The tournament was held in one of the local boxing arenas. It was neutral territory for all of the contestants and it had a big enough seating capacity for all who wanted to watch. All in all about five hundred people showed up. That was enough to fill about half of the arena. A few newspaper reporters were there, of course. The martial arts studio that Pedro and Diego supposed was a terrorist plant had insisted that no cameras be allowed inside. Since it was not an officially sanctioned tournament, they agreed. The fact that the question was asked, only solidified their suspicions about them.
Arthur didn’t have much trouble dispatching his opponent. It was mostly a dress rehearsal for a future bout, hopefully against an opponent from the suspected terrorist camp. He took his time and favored his left shoulder like he had practiced. Knowing that his every move was being scrutinized, he purposely dropped his guard and never even hinted at his strongest offensive moves. This was, also, a good time to test his stamina. He had to be prepared for anything.
As he shuffled around the ring, he couldn’t help but notice three guys sitting together on the front row. Each of them had a pad of paper and a pencil in their hands. They wore ‘Press’ badges on them but none of them looked like they worked for any newspaper. Rather, they were all built for fighting. Of course, Arthur couldn’t complain. He knew his uncle Pedro had a video camera imbedded in the top of the fake ball point pen he kept stuck underneath his arm. Everywhere he faced was being recorded…..somewhere.
The next day proved to be noticeably harder. Arthur was hard pressed not to use the full strength of his left arm. Several times he backed pedaled away from his opponent and rubbed his shoulder to add validity to the claim that it had been dislocated. He would need every edge he could possibly get ahold of to defeat his opponent in the final match. After thirty five agonizing minutes, Arthur finally got him in a submission hold to win the match. As he stepped out of the ring, Diego brought out a bag of ice and secured it to his shoulder with an Ace bandage before journeying to the dressing room.
As they sat in the dressing room, they were able to watch the last match of the day on the monitor. Pedro had found out that the terrorists’ contestant’s name was Matt. The rumor around town was that he was a disgruntled ex-GI who was hell-bent on taking apart the U.S. one person at a time if he had to. Arthur had to admit, he did have the look of an ex-GI. He wore his hair in the short-cropped style of the Marines. His stocky frame belied the quickness of his moves. Every move he made was well-timed and seemed to be part of a script that his opponent was an unwilling part of.
Arthur’s stomach knotted as he watched his next opponent in action for the first time. As Matt wore the guy down, he began to stalk him as if he was just waiting for the coup de grace. At precisely fifteen minutes into the match, he found the opening he had been waiting for. He flung the unwilling warrior into the turnbuckle and planted the match winning kick directly in the middle of his shoulder blades. As his trainers rushed into the ring and stopped the fight, they were hard pressed to get their man to breathing correctly. He could hardly catch his breath and was totally unable to communicate. Hurriedly, they called for an ambulance to take him to the hospital for observation.
Matt left the ring without the usual show of bravado. His trainers followed him as he went toward his dressing room. His was two doors past Arthur’s and he had intended on stopping by just to intimidate him a little. However, Arthur was face down on the massage table and he could be heard groaning loudly as Diego was working on his left shoulder. Matt just shook his head, smiled and walked on by.
The next day at noon, Arthur felt he was as fit as he was going to be. If he lost this match it wouldn’t be the end of his life. Matt was a worthy and almost vicious opponent. His stare was enough to unnerve you. Of course, Arthur knew full well that the stare was meant to unnerve so he was prepared not to be bothered.
He would concentrate on the ‘tells’ that he had seen Matt show. There were certain nods of his head and flinches the precluded certain moves. Through their stolen video, Pedro was able to document several series of moves that Matt made over and over again.
Earlier that morning Diego and Arthur walked through those moves and developed some counter moves. The only thing that Arthur wasn’t sure about was how long he could keep up his ruse about his left shoulder. If the match got too heavy for him he would have to let out all stops, which included the use of his left arm.
As the match began, both fighters began feeling out each other. How quick were each other’s reactions? Arthur figured that Matt’s trainers had videoed him, too. More than likely, the three press pretend guys had written down what they had seen. Either way, Matt, just like Arthur was able to tell that secrets were out.
After three minutes, Matt scored a vicious take down that let Arthur know that play time was over. Arthur knew by Matt’s ‘tells’ that he was beginning to go into his routine. For the most part he played the script as if he was an unwilling participant. He acted like he was winded and began to gasp for breath. He let his mouth hang open instead of forcing himself to breath out of his nose. Finally, he let his arm hang down as if it hurt too much to lift it. He let Matt herd him into position. Just like he had done the day before, Matt took the bait and grabbed Arthur’s left arm and swung him into the turnbuckle.
Arthur knew what was coming and made up his mind to squat down and do a reverse summersault and hopefully land behind or on top of Matt. However, as he jumped back up, Matt’s kick landed on his left shoulder. As Arthur sprung up, it threw an already overbalanced Matt face first onto the canvas. Arthur was able to recover his aborted attempt at a reverse summersault and land on his feet.
When he looked around at Matt, his trainers had already crawled through the bottom ring ropes. Matt was almost motionless except for his heavy breathing. As they turned him over on his back, it was plain to see that he had landed squarely on the left side of his face. It had already started swelling and he was bleeding at the corner of his left eye and his nose. His eyes were glassy but were darting back and forth. His right arm and right leg were twitching a bit.
Arthur’s hand was raised in victory and Diego’s studio was declared the winner of the tournament. There was applause and many words of congratulations as he tried to make his way back to his dressing room. Once there, Pedro threw his clothes to him and barked, “No time for a shower. Let’s get back to the house to make sure everyone is OK. If I know these guys correctly, they will be quick about planning some retaliation.”
Meanwhile, back in his dressing room, Matt was just beginning to gain his senses. As one of the trainers held an ice pack to the side of his face, he looked at Yasser and said, “Tell the Lord that I would like to have the honor of killing Arthur, TONIGHT. Just get me a gun and he will no longer be a threat to anybody’s plans. Get me a camcorder and I will film the whole thing. I know I’ll want to watch it again and again myself.”
Yasser nodded as he spoke, “Your desire sounds like a good one. I believe the Lord will be pleased with your voluntary service.” He left to make a phone call.
As Diego sped towards home as fast as he dared to, Pedro called the house and told them what had happened. When he finished the conversation and hung up the phone, Diego handed him his cell phone. “Dad, look through my contacts and find Steve’s number,” he said. “He’s a retired Navy guy who lives next to the house the terrorists are renovating. He’s got some surveillance gear pointed at the house and might be able to pick up some info for us.”
When they got to Diego’s house, everyone was dressed up except the three guys. Maria herded them to showers that had already been prepared for them all the way down to the clothes they were to wear. She had declared that they all would have a big feast together to celebrate Arthur’s victory. Juanita, Pedro’s wife had already picked out one of everybody’s favorite restaurants and was busy reserving a table for them all.
And, what an evening it was, too. After a fantastic dinner, they all made their way to the Manila Oce
an Park where they spent the rest of the daylight hours. After watching the sun drop over the mountains, they stopped by their favorite ice cream parlor and pigged out. On the way home, everybody got a little quieter than normal.
Tomorrow would be spent getting ready for a trip into the mountains. Getting ready for a martial arts tournament was rough enough. However, no one knew exactly how to prepare for…something unknown. How much food do you take? How many and what kind of weapons do you take? How long will you be gone? Will you ever come back? They had more questions than they had answers.
They pulled into the driveway at 9:10 p.m. Arthur was totally exhausted after the entire day’s events so he gave his hugs and goodnights in the driveway and walked around to his home away from home to settle down for the evening. Wearily he unlocked the door and walked into the dark room. He reached up to find the string that turned on the overhead light. As he searched for it, he wondered what that blue light was on the shelf across the room. He didn’t remember any clock of any sort being on that shelf, just books. When he flipped the light on he felt a sting in his butt and heard the door slam.
He turned around and saw the bruised face of Matt as he laughed and held up a hypodermic needle in his face. “Good night, pretty boy, for good,” he growled.
Arthur tried to cry out for help but the fast acting serum immobilized him. He sank to the floor as Matt pulled out the 9mm from the back of his belt. He stepped over to the bed, jerked off a pillow and held the gun and the pillow up to the camera. “Nice and quiet like, Master Arthur. And you’ll find this quite painless, seeing you can’t feel a thing anyway. And, you won’t be thrashing about and making more noise than you should.”
He knelt down, placed the pillow and pulled the trigger. With a satisfied grin on his face, he held up the bloody remnants of the pillow for the camera to see. Every bit of the scenario had been broadcast to a remote part of the jungle where the one that called himself Jah Shaphatga’el was eagerly watching.
Their revelry was short lived as Matt heard a voice from outside. “Dad, I heard a gunshot coming from Arthur’s room.” A door opened and shut as an astonished Matt grabbed the camera and ran out of the room. He headed in the direction of the renovated house on the corner. Before he got half-way across the yard, a shot rang out and he stumbled to a halt. Diego and Pedro ran to him. Several lights in the neighborhood came on. People began pouring out of their houses, including the one at the corner.
Mayumi bolted out of the house and was the first to enter Arthur’s room. With a scream that woke up the rest of the neighborhood, she yelled his name over and over as she sobbed uncontrollably. Her brothers, too, broke into tears as they first tried to pull her away from the scene but realized they could only try to console her. It was more than they could handle.
As a horrified crowd gathered, Pedro and Diego stood guard over Matt’s body. Diego and his father were both armed. Diego warned in a wavering voice, “Everybody stay away. This is a crime scene. The police have been called and they will investigate fully. Until then, I will politely ask you to stay off of my property.”
One of the turbaned ones stepped forward and offered, “I am a doctor, and perhaps I could be of some service to the young man.”
Pedro leveled his M9 at him and responded as he wiped his eyes with his handkerchief, “I’ve spent 40 years in the United States Marines and I know a dead man when I see one. And, I’ll be looking at another one if you dare step on my property before the police get here.”
Steve and Terri held onto each other as they tried to comprehend what had just happened. It seemed totally foreign to them that the guy they had watched for six summers could have just been taken from this life. Steve called over to Diego, “Hey, Diego, would it do any good for us to go over and try to calm Mayumi down?”
Mayumi’s screams and sobs of anguish had never subsided and it had a wearing effect on her father. Diego’s voice softened immensely as he answered, “Knowing my daughter as I do and the way she loved her Turo, I would say that nothing short of a sedative shot from the EMT’s could help her right now. But, thanks anyway, my brother.”
Everyone heard the sirens and saw the lights as three police vehicles and two emergency vehicles sped their way down the cul-de-sac. They all backed way off the road to give them free access to the area. The first police car slid to a stop at the very end just past Diego’s driveway. Three men in blue rushed out to insure that the crowd was far enough away from the house for the emergency vehicles to enter. The other two patrol cars drove on to the property and turned in a manner so that their lights shone on Matt’s body.
The policemen got out and approached Diego and Pedro. The two gentlemen surrendered their weapons and pulled their gun permits out of their wallets. As the policemen took the permits and weapons, Diego and Pedro walked over to the emergency vehicle that was backing toward the room addition.
A tearful Pedro turned to the crowd, waved and said, “Thank you so very much.” Many waved back and called out words of comfort and prayers.
As the rear lights of the emergency vehicle shone on the room, everyone standing at the corner of their property had a clear view of what was going on. However, no one was prepared for what happened next.
As Mayumi’s dad stepped into the room followed by the two EMT’s, Mayumi stopped her sobbing. Her dad spoke to her. She screamed louder than before, “No! No, you can’t take my Turo. Don’t take him from me. Don’t take him from me.”
They could hear her father and mother trying to talk to her and then the sound of scuffling feet as she screamed, “No, you can’t take him. You can’t take my Turo. Daddy ple-e-e-a-se, ple-e-e-a-se.”
Diego and one of the EMT’s were physically pulling a totally out of control Mayumi from the room. Even from as far away as the road, the glare of the lights showed everyone that the front of her clothes and one side of her face were covered in blood.
Once out of the room the EMT that was holding on to her nodded his head at the other one. The other one pulled a hypodermic needle from his bag and headed her way. Before he got there she screamed one last time and then passed out. Nervously her mother and brothers gathered her up and hustled her into the house to tend to her. They were followed quickly by one of the EMT’s.
The police took photos of both crime scenes. The bodies were bagged up and carried away in speeding vehicles. Pedro and Diego went with the police to fill out all the mounds of paper work that was bound to be necessary. They left behind two patrolmen to guard the crime scene until the next morning.
In Elmhurst, Georgia, two security vehicles pulled into the driveway at the Hollis residence and whisked his parents and sister away. But, nobody read about it in the papers and it never made it to the TV stations. Certain groups in the Philippines had stopped every piece of information that had tried to get out.