The Siege Of Apuao Grande
Page 41
CHAPTER 40
THE DANGEROUS QUARRY
MT. KANLAON, NEGROS
The time for the second round of reports had started an hour before at 7:00P.M. Warvic was too disturbed about some facts that had come in during the first round of reports. Fifteen groups had failed to report out of the total of 66. A very high number. But in view of the information that did come in from other sources, possible reasons for the large number not reporting might be explained. Several groups reported that varying amounts of the equipment listed was not delivered. Some local organisers had demanded money before they would release weapons. Some banca owners had demanded more money, at the last minute, for the use of their bancas.
Other groups had opened weapons boxes after landing to discover they were empty. Many groups reported short supplies of walkie-talkies, night vision glasses, missing stinger missiles and launchers and 50 calibre machine guns. That was only amongst the hardware. Some also had reported a shortage of masks and camouflage clothing. Warvic was seething. The lack of reports was probably due to radio transmitters being stolen by local communist organisers.
She found it unbelievable that these hard-line communists had so easily become corrupt self-serving capitalists at the first opportunity. Her comrades were showing that, when temptation presented itself, they were no better than any of the corrupt swindlers involved in any of the food or clothing scams of the capitalists.
Was she expecting too much of her fellow Filipinos? She had read that the World Bank had, at one time, officially rated the Philippines as the most corrupt nation in the world. But one of the minor objects of this exercise was to shake the confidence of the people in power, hopefully enough for them to reconsider their positions.
Leaving Suraido and Raul at the radio to take details of the reports coming in, she made it very clear she was not to be disturbed under any circumstances. She needed time, by herself, to think. She was suddenly feeling very ashamed of being Filipino.
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APUAO GRANDE
Heidi looked at her watch. It was nearly 9:30P.M. She was disturbed about the w/t message from Aziz when he had called her about 8:00P.M. He had sent four of his men to see her about 5:00P.M. in case help was needed. They had not returned to him when the evening food was delivered at 7:45P.M. Heidi said she would find out and let him know.
In a Tagalog message transmitted by Domingo to Boy, Heidi asked Boy to investigate. A few minutes later he reported back that the four had not even made it to the restaurant. Before she had the chance to think it, he said it was very unlikely they would have deserted.
Heidi wondered what loose cannon had entered the game. It would need a daylight search of the path to uncover any clues as to where the missing four had left it, or if anything had happened to them. She would check that out herself, or at the very least have Helmut do it. It was no good trying to contact Helmut now; he would have left his radio where he had landed. She knew he would make contact immediately he had killed the Libyan, or had satisfied himself that they were not on Canton. Then he would radio from his landing spot and organise a banca to pick him up. It never crossed Heidi's mind that Helmut would fail, or get himself shot or killed. She was only thinking that if Helmut did not find the radio transmitter and get back by midnight, she would miss the second allocated call-in time.
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CANTON ISLAND
Helmut's caution was instinctive. He knew this Libyan, like himself, had been trained to be a killer. One thing kept ringing warning bells in the back of his mind. This Libyan was not only trained but was obviously also an unpredictable sadistic psychopath. Unpredictable people do unexpected things. How then could he try and anticipate what the Libyan might do next? Did he have to think like a madman to outfox him, or would intuitive logic prevail?
Perhaps the Libyan had made for the banca which he would have hidden nearby. Helmut could not hear any of the give-away sounds of a boat's hull being pushed along the ground. Certainly there was no sound of a motor having been started. Perhaps the Libyan was at his reserve arms cache, waiting for him to get close enough before firing. Maybe he had already collected his spare weapons and was hidden near the banca, waiting for Helmut to discover it before firing a fatal shot.
Every few paces, Helmut stopped and held the night glasses to one eye to check the forest to his front and each side. He was getting close enough to the shore to catch an occasional glimpse through the trees of moonlight on the sea.
A thought that perhaps the madman was stalking him made him turn quickly and check out the areas behind him with the night glasses. Nothing suspicious behind him, yet. The lack of any sound seemed to confirm to him that the Libyan had gone to ground and was waiting, somewhere.
But where was he waiting? Was the Libyan still ahead of him or had he already passed him, which meant the Libyan was now behind him. Helmut cast another quick glance behind his back.
There was no obvious trail where he had gone. No broken branches or foot trails. The jungle was kind to people who took reasonable care.
Helmut spotted the sharp end of the bow of a banca. It had been pulled up against and under the trunk of a large fallen tree. It had to belong to the Libyan. But was he close by? Perhaps Helmut had beaten him to reach the boat. That seemed unlikely as the Libyan was in a big hurry while he had been ultra-cautious and very slow in making progress.
Helmut peered intently through the night glasses at all the forest areas near the parts of the banca that he could see. Parts were blocked by the trunk. There was no visible human presence. He looked again without the night aids. Perhaps he might see a movement against the moonlit sea. He checked the ground in front of him for five metres before moving on parallel to the bow of the boat. Then stopped again, looking all around the 360 degrees from where he stood. Then on another five metres and repeated the same routine. His forward movement had enabled him to see both sides of the banca in case the Libyan had been hiding behind one side. He still could not see inside the banca or behind the stern. Foliage covered parts of it to disguise the shape. The Libyan could be hiding inside.
If he approached the banca from side on, anyone inside the banca would have to twist sideways to shoot. That might give him the extra split-second advantage he would need. Next he decided he would approach with the moon to his front. Although it might diminish his sight to some extent, at least he would not be silhouetted by the moon. He moved to the position he was going to approach from. One more very careful look at the surrounding forest confirmed, as well as he could, that the Libyan was not hidden nearby. A final check of the night glasses' straps made sure they were properly in position. He was as ready as he could be.
Slowly, almost imperceptibly he began to move forward. Ten metres reduced to nine, then eight. When he got to seven metres from the banca he stopped. His senses told him there were eyes watching him. If it was the Libyan why had he not shot? Perhaps he did not have a separate weapons cache; he might not be armed.
A madman might be over-confident in his own ability and he would have planned some revenge against Helmut, armed or not. The Libyan would know Helmut would find the banca. Therefore it had to be by the banca the Libyan would try something.
Before he moved on, Helmut tried to rack his brain to find what his senses were telling him. As a flash of lightning it was suddenly there. Helmut looked high into the branches of the tree above the banca. Three metres up, the Libyan was crouching on a branch, waiting ready to leap. Helmut took two quick steps back and fired three quick shots at the Libyan's chest. The Libyan lost his balance and fell backward. The body somersaulted and crashed face down and lifeless across the banca.
Helmut waited. The Libyan did not move. Helmut looked at the naked body. He noticed a deep burn and dried blood mark across the bare cheeks of the Libyan's bum. Helmut realised he must have grazed him with the first shot when the Libyan rolled. Then he saw a similar dried blood mark and welt on the inside of his upper arm. So another bullet had grazed its mark. Helmut move
d forward to roll the Libyan over. The Libyan's right ear was barely hanging on with the clear bloody bullet hole having passed through the flap.
"Three out of three," grunted Helmut. He rolled the Libyan onto his back. Three clear bullet entry wounds in the chest also showed the result of his last three shots.
"Six from six," he muttered to himself.
Helmut moved away and leaned against another tree further away from the banca. He took a few deep breaths before he began to make his way back toward where the young girl was left. He was not looking forward to checking out her condition.
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APUAO GRANDE
Despite being thirty or more yards from the main track, Pater and T.A. both smelled the food being taken up the path to the guerillas on the hill. Pater had explained to T.A. his best guess of the locations of the guerillas from his limited reconnaissance. The smell of the food suggested more to Pater though than it did to T.A. To Pater, because of the lack of any activity to the contrary, the normal delivery of food suggested that the four they killed had not been noticed as missing.
T.A. complimented Pater on his set table and drinking equipment. T.A. had watched with intrigue as Pater cut just below the regular knot of a bamboo, then made another cut just below the next knot above. After a quick scrape of the knife around the hollow inside, Pater presented it to T.A.
"Your own cup, and wash up after yourself, please," he had said with more than a little self satisfaction.
"I'd get you a temporary plate if you scrambled up one of those cocoa-nut trees for me," he went on.
T.A. nodded.
Pater raised his hand for silence which made T.A. tense up.
"Dinner guests coming, I believe," said Pater.
T.A. reached for his knife to be ready for trouble. He had heard nothing and looked at Pater who was grinning back at him.
The little wire-haired terrier poked his nose through the scrub into the bower and sniffed expectantly.
"You little prick Fred, you frightened the shit out of me," said T.A.
As if hurt by T.A.’s words, Fred ignored him and walked to Pater who gave him a pat on the head.
"Now we're all here we can eat," said Pater. He pulled two unmarked tins out of his swag, placed them on one of the banana leaves he had spread out, and proceeded to open them with his knife.
"I hope cold chef's surprise is OK with you?"
T.A. nodded then shuddered at the thought that the same blade killed three people earlier in the day.
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CANTON ISLAND
Helmut chopped three long bamboos and laid them across the path to mark the entry to the small clearing where the Libyan had hidden with the girl. Then breaking small branches as further clues, he entered the area. The moonlight was strong here as there was no canopy to block the light. He could see clearly. He sat beside the naked little girl and shook his head disgusted at what the Libyan had done. She could not be more than nine or ten years old. Helmut was thankful that the pain of her injuries had caused her to pass out for now, at least giving some temporary relief. She had probably been a pretty young thing. Now, her face was horribly smashed and broken. Even her eyes had been pushed back into her sockets to blind her. She could not see to escape.
Gently Helmut removed the dirty rag that had been pushed into her mouth and cut the rope that bound her hands behind her back. The flow of blood from her head wounds and between her legs had attracted ants that were busily feeding on this unexpected bonus. Helmut used his small canteen to pour water over them to drive them off knowing it was futile.
He sat cross-legged just looking at her for a while. He wondered what might have been had he moved quicker, or was the damage already done? He thought about the future for the girl, if she lived. At her age there would be nightmares and terror. Then when she got older who in her family would tend to her needs. A blind person was still a person, but this one now had very little of a normal face left.
In the small barrio she might be safe, but she would feel terror at the sound of any strange male voice. Because of the grotesque act inflicted and the horrible memories she would be left with, she would never learn to forgive or accept the close comfort which a loving body gives. She would never be able to relax or to trust another man.
Helmut moved in behind her, still sitting cross-legged, and gently sat her up. He nursed her into him and began to sing some of the German nursery rhymes that he could remember his sister Gerda, and then Heidi used to sing to him. He thought of the Libyan and how he would cut his head off before he returned to Heidi. He would carry the girl back to the Libyan's banca and put her in with the Libyan's torso and severed head. Then he would push the banca out to sea with both the perpetrator and the victim inside.
He rocked the girl gently back and forth while he went on singing. She began to stir back to consciousness. Helmut put his arms around her head and neck in a seemingly protective grip then twisted it quickly. He heard the snap of the neck bone. When he felt the body relax he knew the little girl would never suffer from human pains again.