CHAPTER 15
THE SNATCH
Cagayan de Oro-Iligan-Marawi Highway
With the talkative Yamada and the silent watchful Ueda both gone, T.A. felt he could start to consolidate his own agenda as to what he wanted to do over the next few days. Yes, he did appreciate what Yamada was doing, but after this trip he would insist on independence.
Watching the oncoming traffic pass by on the 'wrong' side, he was sure he could never get used to driving on the right hand side of the road like this. He accepted that the Philippines had been occupied by the USA for a long time; therefore they would follow the road rules of their former colonial masters. Then he pondered why the 'Yanks' drove on the wrong side. That was surely only to prove that they were rebelling against their former masters, the British, and therefore throwing out any semblance of obedience to their former rulers. If that was the case, why hadn't the Filipinos' thrown out the 'Yankee' right-hand drive rule? Then they would drive on the left as any sane country should.
There were too many anomalies and inconsistencies in this country. Thinking about it did not alleviate his nerves at every honk of the horn to warn road-side pedestrians of the vehicles approach. The pedestrians still ignored the horn and continued to walk on the same part of the roads verge, even a metre or two into the road.
It amazed him that even under normal random chance, it would be a case of 50% of pedestrians walking facing the traffic. But not in the Philippines. Here it seemed that the vast majority had been schooled to walk with their backs to the traffic.
'Oh well,' thought T.A., 'if you are going to get hit by a vehicle, perhaps it's best not to see it coming.'
At least the road to Iligan was good in comparison to many he had travelled in the Philippines. It was a proper highway, even if there were no divider markings in the centre of the road. It was suitably slightly wider than two cars width.
Built several years before by Korean contractors who had not weakened under the demands for bribes and kickbacks, or buckled under threats of violence, the road was strengthened with the full mix expected of such construction. Consequently the road had stood up well to many years of heavy traffic with negligible wear.
But the pedestrians still used the outside metre as a footpath.
Then every hundred metres or so, a farmer would use a third or more of one lane to spread his rice for drying on an area up to twenty metres long. Drivers would dutifully swerve to the middle of the road to avoid the precious drying crop ignoring any oncoming traffic. If it was not rice, it was copra.
Of the livestock wandering on the road, the sheer size of any carabao meant they had to be avoided because they could cause considerable damage to a vehicle. Of the others, pigs and poultry were also given a wide berth. The reason for avoiding poultry was that there could be a prize fighting cock in the next brood. Dogs however were a different story. They took their chance ranked equally with or even behind any pile of leaves on the roadside. After all, the leaves might be hiding some small chick which might grow up to become a champion fighting cock.
Even though T.A. was thankful that he was in the back seat of this Nissan Patrol with its air-con and comfortable seats, he was even more thankful that neither the driver nor the body-guard could speak English. He was quite relaxed enjoying the silence. Neither of the other two had tried any form of communication with him. They had probably been on this road a thousand times, so were hardly likely to ask him for directions. T.A. had never been in the area. The 'boss' was specific as to where they were to take him.
As the density of housing increased, T.A. guessed they were nearing Iligan. A large signpost read Marawi with an arrow pointing left. T.A. presumed it must be a by-pass around Iligan.
The driver followed the arrow and soon after the turn-off, the road began a noticeable upward climb. At the same time it showed a reduction in the quality of its surface and width.
By the time another 30 minutes had passed, the housing became more scattered. The normally semi-cultivated plots near the road began to give way to the edges of the rain forest. The fringes of the road seemed almost deserted of pedestrian traffic. Bare of what T.A. had considered was normal.
Iti, in the right front seat, had begun to look more frequently left and right, and checked a mirror that T.A. had just noticed. The driver too appeared to be spending too much time peering into the areas of the rain forest that came closer to the road.
The driver’s actions made T.A. feel uncomfortable. He wanted the driver to concentrate on the road.
Iti looked closely at two jeepneys parked one in front of the other on the right side of the road. Six or more Filipinos appeared to be working on the motor of the rear jeepney and another four leaned against the rear of the front jeepney. They all looked at the Nissan as it passed but would have been unable to see the occupants because of the dark tinting of the glass.
It seemed odd to T.A. There was no evidence of houses nearby from which the 'mechanics' could have come. He was reminded of Pater's teachings, 'trust your instincts'. He was trying. What were they telling him? He knew he had a sense that something was wrong. Iti seemed nervous, and the driver was touching the handle of his pistol. Perhaps it was only their apparent concerns that had triggered something in T.A. Perhaps the nervousness was contagious.
T.A. could see that fifty metres past the parked jeepneys the road appeared to veer to the left. The rain forest came close to the road on both sides.
The driver slowed only slightly before entering the corner. To T.A. the speed was too fast for what to him was a blind corner. He tried to reassure himself that the driver must have been over this same road many times, and he probably knew the road well enough to know what speed he could do.
The sudden application of the brakes threw T.A. forward off the seat and onto the rear facing seats before he fell back between the two set of seats. He cursed that even in a luxury vehicle the Filipinos would not install seat-belts.
As he dragged himself from between the seats, Iti and the driver were screaming at each other. The driver had dragged the heavy Nissan to a complete stop and was trying to reverse. Iti had extracted an Uzi from somewhere.
T.A. lifted his head to look out the front windscreen. The road appeared to be swarming with men carrying an assortment of weapons from machetes to machine guns. Behind the men were several vehicles drawn up and parked across the road.
The Nissan began to reverse rapidly. It had barely re-entered the corner when two jeepneys rammed into the rear. T.A. was flung flat on the back seat. He was temporarily unsighted to the events.
Several men had run to stand close to each side of the Nissan. Some with machetes stood behind others holding M16's. Each side, the M16's holders began firing at the Nissan's tyres.
The noise boomed inside the Nissan as though it was rolls of thunder claps without pause between them. The Nissan bounced down onto its rims as though released quickly from a jack or hoist.
With the tyres shot out, he knew they were not going anywhere. His heart began to pound. The questions were racing so fast in his mind another question would take its place before he could consider and answer the one before.
'When would they start shooting at the windows and doors?' He suddenly remembered that the vehicle was supposed to be bullet proof. 'Did these people know that?' he wondered. 'They must do!' he answered himself.
But what about the roof? If someone climbed up there could they shoot down through it?
He looked at Iti and the driver and wondered what they were doing. Their heads were twisting backwards and forwards at each direction of the threat. The driver was holding a pistol in one hand and a hand held radio transmitter in the other. From the frantic yelling in his voice he was obviously trying to make contact with someone, seemingly without success.
The reason, he realised, why Iti had not begun firing was obvious. If the glass was bullet-proof and he began shooting, the ricochets would spray inside the vehicle. That would do the job of the attackers without them ever havi
ng to get in.
Iti was alternately pointing an Uzi one way and then another, then to the front of the Nissan. T.A. remembered the Uzi's in the side panels. He quickly released the lock on one panel. Immediately it opened he jerked the Uzi out from its quick release bracket. Some of those outside holding machetes were climbing on the bonnet.
T.A. pushed the three way switch on the left of the pistol grip forward to get single shot. He did not feel he could control his nerves if he fired on fully automatic. Single shot would force him to not 'spray and pray'.
The driver had dropped his hand held r/t. He gunned the engine and tried to move forward on the flat tyres. As soon as the engine gunned some of the attackers at the side slid thick branches under the flattened tyres to act as chocks.
A couple of bumps forward and they were held. A jeepney to the front had drawn up to the front bumper of the Nissan. Even without the chocks they were now held fast. Some of the attackers had pushed their faces hard against the side window trying to see who and what was inside. T.A. was waving his Uzi at them. They did not pull back at his threat. He realised that they could not see what he was holding. If they could, instinct would have made them pull back.
The clunking sound of a swinging machete hitting on the front windscreen snapped T.A.'s head toward that threat. The glass was bullet proof. Was it machete proof too? The first blows appeared to be doing nothing.
A second, third then a fourth machete swinging attacker smashed the wicked looking blades at the screen. Scratch marks were beginning to appear.
For the first time, that T.A. had noticed anyway, Iti had turned around to look at him. When he saw T.A. looking at him, Iti pushed his palm down for him to shelter down between the two seats. T.A. nodded in the negative. He noticed Iti's eyes. They were not showing any fear, merely a look of grim determination.
Iti frowned at him and frantically pushed his palm down again. Again T.A. nodded in the negative. If he had to die he was not going to do so hiding in the back of a four wheel drive.
T.A. was unsure of what it was he was feeling. He was not afraid but he was not feeling brave either. He would shoot as many of these bastards as he could before they could get him. He had not thought about dying until Iti's frantic palm action. 'Dammit,' he thought, 'why did you do that?' He wondered what the pain would be like if a bullet tore into his body. If it did not kill him would he scream in pain. The memory of his head wound on Apuao Grande flashed into his mind. Though the pain from that wound did not really count because he was already on the verge of passing out and was beyond feeling pain.
Even when he was recovering consciousness all he could feel was the headaches and dizziness. But this was different. All his senses were alert and ready.
Small cracks were starting to appear in the front windscreen. Tiny slivers of glass were being chipped out. Iti seemed to be waiting for the right time to begin firing through the weakened glass. Too soon and he could be killed by his own ricochet.
Two of the M16 carrying attackers had obviously considered the same thing. They had moved to the front of the Nissan and stood slightly back and to the side. The weapons were raised and one pointed at the driver’s side, the other at the front passenger’s side.
T.A. wondered which of the weapons had the greater punching power, the M16 or the Uzi. He felt it had to be the M16. But if that was the case, the attackers would be shooting first. Then T.A. wondered when he should start shooting and where at. Iti was in front of him. If he was not careful, he might shoot Iti or the driver by accident if he sprayed his bullets over the seat in front. He double checked that he was still on single shot.
A large crack began to lengthen across the whole breadth of the front windscreen. The machete wielding attackers all stopped and seemed to examine their handiwork. As if satisfied, without haste, they all slid off the bonnet and moved back several metres.
T.A. glanced out the side windows and noticed those each side had also moved back a long way. The two M16 attackers watched their colleagues retreat. Iti once again turned toward T.A. and again gestured with his palm down. This time T.A. knew what was coming and had barely slipped between the seats when the bullets from the M16's began smashing into the weakened glass.
When small shards of glass began to fall on top of T.A. he knew that the windscreen would soon not be giving any protection.
The sudden smashing of a few rounds through the front windscreen into the back and side windows confirmed that the frontal protection was totally lost.
He glanced up but could not see Iti or the driver. Had they been hit already?
The question was answered quickly. He saw Iti's arm suddenly thrust up from the lying down position he must have taken on the front seat. The Uzi was in his right hand. The high rapid staccato sound of the Uzi on automatic confirmed Iti was firing back out through the windscreen.
A couple of screams outside the Nissan seemed to suggest that Iti's blind shooting had successfully found at least one target. The shooting from both outside and inside stopped. T.A. heard a metallic click and realised Iti was changing magazines. T.A. pushed his head up above the bullet proofed centre seat and pointed his Uzi at the front screen. Iti was still laying flat down on his back, inserting the new magazine. T.A. caught movement to the front left of the bonnet. He fired off three shots in rapid succession. The face that appeared had disappeared before he had even fired the first shot.
Iti had jumped in surprise at T.A.'s shots and had pointed his Uzi at T.A. temporarily until he realised what was going on. Another face appeared to the right of the bonnet. Again T.A. fired three rapid shots. Again he knew he was too late.
He glanced down at the driver also lying back down on the front seat. He was not moving. His eyes were open and staring at the roof of the Nissan. T.A. realised that the stare was not seeing anything. There were several deep red holes in the driver’s chest and part of the side of his face was missing.
Several faces appeared behind the jeepney that was blocking their forward movement. This time T.A. did not count the number of time he pulled the trigger. The targets were less than ten metres to his front. It was too late to switch to auto. He wished he had, he might have got one or two, but they were all too quick and had ducked their heads.
The barrels of some M16's appeared over the top of the jeepney, pointing skyward. T.A. thrust his thumb forward on the left of the grip and felt for the small lever. He pulled it fully back. His Uzi was now on auto.
The M16 barrels began to point toward the front of the Nissan, but as yet no faces had appeared. T.A. realised what they were going to do, the same as Iti had done, 'spray and pray'. He pointed his Uzi in the direction of the M16 barrels and squeezed the trigger.
He was surprised that the Uzi had not jumped out of his hands and he managed to easily keep his shooting in the direction he was aiming.
His Uzi stopped shooting. The last round had not come out and had made a different sound at the finish. He dropped back down between the seats to check if he could clear the jam, then realised that he had emptied the magazine. Grabbing the quick release catch he ejected the spent magazine and grabbed a full one from the door panel and inserted it. As he pulled the cocking handle back, rounds from the M16's began to enter through where the front windscreen had been.
Thoughts of ricochets inside the vehicle briefly flashed back into his mind. It did not seem to be happening.
He saw Iti's arm go up again from his lying down position pointing his Uzi in the direction of the incoming fire. Then he held his finger on the trigger until the magazine emptied. For a few seconds there was a noticeable diminution in the amount of incoming fire.
Then suddenly all incoming fire stopped. T.A. again peered over the middle seat. There were still no faces visible. T.A, knew there had to be a reason for the fire to suddenly stop. What was it?
A shadow passed by the right side of the vehicle. Two people were trying to sneak along the side of the vehicle, For some reason they must have thought that be
cause they could not see inside the vehicle its occupants could not see out. T.A. was tempted to try and shoot at them through the glass, then realised he could not. He knew he had to wait until he could get a clear shot at them through the right front as they stuck their barrels in to shoot.
Iti had apparently seen them too. His right arm was moving up, Uzi clasped strongly in his hands. T.A. knew that he would have to be careful not to shoot Iti's arm. A barrel appeared through the left side of the screen. Iti had not seen those that had sneaked up on the left. T.A. switched his aim and fired. Some of his shots were ricocheting off the driver's left window.
The muzzle of the M16 did not waiver. T.A. saw the flame shoot out from the barrel into the prone body of Iti still waiting on the danger from the right. T.A. saw Iti's arm drop down. He had to presume Iti was hit. T.A's magazine was now empty after his firing at the left of the windscreen.
He dropped back down again between the seats.
"Shit", screamed T.A.
He released the empty magazine and grabbed another. The shooting from the front had stopped. He quickly inserted the new magazine and pulled the cocking handle back. It would not lock into place. He ejected the magazine quickly and reinserted it. Again, when he pulled the cocking handle back it would not lock.
"Fuck, Fuck Fuck," he called out in frustration.
The only positive thing he could feel at the moment was that the shooting had stopped.
He took a couple of quick deep breaths to try and control his panic while he figured out what was wrong. He wondered why he did not want to die here. Would there be anybody at home in Australia or New Zealand who would miss him. 'Not likely,' he thought.
He tried to remember how long ago he made his last will and testament. He had been meaning to update it. But if he did, would he have made any changes?
He tried again to reinsert the magazine. Still, the cocking handle would not lock. He was amazed that the attackers had not tried to force their way in through the front windscreen. While he was on the floor between the two seats, he was surrounded by the bullet-proof steel. But now he had a weapon that would not work. If only he knew what he had done wrong. 'Had he done something wrong?' T.A. tried to think about what he was doing differently from what he had done before.
T.A. heard a sound and looked up from his position below and between the seats. The muzzle of a weapon was pointing down at him from over the front seat.
He let out all the air that was in his lungs, looked at the roof of the Nissan, closed his eyes and let his head drop forward, chin touching his chest. His will to fight had gone with the jamming of the Uzi.
He kept his eyes shut tight. He did not want to know when the trigger was being squeezed or to see the face of the shooter. 'Would it be painful?' He remembered he had already asked himself that. 'If the bullets went through the brain, does that kill the brain and not the body? Would parts of the brain still feel the pain? It was the brain that received the messages from other parts of the body? Why hadn't the attacker shot?'
T.A. heard the side doors open. Within seconds the Uzi he was still holding was wrenched from his hands. He made no attempt to keep holding it. He kept his eyes shut and his head bowed.
Hands grabbed his ankles and began dragging him out of the right passenger door. He let them take him and made no sound as his back scraped over the raised footing of the door section. When his head hit the ground outside the Nissan he let out a moan.
Hands secured a better grip around his ankles and dragged him another few metres away from the car. Still he kept his eyes closed.
When those dragging him stopped, they let his ankles go. His legs were so relaxed he hurt his heels when they thumped heavily onto the ground. He was afraid to open his eyes. The voices around him were screaming in words that he could not understand.
'Perhaps they thought he was dead, or at least unconscious,' he thought.
He was unprepared for the kick into his ribs and knew he did not suppress the 'Aaah,' that he screamed out.
They would know now he was neither dead nor unconscious. He opened his eyes.
"Yawa," screamed a nearby voice. He turned to see who it was. Another kick smashed into his ribs and he rolled over in an attempt to protect his injured side from further blows.
He realised his error immediately. The screaming assailant jumped on his back using the full force of his knees and with each following punch into T.A.'s kidneys, spine or anywhere he screamed, "Yawa."
The assailant grabbed T.A. by the hair and pulled his head back. His neck bent so far T.A. felt the bones crack. The grip twisted his head and T.A. was forced to roll onto his back. Two hands grabbed the side of his head and made him sit up, which was almost as painful to his ribs as the kicks had been. The screaming assailant began punching his face with the fury of a madman.
T.A. was struggling to get air into his lungs by trying to breathe deeply. But each intake caused him pain in his right side as though he was being stabbed. He hoped it was only broken ribs and they were not sticking into his lungs.
He looked across at the Nissan a few metres away as he tried to fight through his pain for enough breath. The body of the driver had been pulled out and was face down, blood still seeping out of his chest wounds. Iti's body was propped up against the closed door as though seated and using the door as a backrest.
T.A. thought he was imagining it. Did he see Iti move? He had. Iti was slowly moving his head and slowly moving his arms as though trying to get to a position to support himself before standing.
A machete wielding attacker stood each side of Iti. The front of Iti's barong showed more red than white as the blood from his wounds kept flowing out.
T.A.'s attacker stomped over to where Iti was seated and grabbed a machete off one of Iti's two guards. T.A. was not sure if Iti's eyes were registering anything but they seemed to be looking in his direction without reflecting any consciousness of what was happening.
"Hapona," screamed T.A.'s attacker. T.A. looked up at the skinny little man who had attacked him. The hate that the man's eyes shot back at him sent a horrible chill through T.A. The small man seemed to float in a circle, and too late, T.A. realised what was coming. The centre of his nose and face took the full force of the man’s heel in his round-house kick. He was sure he could hear the bones break.
He watched the little man walk toward Iti and raise his machete.
"Yawa," he screamed again and swung the machete down with all his might. The blow hit Iti on the arm that had been trying to pull the body up from the ground. The forward part of the arm fell away and the remaining stump began to flay in different directions. T.A. saw Iti open his mouth to scream but only heard a gurgling sound and saw the blood run from Iti's mouth.
T.A. felt the air in his lungs was not enough to stop him passing out and he blinked his eyes to try and focus his concentration.
The eyes of his attacker focused their glare of hatred on him again.
"No!" T.A. felt himself scream. He was sure he knew what was coming.
The attacker raised the blade again and screamed "Yawa," as he brought the blade down again, this time on Iti's remaining arm. Iti's totally unsupported torso slipped sideways, blood spurting out from both arm stumps.
"Nadekpan ka na gyud yawa kang Hapona ka," screamed the attacker and swung the machete at Iti's head. T.A. looked away for a second and when he looked up, the attacker was striding toward him. He could see the body of Iti jerking in its death-throws behind the advancing figure.
"Nadekpan ka na gyud yawa kang Hapona ka," screamed the attacker again.
T.A's mind raced. He wondered if he would die bravely without begging for his life. Why didn't they just shoot him.
The attacker swung the machete to one side of T.A's head. 'At least he would not see the blade coming at him,' he thought. He shut his eyes just before the sudden extra pain took all thought out of his brain and he lost consciousness.
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