by John Muir
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.
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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 g
ap 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."
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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.
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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.
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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."
