by John Muir
CHAPTER 23
DAY FIVE BEGINS
near Linamon - Day 5
Siti heard her uncle try to leave quietly and pretended she was asleep. She did not want him to know she was awake.
She had not slept well because of her desire to lie close to the Hapona and feel him inside her again.
It was still more than an hour to sunrise. She knew her younger sister slept so well she even had difficulty waking up long after the sun had risen.
Siti sneaked silently off her mattress and through the curtains where the Hapona was unconscious and sleeping on his back. She checked the tarpaulin under him to see if it was wet. It was not.
She lay beside him on her right side and put her left arm over his chest. His perspiration caused by the humid air had dampened his hairy chest. She ran the fingers of left hand through them and felt the ache between her legs. Removing the shorts and panties that she had been wearing when she went to bed, she put her left leg over the non-moving body. Having forced his legs between hers she felt her excitement grow.
She moved her left hand down from his chest to his underwear. His 'thing' was already hard. Gently pulling his underwear down slightly, she slid on top of him and felt the hardness dig into her. His entry seemed so natural and so easy. This time the Hapona moved beneath her and she moved in unison with him. And this time his quiet moaning was a pleasant sound, though she knew she too had begun to make sounds, she fought to suppress it.
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Paradise Plantation - Day 5
Yamada returned to the nipa hut about 30 minutes before sunrise. Though he was disappointed he had not found anything during the night search, he had not really expected to.
The ground cleared was not yet close enough to the three large rocks near the centre of the area. If he had insisted that area nearest the rocks be cleared first as the main priority, it would have seemed very odd. He did not want to create any suspicions. It was also the most difficult area for the equipment to work on. Besides, according to his Grandfather, there were also at least three other smaller caches in the general area of the rocks, just a little further distant. Finding those as well as the main site would be a bonus.
He let Ueda sleep, though he felt like kicking him to stop the loud heavy breathing that made him envy Ueda's peace. Even his switching on the light made no difference to Ueda's breathing. Yamada was pleased the electricity was working. Many times they had only the light of candles or a small gas lamp to see by. The electrical supply was intermittent to say the least.
Last night's dishes were still on the table. He stacked them, removed Ueda's holstered silenced GP 35 Hi power Browning 9mm pistol from the table where it had been left and laid it on the chair that was slid under the table.
Yamada filled the whistling kettle and put it on the lit gas stove. Perhaps it would be a nicer way to wake Ueda by presenting him with a cup of tea when he woke him. Yamada sat in one of the armchairs to wait for the jug to boil. He was beginning to feel impatient with his lack of success. When Ueda woke he would tell Ueda to be at the work-site when the workmen arrived to instruct them to begin clearing the area near the rocks. With the extra amount they were being paid, they were all starting early, as soon as it was light enough to see.
When the jug started to whistle, Yamada sat and let it give off its high pitched shrill. He waited to see how long it would be before the noise woke Ueda. He waited and waited and began to think how incredible it was that anyone could sleep through such noise. And this was the man he had paid to protect his life day and night.
'Thank goodness there had not been any attempts on his life while Ueda was sleeping,' he thought. He had had enough of the high pitched squeal and stood to remove the kettle from the flame.
As he removed the kettle from the stove he sensed a movement behind him at the door and turned around. A figure was standing in the frame. He could not make out who it was. The figure spoke.
"Mr Yamada! You're safe. Everyone was worried about you, that you might be dead." The figure came in.
Yamada now recognised the figure. It was his plantation foreman who lived off-site with his wife.
"Ah, come in. Thanks for your concern. No, I'm quite safe. For now, anyway, or at least I hope so."
"Well, the others will all be pleased to know."
"I'm making a cup of tea, would you like one?"
"Yes please, that would be a nice way to start the day."
"What about your friends, outside, would they like one too?"
"No, there's nobody else, just me. Nobody else has arrived yet so I came to check which area Mr Ueda wanted us to work on today, that's all. I knocked, nobody answered but I could hear the squeal of the kettle for so long I thought there might have been something wrong. Gee I'm really glad you're safe. Did you get away from them?"
Yamada moved toward the table and stood behind the chair on which Ueda's pistol sat.
"Yes, but as yet I don't think they know I've got away. Do you want milk and sugar?"
"Yes please, when I can. Two sugars."
"How are your wife and family?"
"Good. At least I think so. They all went to Zamboanga for a few days to stay with her parents."
"So you're all by yourself then?"
"Unfortunately, yes."
Yamada looked over the visitors shoulder.
"Would you mind getting an extra cup off the shelf, over there."
The visitor turned and looked at the wall behind him. He could not see any shelf. He turned back to ask where Yamada meant the shelves were. He had barely turned back when he felt a sharp pain in the top of his chest at the same time that he heard a loud crack like timber snapping. Then he heard no more.
Yamada fired again as the body was slumping to the floor. It fell on its side. Yamada moved forward, and with his foot, pushed the body on its back. He then fired two more shots into the heart. The body jumped each time. So he fired one more. This time there was no reaction.
He turned around and nearly fired again as he saw another figure. It was Ueda. He had woken and risen quickly. From the wide stare in his eyes he was amazed at what he had seen, or imagined had happened.
"He came here to kill me," said Yamada.
"But it’s the foreman."
"I know, I caught him sneaking around outside and I forced him to come in."
"But it’s the foreman," Ueda repeated.
"He told me that he was the one that had given the kidnappers the detail of my movements."
Ueda put his hand out reclaim his pistol. He knew there were still eight rounds left in the 13 round magazine.
Yamada hesitated. He realised he would still need Ueda's help for at least the next few days. He handed the pistol to Ueda.
"Sorry for this, but I need your loyalty and help more than ever. You will be amply rewarded."
Ueda bowed his head, and vowed to himself to be more careful where he left his pistol.
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VIP Hotel - Day 5
When Pater went down in the lift to have breakfast with Marivic, Rangi and Henry; Nilo's group were already waiting in the lobby. The question of them joining in for breakfast did not need to be asked twice.
Again they ate like there was no tomorrow. Pater signed the total bill onto his room, then, asked for his account to be made up as he was leaving for Iligan.
There was little packing to do. By 9:00 A.M. he had paid his bill and they were all in the jeepney and on their way to Iligan.
To pass the time they went over the training in the use of the mobile phones and the driver with the spare r/t. Then they burst into the singing of the New Zealand and Australian national anthems, together with some other songs that they thought T.A. would recognise.
When they got to Iligan, Pater would book into the hotel recommended by the VIP staff. Then, as soon as they were settled, he needed to talk to the reporter Ruben Consuelo now on the spot in the Iligan offices of his employer’s newspaper. He was not getting any help from the company acco
untant, Daniello Seville.
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near Linamon -Day 5
Omar had returned just after sunrise with five fish from his catch of twelve. He had dropped seven off at his home on the way. Five would be enough to amply feed himself, the two girls, and the Hapona if he was conscious.
Zahra was still asleep when he entered. He passed through the curtains and into the bedroom. Siti was crouching over the Hapona, squeezing water from the soaked rag between the lips of the Hapona.
"Has he woken again at all?" he asked.
"No."
"I was hoping he would have. He was awake for about ten minutes last night."
Siti felt her face redden.
"I'm not sure what state he's in though," Omar went on.
Siti made sure her face was turned away from her uncle so he would not see the flush in her face.
"We must get some more soup into him. Even better if he could take something solid," said Omar.
The Hapona's tongue flicked out to spread the water around his lips. Then his eyes briefly opened and closed.
Both Siti and Omar watched and waited for any further reaction.
Omar moved forward and crouched by the Hapona. He picked up the Hapona's left hand and began to massage it. The Hapona opened his eyes again. Apart from some slow irregular closing of his eyes his gaze remained fixed on the ceiling above.
Omar switched to English.
"Good morning, how are you this morning?"
Omar watched the head slowly turn to see where the voice had come from. The Hapona's eyes finally fixed on his with a hazy stare.
A weak voice with long gaps between the words started.
"Who...are...you?"
"I am Omar."
"I...had a...dream."
"What did you dream?"
"I was...with my...friend?"
"Who is your friend?"
"I don't...know."
"What is your name?"
Omar waited and watched as the Hapona closed his eyes and screwed up his face as though trying hard to think.
"I can't...remember."
Omar was surprised. As dehydrated as the Hapona was, tears had begun to form in his eyes. The body began to jerk spasmodically. He started to get worried and thought the Hapona was having a fit.
"I can't remember," the Hapona cried out with a surprisingly loud and clear voice. He started to sob; his body jerking with each sob.
Siti moved behind the Hapona and helped him sit up. Then, nursed the sobbing head into her shoulder and stroked the dirty matted hair on the Hapona's head.
The sobbing stopped. Omar looked up and saw Siti take the Hapona's hand in hers, and he saw tears in her eyes.
"Why don't I know...who I...am?"
"You will soon. We will help you."
"What...happened?"
"You had an accident."
"How did I get...here?"
"We found you. Can you eat?
The head nodded 'yes' slowly on his shoulder.
Omar switched to the Maranao language. "Quickly, just heat up a little of the soup from last night, and wake up that lazy sister of yours.
Siti jumped up and ran out the door yelling at her sister to wake up as she left.
"Is your name Ken?"
There was along pause.
"I don't think so."
"Anatawa Nihonjin desu ka?"
Again another long pause.
"I'm sorry...I don't speak...Visayan."
Omar was confused. He had just asked him in Japanese if he was Japanese. This Japanese did not seem to speak Japanese. Either that; or he was a wonderful actor even when only semi-conscious. And the English he spoke was not affected with any Asian accent as he would have expected.
Siti returned with the heated soup in a bowl. She gently put it to his now almost normal sized but dry cracked lips. The swelling on the face was almost totally gone, but the bruising was very dark, especially around the eyes. Considerable whisker growth darkened his complexion even further.
The Hapona was only capable of taking a few sips at a time as he could not breathe through his nose.
Omar could smell the aromas of cooking from the kitchen. Zahra had obviously been told to start cooking, and she was doing so.
"Where are you from?"
Another long pause followed. This man seemed too hairy to be Japanese, both on the body and on the face. Even though Omar knew that Yamada was the mixed blood of different races, most of that blood was Asian. He had never seen an Asian this hairy.
"Uhm. I think...no I don't know."
Zahra had put her head through the curtains to see what was going on, then, just as quickly pulled it back when she saw the frown on Omar's face cast in her direction.
"Do you have any children?"
"Yes."
"All boys?"
"No."
"What is your wife's name?"
The pause was shorter.
"No, I'm not...married, I don't think so."
Siti worked harder on the massage of the stranger's hand.
The stranger was looking at Siti massaging his hand.
"That feels...good. Thank you."
This time Omar saw Siti blush and grinned. He switched to Maranaon.
"It seems your English is better than you thought, Siti."
Siti looked at her uncle in surprise and grinned back.
"Who are you?" asked the stranger as he looked at Siti.
Siti looked at the stranger, then, looked at her uncle.
Omar nodded for her to answer.
"I'm Siti," she answered, "who are you?"
"I'm...damn. I don't know."
This time the stranger gave a little laugh.
"Isn't that crazy. I don't know."
Zahra entered the room with a small plate of fish and rice, and looked wide eyed at the stranger.
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Iligan City - Day 5
With a larger crew to accommodate, Pater booked into the Maria Christina Hotel on the corner of Mabini and Aguinaldo Streets. As he watched them file into the lunch room, he thought about T.A. again and wondered what if anything T.A. might be eating. He realised it was a stupid thought, and how trivial that was. It was more important that he be alive.
He skipped lunch to visit the reporter, Ruben Consuelo. It was important he have the most up to date information that might narrow the area where they could start their search. His fear was still that even if they were in the right area, there was no guarantee that T.A. might be capable of helping them.
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Maria Christina Hotel - Day 5
Pater was feeling pleased at his decision to shift to Iligan. His talk with the reporter had been revealing for both of them. The reporter had immediately accepted his cover-story that he was a mediator representing the church. For Pater, the good news was that the kidnappers had been in touch with Consuelo again and had reduced their demand to P50 million. Secondly, the note was delivered by a young child again. Thirdly, the kidnappers would use the phone for future contact with the reporter. And lastly, the kidnappers were angry that the Japanese cannery company was slow in responding to their demands.
Consuelo had passed all the information on to Daniello Seville, the accountant at Paradise Plantations. The accountant simply advised him that there were problems in raising cash funds to meet any demands. The surviving bodyguard had been reluctant to advise the location and detail of some of the overseas investments.
Pater did not tell Consuelo about his suspicion of the mistaken identity of the victim. Any early release of that information would create an obvious danger to T.A.. It was not that he did not trust the reporter with that knowledge; it was just not worth the risk. The reporter would still work diligently, and had promised Pater not to publish anything until he had spoken to Pater first in case it prejudiced the Church's mediation position. At Pater’s request, he would also not advise the accountant that the church was involved. The mystery of where the Japanese
was, still applied irrespective of what Pater thought might have happened.
Consuelo had already checked with the police whether they could trace any call. They could not. Those facilities were not available in Iligan.
T.A. asked the newspaper man to take the exact time of any calls. On the next call from the kidnappers he was to ask for some evidence to be delivered that they were the ones holding the Japanese. Specifically either the suit jacket or suit pants that the Japanese was wearing.
The reporter was then to telephone Pater so he could place his three teams around the newspaper office in the hope of seeing someone paying a child to take the clothing into the newspaper office.
If the clothing arrived without the kidnapper being spotted, at least having the time recorded they would probably be able to estimate how far away the victim was.
When Pater returned to the hotel, he passed the others sitting, waiting in the lobby. Pater went immediately to his room. They followed him automatically.
With his call to the VIP Hotel he asked to speak to the guard who had seen the Japanese get into Nissan the second time.
He waited while they went to find him.
Finally, the guard was on the phone.
"What colour was the suit that the Japanese was wearing the second time you saw him leave."
Pater thought for a moment that the line had been disconnected. There was a long delay.
"Brown," the guard replied.
"Thanks for you help. Can you put me back on to reception please."
"Reception here."
"Can you arrange for the guard to be taken up to room 308 and can you show him the trousers that are in the brown wrapping on the bed."
"Yes sir."
"Ask him if they were the same colour that the Japanese was wearing when he left the second time. Then please telephone me at the Maria Christina Hotel in Iligan as soon as he has seen them. Don't worry; I'll pay for the expenses."
"Yes sir."
While he was waiting for the reply, Pater showed blown up photos of T.A. to all of the helpers that did not know him. Then he told each to keep them and when they began their search to ask people if they had seen the man in the photo. Not under any circumstances to pay any money to anyone.
The hoped for ring of the phone occurred. He rushed to pick up the telephone.
"Yes'" he almost yelled down the mouthpiece.
"VIP Hotel here sir."
Calmed down a little, Pater asked; "Well? what did the guard say?"
"He said it's strange. It seems to be the same colour that the Japanese was wearing. But the trousers can't belong to the Japanese because he was wearing the same brown trousers when he left."
"Thank you very much for your help."
Pater hung up, turned and smiled to his group.
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