The Trust Of The People
Page 14
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Sea-sickness was certainly not the two men’s prime concern, and the sea swell for them was far less than that affecting the Anaconda. Thirty-five kilometres, at night, past Chinese and Filipino patrols – father and son had already done the hard part, yet both of them were now starting to have second thoughts, neither voicing their fears, worried in case the other did actually feel the same.
Ram knew it was entirely his decision whether to continue or not, and while his son might argue and sulk, Roberto wouldn’t ever disobey. That almost made it harder, Ram wanting to do what was right for his son, wanting to give him a better start in life than he had ever had. Five thousand U.S. dollars they’d been promised – more than two years’ wages for just one day’s effort and Ram would have been stupid to have turned it down.
Their new satellite phone had been the down-payment, it making night-time navigation relatively simple, and their utilitarian pump-boat had proved ideal for the task, the recycled engine powerful enough without being too noisy. Ram cared little for politics; that was until it affected his living as a fisherman. Sixteen year-old Roberto was definitely the more politically informed of the two, just about understanding the complex feud that so upset his father.
China’s territorial claim over the thousands of islands and reefs of the South China Sea was based on an unclear history and ancient maps. Vast oil, gas and mineral resources were the ultimate reward, two Chinese drilling rigs already doing exploratory testing prior to something more permanent. China’s neighbours were equally determined to grab their own share of any future wealth. Brunei, Indonesia, Malaysia, the Philippines, Taiwan, Vietnam – all of them disputed each other’s and China’s claims, with small islands and barely visible reefs argued over and then occupied.
Father and son lived on one of the largest of the Spratly Islands. Thitu most people called it, although to Ram it was always Pagasa – ‘Hope’. Ram had taken his family there in 2002, one of a hundred civilians whose living costs were still being subsidised by the Philippine government. The island was also home to a similar number of Philippine marines, Manila keen to make Thitu into an effective military base but not yet prepared to spend the millions of dollars actually required.
Five of the seven rival countries now had a permanent presence somewhere within the Spratly group, varying from a small island to a half-submerged rock, each government fearful of letting someone else set foot upon what they vehemently argued was rightfully theirs. China regarded the vast area as a core interest comparable to Tibet or Taiwan, and with a third of the world's shipping traversing through its waters, the United States automatically became yet another important player.
It was no environment to bring up a family, Ram fearful every time he saw a Chinese aircraft or boat, their patrols becoming more frequent, their arrogance more insulting. Which made what he was about to do seem far more than just an act of betrayal, despite the promise that it was in the Philippines’ best interests. He and Roberto had argued about it too much already, his son convinced it was the right thing to do, Ram terrified should their secret ever be revealed.
Abruptly Roberto raised his arm and pointed ahead, Ram staring through the moonlit night to try and pick out the coral bank that was their destination. The sound of the breakers was a better guide, a thin ridge of sand now visible. Lankiam Cay was its official title, a rocky outcrop battered by wind and waves, of no use to anyone except as a territorial marker.
It took another hour before their task was done, the photographs uploaded via the satellite phone as instructed. The sky was starting to lighten as they left, the makeshift structure with its large Chinese flag rather more impressive than Ram had anticipated.