Rebels of Mindanao (9 page)

Elaiza sat down and handed the device to Thornton, who examined it, unimpressed. “Interesting toy. Just give me a cell phone with GPS. I'll call Hargens and tell him where I am. What do I need you for to take out one guy? I don't need a handler in Mindanao; I need some muscle.”

“Easy guys, you just met.” Hayes smiled but wanted to make the two learn some respect for each other. “We just had Elaiza wear this device on a trip to Singapore and back.” Hayes paused, a bit reluctant to tell Elaiza. “Before your Singapore trip, we modified your iPod again. We upgraded its GPS capability before we sent you to Singapore. We needed time, data, and distance to calibrate it for your characteristic movements, your height, weight, average footstep, and simply the way you move.”

Elaiza fidgeted in her chair, obviously troubled by the news, but stayed professional. “You mean you tracked me in Singapore?”

“The first prototype already installed before your trip to Singapore was a normal, military GPS. Then we installed a new device onto the iPod's circuit board, a newer TIAM (Tracking Integrating Accelerometer Module) microchip. It tells us much more accurately where you are. And where you've been. Footstep by footstep.”

Elaiza was obviously hurt. “Don't you trust me?”

“We trust you, we just didn't trust the software and wanted to check it out. Somebody from our staff needed to make the Singapore trip anyway. So we killed two birds with one stone.”

“I'm not anybody's bird. You could have told me.”

“That might have made you act unnatural and ruined our test results. We'll download the data and see how it worked.”

She had little to say to either of the condescending bastards at the moment. She had been so proud to be trusted to make the trip to Singapore. “I can read a map; with the GPS I could give you coordinates pretty quickly,” Elaiza told Hayes.

“Good idea, Elaiza.” Thornton asked Hayes, “Major, why not integrate voice technology on the same circuit board?” Thornton was also puzzled. Once the government gets involved, simple things get complicated. “Why do they make the equipment unnecessarily sophisticated?”

“To be accurate.” Hayes laid it out. “The TIAM is different from old technologies and reduces human error. This device can track your every
footstep, even between GPS signals, and store it until we have a signal.” Hayes wanted to get Elaiza back on board with him; she was the best he had in his department. “You ready for a coffee, Elaiza?”

“Latte,” was the short answer from Elaiza. She did not like what had happened without her knowledge.

Hayes continued. “We could have added voice capability, but Elaiza would still not know her exact position, to the accuracy we need. And with the old GPS you'd use up the batteries too quickly. We would rather conserve power to transmit signals to the satellite. After a few hours of use, there would not be enough power left to receive and to send voice, but with TIAM and saving battery power, we will always know where the carrier is. All Elaiza has to do is carry the device strapped on her hip, and we will know the precise path she has followed; we will see every footstep taken. Her Singapore trip data helped us calibrate the device.”

Thornton was interested now and asked Hayes, “How do you achieve that kind of accuracy? If you call in artillery, we want you to be right on target.” Thornton knew artillery and what even one volley of 105mm rounds could do to a hillside or a town. Air Force munitions were even more powerful.

“While in operation, the device continuously sends a signal that our satellites covering the South Pacific will pick up. Of course you will know
approximately
where you are on the ground from your map reconnaissance, but we will see every step you have made on our computer maps in the embassy.”

“But how would we communicate a target's location? You only know
my
position.” Elaiza wanted to be sure she was not considered expendable cannon fodder.

“You will draw a line on the ground with your footsteps. You would only need to walk back and forth on a straight line pointing toward the target. If you call for a fire mission, first walk a small, two-meter circle on the end of an imaginary arrow where the feather would be. Along the arrow, take one step to the right to make a notch on the line for each fifty meters in front of the arrow head to pinpoint the target.” Hayes explained in simple terms how to use the TIAM. “We will take out any target you point out to us this way. Drawing the circle will call for a fire
mission. After you have identified it, we will take it out within three minutes, if we have the right aircraft in position and target approval. No need to communicate further; just get down and cover your head. Better, get out of the way as far as you can by moving perpendicular to the line of the arrow. The TIAM will track your movement.”

“Knowing what will be coming down, you can expect to see some rapid movement along the perpendicular.” Thornton would heed the major's warning if the time came.

“And it still looks like an iPod.” Hayes, the technician, was proud of his work.

“
My
iPod,” Elaiza continued to jab at Hayes for not telling her what she was carrying to Singapore. “And what is this target you're talking about?

Thornton liked that they were becoming a team, knew they could be starting down a dangerous path. She needed to know. “I've signed on with General Hargens to take out one Turk who is carrying some cash to Kumander Ali. I'll take care of him when the time is right. You track him with that thing in case we need help.”

“Well, I guess that's it then.” Hayes escorted the two STAGCOM operatives upstairs to the glass door and shook hands with Elaiza, slapped Thornton on the back and said as a farewell, “See you in the field.”

“Not today.” Thornton held the door open for Elaiza. “We first have to locate the Turk before we can get the cash. Try to get us some use-able intelligence.”

“I'm working on it. I'll get back to you when I have something. You two get busy. You need to find some muscle for your operation, some muscle the others at the embassy don't need to hear about.” Hayes waved a goodbye to them both.

Elaiza picked up her reconfigured iPod and buckled it back on her hip.

Standing in the street, Thornton and Elaiza had to wait a few minutes until his driver showed up with Thornton's well-worn Pajero. They now saw each other in a new light. They had to work together on this unusual assignment, and they didn't know each other. Thornton broke the ice. “Let's check you out of your hotel. You can stay at my place in Toril while you're in Mindanao, lots of rooms there, and my staff takes
care of everything. It will save you bouncing back and forth into the city in a jeepney every day while we get set up, and it will make our work a lot easier. Tomorrow we can find the muscle Hargens says you control.”

“OK with me, Kapitan Tomas.” Elaiza parodied his name, a gentle poke at his ego, and got into the air-conditioned vehicle, content to get out of the humid early evening heat.

M
ahir had time to think as they moved. He was not seen as a leader in his community back in Turkey, but rather as a mechanic. His role in this country with the Abu Sayaf would continue to evolve after they had attracted some attention, especially if their first mission proved successful. Then friends and enemies alike would take him very seriously. He was honored to have been asked by Lateef to go with him and Ugly Maria on a special assignment.

In the early evening twilight, the raiding party reached the cement factory where there was a large stock of dynamite that the company used to blast for raw materials and also sold to some of their customers in the construction business. The attackers set themselves up inconspicuously around the entrance to the factory and waited for the night; they would not need guns for this job, only knives and hand tools.

At the front gate of the factory, unlucky Carlito “Lito” Perias was the security guard on duty. While two part-timers worked in the back after
normal hours to load a truck, he sat propped up on a plastic chair at the gate, quite a handsome figure in his neatly pressed navy blue pants and starched white uniform shirt with a badge created by the security agency to make him look official. A girl from the village sat beside him until it got late, fanning him with a hand-made reed fan. She was beautiful, almost seventeen, one of the village girls with dreams, her wildest one to marry a uniformed security guard, a professional of substance who earned the equivalent of six dollars a day, a good potential provider. After evening turned to night, her mother walked by and picked her up, both of them dreaming of how good life could be if the girl would someday marry Carlito. He was their hero.

From their position, the Abu Sayaf attack squad watched Lito for a while. Behind him in the yard, a scrawny worker loaded a flatbed truck. His co-worker inside the warehouse would stack an eighty-pound sack of cement onto his head, and he would balance it and carry it, hands free, out of the warehouse and drop it onto the bed of the truck. They loaded the whole vehicle this way. The workers did not notice the two men and a squat third person crawling up to the gate.

Maria wanted to kill Lito. But Lateef thought it would be more useful to keep him with the patrol, alive, as he could serve as a useful ruse. As the factory's security guard, he might be suspected of being the perpetrator of the theft of the dynamite and the truck it was being loaded into.

Lateef and Mahir advanced into the yard and killed the two laborers just as they finished loading the truck. It was easy. Each took one of the tired workers from behind and used his knife to finish off his target quickly.

Lito became Ugly Maria's special guest. As soon as he came around, he began muttering never-ending prayers to Jesus, which did not endear him to his Muslim captors and simply bored Ugly Maria. Lateef made him drive the empty flatbed truck stolen from the yard. They put a gag over Lito's mouth, to get some relief from his babbling, and while he drove, Lito looked at Ugly Maria with fear, though she thought he was admiring her. The patrol moved into hiding before dawn.

The third night after Mahir's arrival in Mindanao, Lateef repositioned his command outside General Santos City, near Digos, preparing to make the next move to an attack position nearer Davao City, 125 kilometers farther north. They stopped for food and San Miguel beer at
an open
ihaw ihaw
that provided television for entertainment, the volume turned loud to show the quality of the sound system. They ordered rice with
viand
, the
viand
being whatever fish or meat, or possibly only a vegetable, was available in the kitchen. Some of the men watched a soap opera on TV and the exaggerated and romantic stories made them giggle. Mahir could not follow the dialog, so he studied the surroundings in silence. Two young girls were quietly working in the kitchen, preparing the food. They were solicitous toward Lateef, who obviously had been here many times and knew everyone in the restaurant. Mahir watched the girls move and felt pleasurable awakenings within himself as they circled about the kitchen in tight, ankle-length skirts and sleeveless blouses, their faces covered for religious reasons.

Lateef announced that they would spend the night here, and after evening prayers, ordered more rounds of beer and a bottle of brandy. Two of the younger Abu Sayaf warriors, pleasantly drunk, put a video CD in the machine and started singing along with old Beatles songs.

Mahir sat quietly in the dark and as the night wore on, the restaurant work stopped and the staff joined the videoke party. The two girls grew quiet, and as the others grew louder they moved closer to where Mahir was sitting in silence. They conversed easily with Mahir in English, and after they become comfortable, one asked, “How do you like working for Lateef?” Obviously, they were a part of his support structure.

Mahir was cautious in his reply. “I haven't been with him long. I don't know him well.”

“We have known him since we were children,” one of the girls said.

Mahir had difficulty telling them apart in the dark, and asked, “Are you sisters? Do you work here?”

“Yes, to both of your questions,” the other girl replied from the nearer darkness beside him. It was warm and humid. They dropped their veils to talk to the new warrior. “I am the older, but only by ten minutes. This place was our father's until a soldier from the Manila army killed him. Our mother runs it now—this is all we have, except for what Lateef gives us.”

“We're happy that you will help us with our war,” the younger sister said to Mahir from the other side of the table they were now sharing. Mahir was surprised that they were aware of Lateef's mission, and he must have evidenced suspicion in his silence.

“We know who you are. We were told to say our names to you and that you would understand.”

Mahir was shocked. Could others spot him as easily and ruin his mission? Why did Lateef not have this under control? While he was thinking, he looked at them again. The twins suddenly seemed to be more grown up.

“Don't worry,” the one beside him said, “we were told to tell you that if anything goes wrong, this is the place you should find your way back to. We are the answer to your question to him.”

Mahir thought back to his request of Sheik Kemal and the cryptic response he received, something about a green stone and a white flower. “Then what is the answer to my question?”

The answer from across the table was Jade and the nearer one told him Jasmine, and Mahir realized he had received the message from Sheik Kemal that he had been waiting for. His family was safe and the first installment had been received by them.

Lost in thought, Mahir looked around him. The younger warriors had returned to the stolen truck, and Ugly Maria was asleep on the floor, snoring and slobbering over the two duffel bags. Lito, still bound, had fallen asleep on a bench. The small TV was tuned to a game show that Mahir could not understand. When Lateef started to nod off, he found a corner to sleep in, leaving Mahir alone at the table with the two girls.