by John Muir
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.
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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.
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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.
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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, Senat
or," 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.
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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.
