Capitalizing on his momentum, Danny galloped at the man holding Helen. With a force equal to a Pacific Super Typhoon, Danny slammed the stick into the back of the man’s head. Bright red blood painted his white collar. Subdued, the man inadvertently released Helen. Danny hooked the sticks around the man’s neck and pulled him away from her.
“Helen, run!”
She sprinted into the crowd gathered around Magellan’s Cross without looking back.
Danny threw the man down on the sidewalk and hit him again, this time on his thighs and torso. Seeing that the man couldn’t move, Danny dropped the sticks and chased after Helen.
Dr. Klein turned around to assess what was going on. By the time he realized what had happened, Danny and Helen were gone.
“Get up! They’re getting away,” Dr. Klein shouted.
* * *
Helen was rounding the stall at full speed when she tripped on a crack in the concrete and fell. Luckily, Danny was closely following her. He quickly pulled her up by her armpits and helped her get up. “You okay?”
“I just banged my hip.”
A series of deafening explosions reverberated in the air. Bullets tore through the sides of the buildings, tossing concrete splinters to the ground. Dr. Klein and his two hired guns sprinted in their direction. The terrified bystanders scattered in every direction, trying to get away from the flying bullets. With most of the people in the tourist area quickly thinning out, Danny worried that Dr. Klein and his men could easily spot them. Without the benefit of blending in with the sightseers, they would be easy prey. Helen joined the crowd as it dispersed. Danny was about to follow her but lost her in the mayhem. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Helen sprinting in the harbor’s direction.
After Danny had cleared the city center where Dr. Klein was shooting at them, he searched the buildings in the vicinity for Helen but couldn’t find her. Careful not to be discovered, he squeezed his body into a nook on the side of the building and reached for his phone to call Helen. He was just dialing her number when his phone vibrated. Helen had sent him a text message. “I’m in Fort San Pedro.”
* * *
Dating back to the late 1500s, Fort San Pedro is a triangular fortress built by the Spanish as protection against any faction, foreign or domestic, that might do the conquistadores harm. Danny hurriedly passed through the front entrance, pushing through tourists taking pictures along the manicured grounds. He worried that Dr. Klein or his men might have seen either one of them enter the stone fortress. If they did, then there was no escape.
Anxious to know where Helen was hiding, he texted, “Where are you?”
His phone vibrated a few seconds later.
“I’m in one of the towers facing the street.”
* * *
Danny ran along the flagstone-covered pathway looking behind the bushes and along the walls. With all the sightseers roaming the grounds, it was difficult to find her. He was about to head toward the other end of the fortress when he heard Helen calling him.
“Danny!”
She ran to his arms and hugged him tight.
“I’m glad that you’re okay,” Danny said.
“How can we get back to the airport?”
“We can’t go back that way,” Danny said, pointing at the street below them. “Dr. Klein might be waiting for us.”
“We need to get out of here. I think we can only exit through the main entrance.”
Danny shifted his eyes to the ships and ferries that were passing by and said, “I think there is a way back to the airport without being recognized.”
Careful not to be seen by Dr. Klein and his thugs, they quickly exited the stone fortress and pretended to be part of the Korean tourists anxious to get back onto their tour bus. Confident that the coast was clear, Danny and Helen sprinted along the shoreline and prayed that a ferry service was operating on time to get them safely to the island of Mactan where the airport was located.
* * *
Helen was relieved when she saw that the ferry headed for the island was still moored on the dock. She headed straight to the ticket booth and purchased their fares. Although the dock area was crowded with passengers waiting for their turn to get on the ferry, the boarding process ran smoothly. They walked down the ramp and stepped onto the boat. As soon as the last rope was disconnected from the pier, the ferry pulled away.
Helen leaned on his shoulder as tears began to roll down her cheeks. “We almost got captured.”
He pulled her closer and hugged her tight to comfort her. Though Danny was glad that they had escaped a potential disaster, he knew that the odds were against them and it would only be a matter of time before Dr. Klein would catch up to them. Realizing that they weren’t out of the woods yet, Danny called the pilot and said, “Please get the plane ready. We need to fly immediately.”
* * *
The majestic Mayon volcano came into view as the plane headed toward Manila over the southern part of the main island of Luzon. The massive mountain towering over the Bicol region was still active—and could erupt at any time. Looking out the window, Danny tried to make out the shape of a bell tower—the famous Cagsawa Ruins sticking out of the ground. The ruins were from an old church that was buried in lahar along with the rest of the town when the volcano erupted in the early 1800s. Danny worried that his chances of getting Blake back were sinking deeper into the abyss.
As the airplane flew further over Luzon, Danny saw patches of wasteland in the forest. The devastation was due to the kaingin system of farming—a slash-and-burn method that some of the farmers have been implementing throughout the years to clear out the thick vegetation for cultivation. With no tree roots to hold the topsoil intact, land erosion becomes inevitable when the heavy rain comes down each year.
He felt the airplane’s nose dip. Danny looked out the window and saw the Taal Volcano’s cratered tip protruding through Taal Lake. Somewhere in the far distance lay Manila, where they started their journey to make contact with Commander Berto. And now that journey was most likely to end as soon as they landed. With all possible avenues exhausted to get Blake back, and with Dr. Klein’s relentless pursuit of the Cube, the only feasible plan was to notify the authorities of all that had happened and to ask for their help to rescue Blake. Danny knew he had to talk to Melchor to help the authorities negotiate with Kulog ng Timog now that the Cube had become a condition of Blake’s release. He and Helen had tried their best but had been stopped or double-crossed at every turn. It was time to let the negotiators take charge and let fate decide the outcome.
As the airplane descended over Metro Manila and the pilot prepared to land, Danny looked down at the metropolis. The cityscape was inhabited by almost 12 million souls crammed into fashionable areas such as Makati, Las Piñas (famous for its bamboo organ), Parañaque, Navotas, Pateros (known for its duck eggs called balut), Pasay, Taguig, Muntinlupa (renowned for its overcrowded prison), Marikina (popular for its selection of women’s shoes), and Mandaluyong.
* * *
The smell of disinfectant was overwhelming as Danny and Helen walked into the hospital. Relatives of confined patients were sitting along the hallway with worried looks on their faces. They entered a large room at the end of the hall where hospital beds were arranged side-by-side, giving no privacy to the patients. A nurse with a white cap pinned to her hair greeted them with a cordial smile.
“We’re looking for Melchor Rodriguez,” Danny said.
“There must be ten people by that name in this room alone. Check in at the registration desk, maybe someone might know,” the nurse said, picking up a medical chart from the desk.
Melchor’s private room was closed when they arrived. Danny knocked on the door and a female voice answered, asking them to wait as she finished changing his bandage.
A television game show blasting from a patient’s room across the hallway caught his attention. The host in a multicolored suit was waving forty thousand pesos in the contestant’s face—a woman in fad
ed jeans and a pink t-shirt. The host asked her if she wanted to take the money and call it a day or pick the bag with a prize that could either be a brand new car or a toothpick. Her face contorted in confusion as she decided what to do. She turned to the crowd for answers but the frenzied shouting was just as confusing. Half of them were shouting to take the money and go home while the other half were shouting to pick the bag. She refused the money and pointed to the bag. The game show host added another twenty thousand pesos. She would have sixty thousand pesos if she decided to walk away with what equaled six month’s salary for most workers. The host begged her to take the money but she was determined to win the mystery prize in the bag.
Danny compared her dilemma with how he should proceed with rescuing Blake. He thought of the contestant who was torn between walking away with the cash and her desire to push her luck and see what was in the bag. Maybe notifying the authorities would be good, but then again pressing on to find a way to get in contact with Kulog ng Timog would be better.
When Danny and Helen walked in, they were relieved to see Melchor sitting up on his hospital bed with a smile on his face. A flower arrangement sat on the bedside table, adding color and liveliness to the stark-white hospital room, next to mandarin oranges and ensaymada—a soft, buttered brioche sprinkled with sugar and shredded cheese.
“Danny, I’m glad you made it okay. I was so worried,” Melchor said.
“When are you leaving this place?” Helen asked.
“The doctor is keeping me for at least another day for observation. But if you ask me, I’m ready to get out of here.”
“How did you know that meeting with the guide was a trap?” Danny asked.
“I mistakenly gave you a number that was given to me by one of the military officials who interviewed me after I was taken off the Desert Sea. I was checking all my incoming messages when I woke up and noticed that the number wasn’t the same as the one Commander Berto had given me,” Melchor said. “I began to suspect the worst and so texted you right away.”
“Great,” Helen said. “Now, Dr. Klein knows our every move.”
“Do you have any idea where Blake is?” Danny asked.
“The country has more than 7,100 islands and Blake could be hidden on any one of them. There are close to a hundred million people in the Philippines. I think it would be impossible to find him. It’s time to let the government officials handle the rest. I really don’t know what to do next.”
“Can’t you text the go-between?” Danny asked, frustration building in his voice.
“I’m afraid that even the go-between’s phone number is compromised and that you two would end up dead the next time you run into Dr. Klein and his men. I think we’re out of options and it would be best if we stand on the sidelines and watch the events play out. But first things first…we need to get rid of your phones. I’m pretty sure someone is monitoring you every time you make a phone call or send a text, tracking your every move.”
Melchor opened the drawer in his bedside table and pulled out two new cellphones.
“I had one of my assistants get new phones. These are clean. I already preprogrammed my number on the phones so we can send text messages freely. Can I have your old ones?”
Danny and Helen gave Melchor their phones. With a pair of tiny screwdrivers, Melchor opened the backs of the phones and took the batteries out.
“There you go,” Melchor said. “You two are officially off the grid.”
“Thank you,” Helen said.
“Is there anyone you can think of we can trust? Certainly, only a small percentage of the military is corrupt. Not all of them can be easily bribed?”
“I’ll see what I can do. But now, the Cube,” Melchor said, looking at the rollaway luggage by Danny’s feet. “Someone might rob you at gunpoint thinking there’s something valuable in it. Deposit it in a safety deposit box for safekeeping while we figure out our next move.”
“Can you recommend a reputable place?” Helen asked.
“My driver will take you to a bank in Makati.”
* * *
Makati was unique compared to the other neighborhoods in Metro Manila. The streets were clean, lined with palm trees. Tall buildings rose on every block. Streets lights operated in synchronous timing, orchestrating the traffic flow. The drivers stopped at the red light and only proceeded when it turned green. Except for the occasional Jeepney, the city was practically a miniature America.
Two bank security guards armed with 12-gauge, pump-action shotguns opened the door when Danny and Helen walked up to the entrance.
A slightly overweight man in a white shirt and a red tie approached them.
“I am the bank’s manager. I hear you are interested in renting a safety deposit box.”
“I need the largest box available,” Helen said.
“How big is the item you need to store?” the manager asked.
Danny pointed to the rollaway next to him. “We need to store the items inside for safekeeping. Less than a week.”
After filling out the necessary forms and paying the required fees, the manager led them to the vault where rows of shiny deposit boxes were tightly sealed. Danny inspected the two empty boxes on the table.
“You may deposit your items in the boxes and then put the box in the appropriate slot. Call me when you’re done so we can lock them together,” the bank manager instructed.
After the bank manager left, Danny unzipped the rollaway luggage and carefully arranged the vacuum-sealed packages of Rx-18 compound into the two safety deposit boxes. Helen closed the flat, stainless steel doors and locked them.
“We’re done!” Helen said.
“Might as well withdraw some cash. We will need money to get around.”
“What’s next?”
“I really don’t know.”
“Can you take me to a Catholic church while we’re waiting for Melchor to call us?” Helen asked, reaching for Danny’s hand. “I need to pray.”
* * *
They entered Intramuros, which simply meant “within the walls.” Its high walls measured approximately four medium-sized men standing on top of each other in height, about one and a half fathoms in thickness, and stretched three miles around. The bastion was built by the Spanish to ward off foreign invaders and to separate themselves from any unrest outside the city. With the Pasig River roping around its outskirts, the fortress was destroyed in World War II by the American forces while taking the city back from the Japanese Imperial Army.
Inside the walled city was San Agustin Church, the oldest stone church built by the Augustinian Friars in the early 1600s. Danny and Helen were walking up the church entrance when a girl in a dirty dress with innocent-looking eyes selling stringed sampaguita (jasmine flowers) came up to Helen.
Helen reached in her pocket and handed the girl a hundred-peso bill. The girl smiled and in exchange gave Helen two dozen sampaguitas.
“Salamat po,” the girl said with a wide smile on her face.
“She said ‘thank you,’” Danny translated to Helen.
The church’s interior was spacious. He marveled at the low-relief artwork on the high ceiling of ovals and squares and the massive chandeliers hanging above. The sight of Jesus with his outstretched hands and crown of thorns being nailed to the cross at the altar was humbling. The pulpit to his right hung like a capsule with its ornate design, where priests of the past had preached the day’s teachings in Latin, which, more than likely, none of the worshippers understood.
Danny and Helen sat in one of the dark brown pews and faced the massive altar while thoughts of Blake’s suffering in the hands of Commander Berto worried them. Helen knelt on the kneeling board, clasping her hands and bowing down. Danny silently sat next to her with eyes closed, thinking about the massive roadblock in front of them with no idea on how to proceed. He wished that he had never invented the Cube so that Blake would never have been kidnapped. Instead of making progress that would lead to Blake’s rescue, their efforts t
o reach out to him had backfired, and their situation was worse than when they started more than a week ago.
Though Danny was baptized as a Catholic in his childhood, he rarely went to church. Yet now, here in this sacred place, he bowed his head and asked for forgiveness for not coming to church as often as he should. He prayed and asked the Almighty to help locate Blake and bring him back to safety and promised that in exchange for his friend’s safe return, he’d dedicate his time and knowledge of the ocean to help stop the depletion of fisheries around the word.
* * *
The driver dropped them off at the Bay Palms Hotel’s front entrance. They entered not knowing how many nights they would be spending in their room while they waited for the painstakingly slow process of hostage negotiation.
The hundred-year-old hotel glistened in the hot Manila afternoon with its dramatic white walls and royal blue roofs. Danny approached the front desk. The decorations of light varnished walls and polished brass handlebars seemed to be a remnant of the colonial era. For a brief moment, he felt transported back to the American and Japanese colonial days when Filipinos were treated like second-class citizens in their own country.
“We have a reservation under Melchor Rodriguez,” Danny said.
Somewhere in the Shallow Sea: A Novel of Suspense Page 11
