She made two long red flashes out to sea slightly north of where they were standing and waited for the hoped-for reply of two green flashes. Apprehension crossed her mind at the absence of an immediate response. Perhaps it had been called off. They had no way of knowing. That eventuality had not been covered. Even though they were in position earlier than needed, she wanted to allow extra time for unseen problems.

She tried again, still no response.

"Hell," she said to no-one in particular, "maybe they're late or waiting at the wrong island."

"Boy, are you sure the guard can't get free and raise the alarm?"

"Not in a week," he replied.

Her third and fourth attempts at signalling still did not draw any reply. As each minute passed she grew even more worried. Maybe they should not have neutralised the guard until offshore contact had been made. If the offshore party never arrived, they could have carried on their normal cover as if nothing had happened. The tying up of the guard meant they had started some actionable point of no return.

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

Something caused T.A. to stir. It sounded like chains rattling, but he dismissed it as the sound of some mysterious tree creature of the night. Again, he and Malou had dozed off on the trampoline. The cool breeze off the sea was more effective than the bedroom fan. He tried to check the time on his watch without disturbing Malou. The combination of moonlight and a poor light in his watch was insufficient. He could faintly hear voices and presumed he could not have been dozing for long. The voices would have to be coming from the beer hut where some late drinkers were still carrying on.

After he heard them two or three times, he realised that they were not coming from the direction of the beer hut. He rolled on to his stomach and lifted his head slightly. Looking to his right from where he thought the voices were coming, he could see nothing. He continued staring into the half-light for a few minutes. Maybe they were coming from one of the private houses and blown to his earshot by a gust of wind. There were no lights on that he could see. He knew sound travelled a long way in the quiet of the night, but this was ridiculous. He could not make out words, just aware of quiet talk.

Then he saw two long red coloured flashes from a torch about fifty metres up the beach and aimed slightly out to sea.

"Oh shit!" he said hushed to himself. "Somebody's smuggling drugs."

Malou stirred. As soon as she started to speak he put his hand over her mouth. She squirmed in protest and he clamped it harder.

"Quiet, something funny's happening," he said in a low voice.

"What's going on?" she replied in a whisper.

"I don't know, but I don't think we should let anybody know that we're here. And don't talk, even a whisper will carry."

They both lay, stomachs down, on the trampoline looking into the dark. Malou saw the next two red flashes and nudged T.A.

Both of them then looked out to sea, expecting some response. Yes, there it was, two long green flashes of light from a large unlit banca that they could just make out a couple of hundred metres offshore.

Both looked back to where they first saw the red flashes. Again there were two long red flashes, then two white flashes, and two green flashes. Back out to sea they saw a response of two green, two white and two red flashes. The shore responded with three green flashes. They heard the distant motor of the banca start up.

"What's happening?" asked Malou.

"Shhhh, I don't know. It's obviously not someth'n legal. I think we'd better just keep down and not be seen. If they're doing someth'n illegal like this at night then they'd think nothing of killing witnesses."

T.A. knew that he was feeling scared and was wishing they were at home safely in bed and ignorant of what was happening. He looked around and wondered if they could sneak away unseen. If he could not see who it was flashing the light, perhaps they would not see them either. Maybe he would try that later. But when he saw six darkened figures move out from under a tree only fifty metres away he was glad that he had decided not to move.

He looked to where he had seen the torch flashing out to sea and saw it was not one but three bancas moving toward the beach. They all seemed to be crowded with people carrying sticks. He put his arm over Malou partly to reassure her, but mostly to prevent her making any sudden movement that might give them away.

'God,' he thought, 'any drug operation this big they'd certainly leave no living witnesses.' He thought about hiding under the hobie-cat trampoline, but they were on the wrong side to easily slide underneath without causing the little yacht to move. Any movement would be multiplied ten times in the movement at the top of the upright mast.

The bows of the three incoming bancas nudged gently into the sand. Shadowy figures began jumping off the bows and both sides. T.A. noticed that the shadowy figures on the beach and those from the banca were all wearing full head masks and dark floppy camouflage clothes. It was not sticks they were carrying, but rifles or automatic weapons. He had mistaken the barrels for sticks.

He whispered to Malou, "While I try and keep the yacht and mast still, slide slowly and steadily over the stern end of the trampoline, that's the sea end. Get underneath."

Thankfully, she did not stop to argue the point. She followed his instructions. He was surprised at the little amount of movement she caused. He hoped he could glide his greater weight off as smoothly. As soon as she was underneath he began his own movement and froze when a strong torchlight flashed briefly in his direction from the landing party. It played briefly on the high hobie-cat mast as it swayed slightly. He buried his face painfully into what now seemed like a hard trampoline surface to hide the white reflection of his face. He did not know if the beam was as a result of something the intruders had heard or seen.

Immediately the torch beam switched off he hurried his scramble and was quickly alongside Malou on the sand under the trampoline. Their right side vision was now partly obscured by the hobie-cat outrigger. He realised if it was difficult for him to see out it would be even more difficult for these strangers to see then in the darker area under the trampoline. It did not make him feel safe, only less exposed than he previously felt. He was hoping the dark could hide them as effectively at it had from passing guests on previous nights. This was a deadly game of hide and seek. As yet, the seek part by these strangers had not started and he was hoping it never would. The penalty of being found might be death.

He whispered to Malou, "If any lights come our way, put you face in the sand, or turn it away to avoid reflected light." He felt she understood this and chose silence rather than replying. Soon there were several strong torch-lights playing up and down the beach. In tandem and like ostriches, they both buried there heads in the sand hoping it would all pass by without them being seen.

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

The tension in Heidi heightened in one area and diminished in another as the three bancas pulled in to the shore. She stood on the sand watching as the armed and hooded men jumped off the bows and forward sides of the bancas. For most it was a jump into the shallows. Some few took their jump too close to the stern and discovered too late that the water was over their heads.

The sight of men going into seawater with their weapons and ammunition going underwater with them made Heidi wonder what other stupid things could go wrong. The drenched weapons would have to be thoroughly cleaned and the ammunition individually dried to prevent jamming in the magazine. Thankfully the more precious cargo of missiles, flares, heavy machine guns and night binoculars were rapidly being off-loaded from the bows of the bancas.

Some of the small pre-organised groups were ready. Heidi assigned the first two to Helmut.

"Go Helmut, you've got the manager's house, the scuba diver and disable the boats. Quickly. No shooting. Prisoners to the restaurant, mouths gagged and hands tied. Check they can breathe through their noses though."

She knew the instructions were unnecessary for Helmut. It was to remind the other group leaders to think of their tasks.

Helmut signalled his group to follow him. They began their run north along the beach in the half moonlight, past the first of the hobie-cats. They had about four hundred metres to cover to the first of their house targets.

She grabbed Dandan, "Your group, take them to the barrio and leave them with Rico and Lorna. Then come straight back and join me along the tractor trail."

She noticed with satisfaction that he had already taken a pair of the night-binoculars from one of the new arrivals and was adjusting the straps as she spoke.

"We're gone," he answered, and started jogging southward down the beach to the barrio.

"Raji, change of plans. Instead of going to the restaurant, I want you to take a group and surround the staff in the Simpson house. Don't move in until we start on the other houses. Tape all mouths and hands once you move in. Remember to check they can breathe." She pushed him to the next group of five. "Now go!"

She looked anxiously around for the two Libyans, expecting them to have been vocal before now.

"Mohammed, Ali, where are you?"

"Behind you."

Heidi turned quickly to see the tall black hooded shapes. She had been unaware of their closeness and it made her feel uneasy. Worse, their being behind her raised her hackles.

"O.K. Go with Aziz, and set up positions inside and outside the restaurant to guard the hostages when they're brought in. As soon as each group arrives, take control of their prisoners and let the group get on with their second assignments. When the last hostages arrive take the tape from their mouths and their hands. If there are any troublesome ones, re-tape their hands. If they're talkative re-tape their mouths as well.

"Boy, split your four groups, one group for each set of huts. Give me five minutes from now to get to the furthest house then start entering the huts. Gather them in as quietly and quickly as you can. It'll take a couple of minutes to show your groups where they start. Now, go!"

Boy ran off followed by his large group.

Heidi turned to the remaining people on the beach. She waved her finger at four of them.

"Stay here and guard the bancas, the rest of you follow me." Suddenly she realised that they might not understand and she swung around. As if in answer to her problem, one of the two answered.

"We understand. We'll guard the bancas."

Relieved, she turned back to the rest of the group.

"Follow me!"

She headed off back past the overhanging tree where they had been waiting for the bancas to arrive. In less than a minute they were outside the furthest house, Pater's. She pointed to two men and motioned for them to take that one. Two others went to the house opposite where the missionary couple and their two children were holidaying. Taking the rest of the group a few yards, she pointed two more guerillas at another house.

Heidi realised that she was not going to have enough to cover the houses if she sent two into each of the ten occupied houses. It also dawned on her that she still had five men left in her group when she should have had only three. She had assigned four to guard the bancas. It was too late now to go back to the bancas. She could cover six of the ten houses anyway and it would only take seconds to have the hostages out of the first houses.

She pointed to two more houses and pushed two men toward each of them. Then running toward the Simpson staff house she called out quietly as she arrived at the front of the house.

"Raji."

A voice came from behind a tree only a metre away.

"I'm here."

"I need three or four of your men to cover two more houses."

"Psst," went Raji, and two others suddenly appeared less than five metres from where she stood.

"Go and get one of your friends from the back, quickly," said Raji.

One of the shadows ran around the back of the Simpson house and in seconds was back with a compatriot. Heidi pointed two of them at Bob's house and the remaining two at Ronny's. She accepted that there would still be two houses not covered. One was occupied by the Maddigan couple and the other by T.A. and his woman. But that could not be avoided; they would take them as soon as the first houses were emptied.

She was just about to yell 'go' when she heard screams and yelling in the distance from the guest nipa huts close to the restaurant. It had started. Instead of waiting for her yell, her assigned group immediately began crashing in doors. She thought of tackling the Maddigan house singly then remembered her accent would show her as being a non-Filipino.

Women's screams and men's yelling started behind her in the Simpson staff house. There had been no crashing of doors, simply walking in and waking the staff. Within seconds, the first of the hostages were pushed out of the front door, mouths and hands taped. Heidi tried to keep her eyes on the two uncovered houses to see if there was any reaction like lights being switched on. She could not resist quickly glancing in the direction of the hostages emerging from the Simpson house.

Automatically she started counting them and realised that several were totally nude, others only wearing a T-shirt. It was something she had not considered. She always went to bed clothed and the thought that others did not had not been part of her plans.

Although there was yelling coming from the other houses on the trail, Heidi noticed that there seemed to be more crashing than yelling coming from Pater's house. She ran toward it. She could clearly hear the booming sound of Pater's voice over the crashing noises from within.

As she prepared to jump up on the porch, a hooded figure crashed part way out through the now broken window stopping with his neck impaled and cut by the jagged glass still in the frame. The jugular vein spurted blood in her direction like an uncontrolled water-hose. She decided the close proximity called for her to use her pistol. She slung the M16 over her shoulder. Before charging in to the unknown, she glanced in through the door to see the massive nude frame of Pater trying to wrestle an M16 from the grip of one of her men being held on the ground from behind by Ness.

She stepped through the door and fired two shots into the ceiling. The struggling stopped immediately. She pointed the pistol directly into Pater's face. Heidi was a little startled at the hate emanating back from Pater's eyes. Her initial thoughts a few days ago about Pater being a possibly dangerous adversary were proving correct. She stepped back out of his possible reach.

"Freeze!" she screamed, hoping her monosyllable would not reveal any accent.

Pater's look quickly changed to one of surprise and then submission.

The looks on both Pater's and Ness's faces told Heidi that there would be no further resistance and they immediately released their holds on the prone guerilla who sprang to his feet. From his drenched clothing, he had obviously been one of those who had jumped from the wrong end of the banca.

"Down!" she screamed and instantly Pater and Ness dropped to the floor. It looked almost comical to see the two nude bums, one muscly white and the other small and very dark brown, side by side on the floor. Both bodies were square shouldered and muscular.

Another hooded Filipino came running in the door, startling Heidi.

"Take over," she ordered. Turning to leave she paused briefly at the form slumped through the window. Avoiding the blood still spurting from the jugular vein, she decided not to check for a pulse judging that he was dead, or too close to it to try and save.

Jumping off the porch, she ran to the Simpson house passing some restrained and subdued hostages being escorted to the restaurant. She hoped the few words she had used had not given her accent away as not being Filipino.

At the Simpson house she looked at the two un-allocated houses. There was now a light on in the Maddigan occupied home. Sounds of a crying child came from within but there was no obvious attempt by those within to see what was going on outside. The Brooke house where T.A. was staying only displayed the same outside lighting as before.

She grabbed two of the guards that were escorting the passing hostages and pointed to the Maddigans' house. As they ran toward the house, Heidi called out to them.

"Let them get dressed!" Then she ran to the leading group of escorted hostages and held up her hand for them all to stop. She pulled two of the guards aside to speak to them out of hearing of the others.

"Get a large selection of clothes and sheets. Let them all cover themselves with something before they get to the restaurant."

Running back to the Maddigan house again she passed a tightly bound and still nude Pater and Ness being escorted toward the rest of the hostages.

It began to worry her that there was still no reaction from the Brooke house. Perhaps they had escaped out the back door into the jungle when they saw what was going on from their brightly lit porch. Surely no-one could sleep through all the noise.

Doug Maddigan and Alona now emerged escorted from their house. Thankfully the guard had enough sense not to bind their hands. Doug was carrying the sleeping daughter cradled into his shoulder and Alona appeared to be carrying some supplies. While he looked rather calm, Alona was sobbing and Heidi heard her repeating, "What's happening? What's happening?" Doug put his spare arm over her shoulder.

"At least they were dressed," thought Heidi.

As another two guerillas passed her, she stopped them and pointed to the Brooke house. They quickly crossed the lawn and ran round to the back. She heard the glass in the back door shatter and through the uncovered lounge windows, saw them enter through the back door then disappear into the bedrooms. They switched all the bedroom lights on. There was no noise of any surprise or struggle. The two guerillas ran out the back door and as they approached Heidi they shook their heads.

"Shit, they've got away."

She decided to check for herself and ran into the house. When she spotted the bed still made up and obviously unused she realised they had not escaped, they were simply not at home. Hopefully they had been picked up in one of the other huts or houses. She would check that at the restaurant.

She ran past the paused and dressing group under guard, and on to the restaurant. It was already crowded with hostages mostly bound at the hands and with mouths taped. It annoyed Heidi that many of the guards just stood around ogling the nude and semi-nude bodies. They were staying in the restaurant instead of getting on with their next assignment. Too many of them in the same place could reveal an accurate estimate of their numbers.

She pulled three guards out of the restaurant and gave them the same instructions regarding sheets and clothing. She quickly scanned the faces of the hostages. All were accounted for except for T.A. and his woman. But if they were not in this group, where were they?

She suddenly remembered the bancas and the four guards she thought that she had left there. She ran to the beach and south to where the guards were meant to be. As she arrived she was surprised to see only two hooded men come out from under the tree.

"Are you from the four I left here? Where are the other two?" she asked.

"We haven't moved, and we haven't seen anyone else around here either."

Heidi was now mystified as to how there were two extras in her group. Perhaps two of those she had left under the tree still joined her group and were not from one of the other groups she had sent out. She now had to make sure the assigned groups began to consolidate and dig in their initial firing positions she had selected.

When she ran back to the restaurant it was easy to see that her group of hostages had arrived, as they were the only group dressed. Though, what they were wearing was only an assortment of sheets and other ill-fitting clothes. At least they were not naked.

The idea of having an orderly series of groups had mostly fallen apart from the start of the action. Proper grouping could begin now. Firstly she would clear the unnecessary guards out of the restaurant.

She pulled a guard out of the restaurant.

"Ask around to find the group leaders and tell them I want to see them here."

The guard just looked at her through the slits in his mask and said nothing.

"Do you understand?" she asked.

He just looked at her again, but this time shrugged his shoulders.

"Scheisse," she muttered to herself when she realised that she had picked someone who did not speak English. Returning to the restaurant she grabbed another of the guards, dragging him outside, she repeated the same order.

"O.K.," came the response. "It's me, Boy. I've been looking around to try and locate you too. What do you want done with all these beautiful bodies?"

"Dammit, I didn't realise how confusing all these masks would be with so many people. Boy, try to get as many of the soldiers out of here as possible before some of the hostages start counting masks."

Another masked figure was running along the path toward the restaurant. Heidi and Boy were both still a little jumpy, and both pointed their weapons in the direction of the newcomer.

"Hey," the stranger called out, "take it easy, it's Dandan."

"Where the hell have you been?" demanded Boy.

"It took quite a while to find Rico and Lorna. We just found them when there were two gunshots. That woke up a lot of people in the village. We had to settle them down and explain what was happening."

"Any problems?" asked Heidi.

"No, there was even a cheer from some of them. We had to insist they do not try to help. So now I'm here, what now?"

"We've got to clear up the confusion. Get the groups arranged as we'd organised. Get the gear off the beach and into position, or at least under the trees. We must be set up before daybreak. Before anything else, get all the unnecessary guards out of the restaurant. Make sure all the hostages have something to cover themselves with. When you pass out the clothes cut the tapes holding their hands."

"Boy, as soon as the extras have left, announce to the hostages that they are only being untied for as long as they behave. Any sign of trouble, the offenders will be re-tied and gagged. Make as many as possible of the Europeans sit in chairs. Get their partners to stand directly behind them. It'll help us check. Take all the staff, except the manager, the dive master and those that were staying with the ex-pats, back to the Simpson house and keep them there. I don't expect trouble from them. In the meantime three guards for the Simpson house will do."

Boy and Dandan moved into the restaurant. As they were doing so the various guards they approached began to move away from the restaurant. Heidi stood in the shadows and watched silently as order seemed to slowly return inside the restaurant.

# CHAPTER 22

## UNDER THE HOBIE-CAT

T.A. kept glancing up briefly from under the hobie-cat to see what was happening. He kept one arm over Malou's back to keep her from moving.

"What's happening now?" she asked.

"I don't know," he responded in a whisper.

She lifted her head to look.

"For Christ's sake, keep your head down."

"I want to see what's happening!"

T.A. could imagine her having a screaming argument there and then about her right to look, completely ignoring the consequences. He knew when she adopted this attitude it was useless to argue. Now they both watched through the narrow gap between one of the outrigger floats and the trampoline above their heads.

As he watched the men jumping off the three bancas he tried to count them. But with the constant movement and unloading the gear, he could not get past forty before his count became confused. A group started running along the beach towards them. Malou reacted instinctively and put her head down.

He tried to control his breathing which he was sure the invaders would hear. The sounds of feet crushing sand came closer. He was expecting a yell telling them to get out from under the hobie-cat. Instead, the sand muffled running began to fade. They had run past within a couple of metres and not seen them. He could not see where they had gone as the hobie-cat's hull blocked the view. Another group headed south.

Sneaking a look at the distant large boxes sitting on the beach, he knew that the amount of drugs they could contain would be enormous and probably worth millions of dollars. Such a shipment would be run by people with no qualms about killing to protect the shipment and their own anonymity. He had to figure a way to escape. If he could get back to the house it would be unlikely that drug-smugglers would disturb any of the resort guests. But why pick this island for dropping off drugs?

T.A.'s mind began to run through the list of staff to think who would be involved in such a shipment. Maybe it was one of the ex-pats. After all it would be a great cover, being semi-retired and living on an isolated island. Who?

A larger group began running towards them. They were carrying automatic weapons across their chests. Again they pushed their heads into the sand and again T.A. felt relief as the running feet passed them by. When he looked up there was only a small group of about a dozen left. Suddenly they too turned, and all seemed to disappear toward the houses by the overhanging tree.

"This might be our chance to slip away," T.A. whispered. But where could they go?

"No," she whispered. "Not yet. Let's just wait here."

T.A. peered into the half light for movement among the trees lining the beach. Nothing stirred. He rolled over Malou to see if any small bancas were near. He had never started the motor of a banca. He did not know if he could. If there was no key he would be in trouble. Maybe some did not need a key. Perhaps he could sneak a jet-ski out of the bar hut, he could float it out a hundred metres or so before trying to start it. At least he knew how to start them.

He was sure they would only have one chance to escape. He had to pick the best time and method. With the experience of a run of the jet-skis, with Malou on the back, they would need only one. As long as Malou did not cause them to fall off trying to counter-balance him as she did before. He hoped they would have enough fuel to get to any one of the other islands.

"Come on," T.A. whispered. "Slowly. We'll get to the storage shed for a jet-ski."

As they started to slide out to the sea from under the hobie-cat, screams started to come from the nearby Simpson house. House lights were suddenly on in other houses where they had not been on before. More screams and yelling came from other directions. They quickly scrambled back under their protective haven.

"What the hell's going on?" asked T.A.

"It's the NPA," replied Malou.

"Oh shit. What are they doing?"

"Probably raiding the resort to steal cash and robbing the guests as well."

"Let's get to the barrio then, we should be safe there."

"I wouldn't be too sure about that, some NPA are probably from the barrio. We should just try and get into the jungle and hide. If we get to any of the other islands, they'd probably just turn us over to the NPA anyway."

"I thought the NPA was finished."

"Don't believe all the things printed in the newspapers."

Two gunshots rang through the still night air and T.A. and Malou both banged their heads on the soft trampoline above them.

"Oh my God, what was that?" asked Malou.

Two figures suddenly ran out from under the overhanging tree and crouched by the bancas, automatic weapons ready. T.A. was pleased that they had not made a move.

"Shit, lie still, there were two of them still under the tree."

"Let's just stay here please," she almost pleaded in a voice that seemed close to tears. She grabbed his arm so tight it hurt.

"Good idea." T.A. knew he was not heroic and there were no cavalry around. These guys meant business. They just lay, listening to the screams and yells.

T.A. felt helpless. There was nothing that he could do for the others. He was scared enough for himself and Malou. But he did not feel safe here either. Because they were lying flat on the sand they could not see above the level of the true shoreline. Whatever was happening on the tractor path, or going on inside the houses, even those houses right on the shore-front, could only be guessed at. All the houses were showing more lights than he had ever seen before.

The amount of screaming and yelling slowly diminished. T.A. worried why. It was as if they had been silenced one by one over a period of several minutes. He shuddered; perhaps they were being knifed to death. That could explain the lack of further gunfire.

The eerie silence made him feel even more uneasy as his brain raced with alternatives for escape. Maybe hiding in one of the smaller bancas under the fishing nets could be effective. It might stink, but it would be safer than their present position.

"Belly down to the sea. Then move quietly along in the shallow water to one of the small bancas by the restaurant. Watch the guys guarding the landing bancas, if they look in our direction, freeze. When they look away, start moving again."

They started slowly to slide down to the water. Both T.A. and Malou again froze at the sound of footsteps running along the sand. Instead of staying put, they both panicked and slid quickly back under the only shelter that had protected them to date.

The footsteps passed by and stopped at the tree. T.A. looked up at the bancas. The two guards had gone. Somehow he had not seen them move, but here they were again emerging from under the tree to greet the newcomer. He could hear the hum of quiet voices, but not make out the words.

After a short time the newcomers returned the way they had come. T.A. was not feeling comfortable with his escape plan now.

"Can we just wait here?" whispered Malou.

"Yeah, we'll wait and see," T.A. willingly agreed.

While he continued considering alternative escape plans he wondered how long these intruders would remain on the island. Then it dawned on him that the hobie-cat would not provide a good hiding place once the sun came up. They would have to move before dawn.

Immediately he came to this decision, he heard more footsteps coming down the beach. Not in groups, but in ones and twos without haste, and starting to gather again under the tree. Perhaps they were getting ready to leave. When he saw them unpacking more weapons and begin to disperse back into the trees in little groups, his heart sank again. They were here for more than a few hours. There were too many on the beach to escape now.

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

Heidi saw there were enough people back on the beach to begin organising groups of six and allocate the ordinance. She hated the thought of this next task. She had often been the target of jest, being called school-ma'am. Now she had to undertake a school-ma'am, type task.

She had to make some form of roll call because she could not recognise her leaders among the masked group. They probably could not recognise her either, especially as she was the same height as most of the guerillas present. Thankful for the surprising degree of quietness among the group she called out.

"Helmut, Dandan, Aziz, Raji."

Eight figures came toward her. That seemed strange, but she thought that maybe some had already started to form groups.

"Helmut here," came the first voice.

Dandan, Raji and Aziz responded similarly, but four remained silent.

"O.K.," she began, "organise your groups and allocate the ordinance. Then get to the defensive sites."

"I want each leader to have personal night glasses as well as one other pair in your group." Approving grunts responded.

"The same applies with the starlight-scope M16's. At least one in each group. The extra six spread with Rico getting one, one for Ali in the restaurant, one for the spit group and one for this machine gun post under the tree. The remaining two can go with the groups taking up positions on the top of the ridge. Everybody got that clear?"

Again the murmur of agreement.

"Get the three fifty calibre machine guns to where we discussed. Set the first one up here under the tree to cover the beach front. The second under cover at the northern end of Apuao with the group guarding the spit and covering the inlet to the east. The third on the ridge."

"Dandan, go to the small barrio on Little Apuao and tell them what has happened. Let me know their reaction."

"At the first chance, make sure everyone strips their weapons, dries and cleans them. Too many went into the sea. The same applies to magazines and every round they are carrying. We can't afford weapons to jam, or misfire. They won't discover a jam until they try to fire their weapon.

"Helmut, take one of the fifty's with you now. Take your own group and one other. Give the fifty and an RPG to the men guarding the spit. The spare group can keep a watch out from the north of Little Apuao. Then stay with the group on the spit until I send for you. Later, your group and mine will operate a roving commission.

"Dandan, help Helmut get his groups and the other groups ready for Aziz and Raji."

Helmut and Dandan moved toward the men milling around. Dandan sorted them into groups and gave instructions.

"Aziz, take a fifty calibre and an RPG with your group. Set up where we met on the ridge. I'll send the next group up shortly."

"What about the missiles?" asked Aziz.

"I'll send a launcher and three missiles when the first defences are set up."

He moved off to join Helmut and Dandan as Helmut's groups picked up the now unpacked fifty calibre and several drums of ammunition, then started their run north along the beach again.

Dandan introduced Aziz to his group. Aziz grabbed his fifty calibre while some of the members grabbed ammunition belts, a tripod, and moved off.

"Raji, check Rico and Lorna are still O.K., give them their night glasses and starlight scope, then come back with your group and wait here for me."

Raji linked up with his group picked by Dandan, and after grabbing the equipment quickly moved off.

Heidi looked at the four tall figures still standing nearby and felt uneasy as they looked at her. She called to Dandan to join her.

"Dandan, there's four spare Filipinos here. I thought they were with you. Who are they?"

"We're not Filipino," one of the four extras answered, in a non-Filipino voice.

Heidi quickly regained her composure after the shock.

"Who the hell are you?"

"We're extras. There were a few extra people sent. We met up with our friends Mohammed and Ali and they asked us to join the action here. So we're here to help in any way we can."

"Jesus Christ, why wasn't I told earlier?" barked Heidi.

"We only met up with them a couple of days ago so there was no time."

"Where are you from?"

"Libya."

"Scheisse, I guessed that."

"I'm Moamar, this is Abdul, and these two are both named Mahmood."

Heidi felt her control over Mohammed and Ali was being resisted. She distrusted Mohammed, and now he had brought four of his friends and no doubt allies to help. Who were they really here to help? Her, or Mohammed?

"Abdul. Wait here, and help set up the fifty calibre on the beach. You are trained aren't you?"

"Don't worry about our training we've done our share of killing."

This comment chilled Heidi. She suddenly felt she would have to watch her back. It might be wise to isolate Mohammed from his allies.

"Moamar, instead, take Mahmood number one with you and go to the restaurant and relieve Mohammed. Take over his group. Dandan, go with them and bring Mohammed back here to get the extra machine gun. Take him and Mahmood Two with your groups to the ridge to set up the second machine gun post. Tell Mohammed he must take his orders from Aziz, not Ali."

"When that's done talk to the barrio on Little Apuao. Then take up a roving commission with your group to keep an eye on things. When I issue the radios keep them switched off to conserve power at this time. Pass that message on. Moamar, go to the restaurant. Dandan will follow in a minute."

Moamar and Mahmood One headed off to the restaurant without comment.

"Abdul, you can start setting up under the overhanging tree. Mahmood Two, help him until you have to go up the hill."

They moved away and Dandan moved closer to Heidi.

"I'm not too sure I like this," Dandan said.

"You feel it too eh?"

"It just seems that there are too many chances of a mistake and I don't have good feelings about those people."

Heidi did not want to reveal that she too was worried.

"Don't worry," she lied, "we might need the extra help. Just make sure that the extra group is ready when Mohammed returns. When you take them up to the ridge warn Aziz what has happened. Tell him to keep a wary eye on where Mohammed is, or where he goes if he leaves his group. Tell him that Mahmood Two will be on the hill too."

"I'll be watching all of them as well," commented Dandan.

"When you get the chance, make sure the same information is passed on to all the others. By that I mean the other non-Libyan leaders."

"At the first chance. With your approval I'd like to do something else too."

"What?"

"Actually I've already done it in two of the groups. We have several Filipinos who have worked in the Middle East. A few of them can understand some Arabic. So I put some Arabic speaking Filipinos in Mohammed and Ali's groups. But now we've got four more Libyans. I'd like to change the personnel to include someone who can keep an ear on their conversations and radio transmissions as well."

"Well thought out. Do it."

Dandan returned to the remaining group. After a few words to his colleagues he led the new group at a fast pace to catch up to Moamar and Mahmood One.

The beach front heavy machine gun was set up by the time Mohammed had returned with Dandan. Their groups immediately gathered the weapons for the ridge and departed. A few quick words were exchanged between Mohammed and Abdul, in what Heidi presumed to be Arabic. Heidi had stood back and watched without comment, unsure whether Mohammed was aware that she was watching. She was pleased that Dandan was ready for the 'interpretation.'

As they pulled out, Boy and his group arrived.

"The restaurant is set up. I'm not too sure about the new addition though, he seems a bit aggressive," said Boy.

"We must hope for the best," replied Heidi. "Are all the hostages clothed?"

"As well as we can manage. They're all wearing something. We've got as many seated as we can. There are two groups guarding. Nine men are just outside the open walls and three among the guests to keep a closer eye on them. They have settled down."

"Take your group and check the bancas and store sheds. There are two guests missing. Use your night binoculars rather than torches. Once they see the torches they'll pull their heads into whatever cover they've got."

"If you find them, no reprisals. Just take them to the restaurant. If you can't find them, check everything else is O.K. with Rico and Lorna. Once they've set up, check the barrio. After that just roam around between the barrio and the ex-pat houses. Search them again just in case they are hiding there."

Boy signalled his group to join him. He showed one member how to put on the night glasses and adjusted the strap, then put on his own pair. With a wave of his hand he headed north along the beach.

# CHAPTER 23

## INVITATION TO JOIN THE PARTY

T.A. and Malou had almost become blase about their invisibility under the hobie-cat. They had been passed by so many different groups. T.A. now estimated their numbers in excess of fifty. They all seemed well armed and at least one group had passed carrying what looked to him like a heavy machine gun. It appeared someone else was carrying a tripod with others carrying drums of ammunition.

It seemed an age since the screaming and yelling stopped. Although that seemed a hopeful sign it did not make him feel any safer. Even worse though, he re-thought that all the guests might be dead.

The numbers on the beach started to thin again. As soon as it got down to a small handful he would sneak down into the shallows and along to one of the bancas. That idea suddenly seemed less appealing as he remembered all the Portuguese Man-O-War jelly fish he had seen in the water the past few days. Still they had to get away from here. After sunrise they would be exposed. There was no other choice.

Another small group headed toward them. Again he pressed Malou into the sand to wait for the sand muffled footsteps to pass. As they reached their loudest, this time they stopped.

"Good evening."

The voice was very clearly a well educated Filipino T.A. thought, 'dammit, they've decided to have a conference right next to our hiding place.' They might accidentally spot them under the hobie-cat.

"I said, good evening. Are you being rude not coming to our party?"

T.A. wondered why he was not talking in one of the Filipino languages and thought he might risk sneaking a quick look in the direction of the speaker. As soon as he looked up he could see the speaker crouched no more than two metres in front of him and looking directly at him with an M16 placing an emphasis on his words that his voice did not express.

"I'm pleased you've decided to join the party. No-one will get hurt if no-one is stupid."

T.A felt the wind had been removed from his lungs. Malou looked up and squealed when she saw gunmen surrounding them. Then she started sobbing.

The speaking Filipino said a few sentences quietly to her in a tongue she obviously understood. She stopped her crying immediately.

They slid out the shore side from under the trampoline. As T.A. got up the Filipino helped Malou to her feet.

"What the hell's going on?" T.A. asked.

"It's all right," responded Malou, "just do as they say."

"Listen to your lady," said the well-spoken Filipino. "She'll probably tell you all about it later. Right now I'd like you to join all your friends waiting for you in the restaurant. Everybody is safe and unhurt. Some are just a little frightened that's all."

Led by the speaker and surrounded by five other armed escorts they meekly followed. T.A.'s muscles were tight and he stumbled in the loose sand. As he pitched forward a closely watching guard mistook his movement as an attack, and clubbed him in the back with his barrel.

"Ah shit!" screamed T.A. and fell full length on the sand. Malou leaned over T.A. to try and shield him from further blows.

"Pasensia ka na, wala ko mahibalo nga na dam-ag ka," called out the guard who struck him.

"You bastard," T.A. yelled at him.

"Now, now," called out the well spoken Filipino. "He thought you were lunging at me, then realised you tripped. He was trying to apologise to you in Visayan. If your lady understands, she will confirm it."

"Yes," sobbed Malou.

"Please, my men are all very jumpy. They're nervous and a little scared too, just like you. No sudden moves and we'll all be happy."

Two men stepped forward and helped T.A. to his feet. They continued the remaining distance to the restaurant uneventfully.

As they came in through the front entry past two guards, he noticed all the others were in various stages of dress including many with sheets wrapped around them.

Their entry caused an outbreak of chatter. The lead Filipino grabbed a stool from behind the bar and indicated for T.A. to sit, which he did painfully still feeling the effects of the blow. Then the Filipino indicated for Malou to stand directly behind T.A. which she did without question. As soon as he was seated, he looked around and saw everyone else seemed to be set up in their natural pairings where it was applicable. Men seated with their partners directly behind them. It was obvious which men were at the resort without a partner. The two female English nurses did not have partners either. The few children were either seated on laps or held in the adult's arms.

By the time T.A. finished his quick review of the situation the little group that had escorted them had disappeared out of the restaurant and back into the dark. He wondered how they had been so easily found after being unseen for so long. His back ached severely. As if in response to his movement Malou began to gently stroke the painful area of his back with her fingertips.

He looked around to see if anybody else had escaped the round-up more successfully than they had. He realised Helmut and Heidi were missing and the two Iranian guys that kept pretty much to themselves. They were all resourceful types. There could be others that he could not remember.

A tall masked gunman continually walked around in front of the semi-circle of seated prisoners. Occasionally he would stop in front of a couple, look at the woman at the back, look at the man seated and then burst out laughing. T.A. was sure it was making the others feel as uncomfortable as he was. He thought again about Heidi and Helmut. Maybe they were in the jungle somewhere. Perhaps they had got away by banca but he had not heard any bancas leave from the beach. He just hoped that they had not been on the receiving end of the two shots that were fired. Even so, that would mean at least the Iranians were somewhere roaming free and might get help. Somewhere there were at least two people, maybe four or more still roaming free.

The tall gunman continued his strut, but he began a new tactic. He would stop in front of a couple, put the muzzle in to the stomach of the seated male, then lean across and grab the breast of the partner standing behind. It was an obvious attempt to provoke some sort of a reaction from the seated men. As the hands groped for the breasts, the Filipino women would pull away, and the masked gunman would then step back and laugh. Sometimes, before he withdrew the muzzle from the stomach of the victim, he would yell "Bang!" and laugh.

T.A. noticed Podgy, only two seats away to his left was redder-faced than usual, sweating and looking agitated. When the gunman had moved to the other side of the circle, Podgy suddenly called out.

"Bastard!"

The gunman suddenly swung around to see where the call had come from. Unsure of the exact source, he casually sauntered across the floor in T.A.'s direction. First he looked at Graham, seated to T.A.'s right, realised that Graham was still in a half drunken sleep. Then he looked at T.A. and noticed Malou behind him. He put the barrel into T.A.'s stomach he reached across to fondle Malou. She stepped quickly back and yelled at him.

"Animal!"

He stepped back and laughed. Then pointing the M16 directly at T.A.'s forehead yelled, "Bang!"

Moving on, he stopped in front of Podgy. Seeing Podgy's protruding stomach he thrust the barrel viciously into it. Podgy let out a scream of pain then yelled out again.

"Bastard!"

At this, the Animal pulled the barrel out of Podgy's stomach and began to swing it down toward Podgy's face. Ruth had moved so quickly in front of Podgy that she took the full blow. The barrel hit her across the cheek, mouth and nose, resulting in her falling to the floor. Suddenly all around the room, a forward motion began and Podgy began to rise. The Animal savagely prodded Podgy in the stomach again, knocking him back into his chair. Turning quickly he threatened all those who had risen out of their seats with his M16. Everyone sat quickly, not accepting the unfair challenge issued. As soon as everyone was re-seated, the Animal looked back at Podgy still doubled up in pain and seated on his chair. The Animal almost gently helped Ruth to her feet and directed her back behind the seated Podgy. Then, turning his back he laughed, and re-commenced his provocative strut around the restaurant.

# CHAPTER 24

## PODGY HODGE

### APUAO GRANDE

Nobody knew why Podgy Hodge did it. Perhaps Podgy did not know why either. He was not a stranger to physical violence. His father used to beat him for no apparent reason after many of his father's long drinking bouts. Although Podgy could not remember when they started he remembered very well when they stopped.

On his fourteenth birthday Podgy's mum gave him a miniature baseball set. A few days later, his father came home drunk yet again after another of his long and too frequent drinking bouts. Whenever these occasions happened Podgy would attempt to surreptitiously sneak away to his room. There, the inside lock and the solidity of the heavy wooden door would save him. That night he made as if to casually pick up his precious birthday gifts. As he picked up the baseball and his catcher's mitten, he noticed the bat was too close to his father to be unnoticeably recovered. Despite the risk he made his way slowly toward the bat. Suddenly his father reached out his long skinny arms, not to grab him, but to grab the baseball bat. Podgy somehow knew he was in big trouble this time and tried even quicker to skirt around his father to the safety of his bedroom.

Sensing, not seeing the swinging bat, his arm automatically raised to defend against the anticipated blow. As it struck, the pain shot from his forearm to his shoulder. It hurt like he could never remember hurting before. He lost balance, falling as the next blow ricocheted off his raised legs onto his nose. The cracking of the bones in his nose seemed to send knife stabs across his whole face as he kicked out with his feet. Luck in his blind panic scored the vulnerable place between his father's legs. His father doubled up in pain. Podgy noticed blood splatters on his father's shirt and instinctively knew it was his own, not his father`s blood. All defensive control snapped as he lunged for his father`s eyes, tearing any way he could. His father dropped the bat to cover his eyes. Podgy pounced on the bat and swung it wide onto his father`s ear. As his father stumbled and fell to the floor Podgy swung the bat down on him again and again, over the legs, arms and any part of the body that had been inflicting pain on him for years. His arms suddenly seemed to be surrounded and his ears were filled with screaming. It seemed to take an age before he realised his mother was holding him from behind and screaming for him to stop. Podgy broke free and ran with his precious possessions to the safety of his bedroom.

Time allowed the broken nose to heal, although he was left with a nose flattened like a boxer's. Though the bruising faded quickly on him he was pleased that some of the bruising never faded on his father`s face. His father never hit him again.

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

Podgy now watched the small slow steady flow of blood from his companion Ruth's nose and cut lip. His darling little Ruth, why had she done it? The striking blow from the swinging M16 barrel was clearly meant for him yet she moved so fast to put herself between him and the arrogant animal swinging the gun. She seemed to move almost before the strike. His mother had never done that. She had only watched silently, head bowed while his father beat him. Now Podgy watched as a different, but far more loving woman tried to wipe the blood from her own nose and lip with the back of her hand. Instead it only spread the blood over those lovely high cheek bones which Podgy could remember gently kissing only a few hours before. Her little button nose that he teased her about was already horribly swollen and seemingly slightly off centre.

The more the blood continued to flow, the more Podgy's body rose and fell with his breathing. The Animal continued to strut backwards and forwards in front of the seated group, pointing his M16 at someone, saying "Bang!", and then burst out laughing. He was laughing as he walked past Podgy.

Podgy's massive bulk sprang out of its chair, hands going straight for the eye slits of the hooded Animal. But the Animal was no drunken over-weight old man. Although Podgy reached the Animal's hood and grabbed hold, the Animal brought the M16 butt up into Podgy`s stomach with a vicious blow expecting it to double Podgy over in pain. But Podgy`s forward impetus was greater than the counter blow. Although he missed the eyes he held on to the hood and jerked it with all his strength twisting the Animal's head sharply and causing him to temporarily lose balance.

The eye slits were now out of place and the Animal could not see. Podgy swung his fat heavy forearm hitting the Animal heavily across his nose. His vision blocked, the Animal panicked and tore off his own hood to see where the attack was coming from. Podgy had fallen from putting excess weight behind a misdirected blow. The now hoodless Animal saw him. Podgy clambered slowly to his feet for another charge.

The Animal laughed as he fired an un-aimed shot from his waist catching Podgy above the knee throwing him back to the floor. Podgy, despite his wound, had rolled to a crouch like a sprinter ready to start. The Animal was a moustached Arab, not a Filipino. He motioned Podgy with his M16 barrel to come again.

Somehow Podgy obliged, staggered to his feet, and charged. About a metre from the Arab the second shot hit Podgy in the stomach. Now his forward movement was too great for the bullet to stop him and the M16 barrel was in Podgy's stomach when the third shot exploded. The amazed Arab felt the big arms and body pushing him rapidly backwards. He kept pulling the trigger, the bullets flying from the stomach out of Podgy's back. The Animal was wishing he had not switched to single shot.

His back hit the sharp slate tiled edge of the bar with all of Podgy's massive weight pushing him. He heard a crack and felt a soaring pain right up to his brain. He could see the lights on the ceiling and was only aware of a general sense of the body on top of him because he could see it. He could not feel any weight. He wanted to throw it off him but nothing moved. It was as if his arms and legs were restrained, and his neck too. He tried to look around for help, then he realised he could not do that either.

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

T.A. did not know whether he had been frozen to his seat with fear, hypnotised by the happenings, or whether they had all occurred with such rapidity that he had not had a chance to react. Yet it had all seemed to happen in slow motion. He became very aware of the mix of women screaming, men swearing, and guards yelling and threateningly pushing rifle barrels toward anyone trying to move out of their seats. Other guards were forcing some hostages out from under tables where they had dived when the first shot was fired.

Disorganised panic among some of their outside captors made some run into the restaurant firing in the air to frighten and deter anyone who might think of making a break for it in the pandemonium. The mayhem of screaming and yelling continued with each burst of automatic weapons-fire. Inside, each of the captive men with partners was trying to console his woman. The single men still screamed abuse at their captors as their only safe way to react.

T.A. did not know how long this went on before the guards regained some semblance of order and control. It seemed many minutes but was probably only seconds. T.A. was thankful the guards had quickly regained control. There were some alcohol affected hot-heads among the guests who might react with more than abuse, their courage boosted by excess amounts consumed earlier in the night, and their common sense diminished by the interrupted sleep. It was a time for cool heads, thought T.A., not the senseless bravado of Podgy. Perhaps the provocation Podgy had was greater than anyone else, though it had seemingly cost him his life.

As the weeping diminished into sobbing, T.A. looked past Malou's shoulder at the still form of Podgy still lying across the Animal on top of the bar. The Animal looked dead as he had not moved after hitting the edge of the bar with his back. T.A. was sure he could still see the Animal's eyes moving. If so, it was the only part of his body that did seem to be moving. After a few seconds he noticed that there was an occasional movement spasm of nerves in the Animal's fingers. He had seen that sort of movement before in rabbits he had shot. T.A. had heard the crack of the Animal's back as loudly as if there had been total silence in the room. Instinct told him that the Animal's back had been snapped, even though he had never heard a sound like that before.

Podgy had too many large holes in his back to still be alive. T.A. wondered what had happened to Ruth during all this; then he spotted her sobbing in the arms of Ness. He could not even remember how Malou had got into his arms. Had he grabbed her, or had she grabbed him? T.A. watched two of the captors walk backward to where the inert figures lay, carefully keeping a wary eye on the now seemingly subdued captives.

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

The Animal felt nothing, but his eyes saw the large lifeless body on top of him. Yet the body seemed weightless. His eyes watched the others of his group dragging the restricting body off him. Even free of that, he could not move. He could not make any sense out of the voices that seemed to come to him through an empty tin. He knew something was very wrong.

Podgy's lifeless body was dropped on the floor as the Animal's companions laid the Animal flat on his back on top of the bar, placing one of the rolled up bar towels under his neck.

Podgy's eyes too were open but were seeing nothing. His brain was asking, "Why Dad were you always hitting me and calling me a bastard?" He knew he looked neither like his mother or his father and his hair had always been rusty coloured. No; not now. Tears started to flow out of his lifeless eyes he suddenly began realising a thought that had never occurred to him before. He was not his father's son.

Then his thoughts clouded, and his brain, like his body, died.

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

A new group of six hooded guerillas rushed into the restaurant, weapons at the ready, obviously arriving in response to the gunfire of a few seconds earlier. They looked expectantly and nervously around the guests, pointing their weapons menacingly, before each saw the two bodies and then started a second round of nervous posturing and yelling. One of the new arrivals grabbed one of the guards by the shirt and dragged him outside, out of earshot of any of the guests.

Returning after a few minutes, the shorter one was obviously very agitated and walked straight to the bar where the Arab was lying, picked up a another loose towel and in anger threw it straight at the face of the non-feeling Arab. Then stepping back, allowed two others to roughly drag the limp body of the Arab off the bar by his arms, out of the darkened front of the restaurant towards the sea.

The short new-comer bent over the body of Podgy and with a shake of the head then looked up in the direction of Ruth. Ruth did not see the guerilla looking at her and everyone jumped again as another gunshot came from in front of the restaurant in the direction of where the Animal was dragged. Within seconds, the two who had dragged the Arab outside returned and with the aid of two more of their colleagues lifted Podgy's body on to the top of the bar. Another guerilla appeared from the back of the restaurant and covered the body with a sheet.

One of the guards began counting the captives and after completing this action returned to the short new-comer and nodded. In response, the short one waved an arm, turned an about face and was followed out by the other new arrivals.

Two of the guards went behind the bar, broke off the padlock to the large fridge and began to place bottles of soft drinks on the vacant bar space around Podgy's body, opening each before setting them down. When they had finished opening about seventy assorted bottles, they moved to the front of the bar and leaned against it as though waiting for something else to happen.

Their actions seemed to reduce tension or perhaps T.A. only imagined it.

When most of the loud crying had diminished into sobbing, the two guards leaning on the front of the bar passed their weapons to their colleagues, picked up as many drinks as they could carry and began to pass drinks out among the captives who would accept them.

Many refused out of obstinate pride, others out of shock or disbelief as to the guards' intentions. Some, including T.A., accepted. He thought their offer was confirmation of his previous thought about a sudden less aggressive attitude by the guerillas.

But T.A.'s main thoughts, probably like most other people, were with Podgy. What a tragic and farcical situation. Podgy was not going to leave the Philippines without his lovely Ruth. Now he was not going to be leaving the Philippines at all.

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

About ten minutes after the guerillas had given them the drinks, first one, then another group of six hooded guerillas arrived. One of the last arrivals stepped forward, M16 hanging over his shoulder, clapped his hands together to gather everyone's attention, then pushed his hands out in front of him in a settle-down gesture.

"Ladies and Gentlemen," the accent was that of the well educated Filipino, still with that strong sing-song lilt in many of their voices.

"Although we genuinely regret the unfortunate incident that has occurred, you must all understand that we have come here with a mission to achieve. Once we have achieved the aims of our mission, as you were told before, you will all be released. We wanted to be able to release you all unharmed. The incident that has happened could happen again, if you try any more foolish actions. What we must now do is to see to it that the chance of it happening again is reduced to a minimum. To that end we will now be separating the guests into smaller groups. I ask for your co-operation, but if we don't get it then please understand that we don't have time to argue or debate the point. Anyone objecting will simply be shot in the legs and then carried to where they were supposed to go before the argument."

A murmur of doubt and uncertainty went around the room and T.A. was sure everyone cast a quick glance in the direction of Podgy's body.

"The first step is the separation of Filipinos from non-Filipino. There is no sinister intent with this; merely that we are sure that the Filipinos in the group are more understanding of the aims of the NPA, and more easily realise that we do not intend them any harm." Pointing to Podgy's body, "It is unfortunately precisely this type of misunderstanding that occurred has resulted in the death of your friend."

T.A. thought it was a bit late to tell Podgy that he had died because of a misunderstanding.

"Although I will concede," he went on, "our compatriot may have been over- zealous; he was attacked by one of you. The safest thing is to ensure it doesn't happen again. The only time trouble will result is if any of you attempt to hinder our aims, or try to escape. All those of Filipino descent, whether they are still Filipino citizens or not, will remain here under guard. For those of you with partners I will give you two minutes; then you will separate. The non-Filipinos will move to the end of the restaurant nearest the bar. Non-Filipino children must go with the non-Filipino group."

T.A. noticed Malou was trembling, or perhaps she was still shaking from the first incident. While he was holding her he noticed a further group of six hooded guerillas arriving. That now made thirty, no, twenty-nine with the Animal now probably dead, hopefully shot after he was dragged away. It was no time or place to argue with that number of guns.

While the guests were talking animatedly in twos or threes, several of the guerillas had pushed the tables onto the flower beds outside, with the exception of two which they placed across the centre of the restaurant as an obvious division for separating the Filipinos from non-Filipino guests.

T.A. wondered where many of the staff were? He had only seen Ben the manager, the diving instructor and his wife, his assistant, the terrified guard, Ness, and one other Filipino office girl. Perhaps the others had not been caught.

As soon as the room division was done, the educated Filipino again clapped his hands for attention.

"Please now, the sooner this is done, the sooner we will be able to finish our mission and leave this island."

Last hugs were being given. T.A. tried to console Malou, without a great deal of success. He noticed a few others were having similar difficulties. Those with "paid-for partners" generally were having less difficulty separating and many had already moved to the allocated area of the restaurant.

The guerillas moved in among the last few couples still clinging together, which included T.A. and Malou. This time the guerillas again postured threateningly and meant business. This was confirmed as he had a muzzle jammed sharply into his back with a "Move!" command simultaneously barked into his ear. The sudden pain made him immediately release his grip on Malou and he turned to face his protagonist. One look into the gun-toting hooded guerilla's eyes was enough to make him realise that the guerilla meant business. Malou screamed in response to his pain.

"I'm O.K.," he reassured her.

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, it just gave me a bit of a surprise, that's all."

He gave her another quick kiss on the forehead and they turned away from each other to walk to the different ends of the restaurant.

As he was moving away, he heard screaming and crying. He turned to see Doug and Alona being forcefully separated. Their personal separation was not the trouble, but the guerilla separating them was trying to take their daughter away from Alona and give her to Doug. Alona was screaming in whatever language she was hoping they would understand, even in English.

"She is my daughter," Alona screamed. "She is Filipino."

"No," replied the guerilla in English, "Filipinos do not have blond hair."

T.A. wanted to step in and say something, but his personal protagonist gave him another jab in almost the identical spot.

He realised that anyone not aware of Doug and Alona's relationship, with the child being so white skinned and with blond hair, it would be impossible for a stranger to believe the little girl was a Filipino Mestiza.

Eventually the speaker stepped in, and grabbed the little girl from both of them. They looked at him as he turned to Alona and muttered something in Tagalog, Alona burst into tears.

"No," she yelled, and turned and ran to the group of Filipinos.

"What did you say you bastard?" Doug glared at the hooded guerilla.

"If you don't take the little girl I will cut your testicles off."

He thrust the youngster at Doug and glared right back at him.

"You Americano bastards come to the Philippines, fuck our women, and take no responsibility for what you've done. You take this one or I will castrate you with the greatest delight."

Doug was surprised by the bitterness of the reply, and clasping the little girl close to him he moved to the non-Filipino group.

Some guerillas stood between the two groups, and the speaker now said to the non-Filipinos.

"Follow me."

Leading, each side, and behind the group about twenty guerillas escorted the non-Filipinos out the back of the restaurant, past the swimming pool, and toward the tennis court. T.A. realised as soon as he saw it ahead of them, all lit up, that it was to be their place of internment.

They were counted as they were ushered singly through the small entry door. T.A. looked up once he was inside. He guessed the height of the top wires at something over three metres, perfect for the guerillas' purpose. High wire, one narrow entry, and floodlit for night tennis. A simple way for four guards, one stationed outside the tennis court at each corner, to police the activities of the fifty or so foreigners held within.

The leader padlocked the only entry door, looked up, and said:

"Some of my men will gather blankets, pillows and insect repellent and deliver them shortly. Tomorrow, you will be allowed to get a mattress each. After that, anyone causing trouble will have his mattress confiscated. Tins for toilets will also be provided in a few minutes, together with drinking water. Don't waste the water."

With that, he turned and walked back in the direction of the restaurant.

T.A., like Doug and all the others interned inside the tennis court began to wonder about what might now happen to those partners left behind in the restaurant.

# CHAPTER 25

## A BLONDE FILIPINA

### APUAO GRANDE

A subdued silence descended on those incarcerated in the tennis court. Singly, in pairs or groups they found their own spaces to stand or sit.

Some looked at the high wire of the tennis court that had become their prison. Most, if not all of the guests had walked past this tennis court several times. Some had played on it. Now, all were looking at it as if it had suddenly appeared by magic and they were seeing it for the very first time.

Curiosity and a little apprehension as to the reason why they were caught up in this event were the questions deep in the minds of most. Some began to ask others why. For now, they found their questions mostly ignored by their co-detainees. At this stage most were too deeply involved with their own thoughts, unable, or unwilling to listen to the thoughts of others.

Some were still in states of shock from the violence of minutes ago. Minds were remembering the crumpled body of Podgy Hodge and the vegetable state of his murderer. Everyone presumed the Animal had received the 'coup-de-grace' from his former colleagues. He was obviously beyond first aid treatment. Hospitalisation was out of the question.

Although the tennis court was not designed with the intention of incarceration in mind, it certainly was as effective. The wire mesh sides were too high to easily climb. The only genuine entry or exit was the tube framed swing door at one end, now padlocked and chained. The few small gaps in the bottom of the netting, where it met the edge of the hard-court, were only a nuisance when a miss-hit a tennis ball flew through.

The four terrorists allocated guarding these fifty or so detainees could see every movement inside the wire. The lighting provided for night tennis now provided security lighting for the guards to keep an eye on the inmates.

The action of placing them here came so swiftly after Podgy Hodge's angry and futile act. With everyone still in shock immediately after his death, it was unlikely anyone would have considered resisting the shift. Even if it had been the intention to use the tennis court later, Podgy's actions had certainly sped up the timetable.

Perhaps the guerillas thought separating non-Filipinos from the Filipinos' would reduce the possibility of any further trouble. All the non-Filipino children were with this hotchpot of races inside the tennis court. The few European women had already taken most children under their protection.

T.A. watched the gathering settle down quickly, and spread around the edges of the court, using the netting for a type of flexible back support. Some sat in pairs or groups while others sat alone. Graham had already fallen asleep on the hard surface helped by the alcohol induced stupor. Pater was wandering slowly around the inside of the perimeter like the caged creature he was. His pacing kept the guards on edge. When he finally selected a suitable place to settle the guards relaxed their continuous watching. Pater settled near Doug Maddigan and his now sleeping little daughter.

Douglas Maddigan sat staring without seeing. It was like he was hypnotised. He did not seem conscious of his daughter on his lap. An unlikely picture after the long and loud tearful screams when she was first dragged from her mother. Screams had subsided into deep sobbing and then into that peaceful sleep as only children can do. Doug's eyes were unseeing and trance-like.

The gate opened. Ten guards, arms full of assorted bedding and blankets, threw the load inside the entry. Six others delivered cases of bottles of water, buckets and toilet paper. Without any sense of urgency the prisoners made their way to collect anything they thought might be useful. Gunther grabbed an extra pillow and blanket and brought them over to Doug. Pater too obtained an almost black blanket, which instead of wrapping around him rolled it up to sit on. He looked strange still wearing the sheet he had arrived in. Looking like a dirty Roman emperor who had fallen from grace.

The child in Maddigan's lap gave a muscle jerk and rolled her head from side to side. Maddigan woke from his trance and looked at the defenceless girl. Why had she come into all of this and complicated his life? This was his fifth visit to the Philippines. Each of the last five years he had taken his annual leave to spend three weeks in the Philippines with Alona. It was his third visit to Apuao Grande.

Doug's mind drifted to the first time five years ago when he met Alona. He was never quite sure whether it was arranged or not. Even if it was he was certainly happy about it at the time.

Like many San Franciscans he knew a few Filipinos living in the U.S.A. He was a quantity surveyor in a construction company. Being single, the company was easily able to send him out of town on assignments. The company employed two Filipina secretaries. To Doug, their mood always seemed cheery, happy, friendly and always quick with a smile and a laugh. That quaint seemingly Filipino national trait of covering the mouth with the open hand when they laughed still amused him. Although he thought he had now figured out why. It seemed to be most prevalent among Filipinos with bad teeth arrangement, and there were a lot of them. Despite that even those with beautiful teeth also did it, but not with same intensity.

Although he had often small-talked with the office Filipinos' he never had serious discussions. It was over six years ago when he began talking with one secretary named Ligaya, Alona's older sister, about possibly flying to Hong Kong. From there he was telling her he would also visit Macau for his vacation. The only drawback in his possible destination was the absence of good beaches and places for snorkelling and scuba-diving. This was an open invitation to any Filipino to wax lyrical about the white sands, clear seas and excellent diving around the Philippines. Ligaya suggested he should try scuba-diving in the Philippines.

Doug knew Ligaya had started work as a junior secretary in the same company about six months after he had begun his appointment. They were of a similar age, early 30's. Ligaya was married to some semi-drunk about 20 years her senior. She had been married for about six years, the same amount of time she had been in the U.S.A. Her marriage had come about after she replied to one of the dozens of advertisements in the Personal Column of the newspaper.

The thought of a diving holiday in the Philippines became a search for more information after he read two favourable articles in two separate diving magazines strongly extolling the virtues of diving in the Philippines. After that he regularly questioned Ligaya about the Philippines.

Their conversations seemed to be coming from different directions. While he was after diving information, she would talk about her family in Cebu City on Cebu in the Visayas. She told Douglas to write to her younger sister Alona to find information about diving in the Philippines, as she knew nothing about it, Alona would find out for him. He resisted the temptation to start writing as he did not want to be put in the same mould as "The Pen Pal Desperados". Doug had been able to glean all the information he had wanted from his own readings.

More glowing articles and reports finalised his decision. His travel agent made the air travel arrangements and booked the first two nights accommodation in Manila. Ligaya seemed as ecstatic as if she was going herself. Both she and the other secretary Fe asked him to take things with him for their respective families. This too was a Filipino tradition.

His arrival date was set. By coincidence or arrangement, he never did find out which, Alona was going to be in Manila at the time of his arrival. She would meet him at his hotel and collect the small parcel Ligaya had sent. Fe's relations too would meet him. They lived in Pasay City, part of Metro Manila.

Although he travelled light on clothing, his B.C.D., regulator, fins, snorkel and mask took up a lot of space. Fe's package was small and took up little room. Ligaya was justifiably embarrassed when she gave him quite a large box with a carry handle. Douglas remembered feeling irked at the time but agreed anyway.

Arrival at the Benigno Aquino Airport in Manila at night was chaotic. After he had cleared Immigration, and collected his luggage, Customs was his first taste of the corruption. One of the Customs officers wanted him to pay duty on his old underwater camera, B.C.D. and regulator. He was begrudgingly about to pay when one of the other passengers interceded on his behalf asking the Customs Officer loudly under which section of the act the duty was being levied. The officer asked him to lower his voice, quickly ticked the baggage with white chalk, and asked Doug to hurry through.

As he thanked the other passenger, the guy just nodded and said, "They're all bloody corrupt, he was trying to get money for himself."

After exiting the Customs area he was confronted by a huge sea of faces cordoned off at each end of the building. He was startled for a few minutes before he remembered his instructions to look for a placard advertising his hotel. On sighting it, he reported to the carrier and was swiftly escorted to his bus.

Departure was delayed a few minutes to wait for other possible passengers. Then the nearly empty bus departed for the hotel.

A sense of relief flowed over him when the bus arrived outside the hotel. Porters delivered the luggage into the Reception lounge. Although not in the mood, he had to complete all the hotel formalities before he was issued with the room key. In remote control, too tired through the sixteen-hour time difference and the eighteen-hour trip from home to Manila, he quickly showered and fell into bed.

It only seemed like minutes had elapsed, when he heard a distant buzz somewhere in the background. As his conscious mind woke he realised it was the telephone. He blinked in the bright light of day as he picked up the receiver. He had not even bothered to close the curtains in his tired rush to get to bed.

"Good Morning, Sir. This is reception here. I have some people at reception who said you are expecting them."

Maddigan wished his brain would function clearly, "Who is it?"

"They told me to say they have come to collect Fe's package sir."

"Oh, O.K., tell them I'll be down in a few minutes."

After he hung up he just wanted to crawl back into bed. A quick glance at his watch showed 11.30 a.m. local time. He had slept for about 12 hours.

The shower felt good. He did not give a damn how long they had to wait he was going to enjoy his shower.

Eventually feelings of guilt keeping people waiting made his enjoyment of the shower less than he had hoped. At least he felt refreshed and able to face the required obligatory pleasantries he would have to make.

Dressed, he collected the smaller package from his bag and made his way downstairs to the reception desk. Once there he asked one of the receptionists to identify the people asking for him. She pointed at a small group standing self-consciously near the doorway. Their nervous movements were as if they were feeling they did not belong in such surroundings.

He introduced himself. They seemed over-awed at his size in comparison to theirs. They also seemed desperate to prove their identification as they all showed voter cards, birth certificates and other forms of I.D.

"We just want you to know that you're giving the parcel to the right people."

Polite small talk followed after he gave them the package. He could see from their continual looks at the package, that they were keen to open it. Their politeness and decorum for such action prevented them tearing the paper off with the enthusiasm of children on Christmas morning. He glanced up at the door as a very attractive lady entered the lounge and made her way to the reception counter. He lost sight of her as another in the group asked yet another question about their sister Fe. Then one mentioned they had to return to work. Possibly using that as an excuse, they all said their farewells. Several left a telephone number and name for him to contact if he needed any help.

He was pleased that he had disposed of half of his obligations to his co-workers. He watched the last of Fe's relations make their way out of the front door and turned to make his way back to his room. Sleep would come again so easily.

"Sir," called out one of the ladies, "there is another guest to see you."

He looked to where she was politely pointing. On looking, he saw the beautiful lady who had come in the door a few minutes before. He looked at her for a few seconds but she gave no sign of recognition. He let his eyes look past her to another woman standing further away. The second woman gave him a small grin but made no other movement. Then he noticed the first lady begin walking the few steps between them until she stood right in front of him.

"Mr Maddigan?"

His heart skipped a few beats. The beautiful face and big brown eyes were looking directly up at him. He felt tongue-tied for the first time in a long time.

"Ah, ah, yes, I'm Doug Maddigan." He had almost forgotten his own name. Her eyes just seemed to drag him in and strip his mind of everything else at the same time.

"I'm Alona, Ligaya's sister."

She extended her hand to shake his. He automatically extended his and took the tiny hand in his. Then he realised that he was still holding her hand long after she had stopped shaking it. Embarrassed, he let it go.

"Sorry, I um, have a parcel for you."

"Thank you for bringing it. Ligaya said she was embarrassed to give you such a big box to bring."

Doug regained his composure. He wanted to talk to this one.

"It was absolutely no problem at all. Look, I haven't eaten yet, I'd really love it if you'd eat with me."

"Thank you, I have eaten. If you want company I'd love to hear about how Ligaya is doing. That is if you have time."

Doug felt he would give her all the time she wanted and knew that it would not be enough time for him.

That was how it started. From there he asked her to show him around Manila. When she said she did not know Manila, he asked if she would explore it with him.

He stayed four days in Manila instead of the original two that he had planned. Each of those four days in Manila he had spent with Alona. She had always insisted on returning to her cousin's house in the evening. She had not even allowed him to kiss her. Frustrated, he said his goodbyes and headed off to Puerto Galera for diving as he had originally intended.

After two days diving in Puerto Galera, and thinking so much about Alona, he returned to Manila and went straight to her cousin's house. When he found she was still there his heart soared. He knew that this woman made him feel something he had never felt before.

She too seemed pleased to see him. In secret they planned to tell the cousin that she was going to visit her old school friend for a week or two. Then they arranged their first trip to Apuao Grande.

It was here he found that he had fallen in love with her, and she seemingly with him. Despite their time together, his feelings and fear of commitment prevented him from making definite plans for a future with her. He decided that he would get to know her better by writing to her.

On his second visit a year later he knew how strongly he felt. Another holiday at Apuao Grande was taken as though to reinforce the discovering of each other at the same place on the previous visit. Soon after the second visit, she virtually stopped writing. He was confused. She had previously seemed to be in full agreement about joining him in the USA on a fiancee visa. Ligaya too suddenly started to avoid him, and Alona's letters to him were few and far between. When he did receive one, they seemed to be impersonal and very formal. Not the intimate type previously shared.

He wanted to telephone, but could not. Like the majority of families in the Philippines, especially outside of Manila, their household budget did not run to the expense of a telephone connection. He had to find out what was wrong, but how? It had been nearly a year since he had seen her and it felt like the worst year of his life.

He had found out Ligaya's home address through office records, and on a weekend drove over to make a surprise visit on her. The pretext was that he was "just passing." She had previously invited him to visit, though that was before this estrangement with Alona.

Ligaya was certainly very surprised to see him. Doug decided to pour out his heart to her. He told Ligaya how much he was missing Alona and how upset he was that she seemed to have become remote. After he had finished he realised that he had tears streaming from his eyes and felt thoroughly embarrassed.

"Dammit Ligaya, I love her. What have I done wrong? I want her with me."

Ligaya sat back deeply in her chair as if nestling in to prevent being torn out of it.

"Doug, I promised her that I would not tell you. I can see this is tearing at you as much as it is tearing at her."

"What's wrong?"

"She had a baby three months ago. She was too ashamed to tell you she was pregnant after your last visit. She did not want to burden you with her trouble."

Doug felt as if he had his stomach pulled out from below his ribcage.

"Oh my God! Why?"

"She had told you she was taking precautions."

"Oh my God."

"So you are the father of a little girl. She still hasn't picked a name yet."

"What can I do?"

"Nothing, maybe she should have told you. She didn't know what to do. She thought that the family could raise the baby. But she couldn't give the baby up. She wants to stay in the Philippines, at least for a few years where the family can help her."

The sudden snoring of a nearby co-detainee snapped Doug's mind back to his current predicament. He looked at this little cutie resting in his arms. There were never any doubts in his mind about paternity. It had however upset other plans he had thought about for him and Alona. He suddenly had instant family. That was not how he had seen his future. She was a beautiful child and had the same fair curly hair he had as a youngster. Her intelligence showed through in everything she did. Her verbal skills for one so young amazed everybody. Yet she spoke very little to Doug, almost being reluctant for him to pick her up. Doug secretly resented her rejection. He knew he just had to be ready when she finally accepted him. In the meantime he would bide his time. Then he would take advantage of the time when she did not have any option but to rely on him.

He looked around at those nearby and noticed Pater only a few feet away. He watched with interest at the way Pater was laying back. His posture did not seem natural with his arms behind him the way they were. Then he noticed that Pater was digging the ends of the wire mesh out from the ground with his fingers. Pater was making the hole under the wire larger by extending the base length. Any cursory inspection by a passing guard would not seem to show any difference to its previous condition.

# CHAPTER 26

## PATER'S PLAY

Pater had worked inconspicuously, yet feverishly, on an area where the bottom of the netting was already separated from ground. He had targeted this area immediately they were corralled in the tennis court. With effort, working the netting backwards and forward, he had loosened a wider area.

"Got something in mind?" Doug asked.

Pater looked at him as if he had no right to ask.

"It's a bit risky with all this lighting," suggested Doug.

Pater realised that Doug was not going to let it go.

"I've been expecting the generator to blow for quite some time. I want to be ready when it does," said Pater.

"Why should it blow?"

"Too much power being drawn off. They've left on all the lights in the houses. It always blows up when there's too much power being used."

"What are you going to do if you get out?"

"Don't know yet. It'll take them at least an hour before they can fix it so I'll have an hour or so to hide up. But I see they have a few pairs of night vision glasses, so that's going to make moving freely in the dark a bit difficult without being seen. None of our guards have them though."

"Anything I can do?"

"No."

"Can you swim?"

"Not very well, so I'm not going to get off the island without a banca, or something to keep me afloat. I'll figure that out once I'm out of here."

Doug watched Pater continue his freeing of the base and wondered if it was really worth the effort. Doug turned around to check out Pater's statement about all the lights. Yes, there did seem to be more lights on than he had ever seen before.

Pater just sat there, the task apparently completed to his satisfaction. He then closed his eyes, pulled the thick blanket out from under his rump and placed that over his eyes. His head was beside the loosened wire which was partly covered by the blanket.

Doug began thinking perhaps he too should break out after Pater. He knew he could easily swim 4-6 kilometres. If he got to one of the other inhabited islands he might be able to steal a banca. Once at Mercedes he could raise the alarm. Or if they were already aware of the trouble on the Island he could tell them who it was and roughly how many. Others would take care of his little girl. Most of the guerillas would not know who she belonged to unless they had been in the restaurant when he created a scene being separated from Alona.

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

Pater was satisfied. He sat back, and ignoring Doug, he pulled the thick dark blanket over his eyes to adjust them to dark surroundings. Even with the thick blanket over his eyes, Pater sensed the lights had gone out and the generator had blown. He steadied the thick blanket against the loosened wire, and pushed. It gave way easier than he had expected. Dropping onto his back, his head by the loose wire ends, he pushed outward and up again, then slid out easily through the gap. He was quickly on his feet and away from the court. His eyes were unaffected by the sudden change from the bright lights to darkness. He could see the four guards running and stumbling on the uneven surface, though they could not see him. He saw one run full speed into the tennis court mesh, bounce backward off it onto his back and cursed loudly. Pater knew he would barely have a minute before they regained some night-vision.

He ran for the eastern bush-covered end of the tennis court. Once there it was only a few more metres to the denser rain forest. Although aware of the noise he was making crashing through the undergrowth he was not worried, there was noise all around as inmates and guards were all yelling. He needed to put distance between himself and the guards before they were able to see.

He paused as he entered the jungle fringe to check if he was being followed; apparently not. There was only a lot of confusion behind him. He wondered how long before they would realise there had been an escape. After they found the gap in the fence a head count would be done. Once they had found one was missing they would count again to be sure. Then the hunt would be on. It was unlikely they would know which prisoner was missing.

Because he had been living on the island for many years he had an advantage over the searchers especially at night. Torches would be easy to avoid. That advantage would be negated if searchers had night-vision glasses.

Firstly he had to get back to his house to collect his kit. Making his way behind the most inland group of nipa huts, he walked on the fringes of the jungle. This gave him both the protection of the shadows from the moonlight and the ease of swift progress through the low undergrowth.

He had to get into and be clear of his house before the lighting was restored. If it came back on unexpectedly while he was still inside he would easily be seen. He would make his way back across fringes of the golf course.

Each time he heard the sound of running feet he stepped into the denser bush and pulled the thick dark blanket over his head to disguise his shape and cover the lighter coloured sheet. Once sure they had past him he continued on.

This time as he saw his little home from the edge of the forest, it did not seem like the sanctuary he always felt safe in.

He paused to look around before running to the shadow of the porch. Again he waited. No sound from within, he carefully mounted the porch steps. The sandals he was wearing crushed some of the shards of broken glass from his earlier altercation with the Filipino. There was sufficient moon-light for him to see that the body had been removed.

Firstly he went to the kitchen drawer and in the dark felt around for the sheath of the hunting knife. The first sheath he felt was plastic. That contained his diving knife with a leg strap. He fastened that to his right leg. Then he located his long hunting knife and tied the belt around his waist over the sheet. He would rub the sheet into the dirt later to make it darker and less reflecting. A dirty sheet would do well as extra cover. Pulling the cabinet away from the wall he felt for the belt of his E and E (evasion and escape) kit taped behind the cabinet. It was light. No weapons were included.

Next, into the bedroom, he pulled the pillow case off the pillow to use as a carry sack. From his clothes drawers he grabbed his multi-pocketed cargo-pants, socks, and a couple of T-shirts. His running shoes were partly under the bed.

"Damn," he thought, "bloody brand new Reeboks, and I'm going to bugger them running around the jungle."

Next he felt under the mattress for his .22 pistol. A gift from an Israeli Mossad agent he met several years ago. Though only a .22, it was silenced, and in the hands of the right person it was deadly. The standard ammunition it used was easy to obtain.

He checked to see if the magazine was in the butt, then grabbed the box of fifty rounds from the bedside drawer and threw that into the pillow case. He felt for the box of condoms and when he was satisfied that he had the correct box he gave it a shake as a quick check of the number inside. He cursed that there were fewer than he thought and then threw them into the pillow-case. There should be five non-lubricated condoms in his belt order kit.

Lastly he pulled open his wardrobe door and felt along the top shelf. He found his precious bow and his quiver with the dozen or so arrows inside. He quickly checked the small side pouch on the side of the quiver to make sure the spare string was inside. Realising that the arrows might fall out while he was running, he grabbed several pair of underpants from his drawer and stuffed them in the quiver to hold the arrows tightly.

"Bloody cowboys and Indians at my age," he muttered.

Back into his lounge he grabbed a lighter, some boxes of matches, a pen-light torch, some rope and fishing line. The kitchen cupboard yielded a few anonymous tins with labels that he could not make out in the dark. Then pushing a large handful of plastic bags he hoped did not have holes, into the pillow case, he ran out the door. He paused only briefly in the porch shadows before making his dash across the golf course.

A feeling of relief came over him as the shadows of the jungle swallowed him. He stopped to think about where he would go next to hide out for the day which was not too far away. Sitting with his back against a tree, he heard voices and saw a group of three, then another group of two, going into each house for a brief look around before re-emerging. He was pleased he had not dawdled or been delayed. Their reaction to the blackout was quicker than he had anticipated.

Although the jungle covered area of the island was not large, about half, with his local knowledge it was large enough to keep him out of the way of these intruders. He threw his swag over his shoulder, and made his way slowly through the thick jungle, trying not to leave a traceable path. He headed toward the general area of the pump-house. Maybe he might meet up with the missing German couple or the Iranians hiding out somewhere. If he could, he would avoid them. He preferred to be independent.

# CHAPTER 27

## DADDY, WAIT FOR ME

### APUAO GRANDE

The four guards were feeling confident about the security of their charges. They had ignored their strict instructions of maintaining position at each corner and had all gathered at the front entry, talking and laughing.

Suddenly it went black. There was no bang as Doug had expected. The sudden switch from bright light to pitch black meant that Doug could not see anything. He realised now why Pater had covered his eyes. It avoided the temporary blindness before readjusting themselves to the lesser light.

He quickly, but gently put down his little burden, wrapping her as he did so. Then felt for where Pater was laying. Pater had already gone. The guards were yelling and obviously stumbling as they tried to make their way back to their assigned positions. Doug's groping fingers soon found the gap created by Pater, and he pushed it hard. It moved easily. He quickly lay on his back and slid out under the wire. As he cleared his feet he could hear one of the guards curse as he fell over something in his blind rush. The dull light of the moon was starting to improve Doug's vision. He began to make out the bigger shapes of the buildings. He paused in a crouch ready to run toward the kitchen area of the restaurant. From there he would make his way along the nipa huts to the north and crawl down to the sea. He hoped none of the other guards he saw had these night glasses that Pater mentioned. He sensed rather than heard someone else also sliding out under the wire after him.

He sprang from his crouch and ran to the first part of his cover by the kitchen before pausing for the run to the nipa huts. There seemed to be other quiet footsteps behind him. He looked back but could not see anyone. It was easy for his imagination to be over-active with the yelling and panic from the guards.

The effects of the moonlight on his eyes were now helping his vision. That meant that the guards too would be better able to see. He could see the sea. He crawled up to the low embankment where the grass had stopped growing where it met the sandy high-water mark. Two bancas were pulled partly up on the sand just to his front. He would use that as cover as he first entered the sea. He paused again before beginning his slide along the sand. Who was it behind him? He could not see anyone else and he did not have time to stop and find out.

Belly down he began his crawl. He realised that where he had chosen was not the smoothest he could have hoped for. Broken shells were cutting his skin, especially his hands, knees and feet. Now was not the time for complaining. It was too late to change his mind. With some relief he made the shadow s between the bancas without being seen. Then seconds later he reached the sea but with mixed feelings. The salt water caused short sharp pains in every cut he had suffered on the way.

Strong torches were now playing up and down the beach and around the trees. Some were emanating from the restaurant and others were making their way along the beach further south of his location.

With strong strokes he began to pull away from the beach. He had to suppress a curse as he dragged his feet over an outcrop of shallow coral. Once past that he felt he was on his way.

As soon as he felt he was about one hundred metres out, he paused to look back at the shore. Standing near the banca where he had entered the water was a tiny little figure. It was about to enter the water as he had done.

"God, No!" he called out. It was his little girl.

"Daddy! Wait for me," she called out.

Doug could just make out the voice.

"Go back!" Doug pleaded.

"Daddy, please wait for me."

She entered the water now. Doug knew she could not swim. He saw the jerking light of a torch carrier running along the beach toward where she was.

Suddenly the water was deeper than her little body, and Doug lost sight of her as she went under. He panicked and started to swim as fast as he could back toward the shore. The torch carrier seemed to be playing his torch on the water where she had entered. It was obvious from the frantic jerking of the beam that the torch carrier could not see anything.

Doug tried to swim faster but could not seem to increase his speed. Another torch-light played out to sea picking him up in its strong beam.

He had to stop and tell them where to look.

"No, no, there by the banca!" he yelled.

The holder of the torch ignored his directive and continued to play the beam on him. Another figure joined the one holding the torch on him. Both were holding weapons at the ready and aimed at him.

"No, not me, my daughter! She's in the water! Save her, please!"

They continued to ignore his pleas.

Now in total panic he began to claw at the water as fast as his arms would turn. His feet seemed to be dragging and not responding to his demand for extra kicking.

Immediately his feet finally touched the shallows he stood and started looking around. The two guards waded in and grabbed him.

"No, not me, my daughter is somewhere in here, she can't swim. She's only four."

The guerillas realised what was happening and started to play the torch on the water around them. Another torch carrier joined them, and all four, including Doug waded in the water looking and feeling frantically for any sign of her.

Time was passing by too fast for Doug. He realised that every precious second was valuable. If she could not be found very soon it would be too late for any hope of resuscitation, if it was not too late already.

More figures now joined them and rapid words passed between them as more then joined the search.

Doug's heart fell more with every passing second. He collapsed on the sand sobbing as he realised that it was already too late.

"Why now, why?" he sobbed.

She had needed him and called out to him. She had called him Daddy for the first time. She had been in his total care for the first time too and he had let her down. It was the first time that Alona had left her in his care and he had let this happen. Why had he left her? Why had she followed him? He had left her fast asleep. How did she find the hole in the fence? Now she had vanished.

There were now about a dozen searchers, many with torches but still nothing found in the water. Two of the guards picked Doug off the sand and dragged him back in the direction of the restaurant. The others continued searching in the water.

How could he face Alona? How could he tell her?

The darkened restaurant was just to his front. A hooded figure brought Alona out of the dark into the moonlit patio at the front.

She pulled away from her guard and rushed at Doug throwing her arms around his neck.

"You're safe," she said.

He stumbled out some incoherent words which he did not know whether they made any sense or not. She suddenly released her hold on his neck and stepped back to look at him. Then she let out a long and piercing scream before falling to her knees on the ground, picking up the loose sand and throwing it anywhere and everywhere.

Doug just collapsed to a sitting position and watched helplessly as she repeated her screaming and throwing.

A short hooded figure placed a rug over his back, and two others moved over to try and console Alona who had now fallen fully prostrate on the ground, sobbing and beating her closed fists onto the ground.

Her actions continued for several minutes. The guards did not interfere. Eventually Alona's actions stopped and subsided into regular and steady sobs. Doug moved closer and put his arm around her. Then picking her up carried her into the restaurant.

Some candles had been lit on the restaurant perimeter casting an eerie light. The captives inside parted to make way for them as they entered. There was a lot of murmuring but no questions. Doug was thankful for that. Even the language being spoken around him seemed distant and strange to his ear. Maybe the guards were telling some of the others what had happened. His subconscious registered the sound of some women bursting into tears.

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

When the lights blew, Heidi and her group were patrolling the tractor path to make sure none of the less disciplined groups were taking the opportunity to ransack the houses. Immediately it became dark she yelled to the others.

"Sit down and cradle your weapons. Listen for noises around you and do not move. Wait for your eyes to adjust."

There was a quick translation to those that did not understand English. Then the group instantly obeyed and all sat.

While she sat and waited, she wondered who had got away from their earlier round-up and sabotaged the lighting power source.

She could hear the yells of panic in the distance emanating from the restaurant. She knew and realised it would have created panic not only among the prisoners, but also the guards. As soon as she felt comfortable in the reduced light, she stood and headed off at a trot to the restaurant followed by her little group. Some had not adjusted to the night and were stumbling in the dark. She hoped their weapons were on safety.

As she passed the Simpson house, she thought she might need the help of one of the staff to sort out the problem. She stopped and told one of her group to get a male staff member who knew about the power system, and bring him to the restaurant. She continued on with the remainder of the group.

Immediately she arrived, one of the guards from the tennis court ran over and advised that they had discovered a hole in the fence. They had to assume that someone might have got out.

"Get back there, and wait. I'll come and check it out as soon as I've finished in the restaurant."

The court-guard, span around and ran back in the direction from which he had come. She turned to the one in her group she had come to know as Domingo. He was the one assigned to her by Dandan as her main translator.

"Take one other man and check out that nobody has got out of the restaurant. They must have candles in there somewhere. They've used them on the tables. Get some lit and set them around the perimeter so they can see anybody crossing the light. That should make sure nobody tries a late escape."

Domingo nodded at one of the others and headed into the restaurant. Heidi stood outside the restaurant and looked at the still nervous restaurant guards crouched and pointing M16's at the helpless occupants within. She hoped there would not be a sudden panic from either side. This tension could make an over-zealous guard start shooting. If one started, the others would automatically follow suit. She was not so worried about the regulars that had spent time training in Libya, only the irregulars who were there to boost the numbers. They were an unknown quantity. A slaughter could easily result.

Boy's group arrived and Heidi noticed his men immediately moved into the restaurant and started saying a few words to each of the restaurant guards.

Boy came up to her side. Heidi could not figure out how he could select her from all the others wearing hoods.

"I hope you don't mind," Boy said. "I told my men to tell the guards not to be so jumpy, and not shoot at the prisoners. If they have to shoot, shoot in the air."

"Thanks Boy, You did well. Do you know what happened with the lighting?"

"Just a brown-out, they happen a lot in the Philippines."

"What's a brown-out?"

"Oh, just a loss of power."

Heidi thought the expression 'brown-out' as quaint.

"What caused it here?"

"Probably overloading the electricity generator. Too many lights on."

"You mean we're not part of a national grid?"

"No, the island will have its own generator. It'll be petrol or diesel driven. You must go through the houses and switch off all the lights to reduce the chance of it happening again when the power is restored."

"You organise that. I'll go to the tennis court and see what's happened there."

"Sure, while they're doing the lights, I'll check the beach," said Boy.

She was pleased he was not just a yes man. He had thought out his actions and his suggestion was practical.

"Get it done," she said.

He whistled, and within seconds his men joined him. He quickly told them what he wanted. They ran off in the direction of the houses as he headed for the beach.

She was looking forward to the sunrise. It was not too far off now. Then things might be able to settle into a reasonable routine.

Domingo ran to her from the restaurant.

"Something's happening on the beach. Someone's trying to swim away."

"Oh God, what next. Tell them to let him go. No shooting. It doesn't matter now if someone gets away from the island. We've virtually completed our preparation. Send one from our group to the beach to tell them to let him go. Then he can join us at the tennis court."

As soon as Domingo passed on the order he joined Heidi's group and they headed to the tennis court.

The guards were nervously wandering back and forward outside the perimeter with one exception. One guard was standing at the fence where even in the dim moonlight she could see the part of the wire pushed out.

"Domingo. Get the hostages to line up against the fence. Go inside and count them. I'll try and see if I can pick who is missing from out here. Take my torch and shine it on everyone's face so I can see them."

Even in the moonlight she felt she already knew who was missing. It was the face she first looked for, Pater's. He was the only real standout as determined and resourceful. There was more to his background than the staff knew or was prepared to disclose. He proved that by throwing one of her men through a window. He was not a man to be easily pushed around. The obvious preparation he had made for his escape in digging the base areas of the wire showed his escape had been thought out. He had anticipated the "brown out."

She was hoping it was him making a total break for it and swimming to another island. He would be a greater threat if he had stayed on the Island.

As the torchlight played on the other faces, she realised that Doug Maddigan and his daughter were also missing. Doug could not take his daughter with him on a long swim, so it had to be Pater swimming. Doug and his daughter should be easy to find, given time. The daughter would need feeding, and her crying, wherever they were, would give their position away.

Domingo came back and quickly confirmed that there were two adults and one child missing. Heidi was pleased she had paid attention to all the faces over the previous days.

As she began thinking about rostering her teams off for essential sleep, Boy ran over to her. From the nodding of his head she could see that something had happened that he was not happy about.

"We had one swimming away, it was Maddigan."

"What about the daughter?" asked Heidi.

"He apparently left her behind on the beach, but she must have tried to follow him."

"What the hell are you trying to tell me?" she demanded.

"She's vanished, we can't find her."

"What the hell do you mean?"

"We're searching the water where she went in. There's no trace, no trace at all."

"What are you saying? Has she drowned?"

"It seems so, but they can't find the body."

"Are you sure she's not with Maddigan?"

"Yes, Maddigan swam back to shore when he saw his daughter go into the water. We've got him. But we still can't find the girl."

"Jesus Christ, what else can go wrong in three hours? Does Alona know yet?"

"They're together now."

"Leave them together, tell the guards in the restaurant. Separate them from the others, but keep them under guard. Put them in the T.V. room by themselves. Just let them be together, alone."

"O.K., I'll arrange that now," Boy responded. "I'll be pleased when the sun's up."

"Me too," replied Heidi as Boy turned and left.

She stood there, feeling alone despite being surrounded by her masked group. She pictured the face of the little girl offering her a chip a few days before. She sensed the emotions that Alona and Doug would be suffering.

Heidi felt too many events were happening uncontrollably around her. Now it was worse because they now had a protagonist of unknown skills and determination hiding in the jungle. Pater might turn out to be an unpredictable enemy in his actions.

The sky began its daily routine giving light to the firmament beneath it. The cicadas had begun their welcoming chorus. Heidi felt mentally and physically spent and wanted to crawl off somewhere for a sleep. She knew it would be several hours yet before she could rest.

# CHAPTER 28

## THE REVEALING MORNING LIGHT

### MT. KANLAON, NEGROS

Warvic tried to sleep after the early news bulletins. Trying to sleep and succeeding were two different things. Perhaps it was the pain from the still aching muscles, or the sudden outbursts of cheering from those who had spent the night listening to the radio news-flashes.

At 7:00A.M., it was later than when she generally rose. It was also much more painful. She rocked backwards and forwards on the ground sheet to gain sufficient momentum to sit up. Even then her spine felt too long for the tightened muscles surrounding it.

"I'm too old for revolutions," she called out to anyone within earshot.

On hearing several subdued laughs nearby, she knew there must have been quite a few. She turned and looked. The faces all seemed beaming with large smiles.

"Well, what's been happening according to the radio?"

A flood of replies came simultaneously. She could not distinguish any one individual comment. The excitement on the faces showed they all wanted to be the bearers of good news. She held up her hand to get some silence.

"Seems like its all good news."

The immediate cacophony of agreeing speakers started again with the same indistinguishable results.

"Where is Comrade Arompak?"

Several willing advisers pointed to the lean-to erected where the wide band transmitter/receiver was kept.

As she made a move to get up several pairs of willing arms rushed to help. Unsure whether to take this as insult to her age or whether it was joyous enthusiasm at what they had heard, she did not care. It was less of a strain on her muscles either way.

Slowly she made her way to the lean-to, feigning yawning and arm stretching as a cover to try and ease the ache in her back and legs.

Suraido Arompak stepped out of the lean-to as he saw her approach.

"Good morning," smiled Arompak. "I had to stop the keen ones from waking you with all the reports coming in. They've been sitting by your mat waiting for you to wake."

Warvic felt embarrassed that some were watching her while she slept. She wondered if she had been sleeping with her mouth open, snoring, or even worse playing with herself in her sleep. For the first time in years she thought about her appearance and how she might look to Arompak. It was too late to do anything about it now.

"Oh Suraido, my muscles are aching, but good morning. It seems everyone is happy. What's the news?"

Suraido nodded his head and smiled broadly. "This diversionary part of the action has been unbelievably successful, if we can believe the radio reports. Several pro-Government radio stations have reported being attacked or taken over by rebels, presumed to be NPA. Others say armed invasions are reported all up and down the country by an as yet unidentified enemy. Enemy planes have bombed airstrips overnight sneaking in under radar. Navy installations have been bombarded from the sea, and some army bases in the country have reported ongoing attacks from tanks and heavily armoured vehicles. Isn't it wonderful what a lot of confusion and over-active imagination can do? Many reports are from areas where we know there's nothing happening. As for the radio stations being taken over, I wonder who has taken them over? Have they just gone off air in fear of retaliation? Who knows? Who cares? It's certainly gained the peoples' attention."

"Letseng yawa," replied Warvic. "Dammit, dammit dammit. If the confusion isn't straightened out quickly other countries might rush to the Government's aid with military assistance. The Philippine Government might request military assistance under the SEATO treaty which they can do if threatened with external aggression."

"I hadn't thought of that. I don't think it will take long for the real situation to come out. It's just that everyone here is so happy that everything's gone so well, so unbelievably well. Congratulations Warvic."

Warvic allowed herself a little smile of self satisfaction.

"Yes. You're right, and I'm pleased." She smiled and looked around behind her. The same admiring group that had been watching her sleep had followed her to the lean-to. They were all standing nearby watching her, still with big smiles on their faces.

They burst into applause when she looked at them and rushed forward to grab her. They lifted her onto their shoulders. She felt one or two stumble a little as they found there was a lot more weight than they had expected. Somehow Warvic felt the aches were not as painful any more. The group trooped around the cleared area yelling "OK, NPA, OK, NPA," in unison to their steps. Warvic felt insecure on the bouncing shoulders after narrowly missing being wiped off the willing shoulders by a couple of lower branches. She forced herself down to the ground and separated from the group to return to the lean-to. The group continued on their victory circuit seemingly oblivious of her departure, and continued their chant.

"Any news from any of the groups?" she asked Suraido.

"Not yet," he replied. "Orders were not to call in before midday unless something went wrong. We haven't heard from anyone, so everything must be OK"

"Yes, I know. But that's what worries me. Nothing should go this smoothly."

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

### APUAO GRANDE

T.A. had tried to ignore the hard surface, mosquitos, snoring, talking guards, and since dawn, the damn cicadas. If he had slept, it did not feel like it. His knuckles and ankles were covered with mosquito bites. They loved him.

He rubbed his itching ankles and fingers as he sat up and looked at his co-confinees. Many were still wrapped under sheets or blankets, seemingly asleep. A few were sitting, watching and waiting for the remaining internees to wake.

Some small groups were standing and talking. Four Japanese at the end of the tennis court were chatting away animatedly as they urinated through the wire toward the forest beyond. Two guerillas, standing very close to the fence-line, watched the Japanese doing their toiletry. They edged closer for a better view of the Japanese private parts. Suddenly, and in unison, the Japanese changed their aim, and although falling short, forced the guerillas to beat a hasty retreat. The Japanese burst out laughing. The other prisoners, who had been watching, cheered and applauded the action. T.A. grinned and then realised he too was yelling. It seemed to let off some of the tension and even more so when the retreating guards were then laughed at by some of their compatriots.

The sudden noise caused those still sleeping to stir into life. A steady stream of people then made their way to the same fence line where the Japanese relieved themselves, to do their own toiletries. Each time, the nearby guerillas backed a further few yards away.

T.A. saw another Japanese sitting on a bucket, shorts down around his ankles, seemingly quite ignorant of the loud straining noise he was making. T.A. was pleased that his bowels had not made any demands on him. He could not spot any toilet paper nearby and wondered how the Japanese would cope with that.

The morning sun was already starting to make itself felt. As T.A. stood he felt the pain from the bruises in his stomach and back.

"This surface will make us cook," said Gunther, who had come up silently while T.A. had been watching the squatting Japanese.

"Hi," responded T.A. a little startled. "I guess you're right. How did you sleep?"

"Not too well. I was worrying about Di and Carlos especially after whoever it was made a break."

"Pater, Maddigan and his daughter are missing. I don't know if anyone else got out, though. I haven't a clue how many Japanese there were."

"That German guy Helmut and his bird are missing," replied Gunther.

"They weren't here to start with, neither were the Iranians. So there could be a few out there," T.A. nodded toward the rain forest. "But from the commotion after they got out, it seems someone got caught."

Six guerillas arrived outside the entry all carrying swags made from a bed sheet. The guard on the gate motioned his gun at the nearby captives to move further away then he undid the padlock allowing the six guerillas to enter, drop their loads inside the door and leave.

There was an air of indifference in the compound to the arrival of the swags. The contents slowly revealed themselves to be a collection of hats, umbrellas, tubes of insect repellent, sun screen ointments, sunglasses, shorts, singlets, and sandals.

"Someone's put some thought into the collection," said T.A. as he wandered over to the now spread out assortment. He grabbed some insect repellent and a hat. The sunglasses had all gone. To be ready for another night he grabbed the corner of one of the sheets, let its remaining contents pour onto the tennis court and rolled the sheet up under his arm. It was not for protection against the cold but further protection against mosquitos, or padding for a pillow.

Gunther did likewise and took the same things. Silently he followed Gunther to where he had slept on the court. T.A. was noticing how territorial people were, even in captivity. Each one had marked their own personal area within their confines and laid out their few belongings within it. Few people, if any, would transgress these invisible properties without an invitation or an apology.

After putting on his hat and putting down his new sheet, Gunther followed T.A. to his patch.

"I'd invite you for breakfast Gunther but Malou's just popped out for a while and the stove isn't working," T.A. joked as he applied some insect repellent to try and soothe the itch.

"Just give me a cold beer," replied Gunther.

"I'll call room service."

They sat down together, backs against the netting fence both content to let the time pass in silence.

T.A. was thankful that for once Gunther was not talkative.

# CHAPTER 29

## PATER'S GUEST

Sleepily, and very slowly, Pater rolled his head away from the rough wetness licking his cheek and ear. It was like Ness waking him in the night when she wanted to play more sex games. But Pater was soon alert enough to know that it was not Ness. He did not want to move suddenly in case whatever it was also took fright and struck back at him with fangs. He decided to risk slowly opening one eye. He could not see what it was as the creature was now behind him.

Licking now began on the back of his neck. He tried to think what creatures salivated over their prey before killing them. He hoped the slow movement of his hand toward the diving knife strapped to his leg was imperceptible. The rubber safety loop over the handle was difficult to free without lifting his leg off the ground to release it. The bristles of the creature were now pushing right into the hair at the back of his head as it made a little grunting sound.

His hand closed around the handle of the knife. The folds of the sheet prevented him pulling the knife fully out of the sheath. He wondered how he could roll free quickly, and strike with the knife at the same time. He felt a light push on his shoulder and saw a grey bristle-haired body appear in front of his face.

"Shit Fred, you bastard." Pater, relieved, realised that the restaurant dog had found him and was nestling into him for attention. He breathed out the tension he had felt.

"You fucking little shit."

Fred's head moved back and forth as though looking at him quizzically wondering what the fuss was about.

Pater sat up quickly concerned his little outburst might have been heard by anyone nearby. Fred moved away as Pater made a quick grab for his pistol to be ready in case a face came peering into his little bower.

After listening for a short time he was satisfied that there was no other human presence. Fred meanwhile had sat a couple of feet away looking at him. Pater looked back and felt a grin come onto his face. He was pleased to have company, any company. He had never felt this pleased to see the little terrier before despite Fred having just given him a huge fright. Fred often followed him home from the restaurant after the evening meal and slept on Pater's porch on an old blanket in a box that Pater had provided.

As he thought about it he wondered about Fred's ability, or lack of it, as a watch dog. The only times he had ever heard Fred bark was when he chased the turkeys. Fred's presence might be a danger. He would befriend anyone that fed him and might lead the wrong people to this hide-away.

Pater knew he had not had much sleep but it was enough for now. He would take a siesta later at the hottest time of the day. The guerillas would be less active at the same time too. Even Filipino guerillas would find difficultly breaking habits of a lifetime.

From now to then, he would carefully reconnoitre to see what he could do to strengthen his weak position.

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

Heidi delivered a walkie-talkie to Helmut at the sand-spit to Little Apuao. He had little to report. One of Helmut's groups had been to the small barrio to tell them what was happening. They displayed a total disinterest only asking whether they could leave the island to fish. After being told they could, they asked not to be dragged into any conflict, or put in any danger. After reassurance the barrio head thanked them and told the other assembled villagers. Heidi decided not to tell Helmut about the problems of the escapes and the little girl at this time. He was a man of few questions and he knew better than to ask. He was here on a mission and Heidi knew his temperament could not really be bothered with the problems that she was beginning to feel.

She sat down, back against a tree, two metres from where Helmut sat and watched his eyes move slowly and steadily over the cover of the rain forest of the nearby island at the end of the sand-spit. The angle of her sitting allowed her to see Helmut's profile. She could see the family resemblance between, Helmut and his older sister, Gerda.

Heidi was surprised at the sudden thought of Gerda. She had not thought about her for quite a while, but now Gerda suddenly seemed an important part of this mission.

It was during Heidi's second year at the over-crowded Catholic Church-run orphanage in West Berlin she first met Gerda and Helmut. It was just before her thirteenth birthday when Gerda arrived with her talkative and rowdy young brother. Because Heidi was the same age as Gerda she was asked to be Gerda's mentor and they were put in the same dormitory. Helmut, still only seven, threw such a tantrum about being separated from Gerda that he was allowed to share Gerda's small bed in the already over-crowded orphanage.

Heidi, quite aware of her own plain looks, was happy to have a genuine and very pretty friend. Gerda was the prettiest girl in the orphanage by far. Heidi was vaguely aware of the problems that accompanied pretty girls, even pretty boys, in the orphanage, but it had never affected her directly. She had never been called to any of the Brothers' offices at strange hours.

Within days of her arrival, Gerda was summonsed to the office of one of two Brothers whose eyes she had caught.

That began Gerda's abuse at the hands of the Brothers. The demands were also sometimes made during the day but most frequently after lights out. If she was summoned during the day, outwardly Gerda showed no emotion or reaction to the sexual abuse that was taking place. She was protecting her young brother, Gunter, from even knowing what was happening by explaining that her absences were because she was needed to help with extra homework. At night, after these abuses, when she got back to the dormitory, and if Gunter was asleep, she would crawl into bed with Heidi and cry herself to sleep in Heidi's arms.

One night, several months after their arrival, a Brother came to take Gerda to his bed. Finding that Gerda was already with another of the Brothers, he grabbed a sleeping Helmut, despite Heidi's protests. Helmut's screaming could be heard throughout several of the nearby dormitories.

When Gerda returned she found a still inconsolable Helmut sobbing in Heidi's bed. Heidi remembered the look of hatred on Gerda's face when she discovered what had happened while she was out of the dormitory. She took Helmut to her bed and sang one of the many songs she regularly sang quietly to him each night until he fell asleep. Then when Helmut had fallen asleep, Gerda got into bed with Heidi and made Heidi promise that if anything ever happened to her, that Heidi would take care of Helmut. Heidi swore she would on the dictionary that her Mother had given her only days before both her parents had been killed in a car smash.

The next night Gerda was summonsed again. Heidi thought it was strange that Gerda had not returned by wake up time the next morning.

Soon after breakfast, all the orphans were surprisingly ordered back to their dormitories. Then, mid-morning, two men in dark suits collected Heidi, Helmut and their few belongings, and without explanation took them on their first ever aeroplane flight. They were left at a new orphanage in Saarbruchen near France.

Helmut had changed overnight. He was no longer outgoing and loud, but withdrawn and silent. He had made no protests about being separated from Gerda or being with Heidi.

It was not until three years later that Heidi learned what had happened. Gerda had stolen a carving knife from the kitchen then killed and gutted first one then another of the Brothers that had been abusing her. The Brother who had abused Helmut was found dead with his penis removed and stuck into his own anus. Then Gerda slashed her own wrists and sat locked in one of the toilets until she died.

Heidi never had the courage to tell Helmut what had happened. He already had enough suppressed hate for several dozen people. They were both very anti-establishment and very ready recruits for terrorism when they were approached.

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

Pater intentionally avoided using the paths in case he ran into any of the guerillas. His extra caution and the thickness of the rain forest made his progress much slower. Both times paths needed to be crossed he paused for several minutes listening for any changes to the familiar sounds of the jungle. Then he crossed quickly. He wanted to be reasonably close to the pump house because several of the pipes taking water to the restaurant were still above ground. Some had minor leaks therefore he could get water from them as he needed it.

Quietly, within 100 metres of the pump-house, he checked out some of the side-paths known only to a few locals and barely discernable at their entry. On one he found a table-size cleared area 25 metres off the main path and three metres into the bush of the side-path. It was covered in cogon grass slightly raised above the other parts of the jungle floor and drier than its surrounding area. He risked a quick inspection from the side-path and was satisfied that his hideaway and its entry were invisible to users of either path, though he would have at least partial sight of any side-path users.

In case he needed to shift quickly, he did not empty all the contents of his pillow-case kit he simply covered it with leaves to disguise its outline. Some of the food and kit he would cache elsewhere in case his first hide-a-way was discovered.

He checked his .22 pistol and its loaded magazine and wrapped it in one of the pairs of underpants he had stuffed in the quiver. He put the .22 inside a larger than normal pocket of his cargo pants. For the first time he was pleased that his bow was a re-curve bow and not one of the more common compound bows as used at the restaurant. He could easily run with his bow unstrung, or if needed, have it strung up and readily carried across his body. Strung up and across his body was probably wiser, as the time and considerable effort was needed to bend the bow to fit the string. That meant it could not be readied quickly to fire an arrow. By contrast if he had a compound bow, the pulleys and counter-pull string guides would prevent his carrying it over his chest.

Pater stood up and pulled down on the top of the bow with all his weight to bend it, then slotted the string into the grooves. He pulled two arrows out of the quiver to be handy if needed. He looked at the tips of the arrows and felt disappointed that they were target heads not the barbed hunting type. The target head would not do as much damage as the hunting arrows which were designed to cut on entry and maximise damage by cutting blood vessels and muscle tissue.

He knew they would be looking for him now. He also knew that he needed sleep. Laying the blanket over the cogon grass he pulled the now dirty sheet over him. He had no fears about the jungle creatures that would crawl over him in his sleep. As he felt sleep start to overtake him he hoped that he would not snore loudly. Ness complained he did. Snoring could easily give his position away. He thought it would be good to have his Ness with him now. She was as resourceful as he was. There was no-one among the guests that he felt he wanted with him as help. They all seemed too soft for what he wanted to do. Now that his kit was checked he could sleep.

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

T.A. was amazed so many slept so easily. Not because of the events of the previous few hours but because of the hard tarsealed surface they were laying on. He could possibly understand why the Japanese could. They were used to sleeping on futons, on a hard surface. Maybe even understand that those like Gunther and Graham, in their state of intoxication could sleep irrespective of where they were. But some of the others that T.A. thought were light drinkers had succumbed to sleep. Thankfully the children were all quiet.

The snoring of several nearby was another reason he could not sleep. He kept on thinking about Malou and hoped she might have got some sleep for at least part of the night. Then he remembered how quickly and easily she seemed to be able to sleep under any circumstances.

After the panic when Pater, Doug and his daughter got out, T.A. could only try and guess what had happened to them. Someone, if not all three, had been caught. The guards had been more diligent in their duties since.

T.A. looked at the still forms sitting or lying around the tennis court. He tried to work out who else was missing beside the Germans and the Iranians. He did not know how many Japanese there were supposed to be so he did not know if they had all been caught. Perrhaps there were others who had not been picked up. He slowly scanned the still forms around him again. He did not know if any Filipinos had got away. Even if there were some guests running free outside, what could they do against such well equipped insurgents?

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

Heidi felt control over what was happening was slipping from her grasp. Yet, with the exception of the restaurant shooting and the escape, all the objectives had been achieved. Perhaps it was just tiredness. She had to beat this feeling. She did not know how long this mission was going to last and she should not be feeling this spent already.

The muggy heat had drained her energy more than she expected. She was aware of that, but having to wear the hood at all times meant that she was heating up more than usual. If she could focus on the plan she had formed over the preceding days, it might get her mind re-organised and back on track.

The plans started to flood back into her mind. But rather than easing her panic she felt it was adding to it. There were many things she had planned to do immediately after first light and they were still not done.

She told her group to wait where they were. Going into the nearby Brooke house she wanted to urinate and wash her face in the hope that it might help clear her mind. Although she had conducted her ablutions before in the company of men she just needed a few minutes to herself to regain her composure.

While she sat on the toilet she thought about the events leading up to the present. She closed her eyes at the thought of the quiet friendly fat old guy lying dead on the bar. She took a deep breath, then, burst into uncontrollable sobs at the realisation that the actions of the mission had caused the death of the old guy and probably the death of the pretty little girl too. The old guy had been so insistent that she cover herself from the suns rays to prevent painful sunburn. When she did get too burnt one day, he simply gave her a cream to rub on the pain without making any comment about her stupidity in not taking his advice. The little girl, as well as giving Heidi one of her precious chips, had also asked Heidi to look after her doll, while the little girl went to the toilet. Now they were both dead.

After washing in the cold water she felt ready to start the day as intended, before things went awry. Feeling confident, she walked out of the house and back to her group.

"If any of you want to go inside and freshen up, you've got fifteen minutes."

There was a little discussion in her group after Domingo translated and four of the group immediately ran into the house.

While waiting, Heidi let her mind run over the things she had to organise in the next few hours before she could take a break, and possibly grab a few hours sleep.

She did not know how long she had been deep in thought, but as she looked up from her seated position with her back against the tree, her little group were back together, standing and waiting for her to start the new day.

She looked at the masked faces and wondered if they were smiling or sneering at her. Their eyes gave nothing away. One, then another stretched out their arms for her to grab and help her up. She now felt that at least it was not a sneer.

The group followed her to the beach by the overhanging tree where the .50 calibre machine gun was set up. She was surprised there were six people here.

"Anybody here speak English?" she asked.

"I do ma'am," responded one of the six men around the gun. Four of them were asleep.

"I want you to move the gun up onto the grass and off the sand, but still under the tree. Cover it enough so that it can't be seen by anyone approaching from the sea."

"OK ma'am."

"Unfortunately you're going to have to hurry a bit. It's quite possible that the daily banca of tourists might still arrive from Mercedes. They probably don't know what's happened here yet. We don't want anyone seeing weapons, and we don't want any passing boats to spot anything. OK?"

"Yes ma'am," responded the obliging little man. "We'll have it all set up and hidden in less than 10 minutes. The extras here are from the barrio group to catch up on sleep. They'll be going back shortly."

"I'll make sure a walkie-talkie radio is given to you so we can pass on any instructions. I expect it all to be quiet for a few more hours."

"Thanks ma'am. Any chance of any food or drinks?" asked the little man.

"Yes. As soon as the gun is set up one of you go to the restaurant. Leave your weapons behind and get some food and drinks for all of you. I don't want guns to be seen from offshore. After eating, the extras must go back to the barrio. One of you can sleep while the others keep watch. "

"Yes ma'am, thank you ma'am."

Heidi walked off the beach to the tractor path between the houses where they had gathered some of the hostages the night before. As she walked toward the restaurant she turned to her little group.

"Where are you Domingo? I need your interpreter skills."

One of the escorts hurried to catch up to her.

"I'm here."

"When we get to the restaurant get someone from the staff to organise cooking. We must have continual supplies of food ready and distributed to everyone in the field as well as feeding the hostages."

"Yes ma'am. I've been told there is a good supply of rice and most other basics."

"Good. Get someone else to gather up containers to deliver water on a regular basis to everyone. Tell whoever is to deliver them, that they are not to carry any weapons or walkie-talkies. I don't want weapons seen."

Heidi's real reason for this instruction she kept to herself. She was more than a little worried about Pater wandering around the jungle. He could easily overpower a lone man delivering food and water to the others, and take his weapon. It would be worse if he got hold of a walkie-talkie. He could remain one step ahead of them.

"We can probably buy fish from the local barrio if we let them go out normally," suggested Domingo.

"Good idea. Tell the group guarding the kitchen. I will make the payments."

Heidi felt a little guilty that she did not trust any of the group with money payments. She had been long enough in the Philippines to know that everyone else would try to make a profit.

In case the daily banca from Mercedes still arrived at the normal time, they would have to be ready for it. One way to find out if it was still coming would be to make the normal daily radio contact with base in Manila. She would need the co-operation of one of the staff who knew the radio system.

Twice daily, the resort called Head Office in Manila by radio telephone. Each time to check on incoming passenger numbers and to advise about departing passengers who wanted accommodation on their return to Manila. Other general information regarding needed supplies was also passed on. Heidi knew from overhearing previous communications that the conversation was stilted if the manager was around, but flowed freely if he was absent. So there would be a plausible reason if the Manila staff thought the conversation was stilted.

The morning call to the resort was always between 7:45A.M. and 8:00A.M. Heidi felt she had enough hostages and hoped the incoming banca was cancelled. Until official word of the take-overs was announced nationally it was up to her to keep the events of the previous night secret from the outside world.

She turned to her interpreter Domingo.

"Send one from our group and find Boy or Dandan. Whichever one you find I'll meet by the pool as soon as he can get here."

Domingo nodded and translated to one of the others who immediately ran off in the direction of the local village barrio.

"Gee," said Heidi, I'll be glad when we can use the portable radios to send messages."

"Why not now?" queried her interpreter.

"Just security in case someone else around the area happens to be tuned in. Once the news of the takeovers is public, we'll distribute and use them. Until then; no."

She led the group to the umbrella hut by the pool and sat on one of the cleverly cut and inverted truck tyre tubes that formed a comfortable seat.

The guards on the perimeter of the nearby restaurant seemed as relaxed as their captives within. Some hostages were still lying on the floor on makeshift mattresses dozing. Others were seated in small groups speaking in hushed tones and looking around like guilty children. The cicadas had reduced their early morning crescendo to their steady morning hum.

Heidi sensed the approach of another group and looked toward the trailer and carabao path that ran between the ex-pats houses.

"Tired?" came the voice from behind the mask.

Heidi recognised it as Boy.

"Yes, it will be good to have a little sleep."

She stood up from her comfortable seat.

"You wanted me?" asked Boy.

"Yes. It's strangely peaceful again isn't it? Just like it was before this happened. We've changed this paradise to hell for everybody. Anyway, I want you to get one of the staff to make the normal morning call to Manila. Act as if nothing has happened here. But get our caller to find out if anything has happened in Manila or anywhere else."

"OK, but what about the morning banca. Do you want any more tourists?" asked Boy.

"No. We'll take them in if we have to. Split them up straight away on their arrival. Can I leave that to you?"

"Sure," replied Boy, "but we better greet the banca without weapons except for a couple of hidden pistols in case the banca driver gets funny about having strangers greeting them."

"No, you'd have to remove your masks. Get the guard and one other staff to meet the banca. The guard is already terrified and won't cause a problem. Just in case, have two of you men stand nearby to hear any of the conversation. Someone might try to get a message out. Your men will have to disguise themselves. Tell them to wear a diving mask."

As Heidi finished, a masked guerilla came running around the restaurant from the beach, and began muttering something to Boy.

Boy turned to Heidi and she noticed him nodding his head side to side.

"What is it?" asked Heidi.

"They found the little girls body trapped under a banca near where she went into the water," said Boy.

Heidi felt her heart sink as all the breath left her body. Unconsciously she closed her eyes to suppress the possibility of tears. Although she knew there had been virtually no chance of the girl being found alive she had still hoped for a miracle.

Boy went on. "It won't be possible to get the body out until the tide rises a little more. She's been crushed under the banca. What do you want done?"

Heidi felt her stomach give a sickening turn as she imagined the heavy weight of the banca crushing the tiny girl. It was a few seconds before she felt the bile in her throat subside enough for her to speak. Why was she feeling like this now? She had seen other dismembered bodies before and felt nothing.

"Get two of the men into snorkelling gear when the tide lifts the boat. When they can get the body out, make sure nobody in the restaurant can see. Wrap the body and put it in the banca with the other three bodies. I don't want Doug and Alona to see her. Later today somebody can take the banca to sea, out of sight of the restaurant. Weigh the bodies down and toss them into deep water."

Heidi hoped the shakiness she could feel in her voice was not obvious to the others. She felt relieved as Boy turned to his men and give instructions in his language. Four left in two groups of two in different directions. Eventually he turned back to Heidi.

"They'll see to the little girl," he said quietly. "I couldn't do it myself. I don't want to see the body."

Heidi felt inward relief. It was not just her feeling the disappointments. Boy was feeling it too. She had been wondering if she was becoming involved, and too soft to successfully carry out the mentally testing parts of the operation. No, it was not that. On previous missions she had not been in lengthy contact or never met the victims. But these people on the island that she had life and death control over were not faceless strangers.

"I'll see to the radio transmission myself," continued Boy.

"O.K., I'll check Helmut's group at the sand-spit to Little Apuao then check the ridge position. What about the locals in the barrio?" asked Heidi.

"Dandan relieved Rico and Lorna a while ago. Their group is catching a little sleep where and when they can."

"Yeah, there are some on the beach. I'll pass out the walkie-talkies shortly. I'll set them up for selective paging and give everyone a list of which number everyone has. I don't want them used before the morning banca arrives, O.K.?"

Boy nodded. He pointed toward the beach.

"They're in a plastic wrapped box under the tree, twelve I think. Batteries already included."

"I might as well get them now," responded Heidi.

One of her group anticipated her instruction, gave his M16 to a colleague and ran off toward the beach. Within two minutes he was back with the box on his right shoulder.

Together Heidi and Boy tore off the plastic and opened the box. They each extracted one from the individual plastic wrappings and attached the flexible aerial.

"On the paging, you'll be number seven. I'll use the number one, Helmut will be two. Aziz and Raji three and four, Ali and Mohammed five and six. Dandan eight, Rico and Lorna, nine and ten. I'll keep the other two with me for now. I'll give number eleven to the machine gun group under the tree."

"OK," responded Boy.

Heidi slid the walkie-talkie pouch onto her belt, slipped the radio into it, gave a tired "follow-me" wave of her hand, and turned away from Boy to walk in the direction of the sand-spit to begin her rounds.

Boy sat on the seat vacated by Heidi. He similarly fastened the pouch and watched as Heidi walked past the tennis court. He switched his gaze to stare into the sparkles of light reflected in the swimming pool.

"It did not seem fifteen hours since he'd been cooling off in the pool with some of the other guests that he now held hostage? More like weeks." he thought.

# CHAPTER 30

## THE GREATER CAUSE

### APUAO GRANDE

Heidi's gave Helmut his w/t and was pleased Helmut's group looked very relaxed. Then, back past the tennis court prison, she took the path through the rain forest by the court toward the pump house. She had walked this path several times with Helmut in the previous days as they familiarised themselves with the island's geography in readiness. She remembered slipping once near the pump-house on the wet area where the pumps were leaking. The inefficiency of the resort owners in allowing leaks to remain unfixed amazed her. It was a waste of resources.

She noticed many different sandal tracks around the pump-house and wondered if any belonged to Pater. She was sure that if he was still on the island he would be around this area somewhere. She felt Pater was a veteran of some conflict somewhere else. There were too many footprints to try and analyse now.

Several less used paths ran off the main path. Some she had followed with Helmut. Most seem to lead to nowhere in particular and many were reclaimed by the rain forest through lack of use.

Pausing as she cleared the last of the trees at the steep approach to the ridge, she looked up toward the defensive positions she had chosen to be dug out. It took her a few seconds to spot some. Set just below the top and both sides of the ridge, to avoid any silhouette against the horizon, they had been well prepared and disguised. She felt pleased. Presumably those on the other side of the ridge had been as well prepared. Each of the pits had been dug a metre below the ridge-top so they did not break the skyline. Preparations spotted from out to sea would not reveal those immediately over the ridge. Each was near enough to the top to give support cover over the ridge if required.

It was a steep climb after they cleared the rain forest. Each side of the ridge was covered in knee high cogon grass.

As she neared the first position a black hooded figure emerged from the grass.

"Everything all right?" asked the figure.

Heidi recognised the voice as Mohammed's.

"You've done well here," she replied, despising the fact that she had to concede that they were well prepared. She turned to one of her crew who had anticipated her request and handed her a walkie-talkie. She passed it on to Mohammed.

"You are number six on the call buttons. I don't want them to be used except for emergencies or if you see anything happening offshore. You be the judge of when to call. Here is a list of everyone's numbers." She handed him a copy of the list.

Mohammed looked at it, nodded, folded it and put it in his rear pocket.

"I don't expect anything to happen in our area for a while. I still want us to be alert. One of the European hostages got away last night. So keep an eye out. After I drop off the last of the portable radios, I'll arrange for a launcher and some stingers to be brought up."

"Good," replied Mohammed. "We should've been properly ready before. If I see your lost prisoner he will be sorry when I shoot him."

"No, he is not to be harmed," replied Heidi.

Mohammed ran his finger across his throat in a cutting motion.

Heidi let it pass. Each meeting with these Libyans made her start thinking if she could arrange for them to have fatal accidents.

"Domingo," Heidi turned to her little group interpreter, "tell the Filipinos that breakfast will be here shortly."

She turned back to face Mohammed, "Your's too, but it will only be the same as all the others."

Mohammed said nothing.

"I'm sorry about your friend Mahmood 1," said Heidi.

"I heard about it," Mohammed replied without any obvious emotion in his voice. "He was a hothead and a fool. At least his life was lost in the greater cause. Anyway there are still five Libyans to make the operation succeed."

Heidi wondered what greater cause he was referring to and wondered if there was a hidden meaning or threat in what he was saying.

They stood in silence while Domingo gave the brief message to those nearby. She saw each of those spoken to pass the message on to another. Heidi was surprised from where some of them appeared. They were very well hidden, though probably sleeping.

Aziz arrived, after scrambling up from the steeper seaward face of the ridge. Heidi gave him his walkie-talkie and the paper listing the call numbers.

"Your number is on the paper along with everyone else. Is everything all right?" asked Heidi.

She noticed Aziz look at Mohammed and obviously decided not to say whatever had entered his mind. Heidi sensed an enmity had built up between the Iranian and the Libyan.

"Yes, we're all set up. Where is Raji?"

"Covering the staff hostages held in the Simpson house. Call him later on your radio and talk to him," replied Heidi.

She hoped that Aziz would get the hint. She wanted Aziz to contact Raji and hoped that Raji would pass on any message to her. Heidi felt she could trust the Iranians.

When Domingo returned to the group Heidi walked on below the ridge toward the golf course, her little group following. As she started on the down-slope, Domingo came up to her shoulder to walk beside her.

"I don't trust that first man," he said.

"Neither do I." replied Heidi.

She quickened her pace to move ahead of Domingo. She did not want the topic to be carried any further.

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

"Gunther, shouldn't we be trying to do something rather than sitting around on our arses?"

"I been thinking about that," replied Gunther.

"Any thoughts?"

"Too many guns. Jesus I could do with a beer though," said Gunther.

That last sentence, thought T.A., was one reason he felt he could not count too heavily on Gunther. His dependence on alcohol seemed to be a craving during all his waking hours. As he thought about it, it was the first time he had seen Gunther without a beer either in his hand or nearby, apart from when he was water-skiing. He even had beer on the hobie-cats and took a six-pack on their round of golf.

"What are the Japanese talking about?" said Gunther, nodding toward them.

T.A. saw the Japanese sitting in a circle in mid court suggesting that they wanted to talk out of earshot of the guards. It was unlikely any of the guards understood Japanese but it was a good precautionary measure. Many Filipinos' had worked in Japan, but they were mostly women. The Japanese were deep in discussion about something. From the occasional group "Hai" or "Eeay," he could tell of group agreement or disagreement.

It seemed typically Japanese to organise resistance by committee. Not individual originality, but group consciousness. As a group decision, one individual could not be blamed if things went wrong. Therefore no one individual would lose face. If the plan did not work, it would never be thought of as a bad plan. The failure would be thought of as having happened through circumstances beyond their individual control.

"Good luck to them," said T.A.

The two Swiss tourists were talking to the Swiss diving instructor. T.A. noticed that generally each nationality congregated within their national groups with the exception of Gunther and him, and he did not really want Gunther for company. Perhaps he was more of a loner than he had thought himself to be.

The Swiss group looked over at him and nodded. He nodded back. T.A. wondered what they were planning.

Each time he tried to think of some way to escape, his mind drifted to Malou. If he did get out, should he try to get her out as well, or would that put her at risk? If he did get out, would her being with him reduce his chances of remaining at liberty? If he did not get her out, what might happen to her? How long was all this going to last? From the continual movements past the tennis court by various groups of hooded guerillas, they seemed to be organising themselves for a long stay.

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

Heidi sensed something in the back of her mind was trying to force its way to her conscious mind, but the nagging thought would not emerge. As she left Rico and Lorna's group and walked along the well-worn track to the restaurant, she wondered if the body of the little girl had been recovered. She would check after visiting the beach machine gun site.

It seemed the nagging thought surfaced each time she thought of the beach siting of the machine gun. Was it badly sighted? No. Now it had been shifted onto the grass under the tree, and camouflaged, it was virtually invisible to anyone offshore. The tree gave it invisibility from over flight from aircraft. Was that it? If it was required to shoot at aircraft it would be hindered by the overhanging branches. No, she had considered that. The thought would eventually surface. She tried to ignore it and concentrate on more pressing items.

She realised her group might be feeling hungry. They had not complained. She was used to skipping breakfast, but that did not mean those in her group felt likewise. Perhaps she too should eat before checking the machine gun crew, and ask about the little girl's body. Otherwise she might be put her off her food.

Near the southern-most and sea-side end of the ex-pats' houses she stopped. She turned to her little group following behind her.

"Anyone hungry?"

A short burst of interpretation followed and all the group members nodded their heads vigorously in the affirmative.

"Thank you ma'am," said Domingo.

"Domingo, get two of the group to go to the restaurant and get some food for all of us. We'll wait inside this house here for them," she nodded toward the beach-side house.

Domingo gave instructions, and two of the group handed their weapons to their compatriots before setting off at a run toward the restaurant. They stopped briefly to exchange a few words with another group moving along the path toward Heidi.

Heidi's curiosity about which group they were, was soon solved when she recognised Dandan's voice.

"Good morning," he said directly to her.

Heidi could not understand how she was easily picked out from the others. She was the same height as most of the group and the loose fitting garments hid her feminine shape. Most European women were about the same size as the average Filipino man.

"Hi Dandan," she responded. "Dandan," she asked with an inquiry in her voice, "how does everybody know which one is me in the group?"

"Lots of different things. Close up it is easy, even with the mask on. You have blue eyes. And you stand differently from the way a Filipino stands."

"Oh, I thought it might have been something more obvious than that."

She noticed that Domingo and one of the others subdue a little laugh. She was not annoyed that there was a little joke at her expense.

"Come on Dandan, what else, my tits are not that large that they stick out."

This caused more laughter amongst from those who understood English.

"It's really quite easy. You are the only one of us wearing a pair of pink Reeboks."

Heidi instantly looked down. Below her track suit pants were the now very dirty pink Reeboks she had bought in Manila on her first day. The ones she found so comfortable but had kept hidden since she had been on the island so as she could wear them during the mission.

When she realised her obvious exception to the group, she burst out laughing, and was joined by the others.

"Dandan, does it make me seem to be non-Filipino?"

"No. A Filipino is a man. A Filipina is a woman. A Filipino would only steal them to give to his wife maybe. Or, if he was a gay Filipino he'd keep them for himself."

"That obvious eh?"

"No. It's just that I noticed them while we were waiting for the bancas to arrive last night. I told all the other Filipinos that if they wanted to know which one was you, then look for pink Reeboks."

Another group came toward them from the restaurant.

"It's Boy's group," said Dandan, "they had their breakfast after we did."

Boy stepped away from his group and walked directly toward Heidi.

"Did you recognise my pink Reeboks?" asked Heidi.

She noticed Boy cast a quick glance in the direction of Dandan.

"No," he replied.

"My blue eyes then?" Heidi enjoyed this light interlude, especially when members of all three groups giggled.

Boy seemed a little embarrassed.

"Well yes," Boy stammered, "it made it easier for all of us."

"It's OK, Dandan told me after I asked him."

"Oh. I came to tell you that they got the little girl's body out," said Boy.

"Have you hidden it?"

"Sort of. One of the men in our group used to be a doctor in his other world. I asked him to take a look at the body."

"Why?"

"I don't know why, I'm just not sure about something. I feel something isn't right about it. It may be nothing."

Heidi was going to pursue the point then decided to let Boy tell it in his own way. Besides if there was anything else she did not want it discussed with so many others around.

"Tell me about it later when you've talked with your doctor. And anyway, why wasn't I told that there was a doctor among the men here."

"I didn't know there was one. It was him who pulled the body out. He told me then, he thought there was something wrong, but wouldn't say what."

"O.K., what was it?" asked Heidi, now curious.

"For a start the body had no clothes on."

"Oh shit! What are you suggesting?"

"I don't know yet, I'll let you know as soon as he finishes. He said he had to wait until most of the seawater flowed out of the body," replied Boy.

"I want to know straight away."

Heidi knew she would not eat breakfast now. At least the others would be fed.

"Dandan, I want your group to take a launcher and some missiles to the ridge."

Dandan nodded a response and headed toward the beach. Boy lowered his head in a submissive fashion and called something to Dandan as he departed.

"What was that you said?" demanded Heidi.

"I said I would let him know what happened when I find out. He thought the little girl was a little sweetie. She reminded Dandan of his little girl that died."

Heidi had not even considered that some of the guerillas might have children. The natural Filipino look made them all seem too young to be fathers.

"We all thought she was special," replied Heidi.

Boy nodded in agreement.

"After you've checked with Rico and Lorna, take another launcher and missiles to Helmut to set up with a small group on the north side of Litttle Apuao. We don't want to have a sneak attack from that side. O.K?" she asked.

A feeling of uneasiness and mystery seemed to encompass them all.

Boy turned to his group and after a nod they headed off in the direction of the barrio.

The something that had been nagging in Heidi's mind seemed to want to be recognised with such strength that it was almost giving her a headache. Whatever it was, it would not reveal itself. For now it had to wait. She cursed the distractions. She had forgotten to ask about the radio contact with Swagman Office in Manila. When her group had eaten she would get the mission radio transmitter/receiver for her group from the beach and listen in to see if anything was being reported from the other groups.

"C'mon Domingo, let's go inside the house and see if there is anything worthwhile in the fridge. I'm feeling thirsty."

Once inside, the group sat on the chairs while she rummaged through the refrigerator. It yielded several small packaged fruit juices. She spotted beer, but left it where it sat. She did not want her group drinking alcohol. She passed out the fruit drinks to the eager recipients and put two aside for the Filipinos who had gone to the restaurant.

She sat in a seat arranged to look out through the tinted window at the panorama of the bay. From here she could see about seventy percent of the bay. Her armchair was swept by a large fan swinging through a 90 degree arc. It was the coolest and the best she had felt for hours.

"Perhaps we could set up our little Headquarters and the radio here?" she said to Domingo.

He nodded in agreement.

Heidi knew it was exposed. Technically not a good choice, but she could see a lot from here and not be seen from outside. It was only fifty metres from the nearest rain forest cover. It would do for now. At least it would keep her out of the heat of the sun. If she was indoors, even in front of the window she could remove her mask. The mugginess, even though it was only mid-morning, had been making her sweat more than usual, up until she sat in front of the fan. The mask had been reducing natural heat loss. She rationalised her choice as one of necessity of having to remove the mask to prevent heat exhaustion. It would only be a split second operation to put it back on again.

As soon as the food bearers arrived it was being snatched off them by the others, apparently ravenous. The food carriers were carrying out a fast conversation with Domingo. Heidi realised that something had happened and waited until Domingo had the full story before asking.

"They found out about what's been reported from Swagman in Manila," said Domingo.

"Yes, yes, go on," Heidi impatiently responded.

"A lot of confusion. The boatload of extra tourists to the island were delayed by the news of a national uprising and decided to stay put in Mercedes."

"Good, less for us to worry about," interjected Heidi.

"Yes, but funny. It's a little like hiding in the lion's house. Mercedes is a strong NPA area. They probably would've been safer here. At least here there is some discipline."

"Do they know that we're on the Island?"

"No. The only reason they didn't come was because they don't yet know what the national situation is. Military and police bases were hit right throughout the country, including the local militia in Daet. There was even some bombardment from the sea, so Swagman thought it safer that the tourists stay put for the moment."

"Go on, go on."

"There was no news about us," Domingo looked almost dejected about it.

"Domingo, we're only a part of this whole thing."

Domingo looked at her curiously.

"We are one of dozens of tourist facilities taken over," Heidi went on.

"Why?"

"To get world publicity, without mass murders. Then to get out as quickly as possible, without getting caught."

"You mean we're not trying to take over Government?"

Heidi began to think maybe she had said too much.

"That will depend on the people's reaction to what has happened." That, thought Heidi should cover her loose tongue.

"But I want to know what was heard on the radio, so go on," she insisted.

"Well, apparently there were calls on cellular phones to radio stations in Manila from some people on Boracay. One balik-bayan claimed hundreds of NPA had taken over the resorts on the island. He was hiding. Other mobile phone calls have been made to hotels in Manila that Americanos or balik-bayan had stayed in, before going to Boracay. They phoned from different resorts telling what has been happening."

Heidi knew that Filipinos called all Europeans "Americanos." Her captives had little chance of grabbing a phone before being incarcerated.

"What has been reported?"

"Well," Domingo went on, "the Air Force was going to send a helicopter to Boracay to investigate. Normal telephone and radio links throughout most of the country have failed."

"Gee, they'll be in for a welcome," commented Heidi.

"Do they have the same weapons as us?" asked Domingo.

"Yes, and I imagine a lot more," replied Heidi with a grin.

# CHAPTER 31

## FLYING VISIT TO BORACAY

### KALIBO, PANAY, near BORACAY.

Captain Felipe Ramigoso checked his Iriquois helicopter very thoroughly for any damage after the early morning raid. Two of the twelve helicopters were destroyed and a further three were damaged too much to fly before major repairs had been done. As pilot of one of the seven remaining functioning helicopters, and the first having completed the post raid inspection, he had been ordered to check the mysterious phone calls about insurgents on White Beach at Boracay.

None of the pilots had been on the base at the time of the raid. He had slept peacefully through the whole thing. Even if he had not been staying with his girlfriend, he would have been at his parents' home. All pilots went off-base at night-time. Only a skeleton staff remained.

Some pilots returned immediately to base when they were woken by the explosions. Others were summoned by military police to be on stand-by. But he had arrived at his usual time of 9:30A.M. unaware of what had happened. The MP's had not been able to find him.

The Squadron Commander had ordered his crew to check out Boracay as punishment for being the only one off the base to arrive late. He felt it was not fair on his co-pilot and side gunners to punish them for his sound sleeping. Maybe he could repay them with an unauthorised landing to check out one of the beaches of Boracay.

The rotor blades were already turning as he climbed into the pilot's seat. His co-pilot had completed all the pre-flight checks.

Ramigoso was quite happy flying these Vietnam vintage Iriquois helicopters, affectionately known as Hueys after the earliest HU 1 version. If they had not been surplus to American requirements after that war, and given to the Philippines, his Government would never have had any aircraft for him to fly.

Six soldiers strapped themselves into the seats of the cabin behind him. The doors had been permanently removed to lighten weight. While his helicopter was not fitted with the pods of 19 x 2.75 inch rockets, he was happy with two other Air Force personnel manning the side mounted M.60 machine guns. They sat with their legs dangling into space as he took off.

Everybody had a relaxed holiday feeling as they headed toward Boracay. Ramigoso had never been there as a tourist, though he had flown past on area familiarisation. His first flight past had been when the helicopter group transferred to Kalibo Airport six months ago. That transfer meant he could stay with his parents who were locals. He could use this "investigation" flight as an excuse to land, and have a look at the facilities the foreigners had available.

The Base Commander insisted, for this flight he use a new call sign. He was concerned that someone might be listening in to the military radio, be familiar with the call signs and therefore be ready for their arrival. Ramigoso was to use "Looker One" and not to refer to the destination other than "Lookers Place". He was happy to go along with the word game.

As they moved out to sea to approach Boracay from offshore, he could see the normal activity of fishermen plying their usual livelihood from their bancas. They waved greetings as the helicopter flew over them. Nothing seemed out of place there.

After flying up the east coast of Panay, he cut overland at Ibijay then up the west coast. Some of the hills of Boracay were both high and steep. So he would make his approach to White Beach from the sea to the west, and slightly into the 10:00A.M. sun. The reflection off the beach was quite bright. He realised if he had thought more about it before beginning his approach he would have done it differently. If there were any people on the southern part of the beach, he could not see them at this stage.

He kept low, barely above the calm sea. The plan was to swing in over the southern-most resort at Angol, near the gap in the reef. Then fly south to north over the four kilometres of the long white sandy beach. He warned his gunners to ready themselves when he saw the beach ahead. Some of the seated soldiers shifted in their harnesses to help in support fire if they could, but mostly to act as extra spotters. The machine gunners had pulled their legs indoors. He switched his helmet microphone on to speak to the gunners and warned the right hand gunner that he would have the first run up the beach.

Just before he drew level with the beach he lifted the helicopter's height to about one hundred and twenty feet and increased the speed to near maximum of 100 knots. With the beach about 100 metres to his front, he kicked the pedals hard to make a sharp left turn keeping the white beach about 80 metres off his right hand side.

He nervously concentrated on keeping the height and speed constant, yet ready to begin a sharp left turn and a drop to about twenty feet if they started to receive incoming fire. His co-pilot was using binoculars to scan the front and right of where they were flying. The four kilometre straight run seemed to take forever, but was done in less than two minutes.

At the end of the long white beach Ramigoso pulled left and westward out to sea and slowed to 60 knots.

"Well, did you see anything?" he asked his co-pilot.

"Nothing, not a soul," replied the co-pilot.

Ramigoso switched over to speak to his gunners. They affirmed that they had seen nothing. Next he leaned back towards the soldiers in the cabin behind him. He had to yell at the top of his voice to overcome the noisy rotors.

"Anybody see anything that looked out of the ordinary?"

All the heads turned toward him and all shook in the negative.

"Well," Ramigoso said to his co-pilot, "maybe the call came from one of the other beaches. But I'm sure Base Commander said the main beach."

His co-pilot shrugged.

"O.K., I'll do a closer slower run, north to south this time. Tell the left side gunner to be ready this time."

Ramigoso pulled the helicopter through a 180 degree right hand turn and headed back to the northern tip of the beach again approaching from out to sea.

He dropped his height to eighty feet and began his run closer to the beach along the line where the sea met the sand. He started his run at 30 knots and looked along the beach himself as he flew.

After about 300 metres, it suddenly dawned on him what was strange. This was supposed to be a popular beach resort. Several bancas were pulled in to the shore as he expected but there were no people on the beach.

"Where are all the tourists?" he called out to his co-pilot.

"I can see a few people in the bancas in front of us, I didn't see them before," the co-pilot replied.

Ramigoso looked toward a group of several bancas close together a few hundred metres to his front. He spotted a few people sitting inside them looking toward the approaching helicopter. He slowed his speed almost to a hover about fifty metres away.

Immediately he had done so, he wished he had not. Dozens of men suddenly appeared from the bottom of the bancas brandishing weapons and firing toward them. He screamed into his helmet mike as he tried to gain height and speed with a right hand turn to get out to sea. The left side gunner had not needed his warning. He was already spraying bullets in every direction of the 150 degree arc he could reach.

For the gunner it was self preservation, he was fully exposed. Ramigoso knew the helicopter was too low to dive for additional speed. Bullets began smashing into the front screen. Shards of the plexi-glass were pitting into his face. He was thankful he was wearing sun-glasses. He could hear the fire from the left hand gunner and possibly from some harnessed soldiers with their M16's. The screen to his left, where his co-pilot sat, began receiving hits from inland fire. It seemed an age before the helicopter began to react to his control. The slow response of the helicopter to turn was making him too easy a target. He wondered why his co-pilot was so quiet and controlled through the firing, and looked toward him. He was just sitting there, hands frozen clutched around the handles by his seat.

Ramigoso felt a sharp pain in his left shoulder and instantly lost all strength in his left arm.

"Take over, I'm hit," he screamed at his co-pilot as the helicopter had begun a slow spin and passed beyond the 90 degrees needed to turn right. Ramigoso waited for the co-pilot's confirmation call of "I've got it" and for the co-pilot's feet to take control of the pedals. But the pedals seemed to have a mind of their own as the helicopter continued on its slow circle, now heading back toward the beach. The incoming fire was now from the right. The right hand machine gunner had begun firing back.

"Take over," Ramigoso screamed again, and looked toward his co-pilot. The co-pilot's eyes were wide open, staring straight ahead.

"Take over you gutless little bast...," Ramigoso stopped mid sentence. His co-pilot would never hear him or anybody else again. Blood ran down his nose from two holes in his forehead, and flowed onto his zip-jacket top. He would not have felt a thing. He must have been hit at the very start.

While he fought to gain more control of the pedals with his feet, he felt a hard punch in the stomach. A quick feel in the stomach area with his good left hand revealed that no blood showed on his hand from any wound in that area. The response from the pedals was too slow. He seemed to be fighting an unseen hand in manipulating the controls. He realised that the dead co-pilot's feet were still on the separate set of controls pedals. That was making Ramigoso's pedals stiff and unyielding. Small-arms fire continued to come through the now almost non-existent screen. Yet he had not felt any more hits to himself.

The helicopter had not lost any more height and was continuing its lazy circle. The left side was again exposed to the incoming fire. He noticed there was less return fire coming from behind him then it stopped altogether. Perhaps the soldiers had jumped out. It was only about 20 feet to the shallow water below them, and they were still only 30 metres offshore.

The Base Commander would need to be told what was happening. He reached for the R/T switch with his good right hand and noticed the top of his middle and index fingers on his hand were missing above the second knuckle. The R/T switch was hanging loosely from the control stick. He tried to use the alternate on/off foot switch for the radio but in his panic he could not find it. Looking down, he noticed the side of the pedal was bent slightly upward. It too must have taken a hit probably saving his foot. The stiffness of the pedals was not just the co-pilots feet but the damaged pedals themselves. With the radio useless, he would try and get as far away from the island as the helicopter would carry them, before ditching.

Pushing both feet on the left pedal with all the strength he could muster, the helicopter finally started to fly a straight path away from the beach and out to sea. How it was still flying he could not understand. If the soldiers had jumped out, it would lighten the weight and increase the helicopters chance of escape. As much as he tried he could not increase the speed much above the 10 knots that he had slowed to before the shooting began.

He was already passing over the outside reef and nearly a kilometre away from the beach. But the engine power was reducing. All the gauges had stopped functioning after the screen took the first hits. The revolution gauge had been reading zero since then.

The helicopter skids began touching the sea surface. Then the blades stopped rotating altogether. The helicopter cabin began to settle comfortably on the surface like a wading seagull.

Ramigoso felt under his seat for his life jacket, but could not find it. The first of the rising seawater began stinging the severed fingers of his hand as he continued to feel for his life jacket. He tried reaching under the co-pilot's seat but the pain of his left shoulder and the restraining safety belt prevented it. Clumsily he tried to release the seat belt safety catch with his still good fingers, but it would not release. Pulling the belt up a little to examine why the catch would not release, he saw that it had been crushed, presumably by a bullet that would otherwise have hit him in the stomach. That must have been when he felt the punch. The bullet had jammed the belts safety- catch.

He knew he did not have to panic. The sea here was probably too shallow to allow the whole canopy to sink below the surface. He hoped he had not gone too far outside the reef and into deep water. If not, he could just wait until the level of the water was sufficient to allow him to float out the top of his seat belt.

The cabin began filling more rapidly. Ramigoso was feeling nauseous and faint from the pain and loss of blood. The sharp pain in his throbbing fingers prevented him passing out. It kept snapping his consciousness to the safe awareness he needed to get out of his predicament. When the water level rose to his knees, he felt a sharp pain shoot up his spine, and saw the blood flow in front of him. His knee had been hit and he had not noticed. The extra pain pushed him over the edge of consciousness and he passed out. On-shore the guerillas watched the helicopter sink in the deeper waters outside the reef. Within seconds, even the last bubbles had gone. They realised it would be unlikely for the wreck to be spotted from the air as the Tablas Strait was deep in that area.

# CHAPTER 32

## REACTIONS

### MT. KANLAON, NEGROS

Although pleased with the success of the diversionary attacks being reported on all the news stations, Warvic was concerned about the lack of any reported news about the tourist resort takeovers.

It was still too early yet for the first group to report in. Therefore her only news was through the radio stations. Orders about groups contacting, other than for emergencies, were to be strictly followed. Despite that, she was impatient to know about the successes or otherwise of the main mission.

Suraido walked up to her sun sheltered position under the banana tree where she sat.

"No news from any of the groups," he said. "I suppose that's good news. What's the old saying? No news is good news; still, the lack of radio news about the resorts is worrying me."

"Just what I was thinking," Warvic replied.

Suraido sat down beside her.

"The first call is not meant to come in until 1:00P.M. There's been no emergency calls, so everything must be O.K. It is a good plan, Warvic."

"Thanks Suraido."

Raul, her faithful little aide now came toward her, a big smile on his face.

"Maybe I've got some news that you've been waiting on," Raul said.

Warvic sat up quickly.

"What is it?"

"One of the radio stations reported that there is a report that Boracay Island is in the control of rebels. They received a telephone call from a balik-bayan who was staying there. He escaped into the rain forest, and called his cousin who is an announcer at the radio station."

"How could he call? There are no telephones on Boracay. Did he have a walkie-talkie?" asked Warvic.

"No, he used his mobile cellular phone. He was a Filipino living in U.S.A. who had come home for a holiday."

"I wonder how many other balik-bayan brought their phones with them?" asked Warvic rhetorically. Then wondered how many guests at all the resorts might be Filipinos returning from overseas for a holiday. All were called balik-bayans by Filipinos who had never been overseas.

"Is that a bad thing?" asked Raul.

"It could be dangerous at the end of the operation when the escape phase begins."

"Why can't you warn them to search for mobile phones? Each group has to call us. Tell them then," said Raul.

"Raul, the calls must only be one way. We are only to listen in to reports. If we call back, our position could be triangulated. The group instructions are for them to make their own decisions."

Raul looked to Suraido for support. Suraido only raised his eyebrows in response.

"We just have to wait," Suraido said.

Raul nodded his head in agreement and walked back to the groups sheltering under the trees.

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

### KALIBO, PANAY

"Why haven't we heard from Captain Ramigoso?" asked the Base Commander, directing his question to the Radio Operator.

"The last contact was when he advised that he was passing over Ibijay, sir," replied the radio operator.

"Have we made contact with the radio station that got the original report yet?"

"Yes sir, they were told to get the caller to contact our base with his phone. He was given the correct number."

"I want to talk to that guy direct."

"Yes sir!"

The telephone beside the Radio Operator rang. The Base Commander snatched it from the R.O.'s hand.

"Yes," he snapped.

"Sir, Corporal Mingoc here."

"What is it?"

"Sir, I think I have that caller you were expecting from Boracay."

"Put him on."

The phone clicked over on the transfer.

"Kalibo Base Commander here. Who are you?"

"I won't say, because my family are still being held in the Boracay Beach Club Hotel. I don't want any reprisals against them by the rebels," the caller said.

"Where are you from?" snapped back the Base Commander. "Where are you and how come you weren't taken hostage with the others?"

"My brother, his family and I are balik-bayan. We came home from San Francisco for a holiday. We brought our parents to Boracay for a treat. I wasn't taken because I was staying in one of the barrios overnight instead of at the hotel. The locals all seem quite pleased about what has happened."

"O.K., who are they?"

"The NPA."

"Shit," the Base Commander unwittingly reacted.

The caller went on. "They called into the barrio telling the locals what was happening. They have taken over all the resorts. The guests are hostages."

"O.K., where are you?"

"On the highest peak of the island. It's got a name but I don't know what it is."

"We sent a helicopter, did you see it?"

"Yes. It made a pass up the length of the beach. On its way back along the beach they shot at it and it headed out to sea."

"What happened to it?"

"It came down and settled way out to sea."

"Were there any casualties in the crew?"

"Lots. Some fell out when the helicopter was spinning. They just fell into the sea. I don't think any of those who fell out were alive. It was too far away for me to see if there were any others when the helicopter sank."

"What weapons did the NPA use? Do you know your weapons?"

"Not very well. They all sounded the same. The guys on the bancas were all carrying weapons."

"What bancas?"

"There are several anchored just off the beach. They all have NPA on board. They hid during the first helicopter run and hit it on the slow return flight."

"Where else are they?"

"All over, I think. The firing at the helicopter came from the bancas and around the resorts."

"Are you sure all the shooting sounded the same, no heavy machine guns?"

"I don't know. They all sounded the same. The shooting from the helicopter sounded different."

"Can you stand by?" asked the Base Commander.

"Yes," the caller responded.

The Base Commander turned to his Second-in-Command.

"I want all six of the remaining birds fully armed and ready to go at a moment's notice."

"Hello, hello," the caller's voice interrupted.

"What is it?" asked the Base Commander.

"I can see some hooded men about 100 metres away on the path. They're coming closer. I'll have to hide for a while. I'll call you back as soon as I can."

The line went dead. The Base Commander turned to his second-in-command.

"Dammit, get those birds flying he barked."

"Yes sir, does that include using the rocket pods?"

"Hell, yes, I'm not taking shit from any NPA bastards, wherever they are. Yes, fit the rockets. I want them to blast the fuck out of anything that moves."

"What about the tourists, sir?"

"Fuck the tourists! We'll cover that up later."

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

### APUAO GRANDE

Pater opened one of the tins he had snatched from his darkened kitchen cupboard several hours before. He was pleased several of the tins were spaghetti. It was his favourite breakfast. Fred watched him puncture the can with his diving knife and cut around the rim. Pater started to eat it off the end of the knife, carefully aware of the danger of being too blas? in its use. Cutlery would have been an unnecessary luxury. Fred's eyes were appealing for a share in a way that Pater could not resist. He flicked a quarter of the tin's contents in Fred's direction. Fred finished his share before Pater had finished his next knife full.

"Sorry Fred, I don't know how long my little supply will have to last."

Fred almost seemed to shrug, turned and made his way out through a small gap in the entry to the bower that Pater had created for himself.

"Thanks Fred," remarked Pater at Fred's disappearing rear.

"I take you out for dinner and you piss off. Well, it's happened before, with women. They were much better looking than you. You're not even a bitch, just a real dog."

Pater finished his spaghetti, then, thought about his need for water. It was not an immediate need but he would have to make sure he had a comfortable supply for later. If he found a tap on the pipe it would be easy to fill the condoms. They made the easiest water carriers. Although it would be safer to wait for nightfall it would be easier to get the water while he could see in the daylight. At night he would be groping around, while someone wearing night vision glasses would see him easily. At least in daylight he would be on equal vision terms with the insurgents, binoculars excluded.

He cursed his lack of forethought in not getting a pot to collect water in. The plastic bags would have to be tied over a leaking pipe if he did not find a tap, then empty the water into the condoms and tie the tops. He hoped he had not punctured any plastic bags on branches during his run to the bower.

He listened carefully for change in the rain forest sounds, though still limited by his ear problem. Satisfied there were none, he eased through the cover around his hide-away. Once back on the minor trail he paused to check that his exit could not be seen. He was so satisfied that he began to think he might miss it himself if he was hurrying back. To reduce that possibility he looked around for nearby landmarks, and to familiarise himself with the exact location. Sure he would now remember, he made his way slowly and quietly in the direction of the main path to a wet area he had passed over during the night.

The wetness had to be caused by a leak in the water pipe to the resort. Unfortunately it was on the side of the main path. If he was alert enough for approaching danger he could fill one or more plastic bags to bring back to his hide-away. Once he had a good supply of water he would reconnoitre further to see where the NPA were hiding.

When he got to the main path he paused again. He lay prone and looked in both directions up and down the main path from its minor offshoot. Satisfied there were no obvious signs of people coming, he emerged. Fifty metres slightly downhill he found the slow steady leak from the pipe. He scooped out a deep hollow under it, and folded back the edges of a plastic bag. He placed the bag carefully in the hollow underneath the dripping water.

The slowness of the steady drip made him realise this was going to take longer than he hoped. If he sat waiting for the bag to fill he would be exposed to risk for too long. He would leave the bag to collect the water and hide nearby until it was satisfactorily filled, then replace it with the second bag. The bag could be easily seen by anyone observant enough, but probably would not they realised its purpose. To help disguise it, he laid some twigs around the edges of the plastic.

The forest was thick in this area. The problem was not one of insufficient cover, but where best he could find a place he could enter easily without leaving any sign of his entry. He found a place ten metres further down the path close to where the path took a sharpish left turn. It was a risky choice as he could not see anyone approaching quietly from further down the path where the restaurant was situated.

He sat and waited twenty minutes before re-emerging to check on the bag. It was only a quarter full. That would have to do. Carefully he gathered in the top of the plastic bag, squeezed out the excess air and tied it at the top. It was easy to carry like this. He would transfer the water into the condoms in his hide-a-way, and wrap them in his spare clothing for protection against sunlight and accidental puncture. He put the replacement bag in the hollow.

A sudden rustle of leaves startled him. He looked up to see Fred rush downhill past him and around the bend in the path. He felt like swearing at Fred's departing rear. Fred uncharacteristically burst into a series of barks. Pater's instinct made him dive into the forest to his front. No time for precaution now about his entry.

"What had set Fred off?" Pater wondered.

He remembered that Fred always barked at the turkeys. Just in case it was not the turkeys he would wait.

Pater looked at the partly-filled plastic bag and grinned at his luck. It was still intact holding its precious water.

Enjoyment of this discovery was short-lived. He could hear someone cursing, obviously at Fred. Fred re-appeared from beyond the bend. Pater felt a surge of panic. Fred might run straight into the bush where he was hiding. Thankfully, he ran past him, and back up the path to wherever he had come from.

"Thanks Fred," thought Pater.

Within seconds Pater watched the lone masked guerilla pass by his spot. The guerilla was carrying two covered buckets, but no weapons. As the guerilla past by, Pater got the aroma of cooked fish. Despite his feed of spaghetti he felt hungry again. The guerilla did not spot the water-collecting plastic bag, and passed by.

Pater realised how lucky he had been. Fred could share his next tin of spaghetti too.

He wondered how long it would be before the food carrier would return. It would be a risk continuing to gather water here. He should have hidden at the outside corner from the start so he could see both ways for anyone approaching. He would hide there now. Fred had given him another chance.

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

### KALIBO, PANAY

The Base Commander watched his reduced flight of helicopters lift off, heading north toward Boracay. Only three of the Iriquois were fitted with the rocket pods. That would do. He had the advantage of knowing about the guerilla loaded bancas and would not fall into that trap. He instructed his pilots to destroy them on the first run in from the sea, then to destroy any areas from where ground fire emanated. He did not get any information from the caller about guerilla numbers. However many there were they would not be a match for his little gunships and their rockets. The pilots were instructed not to break radio silence until the action had begun. Then it would not matter if the NPA were on the military wavelength or not.

# CHAPTER 33

## FIREPOWER

### WHITE BEACH, BORACAY

The guerillas sat comfortably high on the hill where they had established themselves in the early hours of the morning. The Group Leader joined them about an hour after the first helicopter visit. He looked at the panorama of the glistening white sands to his front.

Midday had barely past. From here he could see the whole beach. Even with a slightly sun-hazy seaward view to the horizon he estimated he had clear visibility of about twenty kilometres. Over the slight ridge at his back he had a similar view. Whichever way any attack came from, he would have plenty of notice. The binoculars were good with the yellow filters attached. Even the darker areas of the island forests were clearer.

The hilltop group had set up two .50 calibre machine guns and three stinger missile launchers were loaded and ready in case any helicopters came over or towards the ridge from either direction. Other launchers were spread around the island.

From here they could bring down any escaping helicopters. Their line of sight was better than anywhere else. The stinger would fly better if guided right to its target with a longer line of sight lock-on.

They did not have long to wait. In the distance he could see the low fast south-easterly approach of six helicopters. The group leader pressed his walkie-talkie button once, paused, pressed it six times, paused and pressed it three times more in the prearranged code to indicate the type, number and direction of the incoming aircraft.

On hearing the six buzzes, the guerillas in the bancas immediately jumped off the land-facing bows into the knee-deep waters. They ran up the slight incline of the beach and took cover in the many huts at the edge of the sand. The pre-arranged order was to change their positions if more than one helicopter was sighted. The Group Leader did not know if the previous helicopter had transmitted any message through to his base warning of the guerillas in the bancas.

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

The helicopters approached at close to their maximum speed of 100 knots toward the mid-point of the beach and just south of the group of bancas. A quick course correction saw the group split into three sections of two helicopters. Each pair had one rocket armed helicopter and one armed only with the side machine gunners.

The first salvo of rockets from the leading helicopter at the bancas was wide and short of its target. They exploded harmlessly on and around the nearby shallow reef and water. The accompanying partner had swung wider and opened up on the bancas with .50 calibre fire as it swept past.

The second pair followed a similar path. The aim of the rockets from the second pilot was better than that of the first. His salvo exploded directly among the group of bancas. Other bancas further up the beach were now being successfully hit by the first helicopter and its accompanying partner's machine guns. The tandem operations were going just as the pilots had practised many times. This though was not practice and these targets might start shooting back.

The third pair had swept southward doing the same damage to the bancas in their path.

Rockets expended, the pairs now turned from each end of the beach and headed back toward the centre at top speed intending to cross about halfway.

The Group Leader on the hilltop waited until the groups were about five hundred metres apart in their rapid closing movement. He pressed his walkie-talkie button and held it down.

In response to the signal, automatic weapon fire from over 150 weapons' sites within range erupted. Bullets interspersed with tracer rounds streaked toward the helicopters from nipa huts, from the tree lined middle area of the beach and from higher ground on the sides of the hills. This time the deep and heavier sound of the M60's joined in with the lighter M16's. The .50 calibre bullets easily ripping into and through heavy engine parts and tearing the fragile tail rotor blades.

Within seconds, and before the helicopters had even begun return fire, the third helicopter in the northern group lost its tail rotor. It plunged into the sea hitting one of the bancas it had fired on minutes before. One of the two southern helicopters engine had burst into flame. It began to veer rapidly out of control toward the beach, losing height. It hit the white sand, flinging its soldier passengers out at crash speed to be killed on impact on a beach they had always wanted to touch as a tourist.

The four helicopters still flying had suffered varying degrees of damage. Smoke wisped from the engine of the number two in the northern group. The pilot and co-pilot of the number four helicopter were both dead, but the helicopter managed to keep a straight and level course along the beach. Once the four remaining helicopters crossed paths, three veered out to sea away from the island. The one with the dead men at its control continued to fly south attracting more southerly fire as it came into the range of the gunners not part of the first eruption of fire.

The Guerilla Group Leader worried that the helicopters heading seaward might escape, pressed one long buzz and two short buzzes on his walkie-talkie. Within seconds, trails of eight stinger missiles were streaking after the seaward retreating helicopters from several different directions.

Three balls of fire erupted about two kilometres out to sea. The trails of five wasted missiles continued through the smoke past the now scrap metal targets and exploded in the sea one or two kilometres further on.

The sole surviving helicopter, with its dead pilots at the controls, continued its southward course until hitting the hills at the southern end of the beach. It exploded in a ball of flames.

Feeling pleased with the action, but managing to withhold an outward display of his emotions, the Group Leader looked at his joyfully shouting comrades. After they had calmed down he remembered that it must be getting close to his "call in" time. He checked his watch; they would have time to eat a quick meal before his 1:00P.M. report to "Tour Organiser". He felt his part of the mission was achieved. The Armed Forces of the Philippines would definitely know they were here now. He would make his report; then begin the escape routine.

Some of the group would merely go to the local barrios to be taken in and hidden as arranged. Others would remain hidden for a while in the ample rain forest. The bulk of them, including the Libyans that arrived during the night on the bancas, would need to salvage what were left of the serviceable bancas and skip on the short seaward trip to the jungles of Panay with the unused ordinance. From Panay, the Libyans would make their own way to pre-arranged embarkation points.

After the 1:00P.M. call, the radio equipment would be superfluous. A small amount of semtex explosive from the box supplied would suffice. He would also have to get rid of the remaining semtex explosive. He could not leave that in the forest. He would solve that problem by using it all with a 30-minute detonator to destroy the radio. He grinned at the thought of clearing a 20-metre wide area of jungle in the explosion with barely a cigarette packet-size lump of explosive.

Before the others departed he would arrange for all the hostages to be either tied up, or securely locked away.

For him and most of the other Group and Section leaders, escape was easy. They merely had to dispose of their masks, change back into civilian tourist clothes, and rejoin the other guests. They would only delay their re-entry into the world as tourists sufficiently long enough to enable their colleagues time to escape. Then, playing the role of resort guests that had not been gathered up by the guerillas, they could free the hostages.

Possibly they would even be treated as liberating heroes, advising that the insurgents had gone. They could chat freely with the former hostages about their luck in escaping the original round-up. Maybe even boast a little about their ability to remain at large ever since. The masks and conformity of all the guerillas' clothing made no one person stand out. Their anonymity had been totally protected. He might even stay around during the aftermath and enjoy a real holiday. After all, he and the other mercenaries were all paying guests.

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

### KALIBO, PANAY.

"Base Commander to Looker Flight Group, respond please."

The Base Commander turned to his Radio Operator.

"You can't just lose them like that," he snapped at the unfortunate R.O. "Hell, I was just talking to them. Nobody goes off air like that. What the hell did you do?"

"Nothing sir. Maybe there is a black spot because of the mountains around there," the R.O. offered apologetically.

"Black spot my arse. The only black spot around here is the one that'll be up your arse. I'll kick it in if you don't get them back now."

"Yes sir."

The Base Commander turned to his second in command.

"Jesus. Bloody useless equipment. We get a call from Looker Leader that they had destroyed all the bancas. He said there was no return fire. Then they stop talking to me. What are they playing at?"

"Maybe the R.O.'s right sir," offered the Second In Command. "Maybe there is a black spot. All the radios can't have failed."

"And where is that bloody anonymous phone caller? Black spot my arse. I'll have those pilots grounded or suspended when they get back."

Sitting near the Base Commander a corporal was studying a map of the area where the helicopters had flown. The Base Commander grabbed the corporal by the tunic front, pulled him out of his chair and pushed him away, then collapsed into the chair, leaned back and cupped his hands over the back of his head locking his fingers together. Suddenly he swung forward and thumped both his fists on the desk.

"Black spot my arse."

# CHAPTER 34

## COMMUNICATIONS TO TOUR ORGANISER

### MT. KANLAON, NEGROS

"The first calls will start shortly," Raul reminded Warvic.

Her little aide was always fussing over things of which she was already aware. Early in their time together, it used to be irksome. She would snap back at him. Now, he had been with Warvic so long, she just accepted this character trait without comment.

"Thanks, I'll be there in a minute," she responded. "Make sure you've got all the call lists with you." Warvic was referring to the various group call signs and their times for reporting.

Raul waved a stained flattened plastic bag at her. She could not see what it contained.

"All in here," he replied.

Raul always insisted she carry any valuable documents in a dirty used plastic bag as it did not attract attention. Warvic had long since changed her attitude toward Raul from almost intolerance, to acceptance, and then appreciation. Just as he understood her bi-sexuality, she understood his homo-sexuality. She had comforted him many times through tears of another broken romance that he seemed to suffer with monotonous regularity. She knew Raul would never let his sexual preferences compromise his loyalty to her, or his dedication to the cause. He enjoyed mothering her, and she had learned to bask in his concern.

Warvic and Suraido ambled over to the Radio Operators rattan-covered shelter.

"Are you sure you have all the frequencies and the times to change?" she asked the R.O.

"Yes, as per the lists. Each call comes in at five minute intervals, starting at 1:00P.M., then, rotates through five different frequencies, until all the groups are covered," he replied.

"Any group that fails to call in, circle the group call sign. Any group pulling out, just draw a single line through the call sign. Fill in the columns beside them for casualties for and against per the headings. Got it?" she asked.

"Yes Ma'am, just as you told me before." he replied.

She had been over the lists with him several times, but felt one more time would help reinforce the importance of the information. The group leaders knew the frequencies they had to call on. Changes of frequency for different reporting times would seem random as far as the individual groups were concerned, or to anyone else accidentally picking up their broadcasts.

The R.O. held up his hand to signal for silence, then, nodded.

"Tour Group B 1 to Tour Organiser," came out from the radio.

"That's Boracay," Warvic said excitedly to an already aware Suraido.

"Tour Group B 1 to Tour Organiser," the speaker repeated. "Tour has been successful and is now at an end. Two separate visits to hotel, employed one bell-boy on first visit and six more on second visit."

The listening group cheered briefly.

"Two minor scratches in forest, none known in hotel. 50-60 suitcases of baggage. Tour Group B 1 ready to depart. Will wait one minute for any instructions. Otherwise over and out."

The cheers went around the large group that had gathered at the R.O. hut. Those outside were cheering even though they did not know what the message meant.

"Any reply?" asked the R.O.

"No," replied Warvic, "I'd love to say something to them, but I won't. I'm not taking any risks that we might be found from our transmissions."

"O.K., I'll switch to the next frequency," answered the R.O.

"Raul, tell the others what that was all about."

Warvic watched Raul translate the meaning behind the message for those nearby, and looked at Suraido who had a big smile on his face.

The chatter outside got louder with the understanding of Raul's translated news. It was getting so loud Warvic worried it would affect their ability to hear the next incoming report.

"Tell them to be a little quieter Raul."

They seemed to instantly respond without any word from Raul.

"Not a bad first effort eh?" she grinned at Suraido.

"Not bad. Seven helicopters down, and 50-60 members of the Armed Forces killed for our 2 suffering minor wounds," replied Suraido.

"Even more importantly," Warvic went on, "no casualties among the guests."

"Another one coming in," said the R.O.

It went quiet in and around the R.O's little shelter when he raised his hand again.

"This is Tour Group D 1 calling Tour Organiser."

They all waited for the follow up.

"It's Dakak," muttered Warvic.

"Tour Group D 1 calling Tour Organiser. We have not had any outings or visitors yet. All hotels safe, except for one minor injury. Will call again at next scheduled time. Will wait for one minute for messages, otherwise Tour Group D 1 out."

"Nobody outside the resorts seems to know they're there yet. I hope the tourist is not badly hurt. Maybe we should have hoped for more balik-bayan with mobile phones," stated Warvic.

"You gave the Armed Forces a fair bit of a whacking with that first attack last night Warvic, they're not going to charge out anywhere at the first sign of trouble," replied Suraido.

The radio operator held up his hand again. Warvic checked her watch again. It was right on 1:10P.M. So far all were perfectly on time.

"Tour Group P.G. 1 calling Tour Organiser."

"That's Puerto Galera," said Warvic.

"Tour Group P.G. 1 calling Tour Organiser. No proper interest here. Six unofficial visitors arrived on the ferry and five are now with the other guests. One lost his baggage. No other outings yet or visitors. More info when we call next scheduled time. I will wait one minute for any further instructions. Otherwise it's over and out."

"Lucky they nabbed those soldiers as they got off the ferry. But something must have happened if they had to kill one. They didn't mention casualties among the hostages or our comrades. Dammit, my instructions were clear about that," said Warvic.

"I guess there weren't any. If there had, they would've said. Maybe they forgot in the excitement," offered Suraido. "It's too early to hope for big results yet."

"Maybe, maybe." Warvic sat down on the flattened grass next to the R.O. It was going to be a long wait for all the calls to come in at one every five minutes. Three gone, sixty-three to go. Five and a half hours to get all the reports.

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

### APUAO GRANDE, SAN MIGUEL BAY

"Jesus, that sun is making the court hot," said Gunther.

"Some holiday eh?" replied T.A.

"Thought of anything, I mean about how to get out?" asked Gunther.

"Some thoughts, yeah. Have you noticed what everyone's doing to try and keep themselves cool?" asked T.A.

"Just sheltering under sheets," replied Gunther.

"Yeah. They're even using the sheets over their heads when they walk around. Some have even tied them to their heads. It looks like a group of Arab sheikhs."

"How's that going to help us?" asked Gunther.

"At some stage, they're going to take some people out to get mattresses from the huts, right?"

"Yes, but they'll count how many they take out."

"Exactly. As long as the same number comes back in they won't know that anyone has escaped," replied T.A.

"I still say, how's that gonna to help?"

"Well, I've been looking at that tall skinny 11-year-old kid from Australia. He's here with his father."

T.A. noticed Gunther looking around, so he pointed toward the youth.

"Yeah, I see him. So what?" asked Gunther.

"Well, we'd have to see if his father agreed first, and then be ready when the guards came to get some people to collect the mattresses."

"Ready for what?" Gunther was getting quite agitated. Probably, thought T.A., by the lack of alcohol, or cigarettes.

"If all those who left were wearing a sheet over them, that kid is small enough to piggy back a ride out of here under the sheet."

"What, and have the person carrying him looking like the hunchback of Notre Dame?"

"No. Think about it. What else are some of the other people carrying?"

"Umbrellas."

"Yes. So if he was under the sheet and the person was also carrying an umbrella low down on his back, it would be difficult to see anyone being piggy-backed."

"Yeah, but what good will that do us to have a kid running around in the bush?" asked Gunther.

"I wasn't thinking of him running into the bush. But me. They won't be looking at who is leaving or coming back, only numbers. When I make a break for the bush, the kid can ease down from the person carrying him, and make up the numbers. The Trojan Horse in reverse."

"What about me? How do I get out?" asked Gunther.

"The same way; but later. Let's just try it one at a time. If it works, then keep doing it until they notice something."

T.A. stood up slowly, feeling both his bruised stomach and his bruised back. Gunther joined him as they made their way slowly over to the seated boy and his father. He outlined his plan to the father who sat quietly listening without comment. The boy showed enthusiasm without consideration of the possible risks.

"Your plan might work, but only if you don't have to piggy-back him for a long distance," answered the seemingly unconcerned father.

"I plan to get away at the first opportunity, once we're outside. Someone will have to distract the guards while your son gets off my back and I slip away."

"You don't know how heavy my boy is. And there are a few risks if he is caught."

"I won't do it if you think the risk is too great," offered T.A.

"You're damn right you won't." The father turned to his wide-eyed son.

"What do you think son?"

"Yes Dad, please let me do it," the young man almost whined back.

The father looked back at T.A. with a concerned look on his face. T.A. could see the father's doubts as to the safety of the plan.

"Well," he replied slowly, "with one condition."

"Tell me," said T.A.

"I'll carry him, then if we're caught, I'll say I was trying to smuggle my own son out to safety."

T.A. looked at the father. He was certainly more solidly built than his son, although still wiry in appearance. But he was tall, and that would help.

"That's fine by me," said T.A. "All we need to do now is be ready and hope we can make them pick who we want. If we move closer to the entrance it'll increase our chances. I'll tell a few of the others. They might be able to help."

As they all moved toward the gate, T.A. and Gunther began the rounds of explaining their plan to some select people. All offered to help. Immediately umbrellas and sunglasses were given up to T.A. and Gunther to assist in the disguises. Some moved slightly further away from the gate to make others the first choice for anyone coming in, yet remained close enough to assist in disguising the piggy-back set up.

They sat and waited for the hoped-for call.

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

### BORACAY ISLAND

The balik-bayan that called the Base Commander at Kalibo continued to lie face down. He was nervous about being only twenty-five metres from where the men were located. He had not realised he was so close to the group of guerillas when he made the earlier telephone call. It was only when the second group came along the trail and stopped near him that he saw the others emerge from hiding. He realised that had he spoken any louder on the phone, the hidden group would have heard him. He was thankful for the noisy cicadas.

After the arrival of the second group, he had kept well out of sight, but that had also prevented him from seeing what was happening. When the heavy outburst of fire happened earlier, he first thought they were shooting at him. The firing had only lasted about 45 seconds. When he heard the cheering he realised they must have succeeded in hitting something. The previously loud voices returned to a level from which he could only hear the occasional laugh.

When he thought about it, it had been quite a while since he had heard anything. Maybe they were still there, but just being quiet. He would wait and listen for a few more minutes, then investigate. The cicadas were still the most dominant sound, drowning most other sounds. He knew he had to get closer to over-hear what they were planning.

He lifted his face off the soft rotting and smelly undergrowth. Something sharp was cutting into his neck. He put his face down into the damp again, then, looked carefully to each side. Somehow in his dive for cover he had put his head under some prickly vine. Reaching up, he pushed the vine forward so he could crawl backwards. On the last push of the vine he felt pains shoot through his palm. He knew he had grabbed the barbs. The shock of the pain made him jerk his head upward too soon and other barbs scratched the top of his scalp.

When he sat up he looked at the thin vine with its vicious little barbs. He was thankful he had missed his face when he dived into the bush.

He listened again for voices while he rubbed his hand and neck. The amount of blood was quite considerable. Mosquitos and other jungle nasties were already trying to get their share of the feast.

Even from his knees he could not see or hear any human sound. Slowly, and quietly as his pained hand would allow, he crawled back onto the path. When he had got to about five metres from where he thought they were hidden he realised that he was on the peak alone. He had not heard them leave.

He examined the area closely. The leaves and bush were flattened where they had been sitting or standing. He moved to the flattened area and nearly fell into a shallow fire-pit covered with cross matted grass. It seemed they had left nothing behind. He ignored what looked like fencing wire protruding above the bush, then realised it was an aerial. He froze for a minute and considered running back to his previous hideaway. Maybe they were still here, but hidden.

He listened further, then, looked around to confirm he was alone, at least for the moment. He pushed aside the branches near the aerial and saw a camouflaged radio transmitter. Looking at the controls he wondered how it worked. Perhaps the Base Commander at Kalibo might be interested.

If he left the dials untouched, it might give information on the frequency that any messages were being sent. He thought about how the headlines would read in the newspapers back in the USA.

"AMERICAN FILIPINO THWARTS COMMUNIST TAKEOVER"

That would do wonders for his image among the single girls when he got back to America. The I-Phone he carried with him here was already working wonders with the local Filipina girls.

In case they returned, he decided to shift the transmitter to another hiding place. That way he would be preventing them from contacting their Headquarters. Maybe it would cause their whole operation to collapse. If he could learn how to operate it from the new site with the help of the Base Commander at Kalibo, he could call in air strikes or maybe even navy bombardments. He looked at his watch; it was almost 1:45 p.m.

He picked up the transmitter gently with two hands and was surprised at its light weight. Pushing one hand further underneath to get a better grip he felt a cold, almost rubbery substance. Perhaps he had squashed some horrible little bug. Pulling his hand out, he smelt his fingers. It was a sweet, almost chocolate smell. He could not identify it exactly. He would clean it off when he found a new hiding place.

Moving carefully to avoid tripping on any more barbed vines, he made his way back to the track. He would phone the Base Commander at Kalibo from a new position.

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

The Group Leader had completed the walk from his hilltop view. He was back on to the white sand of the main Boracay Beach. The crashed helicopter on the beach was still smoking. The one that had crashed on the southern hills trailed wisps of smoke directly skyward. The direct vertical plume of the smoke showed there was no wind.

He began to give instructions to his group about the escape routine when he heard the explosion high in the hills from where he had come. He stopped his instructions and looked at his watch. It was 1:45P.M. He was pleased that even the detonators were accurate. Rather than try and dispose of the unused explosive he decided to use it all under the transmitter. He hoped that jungle creatures were not around. The amount of marzipan smelling semtex explosive would certainly kill everything within 20-30 metres of the blast.

# CHAPTER 35

## THE TROJAN HORSE

### APUAO GRANDE

"Get the radio transmitter from the beach and set it up here. The ridge would be better, but with the power on I'm enjoying the fan. Our transmit time is 6:30P.M.," Heidi said to Domingo.

"Yes Ma'am."

"We promised the hostages some mattresses and stuff. Might as well give them some comfort. It might be another couple of nights before we all pull out. Go to the tennis court. I want you to organise some escorted hostages to collect the stuff from the houses. Then pick up the radio. Tonight, the irregulars will be sent home. We'll organise how when you get back."

The house Heidi was in was the closest to the beach of those on the seaward side of the trail. It was on the same side and only three houses away from the Simpson house where the staff hostages were being held by Raji's group.

Though the non-regulars' departure would halve her manpower, the main task of controlling the hostages had been achieved. It was now only a matter of retaining control until the next stage of the shrinking withdrawal took place. Perhaps she could let some of the regulars leave before sunrise as well.

Heidi looked at Domingo. He had kept his mask on despite the fact that Heidi had removed hers. Four others had removed theirs at Heidi's offer to them to do so. As Heidi viewed the unmasked faces she noted the youthful look of the men. Many had moustaches, but even that did not age them. It amazed Heidi, from the first time she had begun training with the Filipinos in Libya, that they all looked so young. It was only after talking with them that she realised that their youthful looks all hid older ages. She had overcome the age guessing game by adding six to ten years to her first guess. Then she found she was more accurate. Though there were no women in her group, she suspected that, as well as Lorna, there were other women in some of the other groups. She guessed that from their walk. Either that or they were effeminate males

She, and those who had removed their masks, speedily replaced them whenever any other guerillas outside their immediate group passed by.

Domingo signalled two other guerillas to accompany him. Heidi watched as they replaced their masks, and grinned at the flip flop sound of their thongs as they walked out, M16's cradled at the ready. The irregulars were wearing shorts. The regulars were wearing assorted colours of long track suit pants.

Heidi continued to sit in the armchair looking through the panorama window. Most of the bay was visible. The window was heavily tinted and occupants were invisible to external view during the day. Heidi wondered how effective the tinting would be at night if the inside of the house was lit.

Perhaps next year, she would return to the Philippines for a proper holiday. But to a different resort though. The memory of the faces of the old man and the little girl would taint her enjoyment.

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

All the hostages in the tennis court were feeling the effects of the sun heating the court's surface. Although the sun had past being directly overhead for the day, its effect was delayed to the early afternoon. Now, in mid-afternoon, it was beginning to be fully felt. As all the watches had been confiscated, most expatriates were guessing time around 2:00P.M.

T.A. felt the nerves in his stomach tighten in anticipation when he saw the approach of three guerillas to the gate of the tennis court. They stopped outside and started to speak with the court guards. One guerilla jogged off to the restaurant and within minutes had returned with five others.

T.A. was pleased to notice that some of his co-hostages had also anticipated the next move and began to mill around T.A., the skinny boy and his father. Umbrellas were being opened and waved around to further attract attention away from the ruse.

One guard slung his M16 over his back, opened the gate and clapped his hands in school teacher fashion to get attention. The others stood with weapons aimed at the hostages.

"We want you to feel comfortable," he announced.

Boos and hisses followed his statement.

"Some of you can collect bedding from the houses."

Muffled approving voices went through the hostages. A delayed second murmur of approval came out after one of the Japanese had translated for his colleagues.

"I only want two or three of you at a time," the guard went on.

"Don't be bloody stupid," yelled Gunther in reply. "It'll take one at each corner of any mattress."

"All right, I'll take four."

"That'll take all day to get the mattresses and sheets that we need," Gunther went on.

The guerilla turned to his colleagues and started talking in a Filipino language. The other guards seemed to all nod an approval. It was too hot to argue.

"O.K. We'll need a few trips. I'll take ten people. Eight people for mattresses and two others for sheets or anything else that might be useful."

T.A. looked at Gunther. The number allowed out was more than they had expected. Hostages immediately began milling around the gate. T.A. started to panic. It seemed his plan was going awry before it even began. Too many people were pushing for a chance to get out. He lost sight of the boy and his father in the crush. He could hear Gunther yelling; a guard then joined in the screaming before everyone moved back from the gate.

When most of the milling group pulled away, T.A. noticed there was only a group of nine left near the gate. He noticed the grin on Gunther's face. T.A. was pushed forward to make up the tenth. With relief T.A. saw the sheet covered rather lumpy looking tall man with an umbrella pulled down over his back. Surrounding him were three other tall hostages to hide the misshapen form.

It did not look perfect, but T.A. hoped with a bit of luck they would get away with it.

T.A. was the first out of the gate followed by Gunther. The guard was counting loudly and clearly in English as each hostage passed through. T.A. looked back nervously as it came to the turn of the father carrying the boy. Suddenly a ruckus broke out among a group of hostages further along the fence-line distracting T.A's attention. The Swiss dive-master was pushing and swinging punches at the Frenchman who had won the pool tournament the night before.

T.A. began cursing under his breath at the possible upset to his plan. Gunther gave him the thumbs up, and he realised that this was the ruse to attract the guards' attention from the hostages leaving. As soon as the ten were out of the gate, three guards ran in to separate the feuding parties. Viciously swinging the barrels of their M16's between the two main protagonists, the feud stopped as quickly as it started. Gunther moved to T.A's side.

"So far so good," he whispered to T.A.

"Jesus, I thought we'd blown it."

"Good job by the diving instructor eh?"

"So good even I thought it was real. I was frightened shitless."

The guard who had told them about getting the bedding, led off. Only four guards plus the group leader were escorting them. They were obviously not expecting any trouble.

Beside Gunther, the boy's father, the three tall men surrounding the father, were the two other Swiss guests, a sober Graham, and another of the long term guests whose name he did not remember.

Any attempt by the escorting guards to force them into a single file was being continually thwarted by Graham and the tall escorts of the father. They were very aware that the disguise was too thin to fool a close inspection. Occasionally an inconspicuous supporting arm helped the father carry his load.

T.A. presumed the guard would go to the resort nipa huts nearest to the tennis court. He was becoming worried when the guard led them past the first group of huts and down the trail towards the ex-pat houses. He was concerned about the physical demands on the father carrying the boy. It would be good for T.A., he would be further away from the tennis courts.

Some guerillas they passed were lying in the shade of trees outside the Simpson house, where the staff were held. Many appeared to be sleeping. They showed little interest in the procession.

The guards led them onto the lawn of the Brooke house. T.A. felt a little guilty that he and the other prisoners would be pillaging Malou's and his sanctuary.

"Good choice," said Gunther, contradicting T.A.'s thoughts.

The guard indicated two guards to stand at the front of the house.

"Five of you stay here," the guerilla leader said to the hostages, "the other five follow me." He prevented Gunther and Graham from moving forward.

The guerilla leader led five onto the porch and around to the back door. Only two guards followed their group. Three tall hostages bunched closely around the father carrying the boy.

"Get the sleeping gear that's suitable and bring any mosquito nets. Pile it up outside the back door."

The guard waved them toward the door, already open from presumably forcefull entry the previous night.

T.A. led the way in. The three surrounding the father all seemed to be trying to force their way through the door together.

Immediately they were inside, the boy slipped off his father's back and crouched on the floor below window level where he could not be seen by the guards waiting outside.

"We'll have to hurry and get everything before one of the guards comes in," said the boy's father.

In an almost panic rush they began hauling the mattresses to the door. T.A. ripped a hole in the mosquito net in his haste to get it down from the ceiling hooks. As soon as it seemed that all the practical essentials had been removed, he looked at the base of the bed and realised that he was too large to hide under it.

The built in wardrobe was only a half size, therefore also too small. T.A. remembered the door jamb in the second bedroom was set wide enough out from the wall for it to be left open and provide enough space for him behind it. It was not the best, but it would have to do.

The other hostages were ready to leave as he slipped behind the door.

"Good luck," each of them whispered as they passed by the bedroom door on their way out.

T.A. knew that within a few minutes he would know whether or not the ruse had worked.

The guard stood by the doorway as four of the hostages walked out, placing three mattresses in a single pile. Each then moved to a corner and grasped the manufacturer's material-handle sewn to the bottom mattress. From the groans they let out as they lifted the load, it was not as light as they expected. The guard waited for the fifth hostage to appear.

The fifth hostage emerged, head covered in a mosquito net, loose sheets wrapped around his neck and further folded sheets piled high on his arms. Under all this linen, the last hostage, the boy, face unseen, still looked so frail. As he stepped forward a guard grabbed a few sheets from his arms to relieve him of some of the weight.

One of the four hostages carrying the mattresses stumbled, cursing loudly as he fell quite comfortably onto the pile of mattresses. The other three hostages laughed. The fifth hostage walked past while the other four readjusted their load before they too made their way back to the front lawn.

Watching the laden hostages struggle under their burdens, the guard in charge now realised this was going to be a long exercise. To get enough mattresses for all the hostages might take hours. Despite that he decided that for the next outing he would send only four hostages with four guards to the nipa huts nearer the tennis court.

"Those with a load can go back to the tennis court now," he ordered.

The leader gave instruction to two of the guards. One immediately led off. The laden hostages followed, trailed by the second guard.

The Maddigan house was next. Two guards supervised the collection while the house leader stood on the trailer path watching the backs of the first group; they were soon lost to view heading toward the tennis court. A few minutes later the second group re-emerged from the Maddigan house, again carrying three mattresses and linen.

They had just begun their return when he heard a chorus of distant whistling, cheering and applause from the direction of the tennis court. He knew the mattresses would be appreciated, but did not expect the amount they appeared to be showing.

# CHAPTER 36

## A NERVOUS HIDE-A-WAY

### APUAO GRANDE

T.A. stayed behind the door. His mind raced as he wondered what to do next. He had not thought very far ahead. His actions really were futile. There was nothing he could do except hide. At least those in the tennis court would be fed and given drink. Perhaps he was childish and too influenced by his teenage reading of war stories where the duty of every prisoner was to escape. This was not a war and he was not a prisoner of war. Now that he had got out, what could he do?

There were too many guerillas for him to wander around the main areas without getting caught. He was not jungle trained. The thought of sleeping in the rain forest with all the creatures crawling over him sent a shiver up his spine. At least in the tennis court he only had mosquitos and the heat to contend with. What he had done was a stupid macho pseudo-heroic action. He began to wish he had not succeeded and had been caught. It was too late now; he had to make some positive use of his freedom.

Satisfied there was no hint of other human noise in the house, he eased out from behind the door. Cautiously he looked in the lounge, avoiding any chance of being seen through the same windows he had previously unwittingly exposed his nudity on previous mornings. He checked the other two bedrooms. Two sticks of roll-on insect repellent were lying on the floor of the main bedroom. He would need those. He slipped them into the pockets of his shorts under the sheet still wrapped around his waist.

Returning to the kitchen he drank as much of the cool tap water as he could take. The images of a camel taking on water for a desert crossing flashed across his mind. He looked around for some bottles to fill with water and take with him. There were only two were small 7-Up bottles he had brought back from the restaurant a couple of nights before and forgotten to return, but they had no tops. Checking the drawers, he found some corks that fitted satisfactorily. He filled the bottles with water and pushed the corks in tightly.

Cursing, he remembered he had returned the hired bow and arrows to the office. There was a baseball bat in the wardrobe. That would have to be his weapon in an emergency. After he fetched the bat he realised that the group had taken all the sheets. There was nothing extra he could cover himself with at night to reduce the mosquito bites, only the small dirty sheet he was already wearing.

From the main bedroom he looked out to the tractor path through the narrow slits in the wooden jalousie. In vain hope that all the events were a dream, he looked back toward the bed. There was no nude sleeping Malou for him to ogle at in the half-light. Only the skeleton of the wooden base of the bed remained. It looked like some form of sacrificial table where a bloodless offering had been made. His mind drifted to Malou. He wondered if she was safe and coping with the situation.

The first decision he had to make was whether to try and remain hidden in the house or make a break for the jungle. His comfort in the house would be better but his chances of capture were much greater. If he could link up with the Germans, Iranians or preferably Pater in the rain forest, he would have company. It was unlikely they would all have got away from the Island during the night.

The front of the house was clear. Even the turkeys had made themselves scarce during this trouble. He moved to the back door to check the back yard. It too was clear.

He dashed the fifteen or so metres across the back lawn and tried to crash through the undergrowth. It was thicker than he realised. His feet caught in some vines and he began falling. Momentum threw him headlong into the forest beyond the edges and he landed face down in the rotting vegetation.

His hands felt wet. He was surprised at the dampness of the forest floor. Dragging his feet out of the vines, he turned and sat up. Something sharp jabbed his leg. He moved it quickly in panic thinking some jungle creature had already attacked him. In relief he noticed it was the base of a broken bottle. Then he felt further relief at his luck that he had not landed on it with his charge into the bush. He could have cut himself so badly he would have had to surrender to get medical attention.

The relief was short-lived.

"Shit," T.A. muttered under his breath. He had broken the two water-filled bottles he had brought with him.

It was no use returning to the house. There were no more bottles. He would have to hide near the pump-house if he could find it. He remembered the water pipes running from it were leaking. Finding his way to the pump-house in this thick rain forest, while trying to avoid the paths, would be a difficult task. In the southern hemisphere where he used to play in the bush as a child, he always knew which direction he was travelling. There he looked for the growth of the moss on the side of the tree, or which way the top branches leaned from their constant bending with the prevailing wind. In the Philippines it was all different.

T.A. felt he knew his way around the Island well enough to find the pump-house despite the different surroundings. Firstly, he had to move away from the Brooke house as soon as possible in case his getaway was discovered.

As soon as he set off, trying to push through the thick rain forest, he realised how daunting it was. The baseball bat was no use in parting the thick forest. It was too noisy if he swung it like a machete. He would have to risk the use of the paths.

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

Heidi leaned forward in her seat, putting her face flat against the window to see if her view of the bay included a view of the machine-gun crew under the leaning tree. It did not. She could not see if Domingo had arrived and departed.

Suddenly she sat upright.

"Scheisse," she screamed. She stood up and pushed the armchair back with such force it slid along the floor a few metres.

The other guards jumped up in surprise scrambling for their weapons and masks.

"Scheisse, scheisse, scheisse," she repeated. The guards inwardly trembled at ferociousness of the outburst without understanding what she was saying.

Domingo came running in through the door.

"The radio's gone," he yelled.

"What?" Heidi bellowed at him.

"One of the non-Filipinos in a mask came and collected it. He demanded their walkie-talkie too."

Heidi composed her anger.

"Did they give them to him?"

"Yes, he said the order was from you."

Heidi raised her head as if to let loose a tirade of abuse but remained silent instead. Her teeth were clenched as she put her hands to her head and grabbed her short wiry hair.

One of the Filipinos who had remained with Heidi muttered something in Tagalog to Domingo.

"He tells me that you were upset at something else just before we came in, but he didn't know what it was," said Domingo.

"Yes, yes, yes," replied Heidi, her anger slowly dominating her control. "I remembered that I'd told one of those extra Arabs to stay under the tree with the machine gun. Fuck it. I forgot where I'd finished up sending them. I shouldn't have forgotten that. Now he's gone. The fuck'n radios gone. And now the bastard can monitor our communications with a walkie-talkie."

Domingo stood back with more than a little fear in his mind. He had never seen an outburst like this from a woman.

"The one who took the radio went along the beach toward the barrio," offered Domingo. There was a lot of fear in his voice in anticipation of the possible reaction.

"None of the Arabs will understand Tagalog. Any orders to the non-Arabs by walkie talkie must now be given in Tagalog, or some Pilipino language. Domingo, stay close at hand at all times so you can translate and send when I need you."

Domingo nodded.

Heidi seemed to have recovered self control. She pulled the walkie-talkie from her belt and turned the channel selector to channel 9.

"Rico, are you listening?" she asked. She did not use the tradition of "over". She was expecting direct answers to a question.

There was a pause for about 30 seconds before a voice came back.

"Rico here. Who's that? Over"

"Heidi. Has there been any trouble at the barrio?"

This time the gap before the reply was close to a minute. Heidi was becoming aggravated at the delay.

"Well, sort of, but we're handling it here."

"Stop messing me around," screamed Heidi at the walkie-talkie. "What's happened?"

Standing nearby, Domingo could hear the fear in Rico's voice when he replied. Domingo knew this was not a woman to be crossed.

"It seems there has been trouble in the barrio."

"What!"

"Well, the villagers are complaining that a big masked Filipinos grabbed one of the young girls from the barrio at gunpoint, then took her away on a banca that he stole. They headed off to Canton Island. That's the island just south of the barrio, over the deep tidal flats."

"Are they sure he was Filipino?"

"He had on a mask, but they said he was big. He didn't speak, just threatened them with an M16. He was also carrying what they think was a radio-transmitter under his arm."

Heidi realised that Rico and Lorna would not be aware that extra Libyans had arrived with the landing party. She hoped the Libyans were not already monitoring the calls.

"I'll send someone to you, probably Boy, to sort it out. Watch for him to arrive." She did not bother to wait for a response immediately switching to channel seven.

"Boy, Heidi here, wherever you are, get your group to me at my house as soon as possible. Respond."

In seconds Boy's voice came back, "I'm less than five minutes away."

Heidi looked at her watch then put on her mask in readiness for the entry of the other group. Nerves caused one of those still unmasked in her group to drop his rifle in his haste to pull on his mask.

Heidi swore to herself in the strange guttural language that the others could not understand. She was thankful that the rifle had not discharged when it hit the floor, killing someone. She crossed to the door to wait for Boy. On seeing him and his group approaching at a run she gave an approving nod and looked at her watch. It was barely three minutes. Boy was efficient.

"Trouble?" he asked as he entered the door, seemingly totally unaffected by the run. The others in the group were not as fit and their heaving chests showed it.

"At the barrio," she replied. "I think that one of the guards that I left on the beach has taken the transmitter and W/T number 11; and then kidnapped someone. Possibly they've gone to Canton." Heidi kept her suspicions as to who it was to herself.

Boy jerked his M16 up and down once showing some frustration. Heidi could not see his facial reactions because of the mask, but his eyes noticeably narrowed in anger.

"I'm sure it wouldn't be one of the Filipinos. We all know what's at stake."

"Who then?"

"It might cause problems, but I think it might be one of the Libyans."

"My thoughts too. Now he has a walkie-talkie, any important transmissions between us should be in Tagalog. Domingo can translate for me."

"O.K. Was the one kidnapped from the barrio a young girl?" asked Boy.

"Yes, how did you know? I don't know how young."

"That confirms what the doctor thought about the little girl we found."

"What!" screamed Heidi.

Boy stepped back a pace at the reaction.

"She seemed to have been raped. Whoever did it tried to disguise it with knife cuts and slices."

"Find him and kill him Boy," Heidi yelled seemingly out of control. She then dropped down in tone. Slowly, with a cold and steely voice that sent shudders down all of their spines, "Kill him and kill him again and again. Many times you can kill him and each time slowly."

Boy knew he would never argue with this woman, ever.

"Take whoever and whatever you need and track him down to the end of the earth and kill him."

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

T.A. tried to get his bearings. He had only travelled about thirty metres in about thirty minutes. The forest was far thicker than he had imagined. It was not just the growth which slowed him up as much as his fear. With each footfall, he carefully examined carefully where he was going step in case there was something nasty waiting to bite. Next he would examine the branches and vines overhead in case some snake was resting or ready to strike. He knew that if he made enough noise, the larger creatures would scurry away. But he was not confident enough in theories that he had not proved himself. He self-justified his fears by thinking that he was meant to be moving silently to evade re-capture.

With a little more confidence, he tried to be a bit more positive. In the next ten minutes he surprised himself with the distance covered, almost another 40 metres. While moving he had been listening for any sound of other human presence. He had heard none. A few metres further on, the forest thinned slightly. He found an obviously seldom used trail. It was easier going than the dense forest and seemed to be going in the right direction, north toward the pump house.

T.A. knew he had to be ready to dive into the forest again at the first hint of human presence. Sheer weight of numbers meant he was more likely to run into the NPA than any of the other escaped guests. If he could hide quickly enough he could check out who was approaching. As yet he was still too far from the pump-house, although distance in this forest it was hard to judge. Perhaps he was still 200 metres away from any leaking water pipes and he was definitely downhill of the pump-house.

The trail began to take a slightly uphill grade. T.A. was satisfied at the direction and that his progress was silent.

He heard a faint noise out of character with the other surrounding noise. He could not identify it though he knew he had heard it before. It made him freeze in his tracks unsure of whether to dive into the forest or not. He knew his reactions were too slow and that he should have dived for cover at the first sound and not waited for further indications.

His senses were more alert to sound than they had ever been. There was no further change in the surrounding sound.

Cautiously he began to move forward but had only taken about three steps when he heard the sound again. This time he heard it more clearly. Again he chose not to dive for cover. It was the peculiarly typical Filipino "Psst" sound they all seemed to use to attract attention.

When T.A. heard this sound in the cities he always expected to be approached by a man selling watches, paintings, carvings, or dirty picture postcards. This time he knew there were no picture postcards. He looked around to see where he thought the sound had come from. There was no obvious source.

"Hey, elephant," came a muffled voice from the bush.

T.A. peered in the direction from where the voice had come. He decided to take the risk and took a few steps toward where he thought the voice had come from.

"Get in here quick before you let the world know where you are."

A sense of relief flooded over T.A. as he realised it was Pater's voice. Carefully without disturbing the edges of the trail he entered the forest.

Pater looked down at him, crouched and behind some bushes grinning at him. He too quickly crouched.

"I heard you coming quite a while back. Thought it might be some clumsy NPA."

"Shit Pater, I'm pleased to see you."

"I nearly let you pass on by. If it was anyone else I would've. Thirsty?"

"No, not yet. They gave us a bit of food and drinks. Hell, am I pleased to see you though. Seen anyone else?"

"No, only Fred. I was out scouting for a safer place to gather water. Do you have any supplies?"

"Nothing. The bottles of water I was carrying both broke."

"I'll get you back to my little hideaway; then you can tell me how you got out."

T.A. dutifully followed Pater, stopping whenever he stopped, and trying to listen with the same skill that Pater seemed to be exercising. The relief that he was no longer alone gave him a feeling almost as if he was already totally free. The elation felt good.

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

### MT. KANLAON - NEGROS

Warvic felt satisfied at the reports coming in. The ranking for reporting was related to the degree of importance she had allocated to the resort. The major resorts were therefore first to report. Less than half of the time for reporting had passed. There were still many reports to come in from minor resorts. It was the total picture which would decide whether the operation was a success or failure. There were no reported deaths among the hostages so far, only some minor injuries.

Surprisingly there had been three deaths among resort staff; two were resort guards who had taken their jobs seriously. The other was a resort manager being too protective of his guests. So far only one resort had failed to report at the allocated time. Warvic hoped it was only radio failure.

Unfortunately nine of her soldiers had died in three separate incidents. Six in a confrontation against seven AFP soldiers arriving unexpectedly late to stay at one of the resorts. The seven soldiers had also died

Generally all three arms of the AFP had suffered dramatically if all the reports were to be believed. The sinking of two small American gifted ex-Vietnam patrol vessels was a bonus. The Philippine Navy had very limited resources. Two fixed wing aircraft of unidentified type, seven more helicopters, two armoured personnel carriers and six trucks had been destroyed. Many other resorts, where reaction from the AFP had occurred, reported destruction of motorised bancas carrying troops.

Most of the resorts occupied by the NPA, where the AFP had already shown reaction, had withdrawn immediately after the action, or had begun to withdraw their forces. Escape was either by banca, simply disappearing into the jungles, or a combination of both. Many of Warvic's compatriots on Mt. Palantao had become hoarse from cheering each report coming in. They were the only people who knew the result of what was happening nationally.

Some few had been designated to listen to radio news broadcasts. Details were passed on to Warvic. The AFP had reacted a little earlier than she had thought they would, though in the way she had anticipated. Only tentative probes were being made as the AFP did not know exactly where their enemy was.

Suraido patted Warvic at the completion of each report from the resorts. Raul would run excitedly out of the lean-too to make his interpretation of each report to those waiting outside. He was exhilarated at his new-found importance and centre of attention. All those macho straight guys that hours earlier had shunned him were now giving him bear hugs.

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

### APUAO GRANDE

Boy radioed Dandan immediately he left Heidi. He spoke in Ilocano which he knew Dandan understood. He also knew that Dandan would want to avenge the little girl's death. Motive would aid his courage, though Boy hoped it would not also cloud his judgement.

While he waited by the restaurant pool for Dandan to arrive, two of his group were unchaining the shed where the three functioning motorised water skis were kept. That would provide quick transport for six. He looked at the two masked Libyans guarding the hostages inside the restaurant. He wondered if they knew what had happened. He hoped so, because then he would have an excuse to kill them too because they had not prevented it from happening.

The Filipino woman, Malou, was sitting facing the pool and was watching him. He had spoken to her several times when she had managed to get away from her "Americano" partner. He had even managed a brief grope and "feelie" with kisses when she came to his nipa hut while her partner was at the archery range. She was watching him now almost the same way she had been watching him over the previous few days. He wondered if she could recognise him under the mask.

After all this was over he would talk to her openly. Not sneak clandestine conversations while she was away from her partner. He wanted to spend more time with her, perhaps finish the whispered promise after the session in his hut. She was not a prostitute or bar girl from Manila. He would find out the reality of her relationship with her "Americano" companion later. Subtle questioning of the resort staff had given confused answers so far.

The soft warning buzz on his w/t brought him back to the purpose of his mission.

The voice that came through was not as he expected. It was Domingo. The relayed message from Heidi came through in pure Ilocano. He checked his watch. As ordered he synchronised it again with hers. 15:15 hours. He wondered, without daring to question, the reason for her insisting that he not depart for the island until 16:30 hours. Then Domingo instructed him to ensure all of the men taking part in landing on Canton wore a neck scarf for easier identification.

To Boy, the delay in starting seemed to make no sense. It shortened the period before sunset in which time they could take action. Now though, he would ensure they took night vision glasses and night scopes for some M16s.

Dandan's arrival with his group brought him back from his second day-dream within a few seconds.

"Can I kill him Boy?" Dandan asked.

"We have orders not to start out until 16:30 hours to find him. Remember he's got weapons just like us."

"He'll be on Canton. He won't want to be too far away from his friends."

"I agree," replied Boy, "but it's also very easy for him to see us coming from the top of the island."

"Not as clearly as he'd want. He'll be looking into a setting sun. So, we let him see what he expects to see. And let him see something else as well."

Boy wondered if the delay was ordered for this purpose even though he had not thought of a plan.

"What do you mean?" Boy asked.

"Send out one banca to a deep part of the channel south of Canton. At some stage we have to get rid of the bodies. So we might as well do it now. That should also disguise our real mission to the Libyans in the restaurant."

"Then what?"

"At the same time that the bodies are being dropped, take two other bancas and two motorised water skis to the western side of Canton. They can cruise past two or three times as though they're looking for him and his hostage, or some place to land. They shouldn't get too close in case he starts shooting, though it would be good if he did. It would give us his position."

"Why not just watch for him from our high point here and use a sniper rifle?"

"Too risky. You might hit the hostage. Besides that I don't think those Libyans on the hill would stand idly by and let you shoot at one of their comrades."

"How do we get there then?"

"You and I and two others with sniper rifles will leave from the barrio. We'll take a small banca and row. It's only about forty metres from the southern tip of Apuao Grande to the northern tip on Canton. We'll have to row a bit further though to get to an eastern side landing. Hopefully he'll be thinking that the burial is being used as a diversion for the other two bancas and the motor-skis. We'll be sneaking up behind him."

"It might work. Let's go for it."

# CHAPTER 37

## INTERNAL SUSPICION

### MT. KANLAON, NEGROS

Warvic knew that it would take five and a half hours for reports to come in from the 66 resorts. She had to be patient. It was only mid-afternoon. Her planning gave the five minute gap between each report to allow for variation between individuals' watches.

Later tonight, at 7:00P.M., the second round of calls would start. There would be gaps between many reports as some groups had already withdrawn. Their call-in times would therefore be vacant. The third round of reporting times was 1:00A.M. Each successive call-in time was six hours later and as more withdrawals took place each round would have more gaps. The total run through would still take five and a half hours.

She would make her initial assessment of success after the last report at 6:30P.M.

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

### APUAO GRANDE

Heidi sat back in her lounge chair staring out through the tinted window. Holding the walkie-talkie in her right hand, she wondered what the reactions would be from the other Libyans if, no when, another of their colleagues were killed.

Even if there had been no AFP interest in the resort before this evening, she would have to release the 35 remaining NPA irregulars. She wondered how the colleagues of the irregular killed by Pater would be explained by his friends. They could escape with the cover of darkness. That would halve her manpower. If there was no internal dissent and resulting suspicions, her remaining group would just be enough to control the hostages, even manage any minor skirmishes. But if the Libyans caused trouble, her remaining regulars could be occupied in the wrong type of activities. They were needed for defence of the island and guarding the hostages. There were too few to spare to hunt for Libyans hiding in the forest.

Nearly five minutes had passed since Boy had left. Heidi clicked on the w/t to channel 2. It was time to discuss options with Helmut. Domingo walked to her side.

"Do you want me to call someone in Tagalog?" he offered.

"Thank you, but no. I don't think anyone will understand what I am saying," Heidi replied.

Domingo nodded and stepped back to allow Heidi some privacy. When he heard Heidi begin to speak, he wondered at the strange guttural utterings she was making into the w/t. It was like nothing he had heard before. The male responses on the w/t were in the same accent. He had to assume Heidi was talking in German.

At the end of the communication, Heidi turned to Domingo.

"Call Rico at the barrio. Tell him I want him here as fast as he can run."

Domingo took the w/t offered, switched channels, and called Rico's name.

This time the response was only seconds in coming back, not like the long delays of the earlier call.

Domingo hid a grin as he spoke to Rico in Tagalog. He could see Heidi's eyes show curiosity as to what he was saying. It was now her time to be confused at the language.

The men in her group suddenly scrambled to replace their masks when they saw a masked figure approaching their house. Heidi swung around at the activity. Despite his being masked, she knew it was Helmut at the door.

Neither showed any sign of affection toward the other as he entered. There really was none to display, merely mutual acceptance. Each had sexual needs, and each had used the other in their time together. That was all there was. Both preferred a partner to self masturbation.

Gunther nodded his greeting.

"We have some problems," said Heidi.

Then in German, she proceeded to relate the events of the morning to him. At the end he just nodded again.

Domingo was surprised. It was the first time, apart from the earlier w/t discussion, that he was aware there was another German on the island. Then he was even more amazed to watch Heidi listen intently to Gunther, without comment, for the next few minutes. She only occasionally nodded affirmatively, though he did not know what for. All the conversation was in the guttural language she had used before.

A puffing masked figure appeared at the door. It was Rico, so out of breath he could not gather sufficient wind to announce his arrival. Heidi was satisfied at his maximum effort to get here as fast as he could. While she waited for him to regain some breathing control, Helmut said a few more words in German and began jogging out before he had even reached the door.

Heidi repeated to Rico only some of what she had told Helmut. Except this time she used English.

"Yes, I knew some of it," said Rico. "Boy, Dandan and two others were at the barrio and arranging to borrow a small banca and paddles."

Heidi knew she would have to clarify what Boy's plan was. She had guessed at most of it. Knowing more detail might be wise, without disclosing anything of her talk with Helmut to anyone else.

"You get back and tell Lorna what has happened. All transmissions to me must be in Tagalog," said Heidi.

"Boy has also asked us to keep a close eye on Canton to give him covering fire if we spot the Libyan on the hill. He told us his group will be wearing floppy scarves for identification."

"Scheisse, you'd better get back, quicker than you got here. Make sure the proper target is identified before anyone shoots. I'll hold you responsible for all mistakes."

Rico nodded and without further comment ran out the door. Heidi hoped that the scarves would be easily seen.

She picked up the w/t again, told Domingo what she needed to learn from Boy, and let him do the translations. As soon as she had the information she appeared to need, she signalled Domingo to wind up his talk. Taking the w/t from him, she switched to channel two and started speaking in German again. The only response that came back was "Danka."

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

4:30P.M. arrived; then passed. Boy and Dandan watched and waited at the barrio until the first banca passed west of the southern tip of Apuao. Within a few minutes it was out of sight on the southern and far side of Canton. They watched as the other bancas and scooters did their first run past the western side of the island. No reaction came from Canton to reveal if the Libyan and his hostage were there.

From their position, they could clearly see the wide cleared expanse at the top of the hill. They knew that Rico and Lorna too would be able to see any movement on the bare high part of the north of Canton, but not in the forest cover below it. Some expats called the island Monk's Head because of its likeness with the bald shaven patch at the top of the scalp.

Boy, Dandan and the two regulars eased the banca out from the shore by the barrio and scrambled aboard. The distance was greater than Dandan had previously guessed, more like eighty metres. They were very exposed. Though the water was not deep, Boy did not want to check it out while being shot at. If they were spotted, their intentions were obvious. They would be an easy target.

Coordination of the paddlers was not good. Their paddling abilities had never been tried before. At some other time they could have laughed about going in circles, but panic was forcing more misdirection than control. Boy began to count in a subdued voice so they would dip the paddles simultaneously. It seemed to work and they began to progress in the right direction toward the eastern side of Canton.

As they got mid-stream their progress slowed considerably. Boy thought it was merely an illusion until he saw that they were actually being moved backwards by the strong sea current running between the islands. He started to count faster, but it only slowed the banca's backward motion. Within minutes he knew they would all be too exhausted to put up any further resistance and the current would take them out to the western side of Canton. Any surprise of an attack on the island from the east would be lost. The plan was going awry.

He looked up toward the cleared area of Canton. Still no sign of life, but he did not feel any more secure. Any shots could come from the forested area if the Libyan was on the northern side. He still suspected the Libyan would be on the top of the hill as it was only from there that a full 360 degree view was possible.

The rip between the islands had taken the small banca out to one hundred metres west of Canton. Boy glanced at his watch. It was now 5:15P.M., only 15 minutes before sunset. A good light cast by the moon tonight would help a landing after dark, but even if the Libyan did not have night glasses, the moonlight would make their approach highly visible. The night was too silent to hide the noisy approaching sound of motorised bancas. In this action he had already used up Dandan's diversionary ploy.

Boy looked at Dandan. The latter nodded back and cocked his head in the direction of the shore. Boy nodded back in the affirmative. Then, taking the risk of offering a full target to anyone on Canton, Boy stood up and waved to the other bancas to come and get them. By tomorrow they might have another plan.

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

Heidi knew that there was virtually no chance of making the scheduled 6:30P.M. call-up. It was already 5:30P.M. Boy and Dandan's mission appeared to be a failure, making little chance that the radio equipment could be recovered in time. The resorts r/t was not capable of transmitting on the selected wavelengths. She had checked that out soon after her arrival. The possibility of problems would have been foreseen by the organiser, so they would expect some groups to miss a call in. If the equipment was found and recovered undamaged, she could still meet the second call time of 12:30A.M. After that it was 6:30A.M. She would use the period before the second call to arrange the departure of the 35 irregulars. Maybe she could dismiss the Libyans early too? They also had a timetable for withdrawal. Only they knew where their rendezvous was to be. Heidi was not privy to that detail, though she would feel more secure if she did and if the Libyans' were gone.

Missing the first call meant she would not be able to delegate the second call. But having to stay awake for the call, she would be starting to suffer sleep deprivation mood swings and other symptoms. Her judgement in all matters would be different. She would have to consult Helmut on all critical matters if she thought her judgement was affected.

Both of them had undergone sleep deprivation training. Nobody ever successfully passed that course. It was a case of failing by as little as possible.

After Helmut completed his unexpected solo mission, one of them might have the chance to snatch a bit of sleep.

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

From the ridge-top of Apuao Grande, those guarding there had seen the first banca leave from near the restaurant and head south and west past Canton Island. They knew they were not to interfere with normal comings and goings from the island, but any movement was a distraction from the dull guard and watch routine they had already established.

More interest was taken when, minutes later, they saw two more bancas and two motorised skis depart in the same general direction as the first banca. Most of the hill group members wondered if the second group was chasing some escapees in the first banca. After the first banca passed out of sight behind Canton, they saw the second group of bancas pause offshore from Canton, then, start to move back and forth along a fixed line. The hilltop viewers all had to shield their eyes against the setting sun.

Further intrigue began when someone noticed a small banca pull out from the barrio. Though going east and away from the other bancas at first, it drifted back toward the others.

They listened intently to the words of one of the snipers with his telescopic sights trained on the events. He told them that all the people on all the bancas and scooters were wearing the same masks as them. Whatever was happening, nobody had informed them.

Aziz was thinking that perhaps Heidi might be having trouble with the w/t, or even worse, with another of the Libyans in the restaurant. In case it was worse than w/t problems, he did not want to risk direct w/t contact with her. It was nearly 5:00P.M., close to dinner time. Under the pretext of collecting food from the restaurant, he instructed four of his group to take the path past the pump-house to the restaurant. As they left, he warned them something might be wrong and to ensure they were prepared for any action on the way. When they reached the top of the path and started to head downhill, Aziz again checked the position of the two Libyans on the hill. Until his group returned he would not take his eyes off the Libyans.

In the sea, east, behind and below them on the rocky side of the island, nobody spotted the large drifting log. If they had seen it, maybe they would have noticed it was moving much faster than would be expected, even with a helping current. It had originated from the north-east point of Apuao Grande and was drifting speedily to the east side of Canton.

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

### CANTON ISLAND

Helmut remained under the protection of the log until he felt his fins touch against the rocks beneath the surface. Immediately the log made contact with the rocks on the eastern shore of Canton, he lifted the log to make sure it became firmly embedded on higher rocks. He needed a stable platform. From underneath it he carefully looked around at the nearby surroundings of the gentle slope. Slipping his diving mask down to around his neck, he gingerly looked up the slope from between the tree forks from where he had been controlling the log.

As satisfied as he could be that he had not been seen, he removed his fins. Then lifting the waist rope clear of the water, he pulled the waterproof packages on the other end of the short rope, into his hands. He picked out a position between two large rocks, above the high water mark, where he could leave his scuba tank, weight belt and other unneeded gear. He carefully noted his position in relation to nearby landmarks so he could easily find them again in the dark.

# CHAPTER 38

## THE WATER GATHERERS

### APUAO GRANDE

"Now there's two of us," said Pater, "we're might have to snatch some extra supplies in a day or two. The main thing we'll need plenty of is water. I've got a few cans of assorted food for now. If we ration out what I've got, it'll last a few days. I hope you don't mind cold chef's surprise. Some of the labels are missing. And be prepared to pull in the belt. Losing a few kilos would do you good anyway. This revolution shit will blow over in a couple of days, so we won't need many solids. Talking of which, if you need a bowel movement, go a long way downwind and drop your load in a plastic bag. Then bury it deep. Just be glad I'm not asking you to keep it with you."

T.A. nodded and grinned. "There's no other friendly restaurant or toilet facility available, so I hope you don't mind if I stay."

"Lucky it was you," Pater went on, "any other guest I would've just watched them go past. Let them flounder around until they got themselves re-caught, maybe killed."

This made T.A. feel even more beholden to Pater, but he felt good about being singled out from the others.

"The food's virtually split three ways," said Pater.

T.A. knew he had a surprised look on his face.

"Did you link up with the Germans or those Iranian guys?" asked T.A?

"Nah," replied Pater, "haven't seen hide nor hair of any of them. I think maybe a few Filipinos got away too. They would've gone straight to the barrio to sleep. A few faces were missing in the round-up. No, the third proportion is for Fred."

"Fred?"

"Yeah Fred. The little mutt that hangs around everyone for free food."

"Yeah, I know. Why? I mean where's he?" T.A. felt the first grin starting on his face since the Japanese had pissed at the nearby guards. "Did he escape too?"

T.A. was grateful that the serious look on Pater's face changed to a grin.

"Yeah, he dug a six foot deep tunnel and scaled a barbed wire fence. No. I'll feed the little bugger because he saved me from getting caught when I was gathering water."

"How?"

"I'll tell you later. This time you can be my watch-dog. C'mon, I'll show you where and how you get water in a survival situation. We can survive without food for days. Without water we'd be starting to lose effectiveness within hours."

T.A. was going to ask Pater if he was tying the plastic bags around the trees to catch the drips. He decided to shut up and follow the master.

Almost as if reading T.A.'s mind, Pater went on, "Tying plastic bags around any branches would be easily seen. Hell no. Too obvious to anyone around that we were gathering water. It's also too bloody slow."

T.A. wanted Pater to explain, but decided against asking. He watched as Pater tucked a small pistol behind his back, check a wicked looking hunting knife which he carefully placed on his lap, then pick up some thin rope and put that under his leg. T.A. sat silently watching.

"Give me your thongs," said Pater.

T.A. obliged; then watched as Pater carefully made two small holes through the soles of each of the rubber thongs. Pater pushed the rope through the holes leaving long loose ends dangling on the top.

"Try them on now and tie them up as you would ordinary shoe laces."

Pater handed the adapted thongs back.

"It might be uncomfortable until you can find some cloth to put under the rope. But it'll stop the flip-flop noise that tells everyone you're coming. If we raid one of the houses later we'll try and get some proper rubber shoes and maybe more cans. Just tie them loosely, double knot."

T.A. put them on. It almost felt like he was wearing proper European sandals apart from the discomfort of the rope. The new but muddied Reeboks that Pater was wearing made T.A. realise Pater had even thought about his feet before escaping. T.A. could not remember what Pater was wearing when they were all incarcerated in the tennis court. If he was not wearing them in the tennis court, he must have got them during the night after his escape.

"Here," said Pater, "you'd better strap this to your leg."

Pater handed T.A. a diving knife and the hardened rubber sheath that it came in. T.A. fastened it to the outside of his right calf. Thankfully the straps did not need any adjustment.

"You better take this too," said Pater, handing T.A. the baseball bat, the only weapon that T.A. had brought with him. "And don't be afraid to use it. With the way these bastards behave, you won't get a second chance."

Pater picked up the quiver, removed about half of the arrows and covered them with leaves. Grabbing further handfuls of leaves, he pushed them into the quiver.

"To keep down any noise," responded Pater to T.A's questioning look.

Pater looked directly into T.A's eyes as if asking a question about his judgement of T.A's abilities. Then he gave a nod of his head. T.A. knew the nod meant they were ready. It also meant silence and to follow Pater.

T.A. watched closely as Pater moved to the mouth of the bower and cocked his head in different directions, listening for any change in sound that might betray the presence of anyone else. Satisfied they were safe to emerge, Pater slid out onto the almost overgrown and obviously seldom used side-path. T.A. followed and watched Pater's careful foot placing, avoiding any foot fall that might crack a broken branch or unnecessarily disturb the dry leaves. T.A. tried to imitate and felt successful at doing so. Pater must have thought about T.A.'s progress. He turned around and looked down at T.A.'s feet. Pater gave another cursory nod. T.A. hoped he could read that as a stamp of approval.

A few paces before they got onto the main path, Pater raised his empty right hand to indicate a stop. T.A. was so intent on watching his own foot-placing, he almost walked into Pater's back before he stopped. Again Pater went through the head-cocking routine, listening. T.A. was only aware of the ongoing cacophony of locust sounds without any diminution in their noise in their vicinity. If there had been it was a sure sign they were too noisy in their progress.

Pater went down on his knees, then his stomach before slowly and cautiously peering out on to the main track, quickly looking both ways.

"C'mon," he whispered back at T.A., "a quick dash to some cover near the first pipe leak."

Pater accelerated away unexpectedly, and had covered ten or more metres before T.A. had got onto the main track. He suddenly felt exposed and clumsy running on what would obviously be a well patrolled path. Never the less, he blindly followed. While running, T.A. glanced behind him for any sign of the guerillas. When he looked to his front again, Pater had vanished.

Panic began to overtake him. He stopped running and began to look around for any sign of Pater.

"In here," came a whispered voice from behind low scrub to his left.

T.A. quickly but carefully pushed aside the scrub to join Pater already stomach down, facing out to the trail. The sense of relief was enough to make T.A. feel they had already achieved their goal. He would have been quite thankful if Pater had decided to go back to the bower now, without water. T.A. was wondering if water was worth this sort of risk. What would be the reaction of the guerillas if they were spotted? Would they shoot? Would they call out a warning to stop? He was again wishing he had remained in the tennis court with the others. At least there the water was supplied without the risk of being shot at.

"The water pipe from the pump-house down to the restaurant follows this path," explained Pater. "It leaks in various places. You might've seen that during your walk-a-bouts. I've just been gathering it in plastic bags. What I want you to do is to keep an eye on the part of the path just past that bend and warn me if anyone is coming."

Pater pointed to a place further down the trail where the path took a sharp left turn.

"O.K.," replied T.A. feeling the nerves in his stomach tighten further. This was not a childish game of hide-and-seek. Instead of being hit by a tennis ball to confirm he had been caught as they used to play, he could be hit by a burst of gunfire.

"Set yourself up on the outside corner where you can see if anybody is coming from either way," said Pater.

"How will I signal you?" asked T.A..

"Just throw something in my direction. Make it land on the path and I'll know that something's happening," replied Pater. "O.K:, get going. Take the bow and arrows with you as well as your bat."

Pater gave T.A. a pat on the shoulder in an effort to reassure him. T.A. dragged himself out onto the path. The tightening sensation went higher up from his stomach. His chest muscles were tight. He was thinking that it was all right for Pater, he would be still hiding behind the bush while T.A. was moving up the path until he found himself the right place to keep watch.

He kept deliberately to one side of the path and listened carefully. He noticed he was walking in an instinctive crouch, ready to dive into the safety of the forest at the first sign of danger.

T.A. decided to hide on the outside of the curve where he could see approaches from both directions. As he lay down behind more scrub he felt around for a broken branch to use for throwing as the warning signal. He looked to his right front at the wider part of the path that led toward the restaurant. It was all clear and it would be easy to see anyone coming from that direction. To his left it was narrower and slightly up hill where Pater was still hidden.

T.A. felt very lonely and very guilty at the same time. He was now hidden and Pater would have to be the one in the open gathering water. He would be vulnerable for a much longer than the few seconds T.A. had been on the path.

He waited for Pater to emerge. It seemed an age before he came out of the bush, then crouch down near where they had hidden. T.A. watched Pater carefully removed a very water-filled plastic bag from the ground. He had not seen it while he was there. Pater poured some of its content into a second plastic bag. If anyone approached from Pater's direction, T.A. knew they would see Pater before he could warn him.

T.A. noticed Pater was crouching in the same way of all the Asian races that T.A. had seen in his travels. Feet flat on the ground, knees fully bent, body bent from the hips, bum almost touching the ground. T.A. could not do it now, though he could remember crouching that way as a child. He always thought his legs and stomach were too large to do it now. His knees could not stand the strain either. But Pater was of a similar build to him and he was managing quite easily. T.A. rationalised that Pater could do it because he had been living in Asia for so long. Pater's muscles were obviously supple and better exercised than his. He promised himself that if he ever got out of this situation he would try the Asian crouch and keep practising until he could do it properly, no matter how many times he fell backwards. If Pater could do it so could he.

T.A. kept flicking his eyes to his right front checking the wider part of the path. He listened for changes in the noise patterns around him which might alert him to danger. But Pater's work kept dragging T.A.'s attention back to the uphill part of the path where Pater was crouching. Pater's movements seemed slow and deliberate, yet at the same time so efficient.

He saw Pater pause, then freeze in his movements. T.A. watched the completely still figure for several seconds and wondered what he was doing. T.A. began to think that maybe a snake was watching Pater from the bush and was ready to strike. Then T.A. noticed movement in the shadows further along the path.

"Shit," whispered T.A. to himself and felt the tension return without having been aware that it had gone.

It was too late to throw the stick. The gunmen had already spotted Pater. There were four that T.A. could see. He wondered if Pater was aware of them. Their weapons were ready, as they moved slowly and carefully towards Pater.

He watched Pater remain crouching before slowly turning his head in the direction of the hooded guerillas. Still crouching, he slowly raised his hands skyward to show that he was not going to resist. Without any jerkiness or sudden movement, Pater slowly stood and put his hands behind his head in total surrender. Even though he was slightly stooped, he was still a good head height taller than his captors. From the way he was standing T.A. knew that Pater had stooped so as his size did not to intimidate the gunmen further.

T.A. could not hear any words being spoken as they approached and surrounded Pater. One began an efficient search of Pater's sheet tied sarong-style around his waist. The other three watched; barrels of their weapons only inches from Pater's face. They seemed to show no malice or aggression in their actions. Any facial expressions were hidden by their masks.

When the searcher removed Pater's knife and sheath, he examined the knife, feigned a slash across his own throat, and laughed loudly enough for T.A. to hear. The searcher then tried to tie the belt around his waist. He soon realised the holes in the belt were too far out to fit his waist, so he slung it over his head and under his arm in bandolier fashion.

Though they appeared to search Pater thoroughly T.A. had not seen them remove the pistol that Pater had been carrying.

T.A. could not hear what the gunmen were saying. Even if he could it was unlikely they would be talking in English, unless they were talking to Pater. From the laughter he knew they were happy with their prize.

T.A. felt confused and concerned at the same time. What should he do? If he emerged from the bush to surrender, the nervy gunmen might shoot. If he just stayed there and did nothing, they would not find him. He knew he had to do something. But what? Pater would think he was a coward if he did not try something. Then again why did Pater not resist? Was he a coward too? T.A. felt guilty about that stupid thought. He knew Pater would have considered the odds of success of any action. That is what he should be doing. What would Pater do in this situation?

The group began to move down the trail toward him to take Pater to the restaurant. It was only a further three hundred or so metres down the track. The knife carrying gunman was leading the group. They walked in single file with Pater as number three, well covered by the two hooded men behind him. T.A. was surprised they had not tied Pater up. Possibly they did not have anything suitable. The total surrender of Pater without a fight and his placing of his hands on his head seemed to confirm, at least to the guerillas minds, that he was not going to give them any trouble.

T.A. froze as they passed his position. His mind flashed to a thought about a T.V. documentary he had seen. It was about a bird that nested in the open and froze when in danger. There were other animals that did this. T.A. did not know whether he was frozen because of fear, or simply to remain hidden. The group passed by within a baseball bat's length of him. By the time T.A. had connected his thought about a baseball bat, and lunging out swinging the bat, they were already past.

What he could do? There were four of them. Even if he could bring down one of them with the bat, there were still three others, all no doubt with safety catches off and ready to shoot.

He remembered the bow and arrows. Maybe he could bring down the last one in the single file with a well placed arrow. With luck, the others might not be aware their last man was down, especially if he did not call out when he was hit. T.A. made a grab for the bow and pulled one of the arrows out of the quiver. The group was already ten metres past him. If he delayed any longer he would be too late to do anything. He tried to mount the arrow as quickly as he could into the guide, but in rushing he put the arrow nock above the string nock. He quickly re-adjusted and the arrow was set correctly, the shaft was sitting on the arrow guide of the hand-grip.

T.A. lifted the bow and drew the string gently back, the arrow between his thumb and forefinger. He took aim at the centre of the back of the rear-most guerilla. The arrow lifted out of the guide before he could release it, T.A. cursed. He was holding the arrow too tightly.

He had done this hundreds of times with Pater in the last few days without these problems. Releasing the tension on the bow, he re-set the arrow shaft back onto the guide and took a looser grip on the arrow nock. Again he slowly drew back the bow string. The group was now over twenty metres away. Everything T.A. was doing seemed to be taking an eternity, though he realised that only a second or two of real time had elapsed.

The middle of the back of the rear guard was now the target for the arrow. T.A. knew that with the accuracy he had attained on the range with Pater, he could now score a hit within about six inches of his aim at this range. But he had never shot at a living target before. And worse, this target was human.

T.A. felt his breathing becoming irregular, and the strength in his right arm was fading quickly. His left arm began to shake. T.A. released the bow tension again, took a deep breath, and drew the string back once more. The group was now about twenty-five metres away. If he was going to shoot, he had to do it now. His left arm started to shake again. He knew he did not have time to relax and draw again.

When the arrow flew off the bow, the air in T.A.'s lungs exhaled. T.A. watched in a mixture of anger and relief as the arrow flew harmlessly past the left arm of the last guard. The group did not even pause or react to his arrow as it sailed harmlessly past them and into the rain forest, missing all the tree trunks in its path. With their masks on the guerillas had not heard or seen anything.

"Fuck!" muttered T.A. He grabbed the diving knife out of its sheath on his right leg and snatched the baseball bat into his left hand. He found himself running toward the rear of the group. He stopped about six metres behind the last guard and raised his arm to throw the diving knife at the rear-most guerilla.

The knife turned end over end as it hurtled toward the target until the much heavier handle hit the last guard in the back of the head. The guard crumpled to the ground, stunned or unconscious. T.A. had not thought about the knife not being weighted for throwing, the result was effective enough.

He transferred the baseball bat to his right hand, and took a double grip as he ran forward, the group still unaware of his presence. To immobilise the only other guard behind Pater, he swung high and hard down on the guard's right collarbone. He had only just begun a scream when T.A. hit him a second time on the left side of his head. He had not meant to hit the guard a second time, but he reacted instinctively to the guard's scream.

Pater clenched the fists of his already raised arms and crashed down hard on the head of the guard in front of him. Then, lunging forward, punched into the face of the now fully turned front guard still trying to unshoulder his weapon. The guard was unconscious before he hit the ground.

All four of the guards were down. It had taken less than five seconds. T.A. just stood there, exhausted. Pater did not pause. He snatched his hunting knife from under the arm of the prone leading guard, rolled him face down, put his knee into the unconscious guard's back, pulled the head back and sliced the knife across the guard's throat.

T.A. froze in shock, fear and amazement, unable to do anything. Pater repeated the same treatment to the second guard.

"No," screamed T.A., suddenly re-energised. He lunged forward to stop Pater moving toward the third prone hooded figure that he had laid out with his bat.

Pater thrust the knife at T.A.'s lunging figure making T.A. instinctively freeze. The cold threatening look in Pater's eyes told T.A. not to advance any further.

"No," T.A. pleaded, "Not like this."

"Do you want these bastards to die of old age?" Pater snapped back. "Do you want me to phone for a fuck'n ambulance so we can take them to a fuck'n hospital? Do you want to take them back to our little hideaway and tend their wounds? Maybe do a hostage exchange?"

While Pater was talking to him, he had moved toward the guard that T.A. had struck with the baseball bat. Pater ripped the hood off the limp form. Under the mask was a face was so splattered in blood that T.A. felt his empty stomach lift. He dry-reached. The beaten left side of the head was so misshapen it was barely recognisable as the side of a face. The cheek-bone protruded out above the ear which was hanging loosely. The jaw was pushed so far to the right that at first glance it seemed to be missing.

T.A. had to turn his head away.

"Well?" questioned Pater, "He's still alive. What do you want me to do with this victim of your violence?"

Pater did not wait for a reply, just lifted the half face off the ground and again slit the throat.

Again T.A. found himself stepping forward. He did not know from where his self-confidence was coming, he just knew he could not let Pater slit another throat.

"Give me the knife Pater," T.A. demanded.

He was surprised when Pater obliged and handed him the knife, handle first.

T.A. looked at the blood on the blade and his hands felt sticky. He looked at his hands and saw that they were covered in blood from the handle. He moved away from Pater as Pater moved toward the fourth guard who was starting to moan. He was beginning to regain consciousness. T.A. looked at the unfortunate moaning form and wondered at the strange events which put the wrongly weighted diving knife into his hands. He had never thought about the handle being heavier than the blade when he threw it.

He watched meekly as Pater pushed his knee into the back of the now fully conscious and struggling guerilla. Pater locked his arms around the guerillas head and twisted it quickly to the right. T.A. shuddered when he heard the crack of a neck bone and saw the form stop struggling immediately. Pater then removed the masks of the guerillas one by one.

"Why take their masks off?" asked T.A., surprised at the sudden calmness in his voice.

"Just wanting to check something out."

"What?"

"Remember the guy who killed Podgy?"

"Yeah."

"Well, he was an Arab. I just wondered if there were any more. None of these were."

Pater threw the masks as far as he could into the forest.

"If you feel up to it, we've got to get away from here as quickly as we can before any more people turn up."

T.A. knew Pater was right and turned to pick up his diving knife. As he put the knife into his leg sheath, Pater had already picked up one of the bodies and dropped it a few metres into the scrub. He followed the same procedure with the second after removing the spare magazines and water bottles from the body. T.A. stood and watched, feeling empty and useless.

Pater said nothing and disposed of the last two bodies in the same fashion. T.A. watched as Pater scrubbed over any areas of leaves that showed blood. Apart from the M16's, magazines and water bottles lying on the trail, there was no obvious trace of the action that had taken place.

Pater walked up to T.A. and carefully took the hunting knife out of T.A's hand. Pater wiped the bloody blade in the dirt, then, wiped the handle with leaves which he then threw into the bush. He put the knife back into his recovered sheath. It had only been minutes before that the leading guerilla had been wearing the sheath and its deadly knife proudly as a prize.

"Get the bow and quiver and let's get out of here," ordered Pater.

By the time T.A. had recovered the bow, placed it over his shoulder and belted the quiver around his waist, Pater had gathered up all four M16's, the spare magazines and the water bottles. T.A. looked at the water bottles. He could not imagine himself drinking from them. If he tried, he was sure he would vomit at the thought of drinking from the bottles of people that he had helped murder.

Within a few paces of their trek back to their safe bower, T.A. was aware of the noisy clatter of the barrels of the M16's banging against the water bottles and the magazines Pater was carrying.

"Let me help," offered T.A.

Pater let him take part of the load, though T.A. took particular care not to take the still bloody baseball bat.

Pater stopped at the spot where he was gathering the water, put down his load, pushed into the scrub and emerged with his pistol.

"I left it there in case I was spotted. I knew if I had to run I could come back for it later," he offered in explanation.

T.A. had forgotten about the pistol. He had presumed that Pater had it with him the whole time.

Pater put two of the M16's, and a spare magazine for each, behind the scrub from where he recovered the pistol.

"That's a reserve in case we lose the others," Pater said. He picked up the two plastic bags of water, knotted the tops, and moved on.

T.A. was in a daze. Subdued, he followed Pater back to the shelter and protection of the bower.

When they crawled in and sat down, Pater looked at T.A. and nodded his head, then leaned forward and patted T.A. on the arm.

"I knew you'd do alright. You did bloody well."

T.A. closed his eyes. Inside his eyelids he could still see vivid pictures of falling bodies and throats being slit. When he opened his eyes, he realised there were tears rolling down his cheeks.

# CHAPTER 39

## CANTON ISLAND

Helmut knew exactly where he was. He and Heidi had visited Canton three times on their reconnaissance trips. On the first visit she called it Monk's Head Island because it was bald on top. After the third visit they decided against manning the island for defence.

The island topography was like the top quarter of a ball with slightly gentler slopes at the sea edge. A band of rain forest, 40-80 metres wide ran right round the circumference of the island. For some strange reason a path was worn in the centre of the forest also around the whole circumference. On the inner and higher side of the island, the rain forest stopped abruptly to open out on to a pasture of long grass. Yet in all the time Helmut had been on Apuao Grande and looking at Canton, he had never seen an animal grazing.

Once between the rocks, he opened the water-proof packages and un-wrapped the essential items he would take with him.

Already in dark shadow, he knew he had about 20 minutes before the sun set at 5:30P.M. He wanted to be away from the rocks and at the high side of the forest edge where it cleared before he lost all natural light. He would then have a few minutes to look for silhouettes against the clear peak.

Once into the forest, he re-checked his silenced pistol and two spare pre-loaded magazines. He checked the strap adjustment for his night glasses and, satisfied, put them back in his pouch. The outline of the hill was surrounded in a gradually darkening orange glow.

Nothing looked out of place from the way he remembered this side of the hill. He watched and waited until all the sunlight had gone. Then, to make his unaided night vision better, he closed his eyes for ten minutes and listened while he waited for the sun to fully set. He did not hear any unusual sounds in that time. The cicadas gave off their expected farewell to the day.

The path within the rain forest was well overgrown. Progress was easier walking on the cleared area of the high interior.

Unless the girl was dead, Helmut was sure she would make some sound that would give their position away. He knew the Libyan would not be stupid enough to let her scream, but the sounds of struggling would still be heard over a reasonable distance at night. He just had to be alert and able to distinguish the night noises of any moving animals from those of a human presence. That would not be easy. But as far as he knew there were no animals on Canton, apart from the Libyan.

Helmut tried to think what the Libyan would be thinking. It was unlikely he would take the girl out to the cleared area. He would know night scopes and night glasses would be sweeping the area looking for him. It would also be unlikely that he would venture onto the cleared area on his own. A good sniper with a night scope would take out such an easy target even from the barrio on Apuao Grande. Helmut knew that meant he could not venture on to the pasture either for the same reason.

He was sure the Libyan would remain in the forest area, near to the seldom used path. In addition he would be likely to remain close to where he had hidden his banca, just in case he needed to get away quickly.

His careful examination of the eastern coast, while he was coming in under the log, showed no likely area where a banca could be hidden. It was too rocky to beach one, and then drag it into hiding as the scrub was too high and too far from the sea. If the Libyan had tried to hide it on the north he would have been spotted by the villagers at the barrio across the channel. That left the west and the south of the island.

He thought about the sandy beaches on the west. They were fairly wide, like those on western Apuao Grande. The Libyan would not want to have to drag a heavy banca far before he could disguise it in the forest. Therefore it had to be the south where they were located. The lack of any response to the earlier abortive action on the west would seem to confirm that thought. The Libyan simply would not have seen the second group of bancas with their motorised ski escorts. That was the reason he did not react to their presence.

Helmut knew he could not simply walk the path until he stumbled over them. The Libyan would be off the path and hidden. He would see Helmut coming. If he could locate the banca it would be a starting point.

Searching along the southern shoreline for beaching points would be noisy if he stumbled on rocks, and he would also be silhouetted by moonlight on the sea. That, he decided, was too risky.

Following the trail looking for clues of recent footfalls and overturned leaf litter might be better. He knew he would have to be silent and pick up on the first clue presented. The Libyan, if alerted, would be at an advantage. Helmut was the hunter, while the Libyan merely had to stay hidden until he heard Helmut approach into his killing zone.

Helmut decided that the Libyan would be on the seaward side of the path. Then, he could escape without having to cross the path, reducing the possibility of being seen by searchers.

If Helmut made deliberate noise he knew he might flush out the Libyan, but he knew the Libyan would consider the girl disposable and would kill her immediately. Helmut knew his job was to recover the radio, then try and rescue the girl, irrespective of her physical condition. Thirdly; kill the Libyan.

He walked carefully along the path, starting near where he had left his floating log and headed south. Stopping for a minute every ten metres, he listened to the nearest noises from the forest. When he reached the southern quarter of the island he moved even slower and listened for five minutes at each stop.

After his seventh stop on the southern side he felt sure he had located them. Firstly he heard a slapping sound. He moved a few metres on and a few metres into the forest. He heard the slapping sound again and sounds of a gagged cry or sobbing.

Helmut checked his pistol and his knife. He was unsure whether to use his night glasses as he still trusted his instincts more at this early stage. If he used the night glasses he could be more careful with his foot placements. His rubber diving boots still gave him some sense of feeling through the soles. He knew one clumsy mistake could cost the girl her life, maybe his life too.

If he crawled he could feel his way with his hands, but to do that he would have to holster his pistol. That was risking his life too much.

He tested each footfall two or three times before he transferred the weight onto it, then repeated the process again and again. The noises were getting louder. He knew he was heading in the right direction. He found he was back on the open path. In case the Libyan could view the path from his hide-a-way, he carefully lowered himself to his stomach and slid to the downhill, seaward side of the path to be half hidden by overhanging scrub. He waited for more noise to get an exact location of his prey. They had gone silent for a few minutes. Helmut wondered if the Libyan had heard him and was waiting for more movement to ensure an accurate shot at an unclear target.

Helmut did not have long to wait. He could hear the Libyan grunting quite clearly over the gagged and muffled screams of pain from the girl. He estimated he was as close as fifteen metres to where they were. Rising to his knees he quietly reached for the pouch containing the night glasses. Slipping the straps over his head he centred the viewer comfortably over his nose. The forest to his front now reflected various shades of green. Slowly he scanned the area to his front and then into the forest on the down-side of the path. He could still hear the noises but could see nothing. Gently he widened the gap in the downhill bushes to his left, before standing, and moved back inside the forest. He was standing so he could see above the undergrowth. He paused again to look in the direction of the sound.

He saw movement before he identified it as human in shape. It was a body on all fours rocking backwards and forwards. The grunting reached a peak before stopping, as did the rocking movement he was watching. Helmut grasped the handle of his long bladed knife with his left hand and pulled it from the sheath on his left hip. He kept the pistol steady aiming in the direction of where he had seen the moving body. It had now dropped out of his sight.

Helmut looked at the ground for five metres in front of him to check for obstacles in his path, then looking up again, began to move forward. As soon as he had covered the ground he had checked, he stopped again, and checked the next five metres. He knew that at the end of these next few steps he would almost be on top of the Libyan who might see him silhouetted above the scrub and against the semi-moonlit trees.

If he still could not see them at the end of these next measured steps he might have to charge blindly on and hope that he could get to the Libyan before he drew a weapon. He could not shoot without a clear sight of the girl. Any shot could go through the Libyan and into the girl. Perhaps he would have to use his knife. He knew his knife strike with his left hand would not be as powerful as his right, but he had to keep the pistol there for better accuracy, if he could shoot.

The slow silent progress over the next five metres heightened all his senses. He could hear the exhausted breathing of the Libyan over the muffled sobs of the girl, but he still could not see them. On the last of his measured steps, Helmut realised there was a small clearing only a metre further on. He could see the naked body of the Libyan, eyes closed, lying with his back on the ground next to the girl.

Helmut raised his pistol slowly. He wanted his first shot to hit the Libyan right in the groin. He would not die immediately from that shot, but the pain would be huge and immobilise him. He saw the Libyan open his eyes and realised that he had been seen. The Libyan quickly rolled away from the girl and Helmut had not completed his aim when he squeezed the trigger. The bullet threw up leaves where the Libyan's groin had been a split second before.

The Libyan was not making any effort to grab a weapon, instead using all his speed to dive for the forest cover. Helmut's second silenced shot must have missed the Libyan's back as he charged through the low undergrowth without any sign of being hit. His third shot was only aimed in the general direction of the crashing form.

Helmut cursed his own stupid attempt at revenge by trying for a groin shot. If he had properly gone for a chest shot it would all now be over. Instead the Libyan was rapidly crashing downhill through the forest with Helmut trying to follow wondering whether to remove the night binoculars which were not designed for running people. While he had them on he could catch glimpses of the Libyan who was rapidly out-distancing him. The glasses bouncing around his face meant that he was only able to see when they bounced back over his eyes. Most of the time he was running blind.

He snatched at the straps using his knife hand. At the same time the glasses came free he lost his grip on the knife which fell to the forest floor. Helmut stopped immediately. He might need the knife again. Holding the glasses to his face he searched the surrounding area. Because he found the knife quickly by using the glasses, he decided he would keep them. He pushed them into the pouch. He closed his eyes for a full minute to allow his eyes to adjust to being without the night aid, while he listened for sounds which might tell him where the Libyan had gone. There were none. The Libyan had gone to ground. Now he knew he was being hunted.

Helmut wondered if the Libyan had an emergency supply of weapons as he himself would have prepared. If so, the Libyan would be armed and waiting. This was now a different game.

# CHAPTER 40

## THE DANGEROUS QUARRY

### MT. KANLAON, NEGROS

The time for the second round of reports had started an hour before at 7:00P.M. Warvic was too disturbed about some facts that had come in during the first round of reports. Fifteen groups had failed to report out of the total of 66. A very high number. But in view of the information that did come in from other sources, possible reasons for the large number not reporting might be explained. Several groups reported that varying amounts of the equipment listed was not delivered. Some local organisers had demanded money before they would release weapons. Some banca owners had demanded more money, at the last minute, for the use of their bancas.

Other groups had opened weapons boxes after landing to discover they were empty. Many groups reported short supplies of walkie-talkies, night vision glasses, missing stinger missiles and launchers and 50 calibre machine guns. That was only amongst the hardware. Some also had reported a shortage of masks and camouflage clothing. Warvic was seething. The lack of reports was probably due to radio transmitters being stolen by local communist organisers.

She found it unbelievable that these hard-line communists had so easily become corrupt self-serving capitalists at the first opportunity. Her comrades were showing that, when temptation presented itself, they were no better than any of the corrupt swindlers involved in any of the food or clothing scams of the capitalists.

Was she expecting too much of her fellow Filipinos? She had read that the World Bank had, at one time, officially rated the Philippines as the most corrupt nation in the world. But one of the minor objects of this exercise was to shake the confidence of the people in power, hopefully enough for them to reconsider their positions.

Leaving Suraido and Raul at the radio to take details of the reports coming in, she made it very clear she was not to be disturbed under any circumstances. She needed time, by herself, to think. She was suddenly feeling very ashamed of being Filipino.

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

### APUAO GRANDE

Heidi looked at her watch. It was nearly 9:30P.M. She was disturbed about the w/t message from Aziz when he had called her about 8:00P.M. He had sent four of his men to see her about 5:00P.M. in case help was needed. They had not returned to him when the evening food was delivered at 7:45P.M. Heidi said she would find out and let him know.

In a Tagalog message transmitted by Domingo to Boy, Heidi asked Boy to investigate. A few minutes later he reported back that the four had not even made it to the restaurant. Before she had the chance to think it, he said it was very unlikely they would have deserted.

Heidi wondered what loose cannon had entered the game. It would need a daylight search of the path to uncover any clues as to where the missing four had left it, or if anything had happened to them. She would check that out herself, or at the very least have Helmut do it. It was no good trying to contact Helmut now; he would have left his radio where he had landed. She knew he would make contact immediately he had killed the Libyan, or had satisfied himself that they were not on Canton. Then he would radio from his landing spot and organise a banca to pick him up. It never crossed Heidi's mind that Helmut would fail, or get himself shot or killed. She was only thinking that if Helmut did not find the radio transmitter and get back by midnight, she would miss the second allocated call-in time.

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

### CANTON ISLAND

Helmut's caution was instinctive. He knew this Libyan, like himself, had been trained to be a killer. One thing kept ringing warning bells in the back of his mind. This Libyan was not only trained but was obviously also an unpredictable sadistic psychopath. Unpredictable people do unexpected things. How then could he try and anticipate what the Libyan might do next? Did he have to think like a madman to outfox him, or would intuitive logic prevail?

Perhaps the Libyan had made for the banca which he would have hidden nearby. Helmut could not hear any of the give-away sounds of a boat's hull being pushed along the ground. Certainly there was no sound of a motor having been started. Perhaps the Libyan was at his reserve arms cache, waiting for him to get close enough before firing. Maybe he had already collected his spare weapons and was hidden near the banca, waiting for Helmut to discover it before firing a fatal shot.

Every few paces, Helmut stopped and held the night glasses to one eye to check the forest to his front and each side. He was getting close enough to the shore to catch an occasional glimpse through the trees of moonlight on the sea.

A thought that perhaps the madman was stalking him made him turn quickly and check out the areas behind him with the night glasses. Nothing suspicious behind him, yet. The lack of any sound seemed to confirm to him that the Libyan had gone to ground and was waiting, somewhere.

But where was he waiting? Was the Libyan still ahead of him or had he already passed him, which meant the Libyan was now behind him. Helmut cast another quick glance behind his back.

There was no obvious trail where he had gone. No broken branches or foot trails. The jungle was kind to people who took reasonable care.

Helmut spotted the sharp end of the bow of a banca. It had been pulled up against and under the trunk of a large fallen tree. It had to belong to the Libyan. But was he close by? Perhaps Helmut had beaten him to reach the boat. That seemed unlikely as the Libyan was in a big hurry while he had been ultra-cautious and very slow in making progress.

Helmut peered intently through the night glasses at all the forest areas near the parts of the banca that he could see. Parts were blocked by the trunk. There was no visible human presence. He looked again without the night aids. Perhaps he might see a movement against the moonlit sea. He checked the ground in front of him for five metres before moving on parallel to the bow of the boat. Then stopped again, looking all around the 360 degrees from where he stood. Then on another five metres and repeated the same routine. His forward movement had enabled him to see both sides of the banca in case the Libyan had been hiding behind one side. He still could not see inside the banca or behind the stern. Foliage covered parts of it to disguise the shape. The Libyan could be hiding inside.

If he approached the banca from side on, anyone inside the banca would have to twist sideways to shoot. That might give him the extra split-second advantage he would need. Next he decided he would approach with the moon to his front. Although it might diminish his sight to some extent, at least he would not be silhouetted by the moon. He moved to the position he was going to approach from. One more very careful look at the surrounding forest confirmed, as well as he could, that the Libyan was not hidden nearby. A final check of the night glasses' straps made sure they were properly in position. He was as ready as he could be.

Slowly, almost imperceptibly he began to move forward. Ten metres reduced to nine, then eight. When he got to seven metres from the banca he stopped. His senses told him there were eyes watching him. If it was the Libyan why had he not shot? Perhaps he did not have a separate weapons cache; he might not be armed.

A madman might be over-confident in his own ability and he would have planned some revenge against Helmut, armed or not. The Libyan would know Helmut would find the banca. Therefore it had to be by the banca the Libyan would try something.

Before he moved on, Helmut tried to rack his brain to find what his senses were telling him. As a flash of lightning it was suddenly there. Helmut looked high into the branches of the tree above the banca. Three metres up, the Libyan was crouching on a branch, waiting ready to leap. Helmut took two quick steps back and fired three quick shots at the Libyan's chest. The Libyan lost his balance and fell backward. The body somersaulted and crashed face down and lifeless across the banca.

Helmut waited. The Libyan did not move. Helmut looked at the naked body. He noticed a deep burn and dried blood mark across the bare cheeks of the Libyan's bum. Helmut realised he must have grazed him with the first shot when the Libyan rolled. Then he saw a similar dried blood mark and welt on the inside of his upper arm. So another bullet had grazed its mark. Helmut moved forward to roll the Libyan over. The Libyan's right ear was barely hanging on with the clear bloody bullet hole having passed through the flap.

"Three out of three," grunted Helmut. He rolled the Libyan onto his back. Three clear bullet entry wounds in the chest also showed the result of his last three shots.

"Six from six," he muttered to himself.

Helmut moved away and leaned against another tree further away from the banca. He took a few deep breaths before he began to make his way back toward where the young girl was left. He was not looking forward to checking out her condition.

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

### APUAO GRANDE

Despite being thirty or more yards from the main track, Pater and T.A. both smelled the food being taken up the path to the guerillas on the hill. Pater had explained to T.A. his best guess of the locations of the guerillas from his limited reconnaissance. The smell of the food suggested more to Pater though than it did to T.A. To Pater, because of the lack of any activity to the contrary, the normal delivery of food suggested that the four they killed had not been noticed as missing.

T.A. complimented Pater on his set table and drinking equipment. T.A. had watched with intrigue as Pater cut just below the regular knot of a bamboo, then made another cut just below the next knot above. After a quick scrape of the knife around the hollow inside, Pater presented it to T.A.

"Your own cup, and wash up after yourself, please," he had said with more than a little self satisfaction.

"I'd get you a temporary plate if you scrambled up one of those cocoa-nut trees for me," he went on.

T.A. nodded.

Pater raised his hand for silence which made T.A. tense up.

"Dinner guests coming, I believe," said Pater.

T.A. reached for his knife to be ready for trouble. He had heard nothing and looked at Pater who was grinning back at him.

The little wire-haired terrier poked his nose through the scrub into the bower and sniffed expectantly.

"You little prick Fred, you frightened the shit out of me," said T.A.

As if hurt by T.A.'s words, Fred ignored him and walked to Pater who gave him a pat on the head.

"Now we're all here we can eat," said Pater. He pulled two unmarked tins out of his swag, placed them on one of the banana leaves he had spread out, and proceeded to open them with his knife.

"I hope cold chef's surprise is OK with you?"

T.A. nodded then shuddered at the thought that the same blade killed three people earlier in the day.

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

### CANTON ISLAND

Helmut chopped three long bamboos and laid them across the path to mark the entry to the small clearing where the Libyan had hidden with the girl. Then breaking small branches as further clues, he entered the area. The moonlight was strong here as there was no canopy to block the light. He could see clearly. He sat beside the naked little girl and shook his head disgusted at what the Libyan had done. She could not be more than nine or ten years old. Helmut was thankful that the pain of her injuries had caused her to pass out for now, at least giving some temporary relief. She had probably been a pretty young thing. Now, her face was horribly smashed and broken. Even her eyes had been pushed back into her sockets to blind her. She could not see to escape.

Gently Helmut removed the dirty rag that had been pushed into her mouth and cut the rope that bound her hands behind her back. The flow of blood from her head wounds and between her legs had attracted ants that were busily feeding on this unexpected bonus. Helmut used his small canteen to pour water over them to drive them off knowing it was futile.

He sat cross-legged just looking at her for a while. He wondered what might have been had he moved quicker, or was the damage already done? He thought about the future for the girl, if she lived. At her age there would be nightmares and terror. Then when she got older who in her family would tend to her needs. A blind person was still a person, but this one now had very little of a normal face left.

In the small barrio she might be safe, but she would feel terror at the sound of any strange male voice. Because of the grotesque act inflicted and the horrible memories she would be left with, she would never learn to forgive or accept the close comfort which a loving body gives. She would never be able to relax or to trust another man.

Helmut moved in behind her, still sitting cross-legged, and gently sat her up. He nursed her into him and began to sing some of the German nursery rhymes that he could remember his sister Gerda, and then Heidi used to sing to him. He thought of the Libyan and how he would cut his head off before he returned to Heidi. He would carry the girl back to the Libyan's banca and put her in with the Libyan's torso and severed head. Then he would push the banca out to sea with both the perpetrator and the victim inside.

He rocked the girl gently back and forth while he went on singing. She began to stir back to consciousness. Helmut put his arms around her head and neck in a seemingly protective grip then twisted it quickly. He heard the snap of the neck bone. When he felt the body relax he knew the little girl would never suffer from human pains again.

# CHAPTER 41

## NIGHT NUMBER TWO

### APUAO GRANDE

Boy sat in the stern of the banca, manning the tiller on the way back from Canton. The body language of his passenger showed it was pointless to try any further attempts at conversation. Helmut had not responded to any questions from the moment he had waded out to the banca, merely sitting silently in the bow looking forward.

Boy off-loaded Helmut at the beach-front directly outside Heidi's selected headquarters.

When the masked Helmut entered, Heidi quickly rose from her chair. She could see the blood marks on his camouflage shirt and trousers and quickly checked his clothes. The absence of any tears or holes seemed to confirm that the blood was not his and no other injury had been sustained.

She nodded at Domingo, who quickly and correctly took as an order to boil the jug. Heidi had requisitioned coffee, milk, sugar and a jug from the resort.

Helmut, still silent, collapsed into the armchair formerly occupied by Heidi. The airstream of the electric fan blew directly on him drying his sweat-soaked clothing.

Heidi let Helmut set his own timetable to talk, despite her impatience to know about the transmitter. It was already 11:30P.M., only an hour before their scheduled transmission time.

She gave Helmut his coffee which he took with a single nod of the head, then, crouched cross-legged at his feet like a child waiting for story time. She sat and waited until he was ready to start.

In a surprisingly undisciplined move for Helmut, he pulled off his mask. His eyes continued to look at the floor. Slowly, as if it was taking an enormous amount of strength, he slowly raised his head and looked at Heidi.

"They're both dead."

Heidi waited for him to continue, as did the others in the room even though the German language was unintelligible to them. He sipped at the coffee. Heidi noticed from his reaction that it was too hot. He rubbed his lips at the burning sensation it had caused.

"I forgot to look for the radio."

Heidi was surprised at the comment. It was not like Helmut to leave an assignment incomplete. He was always a fanatic for detail, just as he had always been totally convinced of his invincibility. While Heidi waited for further disclosures, thoughts of some of Helmut's previous missions came flooding back.

She pictured him waiting on the footpath outside the German Reichstag Parliament. When an outspoken critic of terrorism, with a history of heart problems emerged, Helmut walked past him like any other pedestrian. He fired one single shot from a silenced pistol into the politician's ailing heart. Then walking on, without a backward glance, Helmut joined an organised tour group being shown through the lower house. Meanwhile the victim's associates were left frantically searching the politician's pockets for heart pills, until they noticed the blood coming through his shirt.

Heidi remembered Helmut's reaction to another Reichstag member's call to have all incarcerated terrorists sterilised. The Parliamentarian argued that the heinous acts of terrorism forfeited any rights of terrorists to have children. Helmut researched and found that the member had three children, all girls, attending an exclusive private school. He considered all politicians as closet terrorists, legitimised only by their position and ability to lie without conscience. If terrorists were not allowed children, then let him help the politician lead by example.

Riding a motor scooter, Helmut had followed the children's chauffeur-driven car delivering them to school. He tossed two hand grenades through the open back window of the car as it stopped at traffic lights. As he sped through the red light, he did not even look back at the shattering explosion.

Heidi knew Helmut was a ruthless and unfeeling killer. Tonight perhaps he had narrowly missed being killed himself. That might have shattered his self-confidence and made him realise he was only a mortal.

Her patience at an end, Heidi could not wait any longer. She needed the information now if she was to meet the transmission deadline. She felt Helmut had taken more than enough time to recover from his thoughts.

"Where is the radio?" she snapped at him in an effort to draw him back from his thoughts. She waited a few seconds.

Helmut began to look at her directly, his eyes suddenly clearing of the trance he had been in.

"Probably somewhere near a clearing on the south of Canton. I've marked the path where the clearing is," Helmut replied.

"What about the bodies? Where are they?"

Heidi watched Helmut's eyes. Though they were looking directly at her he seemed to have drifted away and back into his sub-conscious. His eyes were unseeing and looking straight past her, only blinking occasionally.

"Valhalla."

"What?"

"Sailing to Valhalla," he slowly repeated.

Heidi stood. Though afraid of Helmut's possible violent reaction, she slapped him hard on each cheek with an open hand to bring him out of his dream. Helmut's head turned with each slap.

"Snap out of it," screamed Heidi.

Helmut's eyes remained glazed. He continued to stare unseeing at the floor.

Heidi gave up any further attempts and turned to Domingo.

"Get both Boy and Dandan for me. I need them both, now!"

As Domingo began his calls, Heidi closed her eyes and with both hands grabbed her own short brown hair and tugged sharply.

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

### DAET, CAMARINES NORTE

Captain de Mesa had been ordered to make ready with his platoon at Mercedes. That it was his platoon ordered on a reconnaissance mission was not unusual. His promotion to Captain from Sergeant was well publicised as a reward for his part in the raid which "destroyed" the NPA. in Daet, several months before. Since then, he had been ordered on every potential life-threatening operation the army had to offer in the area. His three companions, who survived the Daet raid with him, also received well publicised promotions in recognition of their contribution to that raid.

The promotions were for public and newspaper consumption. His senior officers were well aware of the true purpose behind that headline attracting "mission". His living presence was a too frequent reminder to other senior officers of the extent they had to go to cover up other areas of corruption.

Since then, de Mesa's platoon, which included his three compatriots, had been sent on dozens of dangerous missions into the jungles of Camarines Norte. The actions they had fought had already seen one of the four survivors of Daet killed. It was the young driver he was going to castigate for lighting a cigarette. He had struck a match once too often on a night jungle patrol. Incoming enemy rounds from an NPA ambush virtually cut him in two, but it alerted the rest of the patrol to the ambush and they escaped. Now, the surviving three fought to protect each other.

One benefit that had accrued to them was that constant action had honed their personal jungle survivorship skills to a degree unmatched by any other personnel at the garrison. They all knew that eventually they would probably receive a bullet in the back, fired from cover during an engagement. Until then, they would all watch each other's back.

The current orders were to investigate the lack of response to radio calls to the Swagman tourist resort at Apuao Grande from its Manila Head Office. They were worried that the resort might have been taken over by the NPA as others had been.

Captain de Mesa pored over the available maps of the area with his three companions. He hated the thought of sea action as he could not swim. A sea action would mean exposed fighting with no jungle to cover him. He started to get a bad feeling about this operation.

The maps revealed the target had two very close islands nearby. Canton to the south and Little Apuao to the north. A note written on the map said that Little Apuao was currently joined to Apuao Grande by a narrow sand-spit. De Mesa realised that Little Apuao was probably defended, but if it was not, then the sand-spit definitely would be. At least on Little Apuao he would have his feet on dry ground.

He would organise his bancas to approach from the north of Little Apuao. That would hide their approach from the larger island. Any fire at his bancas would then be limited to the firepower of presumably a smaller force protecting the north side of Little Apuao. His experiences had taught him to minimise the enemy firepower whenever possible, while maximising his own. His N.C.O.s agreed with the tactics. Now he had to arrange transport for his 32 men and himself to get from Daet to the port of Mercedes.

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

### APUAO GRANDE

After Dandan's rounds of the Island, the non-regulars began to gather on the beach near the tree where they had disembarked 24 hours earlier. Rico transferred to the reduced group at the spit. Lorna was left at the barrio. The Iranian, Raji, was transferring the staff hostages from the Simpson house to the restaurant. Once there they were to take over control from the Libyans, Ali and Moamar. All four remaining Libyans were told to report to Heidi. No mention had been made to them of the latest incident involving Abdul on Canton being killed. Boy had been sent to Canton with two others to find the transmitter.

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

### MT. KANLAON, NEGROS

Warvic's mood had grown darker as more reports of missing equipment and demands for payment were reported. It was now obvious to her that the non-response from some resorts was a result of missing radio equipment. She had circled areas on her private map where equipment had not been delivered. Her thoughts turned to which groups she could trust to carry out missions to eliminate all those who had jeopardised her plans through their greed. It would not take long, maybe three weeks, and the organisation would be rid of most of the leeches.

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

### APUAO GRANDE

T.A. was feeling hungry, dirty, smelly and tired. Sitting had made his muscles cramp. The aches from the two blows across his back and the stomach blow were nagging reminders of the incidents leading up to the present. Thankfully the mosquitos had respected the repellent he had been regularly applying.

He watched Pater's face take on a quiet and thoughtful mood. Fred had come and gone three times since his evening meal. Each time taking a quick drink from the water filled tin Pater had recessed into the earth for him. Neither Pater nor T.A. had heard any movement along the nearby path for a couple of hours. It was close to midnight.

"Probably a good time to catch up on some sleep," said Pater.

"I'm not really sleepy yet," T.A lied. "Do you want me to take a watch while you kip?"

"Don't worry about me. I might take a bit of a look around. Maybe see if anything much has changed."

"You want me to come?" asked T.A. in the hope Pater would not accept.

"No, I'll move quicker and quieter by myself."

T.A. hoped he hid his relief.

"No offence," Pater went on. "It's just that I know my way around this bush better than you."

"Are you going near the restaurant?" asked T.A.

"Are you worried about your lady?"

"Guess I am."

"How sure about her are you?"

"What do you mean?"

"What I said. How sure are you about her?"

"That's why I came here this time. I need to find out how I really feel about her. She's said she wants to come away with me."

"Do you know how she really feels about you?"

"No. She's evasive. I get bloody confused."

"I don't stick my nose into other peoples' business, but if I was you I'd be bloody careful with her."

T.A. wondered what the normally non personal Pater was inferring.

"Pater, I'd respect your opinion, you know that."

"Yeah. No good if you don't want to hear it."

"Go on," requested T.A. He realized that sub-conciously he had gritted his teeth.

"She's got a bit of a roving eye."

"I know, but she always denies it."

"Ness thinks you're an all right guy. So she's worried about you. She wanted me to tell you what she's seen, but I told her it wasn't our business."

T.A. nodded and waited for Pater to continue. Pater lowered his eyes not wanting to see T.A.'s reactions.

"Well, between what the two of us have heard and seen, I don't think I'd trust her a helluva lot. If she got the chance and didn't think you'd find out, I think she'd play around. Not with anybody, but with someone that gave her a buzz. Then again that might be with anyone."

T.A. felt his gut tighten, but it was also confirming the warning his intuition had been trying to give him.

"Yes, I feel it sometimes," offered T.A. "I've even accused her of giving one of the Filipino guests the eye."

"If you mean the tall well-spoken one, you're right. His nickname's Boy. At the start she was asking the staff about him, you know the usual stuff, his name, where he's from, where he lives."

"I thought so."

"He was asking the staff about her too and what your connection was with her. The long term staff hadn't told him much but the newer staff, who knows? What Ness saw and heard was quite bizarre. Whenever she was near the kitchen and Boy was nearby, she pretended to be speaking to one of the cooks. The cook didn't know what was going on. Not many locals around here speak Visayan. The cook doesn't speak it either, but he understands it because his mother speaks it sometimes. Your lady was talking to Boy in Visayan. The cook said Malou would tell Boy when you were going off to golf or archery and he'd tell her where he'd be."

T.A. felt his heart jump. "Yes, I used to wonder what she was doing while I was away."

Pater sat up suddenly and raised his hand for silence. T.A. heard it too. Voices, and the sounds of several people seemingly not concerned about the noise they were making. It came from the direction of the main path. People were walking from the hilltop toward the general direction of the restaurant.

T.A. looked at Pater. "Is it over?" T.A. asked.

"I doubt it. Something's happening though," Pater replied.

Though the noise subsided quickly, Pater remained unmoved. After checking his watch he lay back down on the dirty sheet he had covering the bed of leaves.

"I'll have a look around in 30 minutes. You stay here after I go, just don't hit me when I sneak back," Pater grinned.

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

With four masked Libyans inside her H.Q, Heidi felt uncomfortable. The tension also made Heidi's diminished personal group of two regular NPA and Domingo go to the corners of the house, weapons ready and watching the Libyans.

Helmut was sitting in the same easy chair, but still in the same dream state as when he had arrived. Heidi had re-masked him and placed an M16A2 across the arms of the easy chair as a potent threat. She doubted, in his state if he would react to anything. But with his back to the Libyans' he appeared to be looking out through the window, or maybe watching their reflection. They could not see his face and would not know his state of mind.

Dandan came in alone, and sought Heidi out.

"Well?" she asked.

"32," he replied. "Four irregulars missing. That's the one killed at Pater's and three of the four that went missing were also irregulars."

"That means that we've got 25 of the 26 regulars that we started with, plus eight of us," replied Heidi.

Boy knew she was not including any of the four surviving Libyans in the eight. He wondered how she would handle explaining the events of Canton to them. It became obvious that she was not going to when he saw and heard Heidi's opening remarks to the Libyan that had stepped forward to speak to her.

Heidi had instinctively known it was Mahmood who had stepped forward.

"I sent the message for all of you to report to H.Q! Where's your fifth member?" Heidi demanded.

The words were sharp and loud catching the Libyan off-guard with their suddenness. Mahmood had been about to launch a verbal attack on her, but her pre-emptive harangue made him take a step back.

"You have done something to Abdul. Where is he?" he demanded, having recovered from Heidi's unexpected aggression.

Heidi had not remembered the name of the Libyan left under the tree. Mahommed's statement had revealed who it was. "He was left in control of the machine-gun under the tree. But he left his post sometime during last night."

"What have you done with him?" he demanded again.

All parties, except Helmut, lifted their weapons to the ready position.

Heidi's strong voice and bitterness came through as she continued. "Your friend deserted his post. I could have him shot for that. He then left this island on a banca stolen from the barrio. Is that part of the greater plan that you have for this mission?"

"No. He'll be coming back," Mahommed answered in a suddenly subdued and thoughtful mood. He knew he had lost his attempt to dominate Heidi in this conversation.

Ali now stepped forward trying to take up the dominance that Mahommed had failed to get.

"We won't leave here until he returns," Ali threatened.

"Then you'll be here until it snows. He wasn't thinking about you when he ran away. Scared was he? The last thing anybody knew was he was going as fast as he could heading south past Canton."

Mahommed now jumped back in.

"What were the bancas doing by Canton this afternoon? I could see them from the hill."

"Trying to find your friend. As you would have seen, they didn't find him. He had made himself very unpopular with the locals at the barrio. He stole the banca by threatening them with a gun. I was going to have him shot for desertion." Heidi thought it wiser to keep the girl's abduction secret for the moment.

The Libyans stayed silent for a few moments before beginning to talk among themselves in Arabic. Temporarily at least, the heat was off Heidi. She turned to Boy.

"We have to re-allocate the regulars and re-organise the hostages. We're spread too thin at the moment," said Heidi.

"Some of the irregulars would stay," offered Boy.

"No," she replied. "We don't want to organise for too many people to escape later. When the Libyans and the irregulars have gone we'll transfer all the hostages to the tennis court."

Mahommed stepped forward and waited for Heidi to look in his direction. She delayed looking back at him as long as she could. She was in no mood to argue. She had decided that if there was one more angry word from any of the Libyans she would draw her pistol and start killing them. She jerked her head up quickly to look at Mahommed.

"We've been talking," he said. "As you know there are separate arrangements for the Libyans to get away. I can't tell you what they are, but Abdul knows."

"Yes," responded Heidi gruffly. "What do you want from me?"

"If Abdul does come back, you must tell him that if he misses the rendezvous there won't be a second chance to collect him."

Heidi felt relieved. "Does this mean that you're leaving with the irregulars?"

"We have to; otherwise we will miss the rendezvous."

"I'll organise room for you on one of the bancas."

"No. That's no good. The irregulars are going west to the mainland. We must go south, further down the coast to meet up with other groups. We'll need a banca for ourselves."

Heidi felt frustrated and relieved at the same time. If she could get the Libyans to leave without further bitterness and trouble she would meet their demands.

"I'll get Boy to requisition a small fast motorised banca, fully fuelled, with extra petrol to get you where you want to go. Is that O.K.?" she asked.

"Perfect. Thank you."

Heidi did not like the feeling she was experiencing. The Libyan had changed his tone too quickly. He was being so nice it was almost greasy. Despite that she nodded to Dandan who had been listening to the conversation.

"I'll arrange that," Dandan jumped in, "fully fuelled with extra tanks to take them the distance."

Heidi nodded and watched Dandan leave on the assignment.

"We'll wait on the beach then," said Mahommed.

"O.K. Thanks for your help," she lied.

The Libyans simply nodded and left.

# CHAPTER 42

## PRE-DAWN

### APUAO GRANDE

Dandan re-entered Heidi's H.Q. She was standing to the side of the bay view window, back to the wall, staring at the still unresponsive figure of Helmut. He waited several seconds before she looked up.

"Have all the bancas gone?" Heidi asked.

"I watched until they were all out of sight," Boy replied.

"There's just us then. We'll have to re-distribute the regulars among the group leaders." Heidi looked back at Helmut, shaking her head slowly side to side.

"I don't know what to do with this one," she went on. "Maybe I'll pour a bucket of cold water over him. I need to snap him back to this world. The other thing is the Libyans. I still don't trust them even though they've gone. Something doesn't seem right. They left too easily. No arguments, nothing nasty. I can't put my finger on it. I'm sure they didn't believe we knew nothing about their friend Abdul."

"Their banca did head south, past Canton just as they said they were going to do," replied Boy. "I went to the south-west tip of Apuao Grande by the barrio to make sure they didn't double back."

"I wanted to take their walkie-talkies off them, but they said they need them to communicate with their contact wherever their rendezvous is," said Heidi. "If I'd insisted, they'd have been suspicious."

"Too late to do anything now," said Dandan.

"More reason to limit our messages using the w/t's. We'll still use Pilipino or whatever you're using, for a while longer, in case the Libyans are listening. I just hope the AFP aren't listening too. Tell Aziz to keep alert. We only need to hang on now until sunset."

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

MERCEDES, CAMARINES NORTE, 2:30 A.M.

Captain de Mesa's platoon had completed embarkation onto the four bancas commandeered. They began the down-river journey toward the sea, aided by the river's current.

As the little armada began passing the deep water piers, the Captain stared toward the outline of a slightly larger, different, yet familiarly shaped vessel tied there. It seemed out of place, but the shape was recognisable. In the moonlight he could see the outline of twin .50 calibre machine-guns above the cabin and a further one nearer the stern. He directed his conscripted helmsman to steer closer to the pier. The other bancas followed.

At fifty metres distant from the vessel, two armed men in navy uniform appeared on the deck. One immediately challenged the approaching bancas. De Mesa identified his unit. The voice challenged again, demanding the new day password. Thankfully de Mesa remembered it and responded.

His four bancas were allowed to pull in closer. Captain de Mesa began to think his luck on this mission might be changing. He would try to enlist the help of whoever was in command of this naval vessel.

By the time his flotilla had got to within ten metres of the boat, eight more men had appeared on deck. Two had rushed to man the .50 calibre machine-guns, which they immediately aimed in the direction of the bancas. Two switched on under-powered searchlights whose light fingers now probed in their direction. Captain de Mesa realised his men, all wearing camouflage make-up and heavily armed, could easily be seen as posing a threat to the boat. He waved for the other three bancas to move further away. That action prompted a positive response from the new spokesman from the boat, who de Mesa took to be the captain.

After a few more words, he was invited to move his banca closer. A crew member tossed a line to prevent them drifting down-stream with the current. The other three bancas, still covered by the boat's machine-guns and searchlights, had moved to a nearby pier and were hanging on against the current.

After briefly explaining his mission, the boat captain invited de Mesa on board to discuss it further.

In the small cabin, Captain de Mesa could see the boat officer was a young Naval First Lieutenant. If need be, he would endeavour to pull rank despite his concern over it being a different arm of the AFP.

The Lieutenant proudly explained his boat was a Fast Patrol Craft (P.C.F.). An ex-Vietnam vintage gift from the United States, modernised several times. One officer and usually five crew, but at this time, eight manned the 50 foot, 22 ton craft. The twin General Motors diesel engines powered the craft at a maximum speed of 25-28 knots. The P.C.F. had arrived late at night in Mercedes to take on fuel and continue south to investigate reported problems at Nara.

Captain de Mesa realised the young Lieutenant was ambitious to see action, so de Mesa exaggerated the certainty of guerillas on Apuao Grande.

The Lieutenant immediately offered the services of his P.C.F. and crew. The Lieutenant pointed out that they also carried an 81 mm mortar mid-ship behind the funnel. Together they pored over the more accurate naval maps that caused de Mesa some envy and to wonder why the army did not have the same. But the thought of having four machine-guns in two mounts and an 81 mm mortar supporting him from such a fast-moving fire platform gave him great confidence.

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

### TWO KILOMETRES SOUTH OF CANTON ISLAND

The four Libyans had spoken little since leaving Apuao Grande. They knew they had fulfilled their basic task of assisting the take-over and control of the island. All were feeling dispirited about the death of their comrade in the restaurant, but generally felt it had been of his own doing.

As their banca left Apuao Grande, they questioned each other for a plausible reason why the other member had left early. He knew, just as the others did, there was nearly 36 hours available to get to the rendezvous, meet the others, and board the freighter at sea.

The moonlight on the calm sea gave them plenty of light to see the outline of the hills on their right and the sea to their front. In the near distance they could see another banca drifting. It was probably some fisherman trying for an extra catch based on the phases of the moon. Their course would take them very close to the fisherman, so they readied their weapons for any unexpected problem.

As they got nearer, they could not see anyone sitting upright in the boat. A leg dangling loosely over the side suggested that the fisherman had succumbed to sleep in the bottom of his banca rather than earning his keep with a profitable catch.

The Libyans slowed their banca to approach as quietly as possible, although that was virtually impossible with the naturally noisy engine. Despite their nearness of twenty metres, nothing in the drifting banca stirred. The leg had not moved. Curiosity made the Libyans move even closer, one made ready to switch on his powerful flashlight.

Ten metres, then five metres. Still nothing in the drifting banca stirred. The two bancas were now side by side. The Libyan with the torch switched on his flashlight. They all quickly sat back in shock. They had found Helmut's tribute to Valhalla.

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

### APUAO GRANDE

"We'll redistribute our manpower," said Heidi. "There's only seven of the management team now. We can't count Helmut for the moment. How should we spread the remaining 25 regulars? Dandan, I need your ideas."

"We're not very popular at the barrio to the south since the little girl was taken," offered Dandan. "They would have supported us before. Now though, they could cause trouble. Lorna's there with three regulars, still trying to placate them. Probably enough to manage."

"Yes. And the two on the beach with the machine-gun will have to stay there," said Heidi.

"I agree. Boy and I have two regulars each."

"Enough?" asked Heidi.

"It'll have to do."

"I''ll keep Domingo and one other with me. I'll need to keep Domingo for radio transmissions, and the other in case I have to send a runner. That leaves us with 13 to split between Aziz, Raji and Rico. They've all got the important jobs."

"Once we've got all the hostages in the tennis court, Raji can probably cover them with five men," suggested Dandan. That only leaves five, because Rico already has two

"The sand-spit worries me. At the moment we've still got a machine-gun at the north of Little Apuao. Yet if I withdraw them to the sand-spit where Rico and the other two regulars are, we're blind to the north. But they're cut off from everyone else so far away on the other side."

"If they are withdrawn and anyone lands on the north, I think we could still hold them at the spit if we senda couple more. That means there'd be five including Rico and the machine-gun to stop them," said Dandan.

"My thoughts too, but I wanted your input on the risk. That leaves Aziz with six on the ridge with a launcher and three missiles plus a machine-gun guarding the back door. You and Boy, when he returns, can keep your roving commission to back up wherever problems might occur. Take one of the missile launchers and two missiles with you."

"O.K."

"Get the prisoner shift organised, then re-arrange the man-power where necessary. I'm going to try and snap Helmut awake."

As Dandan adjusted the M16 in his arms and turned to leave, he saw Heidi go to the sink and begin filling a bucket with cold water. He hoped it was going to work. He sensed they would need Helmut's skills before the day was done.

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

Pater silently crawled back into the hide-away. The sudden appearance of his head poking through the bush startled T.A.

"Shit Pater, I didn't hear you coming."

"That's the idea. I don't want anyone to hear me."

"What's happening in the outside world?"

"I'm not sure. I didn't go beyond the rain forest, but I think some of them have gone."

T.A. waited for Pater to elaborate.

"For a while I was hiding close to the Brooke house where you were staying. The forest there pushes right up to the tractor path."

"Yeah, I know where you mean," responded T.A., almost feeling part of the action.

"Although I couldn't see the beach, there seemed to be a lot of activity. Then several bancas left. As they pulled away I could see three bancas. They all seemed to be fully loaded, but I couldn't guess the numbers accurately. Maybe twenty, maybe forty. I dunno."

"Have they all gone then?"

"No. After the bancas left I went along the edge of the forest to the tennis court. There were still guards around it. But while I was watching, they moved the hostages from the restaurant to inside the tennis court. That's about an hour ago now."

"Did you see Malou?"

"Yes, and Ness."

"How did she look?"

Pater grinned, "Who? Ness looked fine."

"You know, I mean Malou."

"Yeah, she looked fine. Just like everyone else, a bit dishevelled and messy hair. I wish you'd remember what I said before about Malou. Anyway, it's pretty crowded inside the court. The staff are in there too. I'm just curious what is going to happen next. There's still a bit over a couple of hours to dawn, try and get some shut-eye."

T.A. knew it was time for silence. He knew Pater well enough to know his statement meant Pater wanted to sleep. T.A. wrapped the sheet around himself and tried to settle comfortably into the cogon grass. Briefly he thought about the creatures he had seen crawling by him in the previous few hours and decided he did not care any more. His thoughts then switched to Pater's hesitant opinions about Malou, and he dozed off.

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

## MERCEDES, CAMARINES NORTE

The P.C.F. was leading the small flotilla. All parties knew their revised roles. Three of Captain de Mesa's men had transferred to the P.C.F. to give even more fire-power. Not so much for the weight of fire, but to enable more areas to be targeted simultaneously from the best floating platform. The P.C.F. would give them cover, if required, as the remaining soldiers from the four bancas landed on the north coast of Little Apuao an hour before dawn. If the landing was unopposed, the soldiers would make their way to the sand-spit. Then try to cross half-an-hour before dawn.

# CHAPTER 43

## PRELUDE - DAY TWO

### APUAO GRANDE

The Libyans knew they had about three hours to make landfall, and hide, before sunrise. They approached Little Apuao from the north. As soon as its shape was discernible in the dark, they circled wide to the east to avoid any watching eyes from the barrio on the smaller island. Once past the barrio they cut back quickly to approach the larger Apuao Grande from the north-east. Any observers on Apuao Grande should think it was just another fisherman leaving from Little Apuao.

They intended to approach the bigger Island under the high rocky exposed north-eastern part of the ridge. The Libyans knew this part of the shoreline was too rocky for the ridge defenders to suspect any landing in that direction. Besides, those on the ridge would expect such an approach would be seen by those defenders on the north of Little Apuao.

Mohammed and Ali had guessed correctly that Heidi would withdraw the machine gun from Little Apuao and concentrate her forces on the main Island. The Arabs used the emergency oars to paddle their banca the last 400 metres to the rocky shoreline to avoid using the noisy outboard motor.

After taking cover among the rocks for a few minutes to ensure no alarm was raised, and nobody had seen their approach, they made their way up the rocky face. Skirting below and to the side of the ridge, they entered the rain forest from the north. Keeping 10 metres between them, they headed along an overgrown path toward where Ali estimated the pump-house trail would be. He had walked through onto the main path before he realised it and quickly beat a hasty retreat back onto the lesser trail. Pulling his three companions back 30 metres or so, he began to discuss his plan.

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

AFP contact or not, Heidi knew she had stayed long enough. At the end of the day she would organise those of her reduced group to pull out. She was still undecided what her own personal decision would be. After the others left, all the management team could emerge from the forest and "free" the prisoners. There was still all of today to get through yet. Firstly she had to snap Helmut out of his trance and then locate the four members of the missing group. Dawn was not far away. She had to solve each problem one at a time.

Her extra regular made himself inconspicuous as he watched Heidi's actions.

Heidi looked at Helmut in frustration. The water she had poured over him only made him blink. He continued sitting in his water-drenched chair, staring out the window. Heidi knew she needed him.

If he was like this at the end of the operation, it would be difficult to explain away. Their only chance of escape was to emerge from the bush as innocent victims of the takeover. If he recovered in front of the wrong people his blabbering could compromise and endanger everyone. She knew she could not take that risk.

Heidi drew her pistol and looked at it. Her little aid, Domingo, looked at her, eyes wide, and began to move forward. Heidi nodded in the negative and he moved back to his original position, teeth and mouth clamped shut.

The other guard was nervously transferring glances between all the parties. He knew Domingo would do nothing to stop anything this woman planned to do.

Heidi moved behind Helmut and the armchair. Lifting her pistol level with the back of Helmut's head she took three steps back.

"We can take him with us!" yelled Domingo. "He will be safe."

Heidi did not respond. Again she took careful aim. The sound of the pistol shot made them all except Heidi, jump. Helmut fell forward from the armchair on to the floor.

Domingo and the guard ran forward. Heidi sensed rather than saw their movement and held up a hand indicating them to stay back. Fearfully they obeyed. Heidi moved around the armchair to where Helmut lay. Putting the pistol on the armchair, she crouched down beside Helmut and lifted his head onto her lap.

In the silence following, Domingo and the guard could hear rapid loud and heavy breathing. Domingo could see Heidi, but no part of Helmut. The armchair and Heidi's torso were blocking his view. He could see Heidi stroking the hidden head on her lap.

Shocked, Domingo looked down at his feet, closed his eyes, and nodded his head backward and forward. He listened to the heavy breathing for what seemed an eternity but was probably only seconds. After a time he noticed a change in the breathing. It became jerky and broken. Soft shallow sobs started. Domingo started to feel guilty about his feeling of angst toward Heidi. He knew she was upset about what she had had to do.

The sobs got louder and longer. Domingo jerked his head up quickly as he realised the sounds were too deep in tone to be coming from Heidi. "My God," he panted. "You've only wounded him."

The sobs became a loud and wailing cry. He rushed to the back of the couch to see what was happening. He saw Heidi stroking Helmut's forehead and hair. Helmut's face was turned upward, tears streaming down his face. He was mumbling something in German and Heidi was responding softly to his words.

Domingo could not see any blood, then, saw a small bullet hole in the front wall under the window. He felt himself frowning, then as he realised what had happened he felt his whole body relax.

"I thought you'd shot him," he said.

Heidi looked up and frowned in response.

Domingo turned around and began to laugh hysterically. His companion looked at him as though he too had gone mad. Then he spoke with him in Tagalog to tell what he guessed had happened.

Heidi knew that although she had broken Helmut's trance, it might take a long time before Helmut would be back to normal, if ever. She just hoped the discharge of the pistol past his right ear had not damaged the ear drum.

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

Despite feeling tired and being wrapped in a sheet against the rain forest bugs, T.A. could not sleep. He did not want to disturb Pater's sleep and so contented himself with his own thoughts.

He had been thinking of Malou and wondering what her true thoughts were about him. He thought about Pater's comments about her roving eye. He knew that Pater, a man of few words, was a man whose words should be heeded. He remembered that Gunther too had made a similar comment to him. At the time he passed it off as Gunther's envy. Malou had confided to Di that the good looking Filipino would contact her when she went back to Cebu. Gunther passed the confidence on to T.A. during one of his semi-intoxicated stupors. T.A. had again passed that off as alcohol tainted talk.

Still, all the other signs had been there, he had simply chosen to ignore them. He had justified Malou's behaviour as explainable by cultural differences rather than trusting his instincts. He had even asked her why she did not even show as much affection to him as many of the "paid" women did to their partners. She responded by saying that she did not want to act like a "paid" woman. T.A. knew now that was merely an excuse.

He began thinking about how he would feel if she was not with him. She had never been the only option in his future plans. After all, the main reason he came to the Philippines this time was to check out how he truly felt and to hopefully discover how she truly felt. That was what he was now discovering.

There had always been nagging doubts about her sincerity, and therefore her honesty in what she was saying. He had never been able to rationalise what it was. It was the asides of others that had highlighted the suspicions he had suppressed. Perhaps his lack of real concern was a reflection of his true feelings.

If he accepted the facts; Malou and he had no future together. But how would she react? Past indications were that it would be either total indifference, or at the other extreme, a violent and screaming one. There never seemed to be any middle ground with Malou.

Sounds of nearby twigs snapping brought his mind back to the present. He froze; keeping his eyes closed and wondered if Pater had heard the same sounds. A hand clamped over his mouth. T.A. did not panic. He guessed it was Pater making sure he did not call out. Opening his eyes he could see enough of the outline to confirm his thoughts. T.A. nodded his head to indicate that he was alert and aware of what was happening. Pater's free hand crossed his mouth to indicate silence.

T.A. had no intention of making a sound or moving. He was sorely tempted to reach for the nearby M16.

Subdued voices drifted to his ears. T.A. could see the frown forming on Pater's face and wondered what it was for. T.A. could not make out what language the trespassers were using, but the voices did not sound like Filipinos.

After a few minutes, the voices stopped and sounds of people moving away carried to their ears. Pater kept his hands raised for silence.

Minutes ticked away. T.A. wondered why Pater was still suspicious. It was possible that the voices could be those of rescuers.

The sound of voices began again. T.A. was pleased Pater's senses were correct. Pater leaned forward and put his mouth down to T. A.'s ear.

"Arabic," he whispered.

T.A. realised his face reflected his curiosity. Pater leaned forward to his ear again.

"Two still here, two or more have gone on."

T.A. scratched his ear where Pater had whispered. Pater saw him and pursed his lips as though giving him a kiss, then winked. Despite the danger they were in, Pater still had his warped sense of humour. T.A. put his head down to control his laughter.

Pater slowly reached past T.A. and gingerly picked up the baseball bat. He pushed it into T.A.'s right hand, then, indicated to T.A. to get out from the sheet, which he did carefully. As soon as his legs were clear, Pater removed the diving knife from the sheath and pushed it into T. A.'s left hand. Then nodding in the negative, he had obviously had a change of mind. He took the knife out of T.A's hand and replaced it into the sheath.

Pater leaned forward again to whisper.

"Later."

T.A. knew from Pater's actions that Pater did not have enough confidence in him to successfully undertake whatever action he had initially planned. T.A. was both pleased and disappointed at the same time.

A few minutes later, T.A. heard the remaining intruders move off.

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

### MT. KANLAON, NEGROS

Looking at the written record of the radio reports showed most of the groups that were able to contact "Tour Organiser" had pulled out. AFP responses to the takeovers had varied widely, but most groups had inflicted some casualties on the different arms of the AFP.

Tiredness had caused some diminution in the responses that still came through. Though reports had dwindled to a trickle as resorts were abandoned, radio reports had increased. Overall, Warvic was smugly very pleased with the results.

Suraido Arompak though had become progressively quieter. No doubt considering what explanation he would have to provide to his Muslim colleagues. If the reason for the change in the original plan was not well presented or well argued, then the old schisms would worsen. Fragmentation into different personality led groups would be greater than those existing before. His personal situation was grave. He thought about his chances of physical and political survival and did not like the answers. He knew early in the operation that he had been duped in the real purpose of the mission. But he had acquiesced in that knowledge and done nothing to report it to his Muslim allies. That did not include the problems he would find himself in with the Libyans.

It would be difficult to convince them of the advantages of the alternate mission of withdrawals from resorts as was undertaken. He had many more hours to think about it. He might feel different later. Perhaps his earlier thought about it being the first time all Muslims had united might still be the best way to put his argument.

Warvic had given the signal to be ready to break camp at a moment's notice. She wanted her return to Mindanao to be during the day. The outward appearance of their bancas was the same as those of any night-time fishermen. It was unlikely they would attract any abnormal attention. They would need a few hours to get to the coast.

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

### NORTH OF APUAO GRANDE

Captain de Mesa's little flotilla were nearing the northern side of Little Apuao. His stomach muscles were tightening in direct relation to the approaching nearness of the island. Thankfully the sea was flat, he was not a mariner. Sea travel on anything other than a flat sea always caused him to vomit, even if he had no food to bring up.

The flotilla, led by the P.C.F. (Patrol Craft-Fast), slowed. Then they stopped, about 600 metres north of the smaller island. De Mesa pulled his banca alongside the P.C.F. The young naval Lieutenant and de Mesa consulted briefly and made minor adjustments to their earlier plans. After casual salutes, each proceeded to go about the business they were to undertake.

De Mesa waved to his own three men seconded to the P.C.F. Two were already lying flat on the cramped forw'd deck, weapons ready. The third was near the stern. De Mesa watched the P.C.F. pull forward slowly. The twin diesel engines, though still barely using power, were loud in the otherwise still of the night. Diesel fumes drifted over him and the wake caused his banca to roll. The combination of fumes and the rolling sensation made him dry reach. Within seconds, the other soldiers in his banca were following suit, some bringing up the remains of their last meal.

The P.C.F. did a lazy semi-circle, and headed north to disguise the direction of its approach to Apuao Grande.

De Mesa waited until he saw it change course twice more before heading south to make its first fast run past the beach of the resort. When he saw them begin the southerly course he indicated to his men to check their weapons and nodded to the shanghaied banca drivers. It was still about 30 minutes to dawn. The eastern horizon had begun almost imperceptibly to lighten.

The bows of the four small bancas rose with the surge of their motors. De Mesa sat in the bow of his banca feeling exposed, waiting to spot any tell-tale flashes from weapons firing at their approach.

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

Heidi's feelings about Helmut's mental return to the real world were mixed. They were now sitting opposite each other at the kitchen table. Heidi had kept the topics of conversation light, but found it a struggle. Neither their common experiences, nor their unusual up-bringing gave any easy or light-hearted subjects for discussion. Helmut, by choice, had always been a man of few words, so the task was difficult. At least he was responding to her trivial questions and offering suggestions where Heidi had expected them to be given. Heidi sensed a profound change deep within Helmut's psyche had altered his perspective of the reason they were here. She wondered how much she could rely on him if the circumstances required any violent response.

She knew she had lost too much time helping Helmut. There had been no time to check the new defensive positions or the hostages. She had to trust Boy and Dandan's abilities to oversee her instructions and use a little nous. There had been no time to check for an explanation on the missing group.

There was a short sharp buzz from the R/T that Domingo was holding. Domingo quickly moved to Heidi and gave it to her. He remained nearby in case the message was in Tagalog.

"Yes?" she snapped.

"Aziz here."

"What is it?"

"I'm still on the ridge and I can see what I think is a navy patrol craft."

"What's it doing?"

"It's moving at speed and seems to be going to pass by your position very shortly."

"Hold your fire unless they fire first. Pass the message on to everyone else on the ridge and to Raji and Dandan. Use the R/T. Out."

Heidi turned to Domingo.

"Quickly," she said. "Get to the machine gun crew on the beach and tell them not to fire unless fired at. I've got to contact Boy and those at the Spit."

As Domingo ran out, Heidi buzzed Rico at the Spit. He advised that he could hear the engines. Then she called Lorna at the barrio.

While Heidi made the calls she kept a close watch on Helmut's reactions. Unprompted, he got out of his chair and picked up his M16 and his mask. "At least that was positive," she thought. But doubts over his resolve to complete set tasks persisted.

Domingo ran back through the door.

"Lights off," she snapped at him and he instantly obeyed.

Immediately the room was plunged into darkness, Heidi realised it would take a few seconds to see sufficiently to regain her weapon and move out the door.

"Can you cope?" Heidi asked of Helmut.

"Ya," he replied, managing to find her in the dark. He had retrieved Heidi's M16 and was handing it to her when they began to hear the deep roar of the P.C.F. engines.

Sight sufficiently restored, Heidi ran out the already open front door facing the carabao track. Crouching, she ran around the house, close to the wall. After turning the corner she threw herself flat onto the verge above the beach. Helmut, Domingo and the other Filipinos were soon at her side. Helmut had sufficient presence of mind to put his mask on and handed Heidi hers.

They had barely begun to lie flat when they saw the darkened outline of the P.C.F. moving past at speed. The loud deep roar of the engines made it obvious that the P.C.F. could never make a surprise raid. With the eastern sky beginning to light up behind them, they were backlit; the P.C.F. on the western side of the island was still in greater darkness. Heidi could vaguely see figures on board, but could not tell whether they were looking toward the Island on a reconnaissance mission, or by coincidence, simply passing by. Distance in this light was too difficult to estimate, but the P.C.F. may have been as close as 200 metres.

She considered their speed indicated they were passing by on a patrol to another destination.

As soon as the P.C.F. passed to the south-west of the Island, Heidi turned to Domingo.

"Get one of the missile launchers and a couple of missiles in case they come back. We mightn't get a better chance to use up some of the arsenal."

"Whoopee!" responded Domingo as he jumped up to get the requested equipment.

"Helmut, do you want to use it?" asked Heidi.

"Nein."

Heidi thought briefly on his negative reply before pulling the R/T from her belt and switched to Channel 3 and buzzed.

"Aziz here."

"Can you see what is happening with the P.C.F.?"

"It stopped west of Canton. I can see it's turning and looks like it's gonna head back past the resort."

"O. K. Don't fire at it unless you hear us open up from the beach. Do you think you could hit it with a missile from there?"

"Yes please."

"Well, get a launcher ready. But no firing unless we open up from the beach."

"O. K."

Heidi had just switched off when her R/T buzzed again.

"Boy here."

"Where are you?"

"On the beach verge about 50 metres south of you."

"Dandan?"

"Just north of the restaurant."

"Raji?"

"Still covering all the prisoners."

"Tell him to stay there if the shooting starts, and to make all the hostages lie face down."

"Lorna's stopping any fishermen leaving the barrio. But some went several hours ago."

"Be ready. Aziz says they're coming back. Hold your fire until we start."

"We're ready. Out."

Heidi noticed Domingo had rejoined her. The new day was starting to have its effect on the available light. The cicadas were starting their day unaware and uncaring of the events about to happen.

# CHAPTER 44

## THE NAVY INTERLUDE

### APUAO GRANDE

De Mesa's flotilla was only 100 metres from landfall. He had begun to think perhaps there was nothing awry. By now the P.C.F. would have passed the area near the resort. He had not heard the sound of any gunfire. Whatever the reason for the loss of communication by the resort H. Q. with the resort, he still had to find out why.

The bows of the bancas gently nudged onto the rocky northern approach of Little Apuao. His men all hit the stones running off the bow; and within seconds had cleared the beach and were in the cover of the rain forest. De Mesa had to decide how to split his remaining 29 men. Eventually he decided on three groups of 10. One would advance through the centre of the island and, the second would pass around the beach front to the east to get any information from the barrio occupants. He would take the last group around the western side.

He issued his instructions and stressed the importance of the rendezvous being unseen 20 metres inside the forest near the sand-spit.

A quick nod of the head and three pre-arranged groups started off on their separate missions. He grunted in disgust as see saw the four bancas with their four shanghaied drivers, rapidly and noisily gun their engines and pull away from the shore.

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

Heidi noticed the P.C.F. passing the south-west tip of Apuao Grande near the barrio. This time the speed was much slower and obviously the P.C.F. crew was giving the resort a closer inspection. The extra light of day enabled Heidi to see how well her opposition was armed. It looked like twin 50 calibre machine guns mounted forward and one on the stern deck. All were pointing toward the Island. Heidi knew that type of firepower could cause trouble if they accurately located a target. Then she noticed men, apparently prone on the deck. They too seemed to be armed.

The P.C.F.'s pass-by was more than idle curiosity. It was not unexpected. It was after all what they were here for. The P.C.F. still kept a respectable 200 metre distance offshore as it cruised slowly toward the front of her position. Heidi wondered if she should wait for it to make a third pass, which she knew it would do if there was no reaction to this pass. Any third pass would be even closer to her positions making her firepower even more deadly. But that would also work for the P.C.F. with its 50 calibre machine guns. Their ability to identify the source of fire would be easier.

Heidi considered her possibilities. One of her 50 calibre machine guns was at the spit and the P.C.F would not be in its arc of fire. The 50 calibre on the ridge would be able to fire on the P.C.F., but they would lose time in getting the correct range. It was difficult to estimate distance over the sea. Her main immediate reply would be the 50 calibre gun above the beach under the overhanging tree. They would not start firing until she and the others had begun with fire from their M16's. A few precious seconds of surprise would be lost before her heavy weapons came into play.

She suddenly remembered that she had not checked the training skills of the men on the 50 calibre gun on the beach. Maybe they had no training in its use. Only select people were ever trained. It was too late now to check and organise replacements.

If she opened the action with a missile there would be no need to rely on the skills of others. Leaning across, she picked up the launcher, pulled down the handle, lifted the sight and shifted her position to a crouch.

The P.C.F. was now almost at the closest point it would be to her position. She lifted the loaded launcher to her shoulder and carefully looked along the sight. Continued sight of the vessel would be important as there might not be sufficient heat being generated by the P.C.F. to attract the missiles heat seeking capabilities.

Heidi squeezed the trigger and the whoosh of the missile leaving the tube temporarily threw her careful sighting to a point above the P.C.F. She quickly corrected the sighting back to the water-line below the P.C.F.'s bridge.

With satisfaction she watched the missile cruise back to the sighted path and head toward the P.C.F.. About two-thirds of its journey complete, the missile began to arc upward and to the left of the boat. In dismay Heidi watched it then curve away to the south before straightening and continuing a course toward its ultimate ending south of Canton.

The crew on the boat had already begun firing wildly toward the Island, still without identified targets to aim at. The guerillas now joined in the fire-fight. The effect of the P.C.F.'s 50 calibre guns soon made their presence felt as the trees above Heidi's group were suddenly shattered with a withering burst. Branches of varying sizes began to fall on their position. All her group stopped firing while they extracted themselves from the mess.

Firing at the P.C.F. was still coming from under the overhanging tree, Boy's group down the beach, from the ridge and Dandan's group.

A flash across the sky to Heidi's front made her realise that Aziz from the ridge had fired one of his missiles at the now fast moving craft. Her eye picked up the trail of the missile while it still had 150 metres to go. Then, 50 metres from its target it too arced upwards and left.

"The bloody guidance system's wrongly calibrated," screamed Heidi.

She snatched the second missile lying near Domingo, brushed it clean of leaf litter and inserted it. The P.C.F. was now at top speed, still racing broadside on, but now to her right. The acceleration of the P.C.F. would generate more heat in the engine for the missile to lock on to.

Again, after sighting, she squeezed the trigger. This time she had held it steady so the line of sight never left the P.C.F.. With trepidation she watched the missiles progress. Again with 50 metres to go it seemed to wobble in its path. Heidi cursed silently willing it to go on. The P.C.F. must have seen the earlier rocket launches and was nearly at its maximum speed as it turned away to increase the distance from the danger. However in so doing it exposed its hot exhaust plumes out of the stern. The missile recovered stability with a good heat-lock and smashed into the hull below the bridge where she had kept the sights fixed.

The explosion ripped the boat in two parts, each lifting out of the water before a second explosion threw thousands of parts of the shattered boat high into the sky. As the pieces dropped back toward the sea, many caught the reflections of the sun as it now appeared over the horizon. The thousands of twinkling pieces giving an unrealistic, almost novel entertaining effect of pathos to the tragedy that had occurred.

She stood and cheered. Then she noticed Helmut was not cheering. He just looked expressionless at the destruction before him.

Domingo stopped cheering when he looked down. One of his companions was still lying on the ground. Domingo kneeled quickly and rolled the figure over. It was the soldier who had just come down off the ridge. A hole, the size of a thumb, was just above his left eye. The back of his head was missing. He must have died instantly. Domingo and the other soldier quickly crossed themselves.

Heidi suddenly felt deflated. She was not happy with the way things were going. Too many events beyond her control were happening.

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

The last of de Mesa's groups had rushed to the assembly point when they heard the shooting start. No-one had met any opposition. They had surprised and frightened some early rising local barrio members preparing for the new day.

Several soldiers had crept forward to the outer extremities of the forest next to the sand-spit. They watched with wonder at the fire-power of the little P.C.F.. When the massive explosion occurred they all gasped in awe at the effect on the dawning sky.

Foolishly, several less experienced soldiers stood up and moved forward for a better view. Their protagonists at the other end of the sand-spit had better discipline.

Four of de Mesa's soldiers were hit by fire from across the spit before those standing realised the noises were not part of the remote action. The casualties were dragged back into the forest while de Mesa cursed the stupidity of the youngsters.

He quickly checked to confirm that his two corporals from the Daet episode were uninjured. Then checking those hit he saw that one of the four youngsters was already dead. Another was unlikely to survive a bad stomach wound, but he was conscious and screaming. That was bad for morale. The other two had minor treatable wounds. Even though they were out of action for this battle, they would be back on parade within weeks.

De Mesa extracted a syringe from his medical pouch. A pain killing injection into the thigh of the dying soldier would alleviate the agony part of his dying and silence his screaming before the other youngsters started to panic.

His chance of surprise at crossing the narrow 100 metre sand-spit was gone. Now, the action would be one of sniping and attrition. He had already lost seven of the 32 he had started out with. That included the three on the P.C.F he had to presume were dead. Despite this he knew he held some small advantages. Firstly, time was on his side, eventually help would come. Secondly, he could spread his soldiers across a wider front to fire at the defenders of the sand-spit. They by contrast had a narrow neck approach to the sand-spit on their side and had to concentrate forces in less cover. It was much thinner than the cover his men had. His estimate of the opposition at this stage was sketchy from the opening bursts. He knew there was at least one heavy machine gun. For his own soldiers he had to ensure ammunition was not wasted, there would be no re-supply.

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

Heidi's R/T buzzed.

"Yes?"

"Rico here," she heard him screaming into the R/T. "We're under attack at the spit."

"Who by and how many?"

"They're soldiers and lots of them. Send help."

Heidi was frustrated with Rico's panic and lack of rational assessment of the opposition. But she could not take any risks.

"I'll send Dandan's group to you."

"Yes, yes."

"Out," said Heidi, wanting to cut short Rico's panic. She buzzed Dandan, told him of the situation and to take control.

"Domingo, check the machine gun crew on the beach."

He jumped forward over the sand verge, on to the beach and ran toward the overhanging tree. Heidi wondered if the P.C.F. had managed to get any radio reports away before the fatal missile struck. Then she buzzed Boy, Aziz and Raji to check on casualties. Boy reported one walking wounded. Thankfully there were no others. Raji reported there was a lot of screaming among the hostages but no injuries.

By the time she had finished her calls, Domingo had returned. She saw from the expression on his face that something was wrong.

"Well?"

"They're both dead," he replied, head down. "They've been shot to pieces. They must have taken a full blast. Even the machine gun is bent out of shape."

Heidi knew she could not delay the withdrawal for a further 11 hours until after sunset. The enemy was now at the side door. She could not rely on the remaining three missiles, one of three heavy machine guns was unserviceable and she now had only 21 regulars, plus the eight management team fit for action, if she included Helmut. And that was another problem. A cursory visual check of his M16 after the fire-fight with the P.C.F. showed that he had not fired a shot. His heart and commitment had still not returned.

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

When the shooting started, T.A. was confused. It was coming both from north east and south-east of their position. He thought Pater's earlier assumption about the voices outside their hide-away might be wrong. They could have been rescuers.

"It'd be a bit risky to go out at the moment," said Pater. "There'd be too many trigger happy shooters if you were seen in the open."

"But what about the voices we heard, couldn't they have been soldiers?"

"Nah, they spoke Arabic."

"You sure?"

"Yep. I 've worked in that area often enough. I can even understand the odd word or two. They weren't Filipino."

"Was it the Iranians?"

"Hang on. Have you forgotten already? The guy that killed Podgy was an Arab. He'd been whispering to one of his mates in Arabic. There's Arabs involved, I know that, I just don't know from where."

"The dead one wasn't one of the Iranians."

"I know, they mightn't be....."

A loud explosion cut Pater short.

"Jesus, what was that. There's some heavy shit going on."

Silence immediately followed Paters comment. T.A. wondered what had caused the shooting to stop so abruptly. Just as suddenly, shooting started again, but now to their north.

"Sounds like the spit," offered Pater. "I better see what's happening."

"Not without me."

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

Heidi began to hope the P.C.F. had managed to get a message sent, especially if they said they were facing missiles. That would reduce the likelihood of an aircraft or helicopter attack, or a frontal attack on the main beach.

Any thought-out mission would probably mean a surrounding of the island at a distance, then sneak landings on the blind side of Canton Island and further landings on Little Apuao. From good sniping positions on those islands her soldiers' positions would be untenable.

Heidi decided she would reduce the numbers of regulars gradually rather than a mass exodus. The danger from the soldiers at the spit could be controlled. She could reduce Aziz's group on the ridge from six to three. Raji guarding the hostages only needed two helpers. That meant six could leave early and take the bodies and the wounded Filipino with them. With 15 regulars left and the eight management group she could cope for now.

The mystery of the missing group of four still worried her. Before she could investigate that, the hostages would need to be fed and supplied with water. Then, food and water to last her soldiers for the day.

She grabbed the R/T and asked Boy to organise kitchen staff from among the hostages to prepare the food. The early leavers could deliver the food, then go. She was sure there would be no immediate direct assault across the Spit from Little Apuao for now. It would be suicidal. But the arrival of any heavily armed reinforcements would change that assessment.

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

"Wait here for a few minutes," said Pater quietly. "I'll do a quick check of the trail. Maybe I can tell how many Arabs there were and where they were heading."

T.A. nodded and watched Pater sheath his deadly knife and pocket his .22 pistol. Then he checked over the M16 gathered from one of the dead Filipinos. After listening carefully at the narrow opening he crawled out.

To be ready for his return, T.A. checked if the diving knife attached to his leg was secure. He wondered whether to take the baseball bat with the M16 that he now had. Apart from Pater's brief instruction on how to use it, he had never handled one. He decided to take both.

"Stay in there," a gruff voice rasped quickly from outside the hide-away. T.A. recognised it as Pater's voice and wondered what was wrong. Within seconds he guessed at the answer.

"Where the hell did you two guys come from?" said Pater.

T.A. was only confused for a moment. Someone had obviously seen Pater on the track and he was trying to tell T.A. what was happening.

"You two guys are too big to be Filipino, and those bloody rifles are dangerous where you're pointing them," he went on. "Are you Arabs part of a rescue party?"

T.A. understood what Pater was indicating. He heard Pater moving left away from the hide-away entry in an attempt to keep T.A.'s position safe. But he wondered what Pater was expecting him to do and why Pater had not used his M16.

They obviously had Pater covered; otherwise he would have shot first. Then T.A. wondered why the Arabs had not fired. The trail was only wide enough for one person at a time. The Arabs had still not said anything.

Pater's voice became louder and showed he had moved to about 10 metres to the left of the entry.

"Shit, even you pricks couldn't miss me from 10 metres."

He was telling T.A. the gap between them. T.A. could hear both the Arabs pass the entry. He just wished he could guess what Pater wanted him to do.

"O. K., so you arseholes don't want to make noise. Is that why you've got your big knife out? I might just jump over you and stick it up your arse."

T.A. tried to think what Pater wanted, but his common sense was telling him to stay where he was. His body was shaking inside telling him he was too scared. Pater was expecting him to help. But how did Pater want him to do it? Should he charge out screaming and shooting? He knew he did not know enough about the M16 and he might hit Pater anyway. He knew he could not just stick a knife into the nearest Arab's back. He tightened his grip on the baseball bat and began to crawl quietly toward the entry.

The nearest and hindmost Arab was 5 metres away, carrying two M16's, one slung over his back the other pointing downward. His back was to T.A..

The furthest Arab was also carrying 2 M16's, one slung and the other pointed presumably at Pater. T.A. could not see Pater.

The thought of Podgy's body lying on the bar flashed across his mind. It seemed to trigger his anger. T.A. charged forward. It all seemed just as before when he used the bat. This time though he heard himself scream as he began to swing the bat. The man to his front began to turn.

T.A. did not have as much room as before. The swinging bat glanced off an overhanging branch and down on to the barrel of the M16 the Arab had now raised. It flew into the forest end over end. The jarring from the blow shot up T.A's arms and he almost let go of the bat. The Arab was quick and he began to unsling the remaining M16. T.A. swung the bat upwards, this time aiming at the barrel which was beginning to threaten him. The effect of the strike hit the barrel back and upwards onto the Arab's masked face making him stumble backward.

Instinct for preservation of his life made T.A. drive forward while the Arab was off balance. Two handed he rammed the bat into the Arab's stomach region. The Arab bent forward with the blow, then, T.A. drove the bat up under the Arab's chin. The man fell back into the forest at the side of the trail.

T.A. readied to swing the bat at the second Arab. Pater was already pushing the head of the second Arab into the ground.

From Pater's expression and holding the bloody knife, the second Arab was already dead. Pater looked up at T.A., then moved quickly to the Arab T.A. had hit. Pater crouched and from the sweeping stroke of Pater's arm T.A. guessed the Arab's throat was now slit just as those of the four Filipinos on the trail had been.

"You're worth you're weight in gold boy," Pater said.

T.A. had that hollow feeling again. He was not pleased with what he had done, but he knew he had to do it.

Pater unmasked the two bodies before dragging them further into the rain forest. He hid the four M16's behind a tree a further 10 metres down the trail.

"They were Arabs all right. When the first one drew his knife on me, I guessed for some reason they didn't want to attract any attention by shooting me." Pater paused for a few seconds and looked at T.A.

"You're blood's worth bottling."

T.A. shuddered. He wanted to keep all his own blood.

# CHAPTER 45

## SUNRISE

### APUAO GRANDE

With sunrise the advantages of night vision glasses were gone. Wreckage and bodies from the P.C.F. were floating closer to the shore with the incoming tide. Any overflying aircraft on a routine search would easily spot the debris. Heidi did not want any further investigations this early in the day. It could already be too late. The P.C.F., or the soldiers if they had a radio, might already have reported problems on Apuao Grande.

The only positive was that Helmut was at least mobile and more conscious than he had been, though his mental perceptions had obviously changed. Heidi did not know what tasks he was capable of, or how much she could rely on him without his reverting to his catalepsy. For the time being she would just make sure he was always nearby.

She picked up her w/t as she watched through the window as the last banca of irregulars pulled away from the southern end of the beach. Domingo approached to help.

He passed on Heidi's instructions for the Group Leaders to ensure they gathered their civilian clothing to carry with them. After that they were to begin sending their NPA regulars to the beach in readiness to depart. The only exceptions were those protecting the spit. That would be a last minute substitution where Boy or Dandan, clothes changed, could fire the occasional shot from hidden positions.

Heidi knew she must retain firepower at the spit in case the officer of the AFP forces had an outbreak of bravery and tried to charge. She had no idea of the numbers in his force.

An untimely assault over the spit would throw the withdrawal into chaos. Just one or two M203 grenade launchers and a dozen grenades would have discouraged any immediate charge, but there were none in the weapons supplied. Heidi thought that perhaps firing the remaining Stingers, and the three RPG's at the AFP positions might serve the same purpose. Whether they would fly accurately she did not know, and she did not have contact detonators for the missiles, so they might not explode anyway. But even one exploding in their close proximity could discourage any imminent charge. That would allow time enough for the substitutions.

She would take her group to check out hilltop positions for firing at the spit. Once that was set up, the last of the regulars must be ready to go at a moment's notice.

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

### LITTLE APUAO

Captain de Mesa sat with and watched the young soldier with the stomach wound die. The soldier was not in any pain being so doped up on morphine. All through his dying, apart from the dilation of his pupils, the soldier's eyes reflected happiness.

Now that sunlight was here, de Mesa made a fuller inspection of the spit from heavy cover. Though it was only about 100 metres in length he could not see where the opposition was dug in or defending from. His perception of the source of fire before sun-up was different now with full light.

Without a radio he could not call for assistance. He had sent a soldier off to the barrio to acquire a banca and go back to Mercedes to report what had happened. Two other soldiers were left with the two wounded at the barrio to double as carers and ensure the villagers did not interfere. He did not know where their loyalties lay. Two more were waiting at the rocky strip where they had disembarked before dawn to guide any reinforcements when they arrived.

His remaining 20 soldiers were kept back 10 metres in the forest while he considered how to gauge the opposition he faced.

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

### APUAO GRANDE

"Pater, you have a knack for getting caught."

"Yeah. It's this bloody problem with my ears. It seems like I can hear things but then they sometimes filter out sounds I can normally hear."

"I've never really known what it is you work at."

"I'll tell you over a beer one day, just you and me."

"But what about your ears?"

"Oh, they don't drink, but I'll bring them with me."

"Nah, you know what I mean."

"Yeah. As I said, it was as a result of being too close to an explosion. The doctors aren't sure how long before they'll be fully right. Let's go see if we can see anything on the spit, maybe swim over to Little Apuao. I know you can swim."

T.A. let Pater lead off.

"Remember, keep looking over your shoulder, and keep checking that you can't see over the ridge because if you can, they'll be damn sure able to see you. And when we get to the view of the spit don't look over top of the cover, look through it."

"Gotcha," responded T.A.

"What? Are you going to tell me that old joke about deafness now?"

"You know it too?"

"Yeah. Right, now shut up and let's start sneaking."

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

### LITTLE APUAO

De Mesa's 20 soldiers had spread as wide as they could along the edge of the rain forest, but still under cover. Every fifth soldier began single-shot probing fire into the low scrub and scattered trees of Apuao Grande, south of the sand spit.

He waited for the return fire to estimate the numbers of the opposition and try to spot their defensive positions. Despite two minutes of regular fire there was no response.

One of his Daet veterans was at his side.

"What do you reckon? Have they gone?" said de Mesa.

"Cagey. Good discipline too," replied the soldier, who had been promoted to sergeant after the Daet raid.

"I can't risk a charge over the spit, but I can't just sit here. If we try to land somewhere else in a banca, well, you saw what happened to the PCF."

"Why can't we wait? The brass are hoping we get killed. We're just waiting for reinforcements, right?"

"Right! Maybe they won't send anyone, then what?"

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

### APUAO GRANDE, SAN MIGUEL BAY

Heidi had R/T'd Boy and Dandan to report to her and reminded the other Group Leaders to make sure they had their civilian clothing with them. All the Group Leaders were told to begin sending their NPA regulars to the resort in readiness to depart. The only exceptions were those protecting the spit, and the last minute substitution of Boy and Dandan.

Boy and Dandan entered in response to Heidi's call.

"I want the next group to be ready to leave in about an hour. I'd like them all to go, but the problem at the spit has ruined that."

"What about the last group?" said Boy.

"Get the resort boat ready. The one they use for water skiing. And the motorised surf skis just in case."

"Where to?"

"Just south of the over-hanging tree. Leave your regulars to guard them. You two pick up your gear ready for the quick change back to holiday clothes. Take the others their gear and then just patrol around ready for trouble. Stay together. Maybe check for signs of the missing four."

Heidi looked at Domingo.

"I might need you for a little longer, but your friend can go to guard the boats."

Domingo grinned.

"What are you going to do?" asked Boy.

"Helmut, Domingo and I are going to see if we can transfer some of our spit defence to a high point on the north. Somewhere overlooking the spit."

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

Mohammed watched from his rain forest cover as the bodies and wounded were loaded into the bancas before they departed. Most of the occupants lay down and covered themselves with fishing nets. To unknowing observers there only looked to be two fishermen leaving for a late start.

He turned to Ali.

"The bitch must still be in the house. Let's get the others."

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

Pater and T.A. looked through the scrub and down on the spit about 250 metres away. T.A. instinctively lowered his head each time the soldiers fired from Little Apuao, even though their aim was at targets 200 metres away.

"I can't see who they're shooting at," said T.A.

"Just probing," replied Pater.

"Maybe there's no-one there."

"Oh yes there is. Several."

"Where? I can't see anything."

"Look for what's different from when you were last there. What's out of place? See that flat lump behind the stunted bush, this side of the broken banca?"

"Yeah."

"That's one."

Still unsure, T.A. nodded a yes, though he did not see anything out of the ordinary.

"There's no safe or easy way down to the shore from here. We'll go back to the hide-a-way. Besides, the soldiers might be a little trigger-happy. They might ping us by mistake."

T.A. watched Pater push himself backward from the bush before getting on to his knees and crawling backwards even further. He then did the same.

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

Heidi listened to the gabble as Domingo gave the orders on the walkie-talkie. Then watched as he briefly talked with, then, shook the hands of the only other remaining member of Heidi's group. With the hood off the young soldier barely looked to be a teenager.

She felt uncomfortable at what she might be expected to do as he left, there was no time for, nor was it her character to give anyone a sign of her disappointment at a parting. She was still thinking this as she gave him a kiss on the cheek. Then before she realised it she was also giving him a hug.

"Danka, danka."

She repeated her kiss and hug with this young soldier and on releasing him realised she had felt comfortable with all these people.

The young man looked in the direction of Helmut who stood gazing out the window. Then he cast a long glance back at Heidi and nodded as if knowing something about Helmut's problem. Pointing to her dirty pink Reeboks he smiled, put on his mask, gave a thumbs-up, and left.

Heidi released the breath she had been holding and raised her eyebrows. She tied hers and Helmut's quick change gear to her belt, picked up her M16, put on her mask and moved toward the door.

"Come on Domingo, we've got work to do."

Domingo nodded, moved toward the door, and stood back as Helmut moved wordlessly to follow Heidi.

A few other masked regulars were already making their way to the beach, their part in this mission already over.

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

"How long before someone's gonna come and sort this out?" asked T.A.

"Dunno. But I sense something's not right."

"Jeez, you don't need to be Einstein to figure that out. None of this is right."

Pater screwed up his face slightly as though trying to locate some thought deep within his mind.

"No. I can't explain it."

T.A. watched Pater's eyes flick through the upper branches of the trees.

"You've been into this sort of thing before haven't you?" asked T.A.

"Like I said, I'll tell you over a quiet beer one day. Right now I need your good ears. Don't think me rude, but shut up and listen. Not just for changes in sound but for sound that doesn't belong."

T.A. knew he didn't have to respond, but felt his body jump involuntarily at another of the irregular probing shots. Their hide-out might be invisible to eyes but ricocheting bullets change direction and pass through leaves.

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

Mohammed raised his arm to stop Ali following as they approached the main track to the hill. He estimated that he was close to the side path where he had left the other two. Though the bush was thick where he was standing, the area beneath his feet showed flattened areas of cogon grass.

He pointed at it and Ali nodded in acknowledgment as he looked around. Someone else had also stopped here. It might have been his colleagues, though it should not be. They had been told to stay on the other side of the path.

Mohammed drew his knife with his right hand; his M16 was in his left. Ali did not have a knife so checked the M16 magazine was securely locked.

Mohammed held his knife hand up for a few seconds, tapped his ear, and held the hand up again. They would wait for a little while and listen.

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

As Heidi's trio passed the tennis court she noticed the only two guards were standing at diametrically opposite corners of the court. Each could see one hundred percent of the court. She knew they were her management crew because they had their quick change kit strapped to their waists. The NPA regulars had gone to the beach.

The detainees barely glanced at Heidi's group passing them. She was a little in wonder at how quickly they had become docile and resigned to their capture.

She also wondered what they would do when the last of the guards disappeared from outside the court. Would some try to smash the padlock and chain on the gate? She grinned at that thought. It was solid. Perhaps someone might dig a hole under the fence as Pater had done. Probably. Then she guessed that it would probably be some of the young Japanese who would quickly scale the fence.

Maybe, after changing, she might watch from cover to see if her guesses were right.

She noticed Doug Maddigan and his Filipina girlfriend Alona sitting by themselves in one corner. Each was trying to console the other over their loss. Heidi knew they would never learn what really happened. Believing they had lost a daughter by drowning was shock enough to handle. The truth was too horrible for anyone.

Her thoughts suddenly flashed to the escapees, Pater and T.A. Maybe one or both were still on the island. As they reached the start of the track up to the water pump she stopped and turned to Domingo.

"Be extra careful that they aren't spotted changing kit or burying weapons. Remind everyone that there are two escapees on the island, possibly watching everything they're doing."

While she waited for Domingo to relay this message to everyone, she thought about Pater. He was not a society drop-out living on a beach. His physical movement was smooth and effortless and his body carried no surplus fat. It was hardened, like Helmut's, though Pater was older than Helmut by quite a few years. Pater was fit. Heidi knew that because she had twice watched him at dawn run two laps of the island using the hill path. He had done the strenuous run with ease. She had watched him too from a distance on the archery range. His skills there were those honed from hours of practice. She had also been surprised at the skills of T.A. at the same time.

T.A. she should be able to handle. Physically not too badly built, but not battle-hard like Pater. Yes, that was it. Pater had a military bearing and fitness. Not like those who have retired. More like those still active. Was he a military Physical Education instructor? He was obviously resourceful. Who or what was he? Yes, Pater could be a real problem. Between her and Helmut they would cope with Pater.

The thought that Pater and T.A. might be together crossed her mind. If that was the case, even T.A. would be a different proposition.

A sudden fast movement past her legs snapped her mind back. She looked down to see the bushy little dog that hung around the restaurant. Perhaps she felt a little kinship with the dog. He belonged to nobody. At least she had Helmut, in a loose sort of a way.

The little dog eyed them all briefly, then turned and loped up the gentle slope of the pump-house path. Within seconds he was out of sight around the slight bend in the path. Domingo coughed politely to attract her attention. He had finished his calls. She nodded, turned and began the ten-minute walk to the trail near the pump-house. That was a good place to overlook the spit.

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

Mohammed decided they had waited long enough. He checked the path to his left, then his right, before carefully edging out. They would only be a few seconds on the main path. He could see the partially hidden start of the small track where he had told his countrymen to wait.

He quickly made the cover of the entry to the side track, turned and waited for Ali. Within seconds Ali had joined him.

Mohammed was a little surprised Moamar and Mahmood 2 were not just inside the path. It was 80-100 metres in length. Maybe they had decided to move back and hide to the side.

He flashed five fingers at Ali twice, then, pushed his palm backward twice. Ali nodded.

Mohammed removed his mask and moved slowly forward. His right hand gripped the knife tightly while his eyes scanned the ground to his front, then left and right of the path. Ali removed his mask and followed ten metres behind.

# CHAPTER 46

## A DOG'S BEST FRIEND

### APUAO GRANDE

T.A. saw frustration on Pater's face. He was trying to listen to sounds. Pater turned his face in different directions for his ears to become directional. Then in frustration, he would insert his little finger into an ear and wiggle it as though trying to clear a blockage.

To T.A., the sounds were unchanged. The different birds maintained their chirps and whistles and the other bugs and creatures their own ongoing sounds. It did not give him any sense of what might be happening.

He tried to concentrate on the sounds of the closer buggy creatures and different birds. To his surprise he found he could filter out the distant sounds. Perhaps this was what he was meant to be doing.

Only minutes after he discovered his new skill he noticed a change in the nearby sounds. Some species of birds had become noisier while others had stopped whistling altogether. The local bugs, too, seemed to have gone quiet. T.A. looked at Pater to see if he had sensed anything. He obviously had not; he was rubbing his ears again in frustration.

T.A. touched Pater's leg to attract his attention, then, held his hand up. Before he realised, he was pointing in the direction of where the change in sound was, on the path just outside their hideaway.

Pater slowly drew his wicked looking knife from its sheath and moved into a crouch. T.A. followed suit, drawing the diving knife from the sheath strapped to his leg.

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

Mohammed's eyes had noticed flattened grasses on the left of the path between two bushes. Slight scrape marks had turned over some older vegetation. Perhaps it was Moamar and Mahmood 2, but he was not going to take any risks.

He held up his knife hand for Ali to remain back the ten metres. Then with the M16 in his left hand he pointed the barrel at the marks.

Both of them stood motionless, listening.

Ali gave a yelp of surprise as a furry creature ran past him. Mohammed turned quickly to see what had happened just as the growling grey dog sank its teeth into his left calf muscle. Pain made him yell out and instinct made him lift his leg. The little mongrel flew off a little further up the trail.

The hackles around Fred's neck were raised as he gave a savage growl from a ready to spring crouch. Then he stood erect to show his size and barked twice before crouching again and growling.

Mohammed's first reaction to the threat was to swap the M16 to his right hand and blow the little mongrel away with a full magazine. Then training replaced the anger. He realised he could deal with this threat using his knife.

Keeping his eyes fixed on the dog and his knife hand outstretched, he gently put his M16 on the ground. Staying in his crouching position he slowly started to inch forward.

"You cursed little dog. Mohammed is going to kill you."

Fred sprang forward just a little with a snarl, but Mohammed controlled his reaction. Then Fred lunged forward again, first one way, then another, but on the second lunge Mohammed swung his knife and found his target. Fred yelped loudly and fell on the right side of the trail.

Mohammed grinned and moved forward to the finish the job. The bushes to his left exploded in his direction. He raised his left arm to shield himself from the new threat and instantly felt pain in his forearm.

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

T.A. was surprised to hear the gasp, then outcry of pain just outside their hide-out. Then hearing the bark and growling knew it was Fred. T.A's first reaction was Fred had led someone to their hide-out. Then he remembered that Fred did not bark except when he was annoying the turkeys. And this was an angry growl. He saw Pater's eyes briefly widen, then, take on a look of hate, as he seemed ready to spring forward.

T.A. knew he would have to follow Pater's lead, whatever it might be, but as soon as Pater heard Fred's yelp of pain, Pater sprang through the bushes. It was too soon for T.A.

Pater lunged at the side of Mohammed to drive his knife in below the rib cage, but the sudden raising of the arm deflected the blow. The advantage of the surprise and the power behind the lunge was lost.

Mohammed rolled forward after the strike taking Pater by surprise. Mohammed regained his feet staying crouched and turned to face his attacker. He quickly backed off a few paces to allow time to assess the threat, but Pater followed him too quickly for him to properly get his balance to parry the next strike or counter with his own knife.

Pater's controlled lunge caught Mohammed's left arm again as it was thrust out in defence. With Mohammed moving backwards he could not get any forward power for a telling counter thrust. He did not know how many more blows his left arm could take before it became useless. He hoped that Ali, now behind Pater, could get off a shot that would not kill him as well as his attacker.

Mohammed grinned as he could see Ali with the rifle already at his shoulder, then froze as another figure charged out of the bush.

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

T.A. had not known what to do when Pater charged out. If he charged out too, what was he going to attack? Pater obviously knew something and had a target or a plan. T.A. did not. He moved closer to the exit to see what was happening. He could not even see Pater but could hear the sounds of grunts and jumps.

For some reason, the former Prime Minister Margaret Thatcher's comment to President George Bush on the Iraqi invasion of Kuwait came into his head. "Now is not the time to go wobbly, George."

Just as he was about to move out to help, a shadow on the path directly to his front caught his eye. He paused. The ground shadow was replaced by a man pulling a rifle up to his shoulder. He lunged out, diving knife thrusting at the target.

T.A.'s blow struck, but not where he wanted it to. The man had his weapon raised and T.A.'s knife struck the shoulder blade a glancing blow. The weapon discharged. When it did T.A. hoped it was not already too late.

The gunman turned at the threat and T.A. lunged again but this time his blade caught the barrel of the rifle. Another shot discharged and this one was too personal for him. His left hand made a grab for the barrel while he continued to try and stab with the knife. The barrel length kept him too far away to reach the gunman with the knife. His one-handed grip on the barrel was not powerful enough to stop the gunman forcing the weapon in T.A's direction. The gunman was no small Filipino. He was bigger than T.A.

He dropped the knife and grabbed for the barrel with his right hand. Now with a two-handed grip he had some control of the aim. Instead of pulling away he stepped closer and inside the gunman's grip, dragging the barrel flat across his chest and turned. The gunman was surprised, but he kept his grip, though he lost some balance. Another shot discharged off into the jungle. T.A. completed the twist and thrust his leg out as he turned.

The gunman tumbled forward, still holding tightly onto the weapon. T.A. followed the fall, not wanting to relinquish his hold. Both of them were on the ground with T.A. on top but with his back to the gunman. The gunman behind him still had one hand holding the stock, T.A. still held the barrel across his chest with both hands. The fall had forced the gunman to release one hand which immediately grabbed T.A.'s hair. The pain made T.A.'s eyes close as he fought to resist giving up the grip on the barrel. He could feel the grip was slipping on his sweat filled hair.

The pain to his head stopped, but the free fist now started to punch his kidneys. T.A. tried but failed to roll over, then was thankful he did not succeed as that would have put the gunman on top.

He flung his head back as he winced in pain from another punch. The gunman's head was too close and another shock of pain shot through the back of his head at the same time as he heard the gunman scream in pain. The back of T.A.'s head had scored a blow on the gunman's nose.

He felt the next punch on the back of his head. He felt dizzy, but knew if he let go or passed out he was dead. The next punch made him see stars and he felt his strength ebbing.

In desperation he let go the grip with his right hand and tried to punch backward over his shoulder. There was no power to the punch and the gunman saw it coming and grabbed T.A's arm. T.A. flung his head back, again catching the gunman a glancing blow on the cheek. Now both the gunman's arms were off the weapon which was lying under them. The gunman's right arm was around T.A's throat, choking off his air and his left hand had grabbed T.A.'s face. While T.A. tried to move his mouth to a position he could bite, the gunman was trying to twist T.A's neck to break it.

The sweat on T.A's face was preventing the gunman getting any firm grip and he felt the hand slowly slipping. The gunman's fingers crossed T.A's mouth. He bit with all the power his jaw could manage.

The scream in T.A's ear was painful but he was free of the grip. He tried to regain his feet but the dizziness caused him to stumble onto his hands and knees. He gasped for breath. Something blocked the passage to his throat. An involuntary cough forced the hard thing onto the back of his teeth and he spat it out.

Just as he recognised what it was, he saw a foot swinging in the direction of his face. His instincts were enough to avoid the full impact to his face though it still caught him on the right side of the head before glancing onto his right shoulder. His arm lost all strength as he tumbled forward and rolled on to his back.

T.A. tried to see where his attacker was but his eyes could not focus properly. Then he saw the outline of the figure bend down and pick up the abandoned M16. His senses cleared as he watched almost with a feeling of disinterest as the figure tried to hold, then, point the weapon in his direction. All the action seemed slow. He could even see the blood pumping out of the hand where he had bitten off the gunman's right index finger.

T.A. let his head drop back on to the cogon grass, closed his eyes and waited for the inevitable. He did not care any longer. He heard the screaming voice, the exploding sound and felt the searing pain in his head.

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

Heidi led her trio along the path, five metres apart as trained. The little dog was long gone on his journey. She wondered where he slept at night and wondered if his dog brain had figured out that there was something different happening on the island at this time. She had seen many of the guests feed him from the scraps on their plates, even pour him saucers of beer which he took great delight in drinking. However it was a habit most guests stopped very quickly as it caused a very prompt biological reaction in the dog's stomach. The resultant smell from the generated wind meant guests did not repeat that treat.

The gentle incline to the hilltop began to get steeper. She could hear the dog growling and barking somewhere ahead of her. She guessed he had again found the wild turkeys that he seemed to love harassing. She grinned as she heard the dog yelp. One of the male turkeys had obviously managed to get a strike back.

At the sound of the shot she dived to the side of the trail and rolled into the cover of the rain forest. As she crouched at the ready she swung the M16 on to her back, held in place by the belt, and drew her pistol. The long barrel of the M16 might be a disadvantage in this thick entangling undergrowth.

When the second shot came she realised her group was not the target. Just in case she was wrong, she was cautious as she put her head out to glance up the path. When she heard the third shot she knew exactly where it had come from, the semi-hidden path on the side of the main trail, only fifteen metres away.

Heidi had barely re-emerged onto the path when Helmut charged past. She was pleased. Helmut seemed to have snapped out of his inaction and was taking the lead.

Heidi watched Helmut stop at the entry to the side trail and raise his hand for those following to pause. Then gently he parted the bushes at the entry to the path and disappeared. Then she too entered, trying to remain a proper distance behind, then, realised Helmut was barely two metres to her front and listening. Heidi could hear the sounds of a struggle though she could not see anything.

She stood still, allowing the gap between them to widen as Helmut moved forward. Domingo bumped into her back as he entered the path. They slowly moved forward some 20-30 metres before Helmut turned a gentle curve on the path. She saw him stop.

"Nein! Mach's nicht! Nicht schiessen!" yelled Helmut. His call was immediately followed by a single shot. Then a second later, three more shots.

Heidi watched as Helmut fell backwards onto the trail in front of her.

She raised her pistol and jumped around the corner into the centre of the path. The face of the startled Libyan barely had time to register the new danger to him before she squeezed the trigger three times and centred her grouping on his chest. She knew he would be dead before he hit the ground, though she was wishing otherwise. She wanted him to die a slow and painful death.

She dropped to a crouch and edged to the right side of the path to wait for any reaction from any of the Libyan's colleagues who might be further along the path.

While she waited, she looked at Helmut. From a quick glance she could see at least two bullets had found their mark. One in the left arm and the other high in the left chest shoulder area. He was still breathing, but needed urgent attention. If she could tend to him, he might survive. But first she had to finish what had started here.

She looked back at Domingo. He had taken cover on the same side of the path as she had. She knew she had to cross the path to see around the bend. She took off the M16 and laid it down. Turning to Domingo she signed her intention. Taking a deep breath, she dived out and across the path, curling into a forward roll as she pushed into the undergrowth. Turning quickly, she arced the pistol along her line of sight down the trail.

There was no hostile reaction to her move. A few metres to her front she could see the Libyan she had shot, then just past him the body of T.A. A further 30 metres along the path was another figure sitting and looking in her direction. It was Pater. She looked past him and saw another prone figure lying face down.

As she tried to consider what had happened she noticed Pater's right hand indicating for her to come out of the brush. But his hand was also clutching a very big hunting knife.

"C'mon, I know who you are," the seated figure called.

Heidi checked, her mask was still on.

"C'mon, check my friend."

Heidi stepped on to the path, keeping her pistol pointed at Pater. Moving slowly forward she looked down at the Libyan as she passed. All three bullets had hit around his heart, but something else had caused all the blood over his face. His bloodied nose was bent horribly out of shape. A flicker of movement from his hand caught her eye. Blood was still flowing from where a whole index finger was missing from the right hand.

She jerked her head around at the sudden appearance of Domingo at her shoulder.

"Holy Mary, Mother of God," he muttered, and crossed himself.

She nodded toward Pater. Domingo trained his weapon on the seated non-hostile posture of the form, even though the right hand still clutched a knife.

Heidi looked down at the still figure of T.A. The eyelids were flickering, occasionally opening to small slits but not focussing. A bullet had furrowed deeply along the right side along the hairline and above his ear.

She moved on, stopping five metres from Pater. She saw his bloodied left arm hanging uselessly at his side then saw the deep bleeding cut to his left thigh.

"Can I trouble you for some pressure bandages? Sorry I can't ask you in German, it's not my best language."

Heidi hesitated. She did not know if Pater was bluffing about his recognition.

"It's all right. Your friend Helmut gave it away when he called out 'don't do it, don't shoot,' in German."

"O.K.," replied Heidi, "but you get rid of that knife first."

Pater obliged with a weak throw of the weapon to Heidi's feet.

She pulled off her face mask and bent over Pater.

"I'll be all right for a while. Please see to T.A. I've seen his arm moving. He's alive but hurt bad I think."

Heidi stood and looked on at the Libyan further along the path.

"Don't worry about him," said Pater, "he's dead."

Heidi cast a quick glance at the surrounding forest.

"Don't worry about their mates either, they're dead too."

Heidi felt her eyebrows lift in surprise at Pater's statement. She was wise in not underestimating this man. Then she wondered if she was making that mistake now.

"Domingo," Heidi called out. "What have you got in your medical kit?"

Heidi picked up Pater's knife and went back to where Helmut was lying. Domingo watched as she cut the clothing off Helmut and inspected his wounds. She grunted in satisfaction as she took various items from the medical kit and applied ointments and lotions before covering the wounds and binding Helmut's left arm across his chest.

Moving on to T.A., she rolled him on his side and again applied ointments directly onto the deep rut along the side of his head. Then, with unexpected gentleness, she wrapped a bandage around his head and covered that with a head stocking.

By the time she got back to Pater she could see his face was very white. He was barely able to keep his balance sitting up. The ground beneath him was covered in blood.

Pater looked up as she approached.

"Well?" he asked.

"Your friend will live. He'll have a huge headache and a lot of dizziness, but he'll get over it."

"Thanks. I guess he saved my life a few times."

"You are now a problem for me," said Heidi.

"I know. But you can't stay on Apuao with your friend wounded. There'll be too many questions. Besides if they have to operate on him he might blurt something out under sedation."

Heidi thought for a moment and knew Pater was right.

"But you're still a problem. Perhaps if I leave you to bleed to death there'll be no problem."

"Yeah. But I might just survive until the rescuers come."

"Do you want me to shoot you instead?"

"No. I want you to get me off this island with you when you leave."

"Why?"

"Too many questions for me too, too many bodies, too much publicity."

"You're not just a semi-retired ex-pat are you?"

"And you're no German tourist."

"Why should I take you with us?"

"Even as injured as I am, I'm still the only one with contacts who can keep you hidden and get you out of the country."

Heidi ran her fingers through her hair. She knew Pater was right. Helmut's wounding had changed all that. Even if he had died, the body might have been finger-printed. Any query with Interpol would reveal him as a wanted terrorist. Everything was now changed.

"Domingo. I need you and your w/t."

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

T.A. could hear voices that did not seem to make much sense. The pain in his head made him want to scream yet he could not. He thought he might be dreaming, but did dreams really have such pain. He could hear things but not see things, although at one stage he thought he saw some dirty pink running shoes. What he did hear did not make sense. The voices seemed distant and though one seemed to be Pater, the other sounded like that German woman. He could not remember her name.

Then there was silence. Silence outside of his head but not within it. He was sure he must have slept for a while, because he woke as from a sleep and was aware of the sounds around him. He could also see the bush, though it was still a blurry vision. Keeping his eyes open for more than a second or two caused too much pain.

As he tried to sit up the dizziness returned. He decided to wait a while before trying again. With his eyes closed he tried to remember where he was. Yes, some of that came back. He could remember being caged in the tennis court with other hostages. He remembered he had escaped but could not remember how. He remembered hiding from the NPA with Pater.

Yes. He had to get back to the hide-out and away from the danger of being discovered. Looking around he saw the entry barely two metres away. As he forced his body to roll onto his stomach, every part of it sent painful messages.

He pulled with his arms and pushed with his legs. As soon as he knew he was safe the effort of the crawl overcame him, and he closed his eyes.

# CHAPTER 47

## A GREEK PICK-UP

### APO EAST PASSAGE, MINDORO STRAIT, WEST OF MINDORO ISLAND.

Captain Theodopolous felt his luck had already extended beyond what he could have reasonably expected. The maritime maps he was using for the Philippines did not inspire much confidence in their accuracy. That confidence was disappearing fast with every lucky escape from another scrape of the hull over yet another uncharted reef. So far there was no critical damage.

The satellite navigation equipment was only as good as the reliability of the navigation charts he had available.

The rendezvous points and the time frame given for collecting the Libyans meant he had to use sea passage not normally used by tramp steamers. Not because he wanted to avoid the usual sea lanes. The speed of his tramp was not enough to get from one rendezvous to another for the designated pick-up time without taking shortcuts.

All the pick-ups were at night, but the moonlight probably did little to conceal their actions. But it did make sightings of the small bancas easier and he had already barely missed running over several. The human eye was still more reliable than radar under some circumstances. There were not many parts to a banca that reflected the radar's probing. The seas were thick with Filipino fishermen in assorted size bancas trying to earn a meagre living. Most, if not all kept bright lights burning, both to attract fish and to allow larger boats like his to see them more easily.

With the exception of two small groups, all the Libyans had been collected so far. There had been seven pick-up points on the first night, five so far on this second night. The next was to be the sixth and final pick-up before they could begin the home trip to Libya. This rendezvous was near Sablayan, on the west coast of Mindoro. Too close to Manila for the captain to feel comfortable.

As the tramp neared the last pick-up point, the Libyans who were already aboard, and hiding below deck, re-emerged to see their countrymen. Again they lined the handrails of the deck looking like what they were, a heavily armed and alert army, even though they were shabbily dressed. Their presence made him feel angry.

On the third pick-up that night, a helicopter had flown an intersecting course. Several of the Libyans quickly brought anti-aircraft missiles on to the deck and began preparation to fire on the helicopter.

One of the armed Libyans on the bridge saw what was happening and screamed out in Arabic. Within seconds, they all disappeared below decks.

Captain Theodopolous was relieved no-one had fired. There was no certainty of a successful hit and no way to know if the helicopter had transmitted a mayday. In his mind it was an even better result, there would be no further loss of life. The last thing any of them needed was for any attention to be attracted to the steamer.

During the day after the first night of pick-ups, a quick loading of cocoa-nut fibre was made in Cagayan de Oro. The turn-a-round was quicker than usual because the loading was made into the upper decks. The Libyans already on board were hidden on the lower deck among the sugar bails collected in Fiji. The tramp steamer's presence in the area had to be accounted for by at least one genuine port of call. It was not until the tramp had left Cagayan de Oro harbour that the Libyans returned to their quarters "tween decks".

One hundred and ten Libyans were already "tween decks". Nine others had sailed with the tramp for the whole trip. In groups of three, that same nine had taken turns watching everything happening on the bridge. The automatic weapons they all carried were too readily flashed at his crew when demanding an explanation for actions they thought unusual or different. The captain's hate was growing by the minute. He was no longer master of his own ship.

On the previous round trip he had given up considering how to get away from the Libyans and break the contract. Now there were too many of them on board. Too late he had realised that once he accepted their bidding, there was no easy way out. Any attempt to double-cross them would result in his death at least, and probably all of his crew as well. Those deaths would mean a huge loss among his greater family. Despite the quandary he was in, his brain continued storming through the idea he had. The first hardware part he had already organised in Fiji. Now he was refining a plan as each extra mile passed under the bow. He still had three weeks before they would approach the shores of Libya. He ordered his Chief Engineer to place chains and padlocks in the compartments near the water-tight doors at the engine room, under the mast house and through to the foc'sle.

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

### APUAO GRANDE

It felt like a small rough dry cloth was being applied to his face. His eyes were too heavy to open yet. The pain in his head was worse than any migraine he had ever suffered.

His hearing told him the deafening noise must be the cicadas on their pre dawn wake up call.

The wiping of his face stopped. He waited a few seconds, then, opened his eyes. He could not see anyone. He tried to sit up and immediately the pain in his head increased. His mouth too was dry and he needed to find Pater's water filled condoms for a drink.

He forced his body to beat the pain as he slowly sat up. He soon saw the leaf pile hiding the water and carefully untied the top of a bulbous stretched condom. The water stung his lips which, he realised, were swollen, but it felt good. He knew enough not to gulp it, but within seconds felt his stomach react violently. He rolled onto his hands and knees and began to dry retch. When he opened his eyes he saw the little wire haired terrier lying on its side, dark brown eyes staring at him.

"Ah, Fred my friend."

The dog barely reacted. Its head moved slightly and the tail gave a little twitch. Then T.A. saw the long open cut on Fred's side which had exposed his rib cage.

"Oh shit Fred, what have they done to you?"

T.A. crawled closer to Fred and let some drips of water fall from the condom onto Fred's tongue. Fred reacted positively pushing his tongue further out of his mouth and tried to crawl closer to T.A.

"You don't look too well my little fellow, what am I gonna do?"

T.A. poured a few more drops onto Fred's tongue before he tried again to reduce his own thirst. He sat back to think about his situation. He could remember a fight on the path but could not remember the details. He could remember seeing pink running shoes and hearing Pater's voice. But that was all quite a bit after sunrise. Now it was just starting to get light again, with the cicadas still into their crescendo. He realised he must have slept for nearly twenty-four hours.

He felt his head and then felt the bandages wrapped around his head. He tried to think who had done that. It must have been Pater, but where was he? He saw the .22 pistol and knew Pater would have taken that with him if he had gone reconnoitring. Had something gone wrong in the fight?

As he tried to recall details his head hurt more.

He remembered the well-stocked medicine box at the Brooke house and wondered if he could sneak back there for some supplies. Perhaps he should carry Fred and try and stitch his side and apply some anti-biotic creams.

It was barely daylight; just enough to see his way and still avoid any NPA groups as long as he kept off the main paths. A lot could have happened while he had slept for about a day.

He carefully tucked a sheet around an uncomplaining Fred so it would be easier to carry him, and reduce pain from branches he would have to push past on the way.

He looked up and down the path outside the hideout. It was totally clear. He was sure he could find his way through the rain forest to the Brooke house by the most direct route. It was only a few metres between the back door and the forest edge so he would be unlucky to be seen, especially this early.

Once he had crossed the main path he began to think about Malou. He hoped she was safe of course, but the combination of his own doubts and the observations of Pater and a few others had crystallised his thoughts. When they all got out of this situation he would face her with his decision. It would not and could not work between them.

He wondered what her reaction would be. Would she put on a silent routine or would she display an outburst of temper. He had seen both sides. Either way he felt resolute in his decision and perhaps even she too had realised it would not work. If so that would make it easy.

The strain of carrying Fred was greater than he anticipated. He was feeling even weaker and dizzier, stopping more and more often for rest. His footfalls were not as sure as he would normally expect of himself and he had nearly fallen several times. He had to get something to bind Fred's side. The open wound would attract all sorts of infection in the tropics and Fred would certainly die.

T.A. was too dizzy to be pleased or surprised at his jungle navigation. He was directly behind the Brooke house. He paused to verify there was nothing suspicious to compromise his presence or that anyone nearby might see them enter. He knew he could not dawdle. The tiredness and dizziness made him concerned that he might pass out before he could reach the door or before he treated Fred.

He tried to run from the forest to the back door but the jarring caused him to feel nauseous. By the time he reached the door he was breathing heavily. He entered quietly. His heavy breathing confused him as it sounded as though it was echoing in his head. He knew he had to sit down or lie down to rest for a while before he passed out.

"Yes," he muttered as he made his way through the lounge to the main bedroom. Greater nausea swept over him and he barely managed to retain his feet.

"Yes, yes, yes," replied the little echo in his head.

As he got closer to the doorway of the bedroom, the yes's got louder as he felt dizzier.

"Oh my God, yes," screamed the voice.

T.A.'s dizzy mind was confused. The echo was sounding like Malou.

He stopped at the bedroom door. The half-closed jalousie still let in enough light for him to see Malou lying naked on the bed with the Filipino he knew as Boy on top of her.

"God, yes," she screamed again.

T.A. knew he had been in this situation before.

Malou saw him through half open eyes which then opened wide as she let out a scream. The pain shot through T.A's head as if he had been hit again. The dizziness and exhaustion were too much. He felt himself dropping Fred and losing his balance. Slipping into unconsciousness he fell to the floor.

# CHAPTER 48

## HOW SWEET IT IS

### MT. KANLAON, NEGROS

Radio stations had begun broadcasting interviews with former hostages. Suraido and Warvic listened as each hostage or radio announcer gave personal versions of the events and who they thought was responsible.

Suraido had mixed feelings about the events. It was not as Warvic had promised when she enlisted the aid of the Muslims. Nevertheless, two positive things had come out of it. The Muslims had been united, even if only for this event. If it could happen once it could happen again. Secondly, events had forced a major withdrawal of the AFP from the Muslim areas. That gave them a real chance of later action. The AFP had lost considerable equipment and therefore it would be unlikely they would return to Muslim areas quickly. The Muslims had remained peaceful in this uprising.

His main worry was how to explain the change of plans to his Muslim allies. He had sold the plan as a genuine widespread uprising, not a temporary display of control, then withdrawal. He was supposed to be their ears and eyes. Yet he had blindly let Warvic lead him into a false plan. The real plan was a good plan, but it still did not deliver what Warvic had originally led him and his Muslim brothers to believe.

The extent of the NPA's success had made him realise that the Muslims would probably need NPA help in the future if ever they were to attain their dream of independence. Perhaps if they did take action against the central government later, the NPA might provide diversionary actions to keep the AFP occupied and away from Muslim territory. That, he decided, would be the way he would have to sell the change of plans to his Muslim allies.

Warvic though, content with what she had heard, was still concerned with the silence from several of the minor resorts. There had been some messages relayed from other places about missing equipment at the outset and some incidents of trouble caused by some Libyan helpers. The operation could not yet be declared successful.

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

### MANILA

On the morning of the third day, the Libyan Ambassador was summoned to Malacanang. The Philippine President, together with his advisers and generals had made it clear, in no uncertain terms, that any uprising of the Muslims during the current period of crisis would be put down without mercy. He warned that any struggle within the Philippines was an internal problem and no external interference would be tolerated. Any Philippine Muslim uprising would result in arrest of Muslim religious leaders, confiscation of Muslim properties, outlawing the Muslim religion, prohibiting congregation of more than ten people, and the destruction of all mosques. The government was adamant that any such uprising would be deemed to be with the encouragement of the Libyan Government. Sufficient evidence could be provided to show the outside world that a direct Libyan involvement had taken place. Such an event enabled his Government to activate various military treaty obligations with the USA and other treaty signing nations under SEATO.

But the President also tried to be conciliatory, offering an olive branch. He thanked the Libyan Embassy for currently not actively encouraging any dissidents in Mindanao, and congratulated them for keeping the Muslim followers from taking advantage of the situation.

In rebuttal of the President's allegation, the Ambassador was quick to point out that it was only the Muslim areas that had remained loyal to the Central Government. There were no Muslim uprisings, and he denied any personal knowledge of the source of the problems. He also denied his Embassy had any ability to control the Muslim population of the south. To show some goodwill in return, he offered to request religious leaders in Libya to offer prayers and suggestions to religious leaders in Mindanao, and for them to continue showing restraint.

The Libyan Ambassador was not lying about his lack of personal knowledge about the uprising. However, he knew who of his staff would. In his position, it sometimes paid to be ignorant of the acts of his staff. He knew which attache he would send to Zamboanga and Iligan. The message the attache would carry would be clear. "Don't rock the boat unless you're sure of success. No armed help from Libya will be provided."

After the meeting, the ambassador summoned the attache he knew would be acquainted with the situation. Although normal flights had all been suspended, the Philippines President would allow the ambassador's request for a special charter flight. Though unspoken, both parties knew the purpose of the flight would be to deliver messages. The President, though, was assuming that there would be more negatives in the message than those considered by the Libyan Ambassador.

Arrangements for the attache to fly to Zamboanga early in the afternoon were made. A chartered Lear jet, under military guard, was ready at Benigno Aquino International Airport, even though the flight was a domestic one.

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

### MANILA

Two three-man street maintenance crews had been working on footpath maintenance 50 metres each side of the gates of the Libyan Embassy. The men road their motor cycles to work each day and parked them on the footpath near the small tent under which they had been digging a hole in the footpath. One was always working under the tent while another would pile up the earth that was occasionally being removed. The third would be taking his rostered turn to relax and look at the events going on around him.

There was always heavy traffic along this road. The men wore the standard face masks used by most crews to reduce effects of exhaust pollution. In their job, lung infections were common.

They had seen the rare sight, for Manila, of a Mercedes Benz limousine emerge through the Embassy gates that morning. It had taken nearly five minutes before a gap in the traffic occurred allowing the Mercedes into the flow. It displayed the small Libyan flag proudly on the bonnet indicating the Ambassador was inside. Two hours later it returned from the opposite direction, no doubt to facilitate easy entry back into the Embassy grounds.

Both road crews had taken their extended lunch break on site. Packed lunches and water bottles were shared among each group of three. Shortly after they returned to work again, the Embassy gates opened for the third time that day. Again, the same Mercedes nosed out over the footpath for the inevitable wait for a break in the traffic. Both road crews stopped work to watch as the magnificent shining white car tried to bluff oncoming vehicles of the intention to pull into the traffic. The driver was obviously reluctant to have his prized vehicle hit by a jealous jeepney driver only too willing to damage such a vehicle.

Inside the Mercedes was the Libyan attache who was becoming impatient with the delay. He had been on the receiving end of a tirade of abuse from his ambassador, even though the ambassador knew what the attache's real function was within the embassy. He had to take what he considered was an unnecessary trip out of his air-conditioned office, back to dirty, hot and uncomfortable quarters in Zamboanga. He in turn vented his spleen on the driver's lack of courage. In response the driver pushed forward and progressed thirty metres before the inevitable stop of the traffic.

The nearest road crew watched in envy, wishing they could see more through the tinted windows. They could only see the shadowy outline of the driver and the back-seat passenger.

Four motor cyclists, with pillion passengers, had also become impatient with the slowness of the traffic and were winding their way between the narrow spaces of the traffic. They slowed as they got to the Mercedes, two motor cycles each side. Perhaps they had stopped to admire the clean white embassy car from close up.

One of the road crew could see that the pillion passengers on the near side stick what looked like fist-size lumps of chewing gum, with small pipes stuck into them, on the side and back of the Mercedes. He pointed them out to his colleagues. They laughed at the show of insolence against such affluence. All four motor cyclists then weaved around the Mercedes, mounted the footpath and headed at speed in their direction. The maintenance workers, like others on the footpath, jumped out of their way.

Seconds later, four separate and distinct explosions occurred in rapid succession. The Mercedes was visibly lifted a few feet off the ground by the force, but only slightly in comparison to the other vehicles around it which were tossed like paper models. Flames and smoke shot skyward. The road crew was thankful they had dived to avoid the cyclists as they all felt the shock waves pass over them. They looked toward the other road crew, wondering if they had mistakenly hit some unknown gas line, then noticed the flames and smoke emanating from the Mercedes. It was no longer white and shiny. In comparison to the surrounding vehicles, which were bent and twisted, many on their sides, the Mercedes still had its basic shape. The road crew was not aware of the strengthening of the body and chassis to prevent assassination attempts.

Screams of other victims in the traffic snapped them all back to their senses. They ran forward to help the injured. Unbelievably, the back door of the Mercedes swung open. The passenger stumbled out holding his head. By some miracle he had survived. Yet several vehicles in the immediate vicinity had been totally consumed by fire and destroyed, all on board dead or dying. The passenger staggered toward the footpath, trying to get to the gate of his embassy.

The distant road crew now had to dive out of the path of two further pillion-carrying motor cycles careering down the footpath. As they got level with the injured Libyan they both paused. The pillion passengers drew a pistol and emptied its magazines into the twice unlucky passenger. He was dead before the last of the bullets was fired.

For a second time the nearer road crew had to dive out of the way as the cyclists accelerated away and passed them, along the footpath, at breakneck speed.

Regathering themselves a second time, they ran forward and reached the attache's body as other members of the embassy staff and their guards rushed from the embassy gate. The road crew looked in sadness at the destruction of such a beautiful car, while the embassy staff bundled the bloody body of the attache back through the embassy gates.

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

### MT. KANLAON, NEGROS

Packing for the departure of Warvic's small group was complete. Although there was not much to carry, there were plenty of volunteers to do so. Many wanted to escort their successful leader back to the coast. Warvic wanted to be ready to board the bancas for Iligan before dark.

The radio operator was not part of her group and would retain a listening brief for the next few days. Those with transistor radios listening to radio stations were on their second and in some cases third sets of batteries.

To ensure, as best she could that the Libyans had departed, she was sending Raul by separate banca direct to Cagayan de Oro. There, he would watch the expected arrival and departure of the Greek tramp ship. Raul would not be making contact with anyone on board the tramp. His was a watching brief only. Warvic knew that if the tramp made its planned stop at Cagayan de Oro, and departed on schedule, then everything was going according to plan for the departure of the Libyans.

Warvic knew their "special" bancas returning to Mindanao could outrun any surface ship the Navy had, but they would cruise at conventional speed to avoid attracting attention from any helicopters patrolling the area.

Porters had begun to pick up the small kits of those departing when a babble of excited conversation started around one of the men still listening to the radio reports. Warvic thought she might as well hear about this final snippet of news before she departed.

"What is it?" she asked.

"Somebody was killed outside the Libyan Embassy in Manila," said the man.

Warvic's mind kicked back from its exhausted state.

"Who?" she demanded.

"Apparently it was one of the attaches."

Warvic lowered her head to try and disguise her smile.

Suraido had now approached the group.

"What's happened?" he asked.

Before Warvic could reply, someone else answered the question. Suraido interposed himself between the Warvic and the group.

Warvic raised her head to look Suraido directly in the eyes. His dark eyes looked directly back at her. She prided herself on her ability to read peoples thoughts from their eyes, but this time she could not read Suraido's eyes, or any other part of his facial expression. Despite sweating from the heat, she felt a cool shudder run down the back of her neck. She hoped Suraido had not seen her reaction to the news. She remembered she had never seen Suraido's anger and probably would not recognise any signs before he reacted. He had not achieved his standing in the Muslim resistance by playing his hand openly.

"Was it the attache you met in Iligan?" he asked in a way Warvic interpreted as cold.

She paused before responding. She was unsure whether to lie. Before her brain had fully couched a reply that was both diplomatic and believable she found she had blabbed out an answer.

"I hope so."

"But why now? Couldn't you wait?"

"The Government will be blamed as a reaction to the uprising," she lied. Then, thinking about what she had said, she realised that there was some credibility to that statement that she had not previously considered.

"Warvic, I am a Filipino before anything else. I understand your hate."

"Well. Who will know it was me?"

"I will," he replied.

Suraido's features burst into a smile, then a laugh.

"How sweet it is," he said.

# CHAPTER 49

## THE AWAKENING

### MANILA

T.A. kept his eyes closed. He knew it must be daytime as strong light penetrated the skin of his eyelids. The remnants of a headache clung behind his eyes and he was fearful if he opened them, the pain would increase.

From the feeling of softness behind his head and neck he knew there were pillows. He opened his palms and slid his hands slowly up to his chest. Those senses revealed he was between sheets.

He listened for the familiar sounds of the island, the daytime background of the cicadas. He could not hear them. He concentrated on smell to pick up the sea, instead, a very strong antiseptic smell made him screw up his nose. Perhaps Malou was cleaning the toilet or hand-basin.

He remembered about the bad dream he had been having. It must have been a dream. But how come Malou was cleaning while he had slept?

T.A. moved his hand to rub the tight feeling around his head. His arms and elbows felt sore. He felt stiffness and aching in his back. Pain protested any movement. Even though he moved his arm slowly, they lacked proper coordination and control. When his hand shakily reached the side of his head where he felt the strongest constricting feeling, it bumped into his head and a searing pain shot in a line along the side of his head. He screwed up his face then quickly stopped as the pain worsened.

With the pain causing him to breathe deeply, he allowed himself several deep breaths, and tried to think about what had happened and was happening.

It had not been a dream. He had seen Malou in bed with that Filipino resort guest. There had been fighting at the resort. He had been with Pater and he remembered he had seen pink running shoes.

Much slower this time, he felt for the answer to the restricting feeling around his head. It was bandages. Why?

He knew he was in bed, but by now all his senses told him he was not in familiar surroundings. He had to risk the pain and open his eyes.

He opened his eyes slowly. Strange floral patterns near the end of his bed made him open and close his eyes to adjust his sight in an effort to recognise them. There was no great surge of pain, but confusion at the surroundings. The floral patterns were on curtains. He moved his gaze left and right. The curtains surrounded the bed. Casting his eyes higher he noticed the curtains hung from a frame. Above that the ceiling was high and white.

Somehow it did not seem a surprise that it was probably a hospital. It was just that he could not remember getting there.

As he tried to sit up, all of his muscles and a few other areas were protesting. He was vaguely aware of the moaning sounds of protest he was making.

A face wearing a white nurse's hat and glasses appeared through a gap in the curtains.

"Oh, you're awake at last," said the face which was soon followed by a slightly plump woman dressed in her all white nurse's uniform.

She helped T.A. sit up and found extra pillows to help prop him comfortably.

"I'll tell the doctor," she said before disappearing back through the gap in the curtains.

T.A. hoped she would not rush back. He needed time to think.

The nurse was Filipina so he had to presume he was still in the Philippines. The memory of what had happened slowly came back to him over the next few minutes. His brain was clearing more with each passing minute. Presumably, if he had been hurt, they may have injected him with some sort of pain-killer while he recovered. He wondered what he might have said.

The curtains jerked back in an overt display of theatre as a Filipino in a traditional white doctor's coat stepped through followed by the nurse.

"Ah, Mr Cholmondely-Tapper, it is good to see you finally awake."

T.A. cringed at the use of his family name. "It's pronounced Chumley-Tapper. Though it doesn't look like it written down. Just call me T.A." The man he presumed to be a doctor, had pronounced it wrong as did most people including English speakers. They all seemed to prefer to pronounce it how it looked."

"All right. T.A. then. I guess you're wondering where you are and have all sorts of questions for us. Well, we've got a lot of things we will need to ask you too. Actually there are lots of people wanting to talk to you."

T.A. felt his head nod painfully in the affirmative.

He heard the doctor begin the explanation of where he was, but T.A.'s mind drifted as he began to think about what he might have to explain. He did not feel he was ready for that yet.

When the doctor had seemingly finished his explanation, T.A. realised he had not heard a thing the doctor had said.

"Well?' asked the doctor.

"Sorry," said T.A., "I seem to have missed your question."

"I was just asking if you were ready to answer some questions the army has for you."

"I don't seem to remember much. I don't even know how I got here."

"Well it seems your powers of concentration are a bit lost, temporarily I assure you, and not uncommon in this type of case."

"But what happened?"

"Ah ha, I didn't think you heard me the first time. You came out of the rain forest nearly a day and a half after the army had liberated the island. Some resort guests had hidden in the jungle and came out as soon as the NPA had left. But after a head count and a roll call, as well as yourself, there were two other guests and an ex-pat missing. Everyone thought you and the others had escaped to another island, or worse still were dead. The army found quite a few bodies and want to know about them."

'Oh hell,' thought T.A. He knew he did not want to be asked about any of them.

"Sorry, I don't know about any bodies," said T.A.

"Well perhaps you can tell us who put the dressing on your head wound. It was an excellent job they did."

"I don't know. I didn't know it had been done."

"I'm sure it'll all come back in time."

"Yeah."

"There are some letters on your table, and several people, including your embassy, telephoning."

"Yeah," T.A. repeated. He needed to think what his responses should be. He had to go over in his mind what his story should be.

"I think I need to rest again doc."

"Certainly. The nurse will just take your pulse. Then we'll leave you alone for a while to gather your thoughts. We have put some newspapers on your table so you can see what has been happening. Don't read for too long though, it might give you a headache."

"O.K."

The doctor opened the drawer of T.A.'s bedside table and extracted a large collection of different sized envelopes. "Here's some cards and letters that have been accumulating while you been here. Take your time, I'll be back later."

With that, to T.A's relief, the doctor left. The nurse, after taking T.A's pulse without comment followed soon after.

He was surprised at the number of letters as he flicked through them. Some were typed, signifying something official contained therein. He put those aside to concentrate on the hand-addressed envelopes. Some he recognised as Malou's handwriting, one other he did not.

Seeing Malou's handwriting made him feels knots in his stomach and his heart skip. He thought for a moment about just throwing them away, unread. He put them aside and examined the letter that was different. It bore a Pasay City postmark.

He opened it and unfolded the two sheets.

"Dear T.A.. It may be confusing to receive a letter such as this from a stranger. But I would ask you to read it with thoughts about where you have come from, where you have been and what you have seen."

'Shit', thought T.A., some weirdo preaching something, and he flipped to the second page to see who the writer was. It was signed "Father Thyme, (and not as in time flies like an arrow). That did not clarify anything, He decided to read on.

"Always remember to look through the bushes and not over them. Look and listen for what is not there."

"Jesus," muttered T.A. as he flicked to the last page again. 'It's Pater, Pater, like Father.' He read on.

"Remember, we cannot all be like what we seem to be and often things are best left unsaid. In life, as in death, there are many sharks that surround the island that is ourselves. Life's journeys can have us taken by those sharks."

"I would love to visit and chat with you on a personal basis, but my urgent ministries elsewhere, while overcoming certain injuries myself, will not permit that to be done at present. However I am sure that you could always hold me to a promise of a cold beer some day. Best Wishes for full recovery, Father Thyme (and not as in time flies like an arrow)."

T.A. felt the smile come to his face, even though it gave him some discomfort. Pater was alive. He sat back and thought about what was written.

It was very obtuse. Pater had not signed it with his own name yet obviously wanted T.A. to know who it was from while remaining anonymous and vague to any other possible reader.

He knew what Pater was asking of him and he knew what story needed to be told, or not told.

T.A. picked up Malou's envelopes again, they were thick. He looked at them for a few seconds. He desperately wanted to read them. There were so many things which might explain why she did what she did. He wanted her to be with him, fussing around and caring for him. Yet he also knew that if she was capable of cheating once, she would do it again.

Grasping each of the letters, he tore them in two, tore each of the halves again before looking for the bedside rubbish container and tossing the pieces into it.

He turned his attention to the pile of newspapers. T.A. was surprised at the front page reports and interviews with hostages from dozens of different resorts that had been taken over. He had not known the action was also outside of Apuao Grande. All the major resorts were down-playing the events in case it scared tourists away, and at the same time making the most of the minor events that had happened to attract free advertising.

T.A. was surprised to read that there were few casualties or injuries anywhere else. One paper reported an interview on page three with a hostage held on Apuao Grande, but he didn't recognise the name of the tourist. It was only a small section just below the report of a Greek freighter sinking en route to the Mediterranean soon after leaving Zamboanga. The report of the ship's captain Con Theodopolous suggested that a sudden cargo shift had caused the rapid and unexpected sinking. The captain and the small crew, who were all Greek, were safe.

T.A. let the newspapers slip to the floor and closed his eyes. He was not sure if he had dozed but opened his eyes at the parting of the curtains and the return of the doctor.

"Ah, you're awake then. If you're feeling up to it there is a police captain would like to ask you a few questions. They think you might be the hero that dealt with a few of the guerillas on the island."

The doctor turned without waiting for T.A's response and pulled the curtain back slightly.

A solidly built uniformed policeman entered. T.A. could not tell the difference between the police uniform and the army uniform.

"This is Captain de Ocera."

After the Captain mis-pronounced his name, and he repeated the explanation, he listened to the Captain. He explained that the army and police wanted to know about the bodies they had found and how T.A. could explain how he suffered his injuries.

To T.A. it was almost as though he was outside of himself as he told his story. He explained his escape from the tennis court, but had not seen anyone else in the rain forest either NPA or other escaped tourists. He had been moving from his place of hiding to see what the shooting was about when he had been attacked by someone wearing a mask. They had just appeared from out the jungle. He did not know how he came to suffer the grazing shot along the side of his head and had no idea who had bandaged his head.

T.A. apologised to the captain for not being able to assist and suggested his injuries were causing some partial amnesia. T.A. noticed the doctor nod his head in agreement.

The captain left. Satisfied or not, T.A. did not care, he was just pleased that the captain had not pushed him.

"Tomorrow or the next day, if you think you are fit enough to travel, we'll set you up in a first class air ticket to your home," said the doctor.

"I can't afford that," replied T.A.

"That's all being paid for by your embassy. Special medical case they said. I'll let you rest now. I'll look in again later."

"Thanks for everything doctor."

"You're welcome."

T.A. watched the doctor pass through the curtains.

It would be good to be back home, safe in his little unit again.

# **********

## 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 valuables 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; or anyone in the wrong place at the wrong time.

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

-Just Cause – Wrong Target

-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)

