by John Muir
CHAPTER 39
LET SLEEPING DOGS LIE
Pater, Henry and Rangi put their masks, snorkels and fins under a large beached log. Keeping their water-logged rubber diving boots on as footwear for both silent movement and protection against the stony beach, they moved above the high water mark and off the beach.
The nearest barrio dogs immediately began their barking. The trio used the waist high undergrowth as cover to avoid any human eyes that might be looking out to see the cause of this disturbance.
Pater pulled a sealed bag from his waist band with his left hand, then drew his diving knife from the sheath on the outside of his right leg. Using the sharp edge, he sliced through one side of the covering of the eight sealed plastic bags he had wrapped around the package. He put his hand in and passed some of the bite size pieces of meat to Henry and Rangi.
Pater was hoping that there was no leakage of blood through the packaged meat. It should have been prevented by the additional coverings he had made. These were, after all, shark infested waters. As they might have to return to the banca, he hoped that sharks had not been attracted by any blood in the water. The trio would thoroughly wash their hands, as they had done the previous time, before returning to the sea.
The dogs in the adjacent streets had now taken up the call and the source of the original intrusion was now well and truly lost to anyone looking out their window.
Henry and Rangi tossed meat in the direction of the dogs they could see. Those dogs greedily scoffed down the unexpected treat once again, and ceased their barking while they waited in hope for more. At least they were silent for now.
The trio sat silently in the long grass and watched the dogs settle. Each moved away to its favourite resting place and sat down. Within minutes the dogs had begun to lower their heads as they felt the gentle warmth of sleep begin to call. Their chins were soon flat on the ground. The smaller dogs, needing less of the sleeping potion, were quickest to succumb.
Barking from the dogs in the neighbouring streets soon ceased.
Pater, Henry and Rangi waited for a few minutes before moving slowly in a crouch through the undergrowth. They were soon in position in the empty section opposite the house they had visited the previous night where the young girl Siti and her sister lived.
The light was on in what they now knew was the lounge/dining/kitchen area. They could not hear any sound. The trio had made a visual check of the area as they settled in. There was nothing out of place and nothing that aroused any suspicion. After allowing a few more minutes to make sure all the nearby dogs were asleep, they would do a proper reconnaissance of the nearby surroundings and the back and sides of the house. Pater checked his watch. It was almost 10:00 p.m.
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T.A. could not sleep. He wanted to, but the combination of still aching bruises, sore muscles, and thoughts of a visit from Siti kept him awake. The occasional barking frenzies from the apparently owner-less dogs happened so often, for so many different reasons, that few people took any notice.
The voices in the next room were steady in their conversation but he had long given up trying to understand what they were saying. He simply did not know the language.
Marivic came into his mind. He compared her to Siti. Though Marivic was beautiful, she had been polluted and poisoned by the society in which she lived. The dividing line between truthful honest passions and emotions, and contrived actions, had been crossed too many times and were confused. The passions of Siti were still honest and natural. T.A. cursed that she was far too young.
Nilo came into his mind. Then, he thought that Nilo and Marivic would probably make a good couple. Both of them understood where they had come from and the reasons why they were at a particular point in their lives.
T.A. thoughts drifted to his homeland, and he wondered why he had ever left it. Life had certainly been quieter there. His travels and experiences since leaving had certainly taught him much. Many of the things he had learnt before his overseas adventures were irrelevant and unimportant. Newer and real life experiences had been showing him how different cultures dealt with and solved problems, some just in order to survive. How had he been so ignorant of those things before? Perhaps this added knowledge would really only make him discontent if he ever chose to return to New Zealand. His added knowledge was only extra grist for the mill of an over dinner conversation.
Then he began to wonder who was it who would be singing Maori songs outside his window a few days ago? Was it only a few days? It seemed longer somehow. Perhaps he had only imagined it all. Did any of it matter anyway? He did not even know why he was being held a prisoner like this.
T.A., until his shift, had previously managed to think positively, and that he would get out of this. But now, he could not shake the feeling that his situation was hopeless. Deep depression had hit him. He felt his body begin jerking. He knew he was sobbing.
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Pater, Henry and Rangi had barely completed their reconnaissance and moved back into position opposite the house when a taxi arrived about 10:15 p.m. A Filipino in his late 30's or early 40's emerged carrying a very small bag and ran quickly into the house.
The taxi reversed backwards and into the cross street, then moving forward, pulled away. The trio in hiding clearly heard a yell of delight from the driver as he pulled away. They wondered what had prompted that reaction from the driver. The taxi swerved to avoid a sleeping dog that had chosen the right hand side of the road as its bed. The taxi soon reached the main road and was gone. Few of the dogs even raised a head in interest, certainly none barked.
The trio watched, waited and listened. Pater wondered who this unexpected intruder was. Though, it had to be someone who was used to moving freely into the house without invitation. A relation? Maybe even the Father. At his last thought, Pater began to worry. The money he had given to the reporter, Ruben Consuelo, was supposed to be given to the kidnappers in the hope it would delay any early return to Linamon.
He wondered whether the money had been delivered. Then his mind considered the possibility that maybe he had got it all wrong and he was on a wild goose chase. No. The photo he had seen earlier was definitely of T.A.
The voices inside started to get louder. The man was obviously angry. His voice was loudest. Pater could hear Siti's voice, in dissent, though he did not know what it was about.
The man began screaming what were obvious obscenities and Pater heard slapping and then punches with bodies being thrown into walls. Both girls had begun screaming and crying.
Pater was tempted to charge in and smash the face of the intruder to a pulp for hitting the girls. Self discipline restrained him. He was here with a specific job to do. Gallant as his wishes might be, he knew emotion based action to protect the girls would probably jeopardise the whole mission.
He looked at Henry and Rangi. Their looks at him suggested that they wanted him to take action. He nodded in the negative to both of them.
The man walked out of the house, carrying a plate and the same small bag he had entered with. He stopped and threw the plate into the ground where it shattered. Then he turned left, walked to the crossroads and turned right.
Pater turned to Rangi and nodded. Rangi moved onto the roads verge and began to follow discreetly behind the bad tempered visitor.
Pater and Henry settled down to wait and hope that Siti would still emerge for their 11:00 p.m. meeting. It was still only 10:40 P.M.
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Salim Hassan felt guilty about slapping and punching his daughters. He knew he exacerbated the situation by pushing them away so violently. He remembered it had been his violence that had been, at least partly responsible, for his wife giving up hope.
But the reason for it all was Siti's preposterous idea that he had kidnapped the wrong man. It was a totally stupid suggestion. He could not think of why she would create such lies. And to suggest that his cousin Omar was the one who found out was an even worse lie. If Omar had found out, he would have told someone else
, surely.
But now Omar was dead. Not just Omar, but his oldest son. Killed by the Catholic Manila Air Force. Why? Omar was not just his cousin, but also his best friend.
He knew he should not ask why. After all it must have been written in the book of life for it to have happened. Even so, he had to wonder why it had been written that way.
The dogs in the side street had started to bark at his approach. The chorus soon joined by those in the neighbouring streets. It was not unexpected. He was not a daily visitor to his brother's house, and the dogs in this area did not know him as well as the dogs around his house. They would stop quickly as they usually did when he did pass.
As he neared his brother’s home the dogs behind him began a more urgent agitated barking. He stopped and looked around. He could not see any reason for the increased commotion. Then he noticed two of the dogs appeared to be fighting over some small scrap of food on the road. He continued the last few metres to the doorway of his younger brother's single story concrete block home. After knocking and waiting for a few moments, he was ushered in by his sister-in-law.
Though his brother was closer kin than Omar, the atmosphere between his brother and his family was more formal. It was something that he had always felt uncomfortable with, and in many ways was saddened by it. At least in part he blamed his sister-in-law. She had more expectations and ambitions for her husband than his wife had for him. Therefore his sister-in-law treated him as being socially inferior, and of a lower social status. He did not like it, merely accepted it.
After the formal greetings were completed he had been offered and consumed a small plate of food at the table. He opened the small mock-leather bag and pulled out a handful of notes which he spread on the table. Feeling quite smug at seeing his sister-in-law's reactions to the money, he drew another handful out, then, further handfuls until the bag was empty. He had spread close to P300,000 on the table. He would not tell them he had already put aside P300,000 for himself.
After the initial excitement had waned, he was offered a coffee. He decided his facing the Japanese could wait until he had consumed his coffee.
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Pater saw the figure wearing a malong appear at the window just before 11:00 p.m. She was moving her head slowly backwards and forwards as though looking for something in the darkness. He wondered how she could expect to see anyone unless they were standing on the road outside.
The moon was only a little more than a half moon at the moment, though its effect was fairly strong it was still too low in its heavenly orbit. It would be an hour or two before its effect would be maximised. She was obviously looking for him.
Pater was a little concerned that Rangi had not yet returned and wondered at the cause of his delay. As if in answer to his question he heard a rustle in the undergrowth behind him and when he turned, Rangi was there. He had returned from a different direction from the way he had left.
"I followed the man to a house about 150 metres from here. Its single story and there are a few other people in there, though I couldn't figure out how many."
"Any sign of T.A.?" asked Pater.
"Nothing obvious. Except for the room the people are in, all the other rooms are dark. I expect T.A. is in one of those."
The reunited trio all looked up as the malong covered figure emerged from the door they had been watching. She was holding a small pot. The figure looked up and down the road. Pater signalled for his companions to stay.
The diminutive figure, wearing her malong, saw him as he stood up. She jerked with a little surprise. Pater stepped the couple of paces he needed to get out of the undergrowth and moved onto the road.
"You must follow me a long way behind," said Siti. I will take this pot of food to my uncle's house where T.A. is. I am scared because my Father came home before. He will hurt T.A."
"Can you draw a quick plan in the dirt of the inside of your uncle's house?" asked Pater.
She crouched, and scratched the floor plan of the seemingly square shaped house in the dust of the road verge.
Pater asked her to identify each of the rooms and which room T.A. was in. There were only three rooms the way she put it. As she pointed to each. "Eating, sleeping, T.A. sleeping."
"When you come out of your uncle's house, can you stop at the front and show us with your fingers how many people are in the house? Don't count T.A."
She nodded without comment, then stood up and moved off.
Pater watched her lead off, then followed about 40 metres behind. He knew that Rangi and Henry would follow about the same distance behind him.
The dogs did not begin barking this time. They were sleeping after the unexpected meal from the stranger that had passed earlier.
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Nilo started the jeepney, and began to move off. He decided he would now wait about 200 metres outside the barrio until he got Pater's signal.
Once again, the same as when he had moved from his three kilometre stop to his one kilometre stop, the taxi 50 metres behind him moved at the same time. And once again Nilo had not noticed the existence of the tailing taxi.
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Pater watched the young girl knock, and enter her uncle's house. Pater positioned himself in the shadows of the house opposite that had no windows on that side of the house. Henry and Rangi soon joined him.
Five minutes later, Siti emerged from the house without the pot, glanced around for some sign of where T.A.'s saviours were. She held up six fingers and swung around in a semi circle continuing to hold up her hands. She could not see where Pater was. Failing to get a response she began the return to her home.
According to Siti, T.A. was held in the front bedroom nearest the road at the left front of the house. It crossed Pater's mind that they might be able to sneak in through the ground floor window. If the kidnappers were confident enough to have T.A. on the ground floor he must be well secured. But was it by rope or padlock and chain? The shutters were closed. He wondered if they would squeak if they were 'sliders'. If they were hinged? Too many questions.
He turned to his companions and whispered.
"Either of you experienced with padlocks?"
Henry nodded in the negative. Rangi grinned.
"Are you?" asked Pater.
"In my late teens we had to unlock a few gates to truck out some nearly ripe fruit before the owners left it too long," Rangi replied.
Pater grinned. "Never caught?"
"Nah. Mum used to bottle the plums, make marmalade out of the oranges and grapefruit, then, sell them back to the owners wife. The owner was always happy because Mum's jams were better than his Missus made. He was always just pissed that the police could never catch the thieves."
"Can you still do it with the padlocks?"
"Of course. Who do you think gets the supplies out of base stores without a requisition? So whatever they've got here will be easy."
"O.K., we'll check the window option."
Henry kept watch while Pater and Rangi checked the window.
"Sliders," said Pater.
He inserted the knife into the narrow gap and began to slowly prise them apart. The shutters had only moved a hand's width when they jammed.
Rangi gently pushed Pater's arm away and with a handful of the meat he had not used for the dogs, squeezed the blood into the groove.
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T.A. was not sure what disturbed him. Maybe he had dozed, he was not sure. He looked toward the door, hoping to see the shadowy figure of Siti entering. There was no movement at the door. He could still hear the voices on the other side.
A muffled sound from the monsoon shutters caught his attention and he looked to see them slowly sliding back. There was no face visible even though there were fingers on each side of the shutter pulling it back.
When the shutters had been pulled back their full width, he expected a figure to start crawling in. Instead, nothing happened.
He just stared at the square in the wall that the subdued moonli
ght shone through. The roof of the house opposite was visible, coconut and banana trees around the roof, nothing else. He squeezed his eyes tightly shut a few times to try and give himself a mental check if he was dreaming or hallucinating. Maybe he had fallen asleep and someone had come in and opened the shutters while he was asleep. That had to be it.
He heard a quiet voice coming to him from outside the window, but did not understand the words. Then a few seconds later the same words were repeated again in the same quiet voice. He heard it, simply did not believe it. Then a third time.
"T.A., its Pater here, grunt if you understand."
T.A. grunted, louder than he meant to.
The upper body of two figures quickly blocked his view of the scene opposite, and the beams of two small flashlights were shone directly into his face.
A voice behind one of the beams spoke quietly, "We've come to get you out. One quiet grunt for yes, two for no."
T.A. grunted once.
"Wait for the questions dickhead. Are you chained?"
T.A. grunted once.
"Padlocks?"
One grunt.
One of the figures climbed through the window and approached. The other figure remained at the window and kept the torch beam on the chains holding T.A.
It seemed very quick to T.A. Both his hands and his legs were free. He knew it was not Pater undoing the locks. T.A. worried that any sound of the chains being dropped to the floor might attract attention, but there was no sound.
The big rescuer helped him to his feet. T.A. was not as agile as he hoped and it seemed the rescuer, not as patient. T.A. was suddenly thrown over the shoulder of the rescuer and passed out the window like a sack of potatoes.
The shoulder that he was now on was that of Pater.
"Come on my Fairy Princess, we're off to my castle."
T.A. saw the figure emerge from the window, and move ahead of them at a slow trot. T.A saw they were joined by a third figure.
After about thirty metres Pater said, "You're a heavy bastard."
"Put me down Pater, I can walk."
"I bloody well hope so."
T.A. regained his feet. It felt more comfortable than the battering his stomach and ribs were taking over Pater's shoulder.
Pater held one of his arms and one of Pater's companions held the other as they quick-jogged along a couple of streets that T.A. was not familiar with. They seemed to know where they were going.
The one in the front paused in his run, and began to speak into a r/t. T.A. did not hear what was being said as they had soon passed him.
Around another corner and along a few more metres, the group moved into the undergrowth of an empty section opposite a two story run-down looking residence. As they did so, the r/t man joined them.
T.A. looked up to a lighted window on the upper level and made out the slight figure of Siti staring out into the darkness, obviously unable to see where they were or even realising they were there. He wanted to call out but knew he could not.
The under-powered headlights of a vehicle began to shine down the road before the unmistakable shape of a jeepney stopped outside the two story house.
Several men sprang out and dragged a bound and gagged body out and threw it out at the front door of the residence. T.A. was quickly bundled into the jeepney.
As the jeepney was doing a U-turn, Pater ran toward the beach and flashed torch signals seaward. Returning quickly, he grabbed the r/t off the man who had been carrying it earlier and passed on some instructions.
Within seconds, the jeepney moved off toward the main road. A taxi passed them halfway to the main road, and turned right at the intersection near the house where the jeepney had stopped at only moments before. Soon after the taxi turned the corner it stopped and the headlights were switched off.
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Salim Hassan had decided enough courtesy had been shown and asked to be shown where the Japanese was being held. He followed his brother to the front bedroom door where his brother pushed it open allowing Salim to enter first, and alone.
Though the room was only dimly lit from the moonlight and the light through the open door when Salim entered, immediately he saw the wide open shutters he knew something was wrong.
He cursed loudly. His brother came rushing in, looked around, then rushed to the empty chains. He picked them up and examined them as if he was looking for some trace of the man they had held.
Salim walked to his brother and slapped his face with an open hand. Though his brother recoiled with the blow, he did not react in any way apart from looking surprised.
Salim's sister-in-law tried to enter as Salim was about to leave and received a heavy push in the chest which sent her back through the door. She had already begun screaming curses at Salim before her back hit the floor.
Her two sisters and younger brother stood and seemed about to react to Salim's actions, but all stayed still on seeing the hatred emanating from Salim's eyes as he emerged from the room. They had still not moved when he kicked heavily at the front door with the sole of his right foot, smashing a hole, before opening it in the conventional manner.
Salim was mixing the volume of his curses as he began to stride out toward his home. Then he quickly lapsed into a simmering volcanic-angry silence.
As he turned the corner to enter his street he saw the first sleeping dog to his left. His struck out with his right foot catching the dog in the ribs. The dog let out a pained yelp, barked a couple of times and limped off to the road verge.
A second dog nearby, still sleeping through the sounds of the first booting, was Salim's next target.
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