Fall Out

by M. N. Grenside

“So now let’s make a deal,” he said.

  In one swift movement Jonathan stepped forward, raised the gun and shot him. Louis had been adamant, a single shot, execution style. The shell crashed through Bill’s forehead and exited through the back of his skull. The dead man stood still for a moment then slumped forward onto the floor, his blood mingling in red rivulets with the dirt and dust on the rocky ground.

  “I told McConnell ‘No’,” said a voice at the door seething with anger.”

  “I thought you were down on the valley sets,” Jonathan said calmly, hooking his forearms under Bill’s shoulders and dragging him to the cave opening. He kicked aside the board covering the entrance to the cave and with a mighty heave sent Bill’s corpse through the nearest hole in the floor.

  Haribon grabbed Jonathan and pulled him outside. For a moment he thought his boss was going to crush him with his bare hands. “I told McConnell very clearly that Bill Baines was not to be killed,” he hissed.

  “Mr. Louis was clear to us both, this is something he wanted done. It’s personal. Baines brought it on himself. It ensures the movie stops. It’s the best solution. Win-win all round.”

  “Where the hell is Baines’ win-win?” replied a furious Haribon. “You have your money. Stop trying to confuse what you really are with who you’d like to be. We’re all the same, you, me, Mr. Louis. And if you think you’re not, it will eventually destroy you.

  Let’s get the hell out as we all agreed.” Jonathan threw his gun down at Haribon’s feet.

  He turned his back and walked down the hill. If Haribon had picked up the gun and shot him, his last thought would have been that he had misjudged the big man and taken up with the wrong side. But Haribon didn’t and Jonathan knew Mr. Louis was right. Haribon’s moral code made him weak.

  Jonathan soon caught up with Bill’s three friends returning to deliver the message. He was quick and direct. “The stuntman is dead. This movie is over. However, as far as Marcus Riley is concerned Baines is still alive. He still has 24 hours to raise the money for the ransom.”

  Gaffer Mike Garland’s eyes widened, adrenalin pumping through his body. “You son of a…,” he started and leapt forward.

  Jonathan easily sidestepped him, tripping him up. A blade fanned out in his hand. He grabbed cameraman Rory Carmichael, pushing the blade against his neck. He turned to the remaining man.

  “Mr. Wallis, isn’t it? If you don’t want me to slit your friend’s throat, very slowly pull out a note in my right-hand jacket pocket.” The man did as instructed and pulled out a slip of paper.

  “Your home addresses. One word to Marcus Riley outside of my instructions and your wives will be raped then killed.” Jonathan pushed Rory away. “Just one call from me. Now go deliver my message. Not another word.”

  He saw the fear on their faces. They would do as instructed. Tough guys? They weren’t in his league. Nevertheless they were still loose ends. He knew he would eventually kill them all.

  * * *

  …Suddenly there were voices, torchlight. Jonathan struggled to regain his thoughts.

  “Kill the bastard,” said Mako, the shock of seeing the bound figure made her breath come in short bursts. “If you won’t, I will,” she threatened as she strode towards the gun.

  “No,” Marcus said as he grabbed the firearm, then turning to Jonathan added, “at least not yet.” He bent down and grabbed at the lapels of his filthy blue overalls. Marcus re-read the handwritten note on Jonathan’s chest and looked at the inscription and logo on his breast pocket.

  “Well, let’s really hurt him, make him talk. Threaten to cut his dick off. That always scares the shit out of you guys,” Mako snarled, pushing against Marcus, glaring over his shoulder at Jonathan as she spoke.

  He glared back at her, breathing through his nose in short bursts but his mind was clear.

  “Forget him for now,” Marcus said flatly.

  Mako looked at him dumbstruck. “Forget him? He tried to kill me, us… twice! Kelso, Mary, Giles… He’s a psychopath…”

  She struggled as Marcus started to haul her away, mindful of the holes in the floor and trying to illuminate them with his flashlight. At the same time he tucked the gun into his waistband.

  “I told you, we’re here for a purpose,” he finally said when out of earshot of the bound and gagged man.

  “Yeah, well, by the looks of our welcoming gift,” her head nodding at the gun, “it’s to drill him.”

  “Maybe.” Marcus was thinking fast, worried what Mako might do. He shook her. “I want to know why… and I can’t think straight with you playing some medieval judge, jury, and executioner. Take a breath.”

  Mako still glowered but grew calmer. He took a deep breath. “We’re obviously looking at what must have been one of the hordes of Yamashita’s Gold that Consuela had been instructed to tell us about. Yamashita’s nickname loops back neatly to the name Tiger of Malaya Corporation on the USB. We made THE LAST COMPANY here. It’s clear now the location was chosen to allow McConnell, this Harrysomething…,” he looked at Mako who nodded that she was following his train of thought “And your father to recover the treasure hidden in the trucks down there; all done under the cover of a movie.”

  “A film to cover up a crime…,” Mako continued, her eyes still glancing at the bound body behind them, making sure he hadn’t moved. “Bill Baines is killed, apparently by that,” she nodded towards Jonathan, “to trigger the bond.” Mako glared at Jonathan. “Then the treasure is slowly drip fed into the black markets so as not to arouse suspicion,” continued Marcus. “Every six months the proceeds are paid by Golden Eagle Trust into accounts here in Pagsanjan… all of which are rerouted via a bunch of accounts back to the Tiger of Malaya Corporation.”

  “Six numbered accounts in Pagsanjan. Bill Baines, Robert Kelso, Sam Wood, Louis McConnell, my father, and you.” She looked at Marcus and stopped.

  “C’mon! I sure as hell never got anything!” Marcus answered sharply.

  She ignored his tone and continued, “Nor did Sam, which pissed him off when he unraveled why that money arrived in his account in LA. Convinced what was really going on during THE LAST COMPANY had something to do with drugs,” continued Mako. “He writes that screenplay which he sends to you all, with tiny clues saying either ‘I’m on to you’, or ‘you’ve been used’.”

  “So, Sam wasn’t sure who was getting money or exactly what was going on?” Marcus said following her logic.

  “That’s why he sent you FALL OUT… not for you to make it…” Marcus thought back to his promise to Jax, and why he had desperately seized the opportunity to make FALL OUT and the potential revival for his stalled career. “Well, at least let’s find out the answers for Sam.” Marcus turned to the small bundle behind them. “Who is this piece of shit… who has selected us to kill him and why?” He thought for a moment, “And why here?”

  “How the hell did anyone know this stuff was here in the first place?” questioned Mako. “And how did they all know each other?” Marcus thought for a few moments, “Did you see the name of the hotel in town, with the large eagle on the roof? The Heart of Darkness Bar and Grill Inn. Don’t you see?”

  “Joseph Conrad. His book The Heart of Darkness was the basis for the film APOCALYPSE NOW. I was about to say something but that jerk Rizal stopped me… I told you my father talked to me about the films he’d been involved with?”

  Marcus nodded remembering their talk at the hotel in Geneva. “One of the first was APOCALYPSE NOW. McConnell and he met then.”

  More pieces were falling into place.

  “My God Mako. That shoot ended in ’77. Something happened that must have alerted them all to this. They waited and plotted for over two decades to pull this off? Everything must have been worked out to the last detail.”

  “You mean McConnell and my father,” said Mako with no hint of emotion now.

  “And I assume the person who sent Consuela and stuck us in here.”

  “The local connection
?” Mako asked.

  “A local boy made good… stinking rich good…”

  “How did they find it, what the hell took them so long, why wait so many years…?” wondered Mako.

  “The eagle!” Marcus said a little too loudly.

  That provoked a reaction and movement from the prone figure behind them. A puzzled look came over Mako’s face and she slowly started to search her pockets.

  “What are you looking for?”

  “I’ll explain… go on. An eagle?” said Mako, relief on her face as she found what she was hunting for was still in her pocket.

  “It keeps turning up everywhere. Soon after the collapse of THE LAST COMPANY your father renamed the house in Switzerland after an Eagle’s Nest ‘Nisten’, Golden Eagle Trust is sending out the money, Consuela pointedly referred to an eagle in her telling of the fable and it’s Aguinaldo’s symbol in FALL OUT. Seeing that eagle in town on the hotel today also jogged something in my memory, now I know what it was. The head construction guy on our shoot, who worked on this cave, his nickname was something to do with an eagle and there was an eagle in his company’s logo.” Mako handed him the folded piece of notepaper she had taken from the hotel room with the details for their drive. “Like this?” she asked. Sure enough, under the name of the hotel was the same logo of an open winged eagle.

  “It’s not Harry Bourne. Consuela told us. It’s Haribon, the eagle.

  A powerful friend,” Mako said quietly.

  “OK, so that explains how he knew where we were.”

  “And what he wants us to do,” said Mako looking at the gun.

  Marcus pulled back the retaining pin under the barrel and pushed the cylinder out from the center of the gun. Five of the chambers were empty.

  “Only one bullet.”

  “One bullet, one question,” said Mako.

  “Right,” said Marcus. “Help me out here. Clearly Louis McConnell, Haribon, your father and maybe others built up their own fortunes. But why kill Bill…?”

  “But surely it’s obvious. The insurance document hidden in my certificate that my father kept showed clearly that Bill’s death would shut down the movie,” answered Mako.

  “They didn’t need to kill him for that,” Marcus said slowly. “We were screwed once the hijacking of the dailies took place. We couldn’t pay. The local crew disappeared; we lost all the shot footage. The named star had already threatened to leave. The bond would have been pulled. Baines’ death just doesn’t fit. It wasn’t necessary. You know what’s wrong?” he said after a pause. “This had been planned for years. Every last detail. But something happened after the original bond contract was signed; something down here that meant Bill had to die. Something that made Louis add Bill to the ‘Essential Element’ clause. Your father was keeping the handwritten amendment to say whose idea it had been.”

  “Still doesn’t get him anywhere near to absolution,” Mako said flatly.

  “Maybe, but even though Bill’s death resulted in a surefire way to close the movie, it was an afterthought. A damned convenient one… and why does the note pinned to that thing say ‘I executed Bill Baines’ not murdered? Why would anyone benefit from Bill’s execution?”

  Marcus stopped, his flashlight now pointing down at the shattered and broken vehicles that lay beneath him and a sudden cold chill ran through his body.

  He thought back to Sam’s very first introduction to McConnell. Then to Cara’s first night on the set with her cousin and the note pinned to the bound figure.

  “Oh no…”

  It was the only explanation that possibly made any sense. “I bloody well know what my question is going to be.”

  He swung round avoiding the holes and went back to the body huddled on the far side of the cave, trying to resist the urge to shove the muzzle of the gun into the man’s mouth and pull the trigger.

  Jonathan recognized the danger in Marcus’ face as he bore down on him. However those extra moments when Marcus had moved away with Mako had given him all the time he needed. As Jonathan had tried to sit up, he had felt a sharp pain in his leg as a shard of metal protruding up through the floor sliced through his jumpsuit gashing his leg. His wrists and forearms were now bloodied from lacerating them again and again against the jagged metal spike until he had finally worn through the rope.

  “Sunburst Airfreight. ‘Our Day Will Come’ That’s why you killed Baines, isn’t it?” spat Marcus.

  In that moment Jonathan knew that Marcus understood. Jonathan’s arms snapped out from behind his back. Before Marcus knew what was happening, he had yanked the revolver out of his hand. A split-second later Jonathan’s legs snaked out from under him, viciously catching the back of Marcus’ heel. Even before Marcus had hit the ground, Jonathan had pushed the barrel hard into his temple.

  “All I need is one bullet,” Jonathan said, ripping the tape from his mouth. “Because I can kill you with my bare hands,” he hissed at Mako. “Of course, if I had a syringe here and a bit more time, I’d inject air into your veins… instantly causes an embolism and completely undetectable,” he said with a smirk, looking directly at her.

  An embolism. Mako looked at Jonathan in horror as what he said sunk in. Her body started to shake, caught in the glare of his triumphant sneer.

  “Your father must have been ashamed of you,” he jeered at her. “If that means he was proud of scum like you, I’m glad he’s dead,” she snapped back, anger making her breath come in short staccato gasps.

  “Your father never asked me to kill for him. Might have, though,” he taunted her. “It was Mr. Louis who wanted your mother out of the way. Your father’s fault though. He told Mr. Louis about the secret of the head after your mother solved it. Once she did that, she became just one more problem to take care of.”

  Marcus flinched but Jonathan had him firmly in his grasp. “Now, come here you bitch,” he snarled cocking the hammer of the gun pressed against Marcus’ head.

  Haribon sat outside, high up on the rock above the cave, with the drama playing out below. He rotated the stub of his cigar against the stone.

  The three of them should be just about cooked by now, he thought as he looked at his watch. “You two start getting things ready,” he said turning to his men. “Rizal will be here with Cara any minute.”

  * * *

  Lorne was alone on the water. He could just make out the figures on the rock’s summit as he shut off the boat’s motor and pulled silently up to the bank. He crept onto dry land and waited as agreed, for his ride to the summit.

  69

  THE ROCK SUMMIT, PAGSANJAN

  With Haribon watching them, Datu and Joselito unlatched the rear gate of the breakdown truck and began organizing the various piles of coiled ropes, chains, cutters, and cables.

  They worked quickly, hooking up the cables to the side of the padded wicker basket. They then heaved the basket off the back of the truck and dragged it a few yards uphill from the rear of the vehicle, leaving it next to the boulder near their boss.

  “Joselito, go anchor the truck onto something,” Haribon instructed.

  The young man walked to the front of the cab that was pointing uphill, disengaged the brake on the forward winch and pulled out a steel cable capped with a spring guarded carabiner tow hook. The winch was bolted just below the radiator grill between the large bull bars that protected the nose of the truck.

  With the hook in his hands and the cable snaking out behind him, Joselito slowly picked a path over the rock-strewn surface walking a short distance up the gentle incline. He looped the cable a couple of times around a six-foot fin of rock, clicking the giant carabiner back onto the cable, then tramped back towards the truck and the others gathered around it.

  * * *

  Lying motionless in the long grass further down in the valley, Lorne waited for Rizal and the approaching jeep.

  “Where are you taking me,” asked Cara as defiantly as possible? Rizal didn’t even turn to face her as the Jeep rumbled up from the riverbank to
the rock summit where he was to join Haribon and the others.

  She looked at his pockmarked face, highbrow, and jet-black hair, such strong native features. Perhaps he didn’t understand her?

  “Sann patungo ang sasakyan na ito?” she repeated in Tagalog.

  The man remained silent.

  Rizal’s eyes never left the road. He had understood exactly what she had said, both in English and Tagalog. He had been told to stay silent and knew better than to disobey; the trouble was he now had two sets of orders; each from very dangerous men. He was taking no more risks and following all instructions to the letter. Rizal barely felt the vehicle sink as Lorne silently hopped onto the back as the Jeep slowly bounced over the terrain.

  Dusk was turning to dark by the time they reached the summit and Lorne quietly hopped off his free ride about 250 yards before Rizal and Cara’s truck came to a halt among the knot of activity on the summit.

  Haribon nodded in greeting to Cara. He was holding in his hand a small glass jar. He carefully poured the mild acid solution over the top of the stone ‘plug’ in front of him that sealed the cave roof. The plastic and plaster painted to blend in with the stone soon melted away. A large eyelet appeared, driven deep into the boulder and cemented in place by Major Okobudo’s men years before.

  “Found this when working on our movie,” he explained to Cara. Joselito had his fist locked over a tow hook that swung from the end of the crane and was now poised just over the boulder. Jumping into the truck, Rizal took up the slack of the cable that ran from the front winch to the rock and was acting as an anchor. The rock would prevent the truck’s mid-mounted crane and the weight it was about to support, from tipping the vehicle back over its rear axle.

  With a hand signal from Haribon, the hook from the crane was inserted in the eye. The whole lorry shuddered as the line attached to the finned rock tensed. With Rizal working the controls, slowly the rock ‘plug’ was lifted from its hole. Using metal spars Datu and Joselito helped edge it away, lowering it back to earth at the side of the hole. Joselito uncoupled the hook from the stone and attached it to the ropes from each corner of the basket that stood next to the opening.