by John Muir
CHAPTER 48
HOW SWEET IT IS
MT. KANLAON, NEGROS
Radio stations had begun broadcasting interviews with former hostages. Suraido and Warvic listened as each hostage or radio announcer gave personal versions of the events and who they thought was responsible.
Suraido had mixed feelings about the events. It was not as Warvic had promised when she enlisted the aid of the Muslims. Nevertheless, two positive things had come out of it. The Muslims had been united, even if only for this event. If it could happen once it could happen again. Secondly, events had forced a major withdrawal of the AFP from the Muslim areas. That gave them a real chance of later action. The AFP had lost considerable equipment and therefore it would be unlikely they would return to Muslim areas quickly. The Muslims had remained peaceful in this uprising.
His main worry was how to explain the change of plans to his Muslim allies. He had sold the plan as a genuine widespread uprising, not a temporary display of control, then withdrawal. He was supposed to be their ears and eyes. Yet he had blindly let Warvic lead him into a false plan. The real plan was a good plan, but it still did not deliver what Warvic had originally led him and his Muslim brothers to believe.
The extent of the NPA's success had made him realise that the Muslims would probably need NPA help in the future if ever they were to attain their dream of independence. Perhaps if they did take action against the central government later, the NPA might provide diversionary actions to keep the AFP occupied and away from Muslim territory. That, he decided, would be the way he would have to sell the change of plans to his Muslim allies.
Warvic though, content with what she had heard, was still concerned with the silence from several of the minor resorts. There had been some messages relayed from other places about missing equipment at the outset and some incidents of trouble caused by some Libyan helpers. The operation could not yet be declared successful.
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MANILA
On the morning of the third day, the Libyan Ambassador was summoned to Malacanang. The Philippine President, together with his advisers and generals had made it clear, in no uncertain terms, that any uprising of the Muslims during the current period of crisis would be put down without mercy. He warned that any struggle within the Philippines was an internal problem and no external interference would be tolerated. Any Philippine Muslim uprising would result in arrest of Muslim religious leaders, confiscation of Muslim properties, outlawing the Muslim religion, prohibiting congregation of more than ten people, and the destruction of all mosques. The government was adamant that any such uprising would be deemed to be with the encouragement of the Libyan Government. Sufficient evidence could be provided to show the outside world that a direct Libyan involvement had taken place. Such an event enabled his Government to activate various military treaty obligations with the USA and other treaty signing nations under SEATO.
But the President also tried to be conciliatory, offering an olive branch. He thanked the Libyan Embassy for currently not actively encouraging any dissidents in Mindanao, and congratulated them for keeping the Muslim followers from taking advantage of the situation.
In rebuttal of the President's allegation, the Ambassador was quick to point out that it was only the Muslim areas that had remained loyal to the Central Government. There were no Muslim uprisings, and he denied any personal knowledge of the source of the problems. He also denied his Embassy had any ability to control the Muslim population of the south. To show some goodwill in return, he offered to request religious leaders in Libya to offer prayers and suggestions to religious leaders in Mindanao, and for them to continue showing restraint.
The Libyan Ambassador was not lying about his lack of personal knowledge about the uprising. However, he knew who of his staff would. In his position, it sometimes paid to be ignorant of the acts of his staff. He knew which attache he would send to Zamboanga and Iligan. The message the attache would carry would be clear. "Don't rock the boat unless you're sure of success. No armed help from Libya will be provided."
After the meeting, the ambassador summoned the attache he knew would be acquainted with the situation. Although normal flights had all been suspended, the Philippines President would allow the ambassador's request for a special charter flight. Though unspoken, both parties knew the purpose of the flight would be to deliver messages. The President, though, was assuming that there would be more negatives in the message than those considered by the Libyan Ambassador.
Arrangements for the attache to fly to Zamboanga early in the afternoon were made. A chartered Lear jet, under military guard, was ready at Benigno Aquino International Airport, even though the flight was a domestic one.
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MANILA
Two three-man street maintenance crews had been working on footpath maintenance 50 metres each side of the gates of the Libyan Embassy. The men road their motor cycles to work each day and parked them on the footpath near the small tent under which they had been digging a hole in the footpath. One was always working under the tent while another would pile up the earth that was occasionally being removed. The third would be taking his rostered turn to relax and look at the events going on around him.
There was always heavy traffic along this road. The men wore the standard face masks used by most crews to reduce effects of exhaust pollution. In their job, lung infections were common.
They had seen the rare sight, for Manila, of a Mercedes Benz limousine emerge through the Embassy gates that morning. It had taken nearly five minutes before a gap in the traffic occurred allowing the Mercedes into the flow. It displayed the small Libyan flag proudly on the bonnet indicating the Ambassador was inside. Two hours later it returned from the opposite direction, no doubt to facilitate easy entry back into the Embassy grounds.
Both road crews had taken their extended lunch break on site. Packed lunches and water bottles were shared among each group of three. Shortly after they returned to work again, the Embassy gates opened for the third time that day. Again, the same Mercedes nosed out over the footpath for the inevitable wait for a break in the traffic. Both road crews stopped work to watch as the magnificent shining white car tried to bluff oncoming vehicles of the intention to pull into the traffic. The driver was obviously reluctant to have his prized vehicle hit by a jealous jeepney driver only too willing to damage such a vehicle.
Inside the Mercedes was the Libyan attache who was becoming impatient with the delay. He had been on the receiving end of a tirade of abuse from his ambassador, even though the ambassador knew what the attache's real function was within the embassy. He had to take what he considered was an unnecessary trip out of his air-conditioned office, back to dirty, hot and uncomfortable quarters in Zamboanga. He in turn vented his spleen on the driver's lack of courage. In response the driver pushed forward and progressed thirty metres before the inevitable stop of the traffic.
The nearest road crew watched in envy, wishing they could see more through the tinted windows. They could only see the shadowy outline of the driver and the back-seat passenger.
Four motor cyclists, with pillion passengers, had also become impatient with the slowness of the traffic and were winding their way between the narrow spaces of the traffic. They slowed as they got to the Mercedes, two motor cycles each side. Perhaps they had stopped to admire the clean white embassy car from close up.
One of the road crew could see that the pillion passengers on the near side stick what looked like fist-size lumps of chewing gum, with small pipes stuck into them, on the side and back of the Mercedes. He pointed them out to his colleagues. They laughed at the show of insolence against such affluence. All four motor cyclists then weaved around the Mercedes, mounted the footpath and headed at speed in their direction. The maintenance workers, like others on the footpath, jumped out of their way.
Seconds later, four separate and distinct explosions occurred in rapid succession. The Mercedes was visibly lifted a few feet off the ground by the force, but only sl
ightly in comparison to the other vehicles around it which were tossed like paper models. Flames and smoke shot skyward. The road crew was thankful they had dived to avoid the cyclists as they all felt the shock waves pass over them. They looked toward the other road crew, wondering if they had mistakenly hit some unknown gas line, then noticed the flames and smoke emanating from the Mercedes. It was no longer white and shiny. In comparison to the surrounding vehicles, which were bent and twisted, many on their sides, the Mercedes still had its basic shape. The road crew was not aware of the strengthening of the body and chassis to prevent assassination attempts.
Screams of other victims in the traffic snapped them all back to their senses. They ran forward to help the injured. Unbelievably, the back door of the Mercedes swung open. The passenger stumbled out holding his head. By some miracle he had survived. Yet several vehicles in the immediate vicinity had been totally consumed by fire and destroyed, all on board dead or dying. The passenger staggered toward the footpath, trying to get to the gate of his embassy.
The distant road crew now had to dive out of the path of two further pillion-carrying motor cycles careering down the footpath. As they got level with the injured Libyan they both paused. The pillion passengers drew a pistol and emptied its magazines into the twice unlucky passenger. He was dead before the last of the bullets was fired.
For a second time the nearer road crew had to dive out of the way as the cyclists accelerated away and passed them, along the footpath, at breakneck speed.
Regathering themselves a second time, they ran forward and reached the attache's body as other members of the embassy staff and their guards rushed from the embassy gate. The road crew looked in sadness at the destruction of such a beautiful car, while the embassy staff bundled the bloody body of the attache back through the embassy gates.
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MT. KANLAON, NEGROS
Packing for the departure of Warvic's small group was complete. Although there was not much to carry, there were plenty of volunteers to do so. Many wanted to escort their successful leader back to the coast. Warvic wanted to be ready to board the bancas for Iligan before dark.
The radio operator was not part of her group and would retain a listening brief for the next few days. Those with transistor radios listening to radio stations were on their second and in some cases third sets of batteries.
To ensure, as best she could that the Libyans had departed, she was sending Raul by separate banca direct to Cagayan de Oro. There, he would watch the expected arrival and departure of the Greek tramp ship. Raul would not be making contact with anyone on board the tramp. His was a watching brief only. Warvic knew that if the tramp made its planned stop at Cagayan de Oro, and departed on schedule, then everything was going according to plan for the departure of the Libyans.
Warvic knew their "special" bancas returning to Mindanao could outrun any surface ship the Navy had, but they would cruise at conventional speed to avoid attracting attention from any helicopters patrolling the area.
Porters had begun to pick up the small kits of those departing when a babble of excited conversation started around one of the men still listening to the radio reports. Warvic thought she might as well hear about this final snippet of news before she departed.
"What is it?" she asked.
"Somebody was killed outside the Libyan Embassy in Manila," said the man.
Warvic's mind kicked back from its exhausted state.
"Who?" she demanded.
"Apparently it was one of the attaches."
Warvic lowered her head to try and disguise her smile.
Suraido had now approached the group.
"What's happened?" he asked.
Before Warvic could reply, someone else answered the question. Suraido interposed himself between the Warvic and the group.
Warvic raised her head to look Suraido directly in the eyes. His dark eyes looked directly back at her. She prided herself on her ability to read peoples thoughts from their eyes, but this time she could not read Suraido's eyes, or any other part of his facial expression. Despite sweating from the heat, she felt a cool shudder run down the back of her neck. She hoped Suraido had not seen her reaction to the news. She remembered she had never seen Suraido's anger and probably would not recognise any signs before he reacted. He had not achieved his standing in the Muslim resistance by playing his hand openly.
"Was it the attache you met in Iligan?" he asked in a way Warvic interpreted as cold.
She paused before responding. She was unsure whether to lie. Before her brain had fully couched a reply that was both diplomatic and believable she found she had blabbed out an answer.
"I hope so."
"But why now? Couldn't you wait?"
"The Government will be blamed as a reaction to the uprising," she lied. Then, thinking about what she had said, she realised that there was some credibility to that statement that she had not previously considered.
"Warvic, I am a Filipino before anything else. I understand your hate."
"Well. Who will know it was me?"
"I will," he replied.
Suraido's features burst into a smile, then a laugh.
"How sweet it is," he said.