HELD IN CHECK
END OF THE SHAOLIN
A Chinese destroyer was the sole occupant
of the North Harbor docks. Earlier in the day, it was an instrument of war
pompously floating toward the empty harbor. Two hours before midnight, it was
flotsam tossed and thrashed by the raging waters. It gave the impression of a
captured animal trying to break free of its bonds; pitching and rolling without
direction. Chains and ropes dock workers attached to the hull kept them firmly
in place. But since the procedure was not meticulously performed, moorings were
loosely connected; allowing the vessel to lurch repeatedly. Officers and
sailors, on deck and at the bridge, shrieked like passengers on a roller
coaster ride as the sea flung them about. The wildly churning motions induced
so much vomiting that the crew would have been mistaken for a new race of
humans. If the Sino-Asians were branded as “yellow”; the men on board were a
shade of algae.
Three hundred meters out to sea, three launches
sped toward the warship. Other than the drivers, each boat was occupied by six
men in dark camouflaged uniforms; armed with automatic rifles slung on their
shoulders. The drivers were accustomed to such torrential weather conditions
that their approach was completed without much effort. With skillful coordination,
the speed boats managed to get close enough to the hull without colliding. Each
time the boats managed a reasonable distance; the armed men took turns firing
grappling hooks at the bowsprit and ascend by the same. The incessant deluge and non-illuminated evening sky enhanced the clandestine nature of the operation. Not
to mention the power outage caused by damaged electrical lines at various
locations in the city. The vessel was not steady long enough for search lights
to settle on anything specific. Sailors on the watch were bent over puking
their dinner; unable to fix their sights beyond the gunwale.
The first assailants on the deck
eliminated any nearby potential hostiles with silencer-equipped handguns.
Sporadic bursts of gunfire ensued immediately after all the assailants were on
board.
An unmarked PT boat was anchored at an
inconspicuous distance from the shore. It tilted at different angles but
managed to right itself and remain afloat. By the pale red glow of the bridge, navigators
could be seen fervently working at maintaining their position. At the foremost
section, a man with a built frame and cleanly-shaved head was braced against a
console; holding a pair of binoculars to his eyes and observing the onslaught.
The old man eased his stance when the
people left his room. His shoulders were haunched as he made for the window of
his suite. The continuous thrumming of the rain added to his anxiety which
anger, disappointment, and self-reproach brought. These, in turn, were caused
by a recent encounter with an individual he thought extremely impertinent.
However, he also blamed himself for having underestimated the person. It was
not as easy as he expected it to be. His frustration was now causing some
physical discomfort. There was a hint of tension in his chest: symptom of a few
previous heart failures. It came whenever he was in an emotionally stressed
condition.
Standing by the window, he strained his
eyes and took in as much of the scenery his vision and the downpour allowed him
to see. Looking farther out at Luneta Park, he caught the Rizal Monument in the
glow of halogen lamps at its base. Having read historical accounts of the
national hero; he consoled himself with the belief that insolence was the customary
trait of Filipinos. Yes. And perhaps even the Spanish would share his
sentiments, he thought. But compared to the educated and cultured revolutionary,
the fellow he met earlier was, in his opinion, an existing specimen of more prehistoric
times. One other issue which constantly nagged at his pride was the flippancy
the fellow evinced by providing him accomodation at a venue reputed to be a
‘photo bomber’.
There was a brief surge of pain in his
chest when he was infuriated by that reality. He composed himself by taking
deep breaths to ease the physical aspect of his suffering. As he placated himself,
his cellphone rang, causing him jump in surprise. He grabbed it and curtly
acknowledged the call. As he listened to the voice on the other line; there was
pallor on his countenance. He heard screams in the background; howls of agony
and death accompanied by the discernible rattle of gunfire. A grunt and the
sudden silence of the caller ended the conversation. His eyes widened in
shocked disbelief and, in the ensuing period; he became casualty to a heart
attack.
A police dispatcher on duty at the Western
Police District station was unnerved by the information he received. He was
accustomed to emergency calls and reports of heinous crimes. That evening proved
to be a boring one however; because the typhoon which battered the mainland
kept the phones silent. There were no people asking for help, or requests sent
by mobile teams. But when he received a call giving information regarding the death
of a foreign delegate, whatever ennui he felt vanished. He hurriedly contacted
the PNP Chief to share information of the incident. Done relaying the details,
the reaction he got was a passive inquiry: “Ngayon, ano ang problema?” (*)
________
*”So now, what’s the problem?”
CALM AFTER THE STORM
The
waters at Manila Bay were moderately tolerable the following morning compared
to that of the evening. The residual weather dsiturbance caused waves to
intermittently smash at the shoreline along Roxas Boulevard exacerbating the
condition of Baywalk; its expanse strewn with garbage deposited from the seas Informal
settlers who made their homes along the location began scavenging for scraps
they could barter at junk shops and recycling factories. One of them straightened
his posture to assuage the ache in his back. He unwarily had crouched too long
while pilfering amidst the litter. Extending his gaze toward the water, he
caught site of a ship floating at an unreasonable close distance from the
shore. He thought it strange that any such vessel would be within the vicinity,
as the coast guard had not yet allowed any navigational operations to take
place; for safety measures. What seemed more bizarre was the fact that the ship
had a slight tilt to it posture.
“Ano yun?”
(1) the man inquired loudly, pointing toward the floating hulk of metal. His
companions followed the direction of his gesture and saw what he was referring
to.
“Eh, di
barko. Ano pa ba ‘yan?” (2) a sarcastic
reply was heard.
“Diba
pinagbawal pumalaot dito mga barko gawa nga nung bagyo?” (3) the man rebutted.
Another
of his fellow scavengers stood beside him and suspiciously glared at the
floating object, “Wag mo na pag aksayahan ng oras yan, pare. Masyadong malayo
para gawin nating kalakal.” (4)
A pedestrian
who happened by, halted his routine trot just behind the pilferers. He was a
dock worker on his day off. He saw the two men staring out to sea and followed
the direction of their gaze. Unobtrusively, he walked amidst the scavengers then,
upon nearing them, strained his eyes toward the floating wreckage. When a passing
wave lifted the ship’s prow, he noticed a red ensign painted on its side then
announced to no one in particular:
“Yung mga
Intsik yan!” (5) With an insensitively sarcastic grin, he continued, “Buti nga
sa kanila; ang kakapal ng mukhang sapilitan kasi pumalaot kahapon.” (6)
One of the scavengers who acknowledged his
words shouted a suggestion for all to hear: “Kung ganun pala, ano pa hinihintay
natin? Baka meron tayong maaarkilang bangka.” (7)
(1) “What is that?”
(2) “It’s a ship. What else would it be?”
(3) “Weren’t the ships forbidden to land here
because of the storm?”
(4) “Don’t waste time on that, friend. It’s too far
for us to sell as scrap”
(5) “Those are the Chinese.”
(6) “Good for them; too audacious to force a
landing yesterday.”
(7) “If that’s the case, what else are we waiting
for? Maybe we can rent a skiff.”
24 HOURS, REWOUND
The early
signs of an impending storm were becoming manifest everywhere. Cables and
antennaes were constantly swaying in the air. Sporadic bouts of drizzle battered
the panes. The sky was a shade of grey transposing into the color of soot with
occasional bursts of thunder and lightning. Though it was just past noon, the
current situation could have been mistaken for dusk, or the dawn of the
Apocalypse. She was staring out the window at the manifestations of an upcoming
typhoon but did not seem to be aware of it. What occupied her was an anxiety
she suppressed by biting her lower lip. This was not caused by these
unfavorable conditions. Rather it was due to the fact that her personal agenda
had been compromised.
After
PAG-ASA confirmed the entry of a typhoon on the southern regions of Luzon,
television networks broadcast the information over the previous evening news.
The dialogue between the president and the consul from the People’s Republic of
China set for the following day was promptly canceled. The Chinese ambassador
was sent a memo informing him of the cancellation and rescheduling of the
meeting. As a member of the presidential retinue for such events, it became
apparent that there would be no need for her to go to work the next day. As
with most urban professional making their own way in life, when their
occupation does not preoccupy their minds; sentimentality kicks in. So she
called her family announcing that she would be paying them a visit on her
presumed ‘free day’. The furlough was dissolved by a call from her employer at
the Department of Foreign Affairs demanding her presence at work.
An hour
before she was contacted, a Chinese destroyer sailed into North Harbor
unannounced. As it was, the consul had ignored the faxed memo sent the recent
evening, and acquired permission to commandeer a naval warship to take him to
the Philippines. Just past 9:00 AM the following morning, the vessel made its
presence felt by sirens and a few gun blasts aimed out to sea. It was a spitefully
pompous landing from the viewpoint of the dock workers; their ire aggravated
when the captain arrogantly demanded that they be allowed to dock even if
operations were called off for that day.
As the
harbor employees scrambled to attend to the loathsome visitors, so did the
concerned branches of the government. Now, she found herself in a conference
room at Malacañan
Palace with other foreign relations personnel; impatiently awaiting conclusion
of a tense, yet modest, discussion between the president and the visiting
diplomat.
An
incident had recently occurred at the South China Sea-or West Philippine Sea,
as the Filipinos deemed appropriate-wherein passengers of a Philippine tourist
ferry were caught in a cross fire between the Chinese and Philippine coast
guard. The tourist vessel en route to the Scarborough Shoals suffered minor
damages which kept it stalled in the middle of the sea. Philippine and Chinese
patrol vessels responded to the distress call. Chinese crew men were demanding
the Filipinos tow the ferry away from the area before conducting repairs since
they believed the two foreign vessels had unlawfully entered an area in which
the Philippines had no jurisdiction. As the Filipino sailors were beginning
procedures to comply, a spry passenger on the ferry snatched a toy gun from a
nearby toddler-a replica of a 357 Magnum-and aimed it at the Chinese ship in a
gesture of mockery. A handful of Chinamen mistook this move for aggression and
opened fire; with the idiotic precept that these were pirates under the farce
of tourists. Men on the Philippine cutter returned fire to protect their countrymen,
and a cross fire ensued. In the brief instance before commanding officers on
both sides called a cease fire, numerous persons on the ferry had died or were
severely injured.
She
thought: if the slant-eyed bastards were noble enough to have respected the
decision of the United Nations concerning territorial disputes, all these would
not have happened. She would be spending quality time with her family instead
of feigning hospitable expressions. Her frustration was augmented by a renowned
anchorman who had infrequent coughing fits which, after every episode, he instinctively
excused himself for. The only time she found any consolation was when the talks
were about to conclude; and the president beckoned her to approach him. He
seemed frustrated at having wasted time over pointless talks which reached no
compromise or agreement. Knowing that she was adeptly fluent at various foreign
languages, he turned beyond earshot of the diplomat and whispered, “Ano ba ang
‘putang ina mo’ sa Fukien?” (*)
It was
obvious the president, with his reputed belligerent attitude, was going to have
his way with his counterpart. Her upper body jerked slightly as she pressed her
lips together; concealing any signs of amusement. It was practical to behave
with modesty whenever one was within sight of extremely conservative people
like the Chinese. Reprovingly wagging her index finger, she playfully muttered:
“A little diplomacy, sir.”
After the
attendants began to disperse, she informed the president that the currernt adverse
weather conditions made it necessary for them to provide accomodations for the
ambassador. The delegate and his retinue remained standing a few feet away; the
looks on their faces insinuated they were expecting such appropriate treatment.
Having received the president’s consent to billet the visitors at the ‘photo
bomber’ (**), she inquired about the men at the docked warship.
The
president waved his hand dismissively and assured her that the PNP chief already
had instructions to attend to the seamen.
*”What is ‘son of a bitch’ in Fukien?”
**Anything that spoils a scene in a photograph
CLEARING THE AIR
As was
routine with regards to intriguing circumstances, the Philippine media
exhibited its potential at acquiring information and making it public in the
shortest amount of time. The lifeless body of the Chines ambassador had been
discovered by a housekeeper and a guest relations officer who entered his hotel
suite after repeated wake-up calls were not answered. His death was cofiirmed as
the outcome of a cardiac arrest. Three hours later that morning, plebeian scavengers
made statements at the Western Police District station regarding slaughtered
naval servicemen aboard a vessel floating incongruously along the waters of
Baywalk. It fell upon the shoulders of the Presidential Spokesperson to give a
public announcement concerning the matter. A news network requested an interview
that evening which he granted; so there would be no need for the hassles of
hiring a speech writer and public relations personnel.
He sat
across a well-known anchorwoman before a studio crew attending to lighting and
cameras. There were make–up artists standing among the even if their services
were already done with. A detail of police officers were positioned behind the
set for security purposes and the safety of the speaker. The spokeperson took
all these in; and prepped himself up as the host initiated the conversation;
raising the topic of the recent deaths of a foreign personality and naval
servicemen.
“The
Philippine government extends its sincerest regrets and sympathy to the Peoples
Republic of China concerning recent passing of the dignified ambassador and the
men aboard the Chong-Kee...”
Before he could continue with his diplomatic
statement, the reporter interrupted him.
“Kee-Zhiong, Mr. Speaker”, she corrected. “The Chinese vessel is called
Kee-Zhiong.”
He
chuckled with feigned embarrassment, “Oh, yes, yes. Forgive me. It is just that
the thought of all these occuring on Philippine soil has caused me some
perturbation. It is rather, how shall we say, embarrasing that these good men
died under such cirucmstances; given that there were conflicting issues between
our countries. And even if the talks yesterday between the president and the
ambassador did not bring favorable results for either side, the Filipinos are
very meticulous about international relations and the correct protocol of
carrying them out. This is extremely tragic for both parties, I must admit.” He
shook his head for more sincere effect.
“That is
agreeble” interjected the host, “They lost a respected political offical and
honorable militarymen; and the Phiippines has become a potential target for detractions
by Chinese sympathizers; not to mention suspect to what happened in our
territory.”
The
spokesperson raised a hand in defense, “Please, wait a moment. It is true that
we: China and the Phiippines, have an on-going dispute about the West
Philippine Sea. But that does not mean we deserve to be suspected for causing
the deaths of foreign individuals because…” There was a sudden pause in his
speech as he stared musingly at the anchorwoman “Siya nga pala; hindi ba ikaw
yung papuring sinipulan ni Mr. President?” (*)
“Sir, you
flatter me”, she snickered, “pero yun yung mas batang chiquita sa kabila.” The
humorous episode lasted for less than ten seconds then the news anchor reverted
to a serious demeanor. “Returning to the issue of presupposed acts of violence;
the current administration does have a reputation for the practice of severe
and extra-judicial methods against crime. The president also was linked to what
is publicly known as ‘death squads’. Is it possible that such abhorrent
violence carried out on the Chinese servicemen were the actions of these
factions?”
He
guffawed and gently slapped his thigh; insinuating the absurdity of her
question “I have known the president for a long time, I can guarantee you. He
does have a rather brash personality and he is not a very conservative person
when it comes to expressing his thoughts. Back when he was governor of General
Santos, he took measures to decrease the crime rate and wage a war against drug
syndicates. Measures that many people shall deem as extreme or unorthodox; but
let me assure you that it was completely within the boundaries of the law”.
He dipped
his finger against the armchair to emphasize the veracity of his words. “These
so called ‘death squads’ are the fabrications of overly imaginative minds from
opposing parties. Before he was elected, it was called the ‘Gen-San death
squad’. Now, probably it will be the ‘Malacañan death squad’; the ‘Presidential death squad’; you name
it.”
A dismissive wave of a hand suggested the
inanity of his narrated assumptions. “If the law enforces at present may seem harsh
with their means of procedures; and they are occasionally accused for the
deaths of numerous drug operatives; I will attest-on my pride and honor-the
fact that these men perform their duties legally, and righteously. And they are
not sadistically violent people.”
There was a thin, self-assured smile on his
lips as he spoke. He winced and inconspicuously shifted his gaze toward the
direction of the PNP chief standing behind the set; aloof from the detail of
police officers under his command. He nodded at the man but received no
acknowledgment in return.
The police chief stood at parade rest
clutching his hat behind his waist. He had the appearance of a person nobody
messed around with; with his built frame and cleanly-shaved head.
*“By the way, aren’t you the one Mr. President gave
a whistle of praise?”
**”That was the younger lady at the other network”
END
