Rebels of Mindanao (39 page)

“You mean rape and pillage?” she teased him back.

Thornton got up to make early morning coffee on the fire outside the hut. One of Elaiza's young nieces brought boiled rice in a big black pot directly to a table where fresh bananas, mangos, and pineapples were already laid out. Elaiza joined them, and Reymundo brought over an oval platter he had to use both hands to carry, stacked with pork he had fried, and put it in the middle of the table for all to share.

After the breakfast, Thornton loaded the borrowed jeep by himself. He and Elaiza, the last remaining members of the deactivated STAGCOM team, would be returning to Davao City. They carried only a small bag of personal items and left behind in the village equipment they would not need in their future plans; someone would make good use of it.

It took a while for Elaiza to say goodbyes to her family. It would be some time until they would meet again, and then life and the world would be different. Thornton was already in the vehicle with the motor running when she jumped in. In the early morning hours it was not unbearably hot yet, and the fresh breeze was welcome. They drove back to the hardtop road, then south, following the main highway past Elaiza's old schoolhouse and later the dirt road leading toward the sea to the east and the place of her birth. There were no NPA blockades now. The Philippine Army checkpoints were manned by men who were awake and looking like real soldiers, clean-pressed uniforms with all the buttons buttoned and rifles with clips inserted. Security had returned to Surigao del Sur, if not yet stability.

After a few hours of bouncing along the road, they passed the dam on the Agusan and later “Roasted Chickens.” The trip was eerily similar to the time Elaiza had taken Kapitan Tomas on their first journey to the interior. It seemed so long ago, but had been only a few weeks.

By the grave, she took his hand this time, and he scratched his head again on the same branch sticking out over the path. “See, my mother is reaching out to touch you.” She smiled, and then was surprised. Over her mother's grave was a large, white tombstone, elegantly engraved “Victoria Payen Otakan.” Elaiza was puzzled, and paced around the headstone, glancing back at a pleased Thornton between paces.

“What is this for?” she asked, seeing a metal door on the rear of the stone.

“Hum, let's check it out.” Thornton himself was not sure what they would find in the compartment, if anything. He came around to the back and worked the combination lock. The lock opened, and it was there, one almost full duffel bag. “We better get this to Davao.”

“My mother can finally rest in peace.” Elaiza helped Thornton carry the bag up the path to be sure he would not scratch his head again.

The rest of the way south there were no text messages of disaster this time, only a courteous greeting from Hargens by cell phone. “I see you two are in Agusan.”

“You got us, Luke. Maybe we'll shut off the TIAM.”

“Ha.” Hargens chuckled. “Doesn't matter now. Liu and the Filipinos are mopping up. So, somebody got Kumander Ali, and you got the Turk after all. Did you get
it?”

“We can talk about
it
sometime.”

“Can the two of you come up to Manila for a debriefing Wednesday? I'll buy.” It was not really an invitation, and not quite an order. Hargens could not order Thornton to do anything, but it was more an assumption. “Fly up tonight, do the town, rest up.” Hargens thought it would be no imposition. “I'll arrange for your hotel bill to be handled as a government expense. I've got something to talk to you about.”

“Can we do it, Elaiza?” Thornton asked. “Let's just go right now.”

“Sure, why not, we're already in travel mode, and I can take a long bath just as easily in Manila. Besides, they have shops in Makati where I can get anything I need.” Elaiza was ready for the next adventure.

“OK Luke, we're on our way.”

“Roger. See you tomorrow.”

Thornton finished with Hargens and called his travel agent in Davao City to book one-way tickets for himself and Elaiza. What the hell, he
thought, and booked first class tickets all the way not just to Manila but onward to LAX, Los Angeles International Airport. First-class sounded good to him. After all, they had something to celebrate, and surely it would be personally rewarding to hear Hargens' insights and to spend a few hours with him before he flew back to DC. Thornton and Hargens might not meet again for a long time, if ever. You never know.

“Then one stop on the way to the airport.” Thornton started to drive a little too fast.

“Let me guess, Union Bank on Bangoy Street?”

“You got it. We have a heavy bag to leave with Joel. Don't want to haul it along to Manila; rather put it all in a bank vault.”

Thornton parked near the bank on Bangoy Street in front of an onion wholesaler; the sweet-sour smell of the merchant's inventory was not unpleasant, and waited while the guard helped Elaiza into the bank, carrying a large, olive-drab canvas bag.

She was back in a half-hour. “Did you get it all counted and deposited?” Thornton asked.

“Not enough time to count it exactly, but we guess about two and a half million.

“Good enough. Starke hardly took any for himself, maybe a few thousand. Let Joel count it.”

“He will. He put the bag in the vault and locked himself in with it. He's sure to be in there for quite a while. Over the next week, he'll put it into seven different accounts for us, three here at Union Bank, and two for each of us in The Bank of the Philippines. Some accounts in my name and some in yours.”

“Perfect. When we get wherever we're going, we can make transfers of less than ten grand at a time to stay under everybody's radar screen for money laundering.”

“Which, by the way, Tomas, we are not doing. We are completely legal.” Elaiza did not want Thornton to get involved with anything sticky, not anymore, and not to get any wrong ideas about her after all this together. “I just wanted to remind you we have done nothing bad. And now we'll be OK for a long time.”

“You're right. I just want to avoid international electronic snoops. Anyway, I have a credit card with a big limit and first-class tickets
waiting for us at the airport. We can go a long way. And maybe we can do some good things.” He surprised himself when he said it.

They dropped the jeep off at a Task Force Davao checkpoint at the entrance to the airport; Liu would get it back eventually. They were early for their unplanned flight.

In Manila, it was a short taxi ride to the Paco Park Hotel. “Your General Hargens only reserved one room for us,” Elaiza noted when they checked in.

“He has great sources of intelligence, part of his job spec,” Thornton teased, and took Elaiza by her arm, his casual touch calming her while they walked up the two flights of steps to the first floor of the hotel and circled around the pool to their room. The bellman looked suspiciously at the two guests who had no luggage.

Alone in the early evening with nothing planned, they took a long shower and then sat by the open window, warm city air drafting up as the first street lights came on, sharing a cool Australian white wine served from a carafe on the table. Elaiza even took a sip. Finally they had time to talk. He told her about a time the previous April when he had spent a long weekend in Manila visiting Colonel Liu, lasting into the May Day weekend. It was obvious the way he told the story that they had had fun catching up. Thornton called Liu his best student, and Liu made Thornton sing old German army songs with him at parties, songs sung badly, but with good pronunciation.

“Tomas, your involvement with Colonel Liu and his friends makes you too visible. Better stay off everyone's radar screen,” Elaiza said.

“It's OK. Develops contacts for my business.” Thornton thought it was no big deal.

“Hanging out with those old generals serves no purpose, other than to satisfy your ego.” How could she build a life with him? He would always put himself in danger of being kidnapped or eliminated. And where would that leave her? Lovingly, she told him specifically what she was worried about.

“But you work for the embassy. That makes
you
involved too,” Thornton rejoined, not following her logic.

“I
did work
for the embassy. I
had
a job I was proud of. With Hayes gone, who's my boss now? I haven't heard from anyone lately. Anyway,

I'm not involved with the ‘Generals of Manila' as you pretend to be.” Elaiza was concerned that Thornton was about to get involved again in dangerous activities and drag her along with him. Their new life could be idyllic if he would just settle down. But that was not like him: he would need to do what he called the “right things.”

“I agreed with Hargens to locate the Turk. We did that,” Thornton said. “That was all. Now, no more need for the Schloss Code and such games. The Filipinos have the NPA in their sights. We have nothing more to report.”

“So you're done.”

“We'll see. Anyway, we've got the money and we're not going to give it back, no matter what Hargens tells us tomorrow.”

“I wish none of this had happened, that no one had died, except maybe that Turk.” Elaiza had had enough of this line of conversation.

Intoxicated neither by booze nor drugs but only by soft music, memories, and the uncertainties of lives always too brief, Elaiza slid into bed and pulled a thin sheet over her head. Thornton left her alone for a while, then sat down beside her and massaged her feet to calm her. One thing led to another until mey were both asleep.

The next morning Thornton woke early and looked at Elaiza sleeping. Her bare body was clean, unmutilated by piercings or tattoos. Tennis and Tae Kwon Do had burned off any body fat she might have had, with only a bit visible as one feminine curve just below her abs under her tight brown skin, skin that was the same color and texture from head to toe, her only tan lines, not really tan but latte, visible where she wore wrist supports when she played tennis. She had showered the night before in herbal essences, and in the dampness of the warm morning breeze the scent of her hair was enhanced by her slight perspiration, mingled with a few lingering drops of
Innocent Angel
. Thornton hoped she would not wake for a while. “Give me a full body hug” were her first words when she looked up sleepily. They missed the hotel's buffet breakfast.

On their way to the embassy, they walked single file with Elaiza leading the way. It was easier and faster in the city to move in a column formation of two, just as they had in the jungle. The sidewalks were constricted by beggars and peddlers intruding into the right of way, but the
encroachers were less insistent with their sales pitches when Elaiza was leading. She could tell them, “No, thank you” in a courteous way, while Thornton would not always be so polite. It was still better to walk than to take a taxi. The streets were already noisy and hot, the traffic smoky and congested. They crossed Paco Park and continued all the way to the plaza in front of Manila City Hall. As there were no benches or cafes offering a place to sit in the open and empty square, they squatted Asian style on the periphery of the plaza and ordered fried bananas, served on bamboo sticks from a sidewalk snack stand, and talked.

After they had eaten, Thornton felt an uncommon uncertainty surge through his system. He had no answers to the questions Elaiza had raised again about their future, and that bothered him. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed a gracefully carved stone water fountain, and to give him time to contemplate, walked over to it to read the faded, weather-worn inscription: “The First Cavalry Division reached this point in March 1945.” The First Cav had been Thornton's unit in Vietnam in 1967. Vietnam was long ago and forgotten, with no meaning to this generation in this country or maybe in any other country now, and the Second World War, which had rescued the Philippine Islands from the Japanese, was probably not remembered by the last two generations. At what point in history do past events cease to matter? He walked back to where Elaiza was still squatting and said to her, “You're right. Many events we can't control. God grant us the wisdom to accept them. Let's walk on to the embassy. They should be open by now. We'll figure it out. By the time we get there, they'll be ready for us.”

At the American Embassy they were cleared quickly through security checks by the military police team at the gate to the political section and sat down side by side on an uncomfortable old wooden bench. It wasn't long until a marine corporal opened the big glass door leading to a broad hallway and motioned them to follow him to General Hargens' office.

The world had not changed much since the Philippine Army had put an end to the civil war in Mindanao, and that was good, but worthy lives had been lost or permanently changed. Countries like Venezuela, Russia, and France were having their own internal troubles, the war in the Philippines was seldom mentioned in these countries, and the Middle East hardly cared about a civil war in outpost Mindanao.