My Kind of Town
>> Manila Independence Day
As the Philippine Airlines Airbus lifted into the air, Muhammed Resurreccion picked up a newspaper, noticed the date and smiled. In the U.S. it was July 4 -- Independence Day. He knew that Americans could appreciate his people's struggles for independence. Like the American colonists, the Muslims of the southern Philippines suffered taxation without representation, and certainly without respect from Queen Gloria or King Erap before. Yes, Americans would understand. That's why America's 50th state would be the perfect place to make his statement.
Muhammed wondered which date in history would become his people's Independence Day. That day was coming. It was inevitable because it was right. It was also inevitable because oil wealth from the Middle East quietly fueled Infitada Inc., which was covering the cost of this trip, as well as the 2 million pesos he'd just left behind with colleagues in Manila to support the bombing and kidnapping campaigns in the capital. For sure, Muhammed thought, the date of the second attack on sacred American soil would become as famous as the first.
>> Ewa Beach
Wilhemina Mercado was instructed to rent a white van. When their valued guest landed, she was to pick him up in a vehicle that would blend in. But the rental car agencies she called had every imaginable color other than white. So she called her cousin Rey, through whom the instructions had come.
"This isn't the Philippines, you know," she said. "You want to blend in, better rent something like silver or maroon or blue, like plenny people get." Rey said he'd get back to her, further proof that he was not running this show.
Wilhemina would mention this in her next call, to a man who had given her a cell phone just for that purpose. He also gave her the name Sandy. When this was all over, she was going to change her name legally to Sandy, the name that proved her allegiance to her new country. But for now, Sandy must remain a secret. If Rey and the others knew about Sandy, Wilhemina would be dead.
>> Portlock
The three big guys in the black SUV had been tailing Mickey all day on this traditional aufogo. And now he was inside a house. He'd walked up to the door, tried the handle and, son of a gun, it opened.
"So what you think?" Seth said from the passenger seat of the black SUV. "This could take awhile."
"That's OK," said Wili, his cousin in the back seat. "The longer we wait, the more he's gonna hurt."
Don Chapman is editor of MidWeek.
His serialized novel runs daily in the Star-Bulletin
with weekly summaries on Sunday.
He can be emailed at dchapman@midweek.com