Read Just Cause Wrong Target Page 34

CHAPTER 34

  AN ALLY LOST

  Maria Christina Hotel, Iligan - Day 8

  Pater, Henry and Rangi sat deeply in the chairs in Pater's room.

  "I hadn't foreseen local resistance like that. I should have. Small communities, tight loyalties. We can't charge in, there would be casualties," said Pater.

  "What about coming in by banca?" offered Rangi.

  "It's crossed my mind. It'd have to be after dark and we haven't got any good ground information. Bad information, bad results, you know the creed. And no backup plan."

  "Hostage swap?" offered Henry.

  "My thoughts too," said Rangi.

  "Sounds like it might be. Except for the one big problem. They think they've already got the right guy."

  ----------

  Paradise Plantation - Day 8

  Ueda had not reacted respectfully to Yamada's abuse on Yamada's return from another fruitless sweep of the cleared area.

  Pleased to once again be away from Yamada, Ueda sat in the shade watching the workmen continue their clearing of the ground. He questioned the reasons behind the changes in his attitude. Perhaps it was the first time his loyalty to Yamada had really been tested. Perhaps it was his response to Yamada's apparent personality change and being one centred on greed.

  The workmen seemed to be going progressively slower as the end of the work seemed to be nearer. It would now not be completed until late the next day.

  He wondered what would happen if Yamada never located the buried treasure. All hope for covering up the loss of his bad investments would be gone.

  Would Yamada flee to Japan? If he did he could never face his family, or any of the socially highly placed friends he boasted about.

  Where would that leave him, Ueda?

  He had a reasonable amount of money saved. Perhaps he would open a martial arts training school. If his wife agreed, maybe he should try to migrate to England. They would surely have a need for Japanese-run martial arts schools. There was no language problem for him, and he was sure he could teach his wife to speak passable English in the few months it might take to have all the papers processed. Yes, that would be his best choice of action.

  His thoughts were suddenly interrupted by the ringing of the mobile phone.

  "Yes"

  "Tis Father O'Reilly here my son. Just ringing to see what progress has been made."

  "We're getting the money together. It will still take a few more days though."

  "Then what about making some small token payment to make sure the kidnappers don't lose heart. It is better to make them keep your boss alive for the rest of the money isn't it?"

  Ueda wanted to say that his boss could not care less about the man the kidnappers held.

  "You know, I have spoken with your Mr Seville who seems most cooperative."

  "What do you suggest Father?"

  "Maybe a payment from what you already have in hand, say P200,000. It might help show the good faith you have."

  Ueda grinned. More than that small amount of money was held in the safe in the office for daily expenses. Perhaps he should humour this man.

  "Yes Father, I agree. I will arrange for that amount to be delivered to your hotel later today. I know where you are, and I will be in touch. Goodbye." He pressed the call end button, then, dialled the direct line to Daniello Seville at Paradise Cannery office. Yamada would not even know about it. If it allowed the 'gaijin' to live a little longer he did not mind.

  "I understand a priest has spoken to you about being a mediator," said Ueda.

  "Yes I have. What of it?"

  "He said the kidnappers want a token payment immediately to show good faith."

  "How much?"

  "He said P200,000. I know the company always has much more than that in the main safe in Yamada San's office."

  "What about the second safe?"

  "I don't know the combination to that one," Ueda lied. "But you know the combination to the big safe. Get the money out of there and deliver it to the priest. Have you got the address?"

  "Yes."

  "Well do it." Ueda was surprised at his own aggressiveness. "When we get Yamada San back, I'm sure he will not look favourably on any delays you might have caused that put him in danger."

  Before Seville had the chance to reply, Ueda had terminated the connection and switched the phone off.

  He relaxed again and watched as the workmen cleared more of the area near the three rocks.

  ----------

  Linamon - Day 8

  All was now complete. His banca was now on the beach near Salim’s house. He would load the cube buoy with the attachments, and the marker flag into the banca, then go home to get his eldest son to help him. Omar was pleased he could take this break from looking after the hostage. One of his wife’s cousins had taken over the guard duties while he was out.

  The soldiers had passed through the barrio several times without seeming to have any real purpose in what they were doing. Ostensibly it was all to do with the kidnapping of the Japanese, but they never made any inquiries. They were just being intimidating with their presence. Now they had gone. He did not know if there was any significance of the sudden appearance of the strangers looking for a beach. Maybe it was just coincidence. They had left quickly when confronted by some of his relations and friends who were on self appointed watching duties.

  Omar had not really been interested in much of the goings on outside of his 'project' at present. It seemed as though the hostage looked on the completed work just as proudly.

  Omar, aided by the 16 year old, pushed the banca off the pebble beach, before nimbly slipping aboard over the stern. The engine started easily, and Omar sat at the stern, tiller in hand, smile on his face, already dreaming of the extra fish he anticipated catching.

  He steered the banca toward a reef about two kilometres away from his barrio. The reef was only two metres below the surface at low tide. It was where Omar tended to do most of his fishing. The 16 year old had examined the new cubic buoy closely and gave a thumbs-up to his Father, Omar. Just in case they spotted a now seldom seen turtle, he readied his catcher-pole with noose, then, started to bait the hooks of the set-line. By the time they were within a hundred metres of the reef, all was ready.

  His son pointed to a lone helicopter seemingly slowly heading toward them. beats got louder. He looked up from the viewing box toward the direction from which the sound was coming.

  A lone helicopter was approaching at what seemed a slow speed. The presence of helicopters in the area was not uncommon, but over the past few days, the over-flies had increased many-fold.

  The helicopter climbed for height about one kilometre distance and continued heading directly toward them. Omar's son picked up his spear and began to wave at the helicopter when it got to within a hundred metres. Its flight path seemed it would pass directly overhead.

  Suddenly pieces of the banca were splitting off and being flung into the air. Omar realised what was happening and gunned the banca motor to try and escape. Though he knew it was probably hopeless, he felt if he weaved his boat backward and forward, they might survive. He screamed at his son to get down and was thankful his son did not argue, and dived immediately to the bottom of the boat.

  His immediate hope was that the pilot or the gunner would quickly realise they were only fishermen and offered no threat. But despite his desperate weaving, any sudden change of direction was quickly countered by the helicopter side-gunner. He glanced forward to check on his son. His heart sank. Several large blood marks were showing on the back of his son’s normally spotless white singlet. Omar released the outboard control handle and stood up to check on his son. He took two steps forward, and felt little pain as the side of his head disappeared into the clear blue water near the reef.

  ----------

  The crew of the helicopter cheered. The pilot of the Philippines Air Force Iriquois helicopter moved in close to confirm their success. Both he and the co-pilot gave the thumbs-up to each other
, then, turned to do the same to the side-gunner who had been fortunate enough to make the kill.

  Whether the fishermen were supporters of the MNLF or not; it did not matter any more. They could not support them now, and it had been a worthwhile practice run anyway. He knew that this was one bunch of possible Muslim guerillas that would not threaten his helicopter or any other members of the Armed Forces of the Philippines again.

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