Chapter X: Two Sides of a Coin

Sean slowly opened his eyes and the morning chirps that seems to reverberate through the hospital corridor greeted him.

“Please close the blinds.” He appealed to the shadow that was standing right beside the window.

“Oh! I’m sorry! Good you’re awake. Are you feeling OK?” Rizniel immediately closed the blinds. “I brought you some boiled tuna hotdogs and Spanish sardines. You’re all-time favorites; Cherry made them.”

“Wow! That’s great of you! Cherry made them? She’s cooking now? Are they poisoned?” Sean joked as he straightened himself up.

“Sorry to disappoint you my friend, they’re not poisoned. Yes, she’s cooking now, not so palatable but she’s insisting on cooking the dishes, that’s always a good sign. Better enthusiastic than nothing at all, I always say.”

“Well, wish me luck! Hahaha” Sean thanked God for another day of being alive and get through his breakfast.

“Mahmoud, tell me, am I a disappointment? How am I as a Governor, friend, lover, as a person?” Mr. Concepcion fixed up his eyeglasses and looked straight to Mr. Farouk, who swallowed big knowing it is always a very serious conversation whenever the governor addressed him by his first name.

“You’re doing alright, sir! You have some slip-ups on the way, but who doesn’t? At the end of the day, you’re accomplishments far outweigh your miscalculations.” The Legislator struggled to find the right words.

“So, you’re calling my relationship with Lester a slip-up now?”

“No, Sir. That was as discreet as anyone can be. It was the hotel management’s judgment. Taping you was a very big wrongdoing, and it will cost them their young manager.” Mahmoud explained. “We believed that the tape and knowledge of your relationship with the councilor is shared only to his two close associates who were already taken care of, and we’re closing in for damage control.”

“Damage control you say? It that what you call bombing a whole residential block with the target still breathing in the hospital as we speak? It that what you call, chopping up into pieces a man and then blame it to my successor? It’s been bothering me, why is my successor in prison right now? Did you plan for Glen to answer the killings you did for me?” the Governor didn’t even wink.

“Never, Sir! With all due respect, we don’t control all the departments of the government. We can’t have everyone on our payroll. It’s too risky. We move on towards eliminating the target, anyone getting in the way is considered collateral damage. It’s a big world out there and I have no idea how Glen’s fingerprints end up in McMillan’s hand. I think Glen needs to do some explaining to us why his prints were on the man’s hand and why was he calling him from his office.”

“Was Mr. Antonio a collateral damage? You did not instruct your boys to plant these evidences?”

“No Sir!” He lied to save his ass.

“It was just a search and destroy operation, simple as 1-2-3, kill all three men who knew about the tape, destroy the evidence and we move on. What went wrong?”

“I admit there was a miscalculation at the Euclid Heights, aside from that and Glen’s involvement, we’re still on track Sir. Just give me some time.”

“OK then, if you say so. Get on with damage control and get it done fast before those boys can disseminate what they know. Plant things to exonerate Mr. Antonio, I don’t want our next governor to administrate behind bars.”

“It will be done Sir!” Mahmoud replied like a dog told to sit down.

“Thank you Mr. Farouk, your services will get you far. I will remember you when I am in Washington. You could be a great Intelligence Director you know. That will be all.” The governor dismissed the legislator.

Bob peeped at the guest area, she wasn’t there. It’s been a week since he last saw the beautiful Angel Perez dine here in their resto. She was a regular, and he was head-over-heels in love with her. The last time she saw her was when Angel requested for the corner seat away from the prying eyes of other guests. He remembered seeing an old man in athletic attire waiting for her. The waiter could not take the thought out of his mind because the old man never quite fitted into his sporty get-up. Was that out of shape elderly her lover? He almost threw up at the thought. Bob glanced around one more time, she wasn’t there still. He can wait, she’ll be back; he assured himself.

Paul, drenched in sweat in his ERUF shirt, was preparing his post-workout protein shake when his mobile phone rang. The number suggested the caller was a police officer.

“Good morning, this is Paul Rama of ERUF. What can I do for you?” he straightened his voice.

“Good morning Mr. Rama! This is Agent Lacre of CRPD, I believe we have met before in one of Mr. Gutierrez’ lavish parties. My senior partner, Mr. Collins and I would like to invite you over a coffee and some drinks if your time permits. This has something to do with the Euclid Bombing and Mr. McMillan’s murder. We think you can help us piece in the puzzles, and we really need a hand on this. We definitely would appreciate any assistance. I’m sorry I cannot divulge any more information as we are not on a secured line.”

“I would be very glad to be of help in any form Sir! I just finished my workout. I’ll be at the place in an hour and a half. Where will we meet?” Paul responded.

“Assembly point is Tranquil at the VIP lounge. See you there Mr. Rama!”

Paul wasn’t sure how he can be of aide to solve the slayings aside from the fact they were the first to be in the scene at the Euclid Heights bombing. But the part when Mr. Lacre said something about a linkage between the bombing and McMillan’s murder intrigued him more than anything else. He drank his shake made primarily of 2 scoops whey protein, 1 scoop of casein and 4 egg whites. He immediately made his way to the shower room.

“Do you think Tranquil is a good place? I mean, yeah the VIP lounge is known for its exclusivity but how about bugs or something?” Lacre asked his superior.

“You want us to sweep the whole place? You’re inviting attention! We can talk discreetly as possible; besides, the owner of that floating restaurant is one of the primaries in this investigation. It will benefit them to just shut up and not get in the way.” Dan answered with conviction that can turn an atheist go to church.

“I’m sorry Sir I think I’m lost! Who’s the owner of Tranquil?” Dennis asked sheepishly.

“Don’t you ever do your homework? You’re going to succeed me in this post and you act like a neophyte fresh out of the academy! Tranquil is owned by the Calloways! Ring a bell?”

“Oh! Sean Calloway of the Euclid Bombing fame! Now I get it!” Dennis punched his fist in the air; a perfect imitation of Mr. Bean at his dumbest.

“Send the guys over the place, make them use good disguises. I want a corner table far from inquisitive eyes and ears. Make them sit near us so other customers will be blocked from sitting in an ear shot of us. Prepare the pictures and whatever we need to discuss with Mr. Rama. Beef up the security for Mr. Calloway at the hospital, only family and close friends should be allowed inside his room.” Dan planned it all ahead.

“It will be done sir!”

Mang Pilo was sitting under an acacia tree listening to classic songs by Bread and the Eagles. It’s been almost a month since they gave that small tape in exchange for very big money. The rest of the Anunsacion brothers are urging him that they have waited enough and it’s time to go, without causing any serious stir to their friends and those who knew them. Not that they will be attracting any attention since they are just nobody’s but they have been around this cruel world long enough to know that even ants, when in numbers, can cause enough disturbance. Not to be discounted is the fact that they gave away information involving a very powerful person sitting at Malacañang.

Pilo was seriously considering of going away for good. A month’s time is already long enough and if they wait more, he’s afraid he or one of his brothers will die of hypertension. The family was very tense for a month now and they can’t wait any longer.

The eldest of the brothers called his siblings and instructed them to file their resignation effective immediately. He called Travelsure Inc. and booked a 1 way ticket to Los Angeles for every one of the Anunsacion clan. From there, he thought, we can find our own luck.

The place was as serene as its name suggested. There was light music playing and an air of sophistication engulfed the VIP Lounge of the floating restaurant. Mr. Lacre tried hard not to open his mouth in awe of the gold-plated cutlery, gigantic China vases, and waitresses who looked like they were cut out of a fashion magazine. While, Dennis was admiring the place, his senior colleague observed the place textbook style. Other customers are away from them; three tables in front of them were taken by agents posing as customers, one wearing a disguise of Adolf Hitler; small and corner table, just as he requested. It’s almost perfect.

Paul Rama, arrived within five minutes and exchanged pleasantries. The three decided to order coffee first as any alcohol might get in the way of work. Dan Collins wasted no time in educating Paul about the group Devonian and how they went out of business. The ERUF main man was an eager student. Dan went on to show the blown up pictures of the Euclid Heights and Mr. McMillan’s severed hand, point out the exact form of devon used. Paul’s jaw dropped, and Dennis Lacre beamed with smugness as if to say: “I discovered that!” Dan gave him a look.

“Wow! This is very interesting! This is like Hardy boys, Nancy Drew stuff!” Paul sounded like a teenager gay.

“Excuse me? Who are they?” Dennis asked, Dan gave a inquiring looked.

“Oh! It’s detective stuff on paperback books. I’m sorry! Well, back to this Devon thing, how can I be of help? I have no previous experience regarding detective matters.” Paul asked.

“Devonians were known to have moles holed very deep inside organizations around the world. Well at least when they were active, but now that they have resurfaced, we are not to discount the possibility that they have inside information. I want this matter to be known by a just a select few and I cannot trust my people because surely that would be the first place they will place their mole. I want you to be on this team. Are you up for the challenge?” Dan at his best voice.

“Me? Are you sure sir? Am I even qualified? Well, I don’t back out from any challenge if that’s what you want to hear but I guess I’d be learning a lot from you guys if ever I’d say yes.” Paul can hardly hide his excitement.

“Is it a yes?”

“Positive!”

“I’m looking forward working with you!” Dan Collins extended a handshake.

Adolf Hitler on the next table laughed in an obnoxious manner. He summoned the waitress for his bill.

Paul, Dan and Dennis ordered drinks.

“Good day Sir!” the junior officer greeted the statesman.

“I hope this is pleasing to the ear. What is it you have for me?”

“As instructed, we have been very critical of people going in and out the state for the last couple of months. There were about ten who were apprehended and questioned but none turned out that of which interest us.” The officer began his lengthy introduction.

“Enough with the bullshit, we are not in the plenary hall! What are you saying?” the irate statesman yelled.

“Yesterday, we received a report that five brothers filed their resignation effective immediately and the day before that they booked a flight out of the state going to the mainland. Three more of their brothers are working but no longer needs to file any resignation as one was a cab driver and two were on-call plumbers.”

“So what’s new? Who are these people?”

“They bought the tickets in cash, not just for the eight of them, but including their wives and children. 28 tickets in cold cash and I seriously doubt they can afford such with their meager jobs. Our men are already dispatched as we speak to further investigate if this is just a greener pasture kind of exodus or they’re trying to haul their asses out immediately of the state for fear of something.”

“And if they just want better jobs in the mainland?”

“I sure do hope not sir. I think there’s more to this than just looking for better pay. One of the brothers worked for Le Grimaldi.”

“Oh! I sure do hope you’re right mister or I’m gonna toast your head for making my coffee wait!”

“That is all Sir! Thank you and God Bless!” the junior officer gave a salute that was not returned.

The elderly statesman, Mr. Farouk, smiled and secretly hoped that it’s a fruitful investigation.

Chapter IX: Devon

“This is horrible!” Lynette was browsing through the newspaper while stirring her hot chocolate. She had been reading an article on the subject of the Euclid Heights bombings. Then she came across the name Sean Calloway, did not ring a bell, but a picture inset of the young businessman attracted her. He was kinda cute, she thought.

The doorbell rang. It was Paul, it’s time to hit the road for their morning jog. The sight of him was enough for Lynette to forget about the cute guy on the morning paper.

“Hey! You’re up early! Good Morning!” He gave her a peck on the cheek.

“Oh I slept early! I wanted to be ready when you arrive.” She gave him a sheepish smile.

“I see you’re reading the news too! That’s good. So what’s happening around? I was busy lately. Hardly had time to listen or read the paper.”

“Oh! Nothing, really. Except for this bombing the other day, it’s awful! Who could do such a thing?” She took a sip of her choco.

“Yeah that! We were there; it was more shocking than what’s printed in the media.” Paul boasted a little bit.

“Paper is enough for me. Wouldn’t wanna trade places with you. So are we good?”

“Ready when you are madam.” His signature replies always catch her off guard.

In seconds they were lost through the back door.

At the outskirts of Camp Rock one can find a place called the Burdox. It’s a mixture of people from different origins trying to live in harmony. The local government chose this place to put a low-cost housing project not to give assistance to the underprivileged but primarily to keep vagabonds out of uptown streets. All kinds of trade existed here, from drug trafficking, prostitution, arms smuggling to fortune telling. The diverse business cropped out of the need for money and survival. Rizniel wasn’t sure why he’s here but a worker in his hotel recommended someone who can accurately predict dreams.

He stopped in front of a white trailer and a signage in black was hanging on the front door, it says: oneiocritikoi. Whatever it means it made Rizniel hesitated and he hated himself for being here. He knocked lightly on the door.

Nothing.

He knocked again.

“Are you knocking or just trying to rub your fingers on that door?” A lady with a long curly hair appeared on the window.

“Oh! You scared me! I’m sorry. I am not used to this kind of thing. I’m sorry I bothered you. I’m going now.” He started going back to his car

“It’s keeping you occupied.” The old lady cried aloud.

“Huh? Excuse me?” Riz was perplexed.

“Your dreams! It’s bothering you. It is why you have come, is it not?”

“Uhm yes. But...” He was lost.

“Come inside.” She invited him.

He was uncertain, not sure of what to do but his feet started to move back to the trailer.

“Come in, take a sit. You want something to drink? Tea perhaps?”

“No. I’m OK, thank you. Someone told me you decipher dreams? Interpret?” Riz was cautious.

“That’s what the sign says. Isn’t it?”

“What? Oh That! Oni? Whatever... what does it mean?” Finally asking the question.

“Oneiocritikoi. In ancient Greece, that’s what they call us, “interpreter of dreams.” There are many kinds of dreams. It can be classified as a vision, second sight or plain ecstasy. None should be taken lightly. Nature cannot allow something to happen, a dream for instance, without any significance at all. If it exists, it has purpose. We believe dreams are meant to guide, tell or warn us of the future. But it cannot convey the whole situation, thus it still depends on the person on what to do with his visions.” The woman paused momentarily. “Your dream, what is it all about?”

“I see a guy in a black suit. Always the same guy, same suit. But I never saw him before, I mean, not in real life. He tried to kill two of my best friends, in my dream that is.”

“Where are your friends now?”

“One is dead, the other one almost got killed, but he survived. In my dream, he killed Sean and Raymond survived. In reality, Sean survived and Ray’s dead.” Riz wiped the sweat on his forehead. “What do you make out of it?”

“I see a switch of fate, it may signify disguise. You said you don’t know the killer and he is in black suit, brute, strong and secretive. You may actually know your friends’ assailant, someone close, a woman, exuding finesse, and her life is open to the public. Any more details?” the woman was straightforward.

“No. That’s just it. It’s a very short dream. Are you trying to tell me that the killer is in our midst?” He moved forward.

“That’s how I see your dream. It may be a cognitive unchangeable dream, and you can’t do anything about it. But I wouldn’t trust my close friends right now, if I were you.”

Riz stood up and reached for his wallet saying: “That’s impossible! I shouldn’t have come here, This is a waste of time.”

“Take your money with you young boy, you might need it to buy a friend.”

He hurriedly went back to his car.

Lieutenant Collins was looking at the picture of Raymond McMillan’s severed hand at a distance. He shifted to the left and glanced at the picture. He turned right and glanced again. He smiled, not because he was losing his mind but the photo showed something else when viewed from a distance. Up close, the finger prints of Glen Antonio that were all over the hand were all just that, fingerprints. But when viewed from a distance, the prints seemed to be arranged into a pattern. It forms into a fish. Collins could not believe his eyes. A notorious group of assassins originating in Western Europe were infamous because of their accuracy in killing targets and leaving a pattern of a fish or a token formed as a fish, thereafter. The problem, Dan thought, they were believed to have died two decades ago. Nothing was heard from them since. If there were living members of the group, they would be in their 60’s, the youngest.

This could be a copycat, remnant or a new one without knowledge of the other group. Whatever it is, Dan knew he will have his hands full for the week ahead.

Angel took a last look at the picture. It was taken at a seven-star beach resort in Zeebu in one of her happy times with deceased fiancé Raymond. A tear dropped from her left eye. She smiled and kissed the man in the picture.

“I’m so sorry honey.” She hurriedly left her condominium and went straight to the airport. She’d be in Los Angeles the next morning.

Agent Lacre was baffled with the box of evidence in the Euclid Heights bombing. A powerful C4 bomb was used in the Mercedes car and smaller home-made bombs were detonated in the 6 houses that were in the immediate vicinity of the car. It was planned to a tee including the exact location of the car as it exploded. An aerial shot of the bombing will solicit an admiration to the planner of this infamous undoing. The crime scene, as it was surrounded by a yellow police line formed what looked like a fish. The car’s powerful explosion made a huge crater in the ground, the fish’s eyes. Three houses formed the back fin, two houses formed the side fins, and Sean’s house represented the fish’s mouth. Truly, this ingenious work is a masterpiece of a professional. Someone who is so good at his craft is out to get Sean killed, in fashion. Who could it be? Is this his first work? Dennis contemplated.

Christopher Chambers never wanted to be a lawyer, in fact, he used to loathe them. He sees them as money-makers, misrepresents to the highest degree, equal-to-none liars. The latter was so much so that even politicians only ranked second to them. Christopher did not want to be one of them; he wanted to be a policeman. But like 80 percent of the world population, he realized that life wasn’t as advertised when he was just a toddler. He learned the hard way. At the age of three, his father left his mother and four children. A year later, Chris and his siblings found themselves living with their grandparents after their mother took a gun and put two bullets in her head.

They were brought up in an environment of hard work, perseverance, loyalty, and survival. Christopher learned how to deal with people twice even thrice older than him. It was in one of these dealings that he met an old judge who took him home and treated him as his own son. Living with the judge, he became skilled at reasoning, loved the art of reading and excelled in school. When the judge died, he left everything he had to Christopher, including a piece of paper where a simple note said: “Be the best Lawyer! God Bless.”

That was thirty years ago, Christopher Chambers was now the acknowledged best attorney in the northern hemisphere. He was the youngest lawyer to be able to practice in more than 20 jurisdictions, passing all bar exams each state and territory has to offer. His colorful resume included high profile lawsuits such as: the defense of a giant soda company based in Atlanta against an anti-trust lawsuit, defense of the Governor of California against parricide, and the defense of a Multi-National Company, all verdicts were in favor of the defense.

He instantly realized he had not eaten in twenty hours after smelling the aroma coming from the tuna turnover he ordered. Lieutenant Collins took another whiff and it smelled… fish. The best tuna in this part of the world is in that bread; he gobbled it down. He almost choked devouring it; he immediately took a sip of his favorite diet soda. Good thing the ‘aspartame controversy’ didn’t bring the no-sugar industry down; he would have been drinking iced tea instead. He smiled. But then Dan saw the time; he frowned. Agent Lacre is late again. They were to rendezvous in this place 20 minutes ago. He was about to call his associate when Dennis emerged from the back part of the resto.

“I’m really sorry Sir! I got an important call from capitol. Also had the images resized and adjusted the hue and saturation to give us a clearer picture. Anyway, here they are.” Dennis laid the pictures on the table.

“Are you sure this place is safe?” Agent Collins was hesitant to discuss important criminal evidences in a public place. He looked around.

“I know this place like the back of my hand Sir! This table here is for lovers, so no one can see us. Of course, we are in no way lovers, but technically…” Collins gave Lacre a disgusting look. “Uhm, anyway, I’ve instructed the waiters not to disturb us and approach us only if called upon.” Lacre proceeded. “At the ground level, the bombing in Euclid Heights looked like any other; destructive and lethal, nothing fancy. But here are the aerial shots of the crime scene. This was taken before the police line was drawn; here is the scene with the place cordoned. Hello fish!” Agent Lacre played.

“Wow! That’s interesting. Here’s mine.” Collins showed the picture of Raymond’s hand.

“Is that McMillan’s hand?” Lacre was baffled.

“Yeah. Look closely at the prints of our alleged killer, Mr.Antonio.”

“What? I don’t see anything. What am I missing?”

Collins pulled another picture of Ray’s hand, this time with the alleged killer’s prints connected together, forming a fish.

“Whoah! Now this is really worthy of note!” Lacre exclaimed. “What do you make out of these fishes?”

“Have you heard of a group who call themselves Devonians?”

“Devonians? No. Isn’t it a period in geology? Or something like that.”

“Yes it is a Geologic Period in the Paleozoic Era. The group originated in England, Devon, I supposed. Rocks that were studied from the Devonian Period were taken from Devon, England. They were like a family of assassins, at first, grew and became notorious for perfect executions of people of stature, including Pope Xavier the Fifth, JFK and Gandhi. Don’t argue, they were all covered up.” Collins took a deep breath before proceeding. “Interpol did a crackdown against the group sometime in the late 80’s. They were believed to have been caught and executed explaining the group’s sudden disappearance. Those who survived eventually retired.”

“Let me guess, they all love fish?” Lacre still bewildered.

“The Devonian Period is sometimes referred to as the evolution of fish. Fish is the group’s insignia. The pope was killed by putting poison on his favorite dish, Japanese sashimi; Gandhi died across a pool designed to form a fish; and JFK was riding it, the Limousine 63 dubbed The Shark.” Collins concluded.

“Sir, are you trying to maintain a sense of parallelism here by eating tuna turnover?” Lacre joked, which drew a smirk from his superior.

The muscular man played the tape again. It was the 10th time and nobody was even giving interest on the monitor. What was once a nauseating picture, at least to most of the viewers, was now a casual sex scene. Lester was even aroused. The memory of that night made its way back to him; every touch sent chills, every kiss stopped time and every second recorded.

“Those are quite good moves you’ve got there Mr. de Ocampo! I must say if you are not a personality, this video would have made a great porno.” Mr. Branch acknowledged the athleticism of the councilor, sarcastically.

“What is it you want? Are you a fag? You want me to teach you those moves? It’s gonna cost you!” Lester retorted.

The businessman grunted. He was expecting the first councilor to play tough. Lester, gay as he is, cannot easily be swayed into doing things not of his liking. Unless one has an ace, one should not try to throw his weight around him. He will easily get around it.

“I’m straight, let’s be clear with that. I don’t give a damn whether you like your eggs with dogs or not, it’s your preference. But we live in a world where things that you do are not accepted, at least not yet, by the majority. Lest you forget, we’re in a catholic-dominated state. You can either accept and play with my terms or say goodbye to your political career.” Marlowe is all business now.

“I’m listening.” Lester gave in.

“I am not a fan of Mr. Villaluz, your mayor, I suppose you know that.”

Lester nodded

“It is a common knowledge that he wants you to succeed him in his office this coming election so he would still have a say in the local politics through you. He is also eyeing a seat in the state legislature. I want him to lose and I want him out of the picture here in Camp Rock. “

“I’m sorry Mr. Branch, how are these things connected with my sexcapades?” another smart-ass question from Lester which solicited some chuckle from Marlowe’s thugs. A sharp look from their boss quieted them immediately.

“You are not going to run for Mayor. I’ll field my own kin. That’ll eliminate Villaluz’ clout in the city. You will run for state legislator opposing your protégé instead, that’ll pissed him off to death.” The evil plan paraded.

“You know I can’t do that to the mayor! He was…”

“Then I’ll tell you what I can do, I will alert the media about a sex video scandal involving the first councilor of Camp Rock and the Governor of the state of the Philippines!” Marlowe yelled.

Chapter VIII: Complex Web

Lester de Ocampo, First Councilor, Camp Rock City, the name on the door read. The nametag was Vinyl lettering of Gold color that people find hard not to give attention to. The interest is just appropriate, owing to the fact that Lester was the youngest ever elected as first councilor in the city’s history. There are twelve councilors in the city and the one who gets the highest number of votes in the election automatically becomes first councilor. Being such comes with great power. The first councilor is the third in the city government hierarchy and the chairman of budget and blue ribbon committees, naming a few of the position’s clout. The latter, a very sought after position since the command of the city police and ERUF comes with it.

The first councilor sat idle on his comfy divan looking straight ahead to his right window. His mind was drifting some hundred miles away. The body is not willing but the mind is stubborn. He wanted to get out of this place. This is not the kind of life he wanted - a life where every move is scrutinized, every breath is frowned upon and every fart smelled. It‘s a life between a cage and a hard rock. Years ago, being the first councilor was an ultimate dream. A crowning moment of his success in the playing field. But as reality sat in, it dawned on him; he is living a life not of his. He wanted more power and freedom at the same time. He wanted to be released and get out of his cocoon. He sat still on his chair.

There was a light knock on his door. Lester immediately sat up straight and tried to look busy. “I’m sorry sir but he said it’s urgent.” His secretary beeped him on his interphone.

“Who is it?” Lester had a quizzical look.

“I didn’t get his name, sir, I’m very sorry but he is so big and he…” the secretary started crying and the line went dead.

Lester’s heart pounded. Who could it be? The IRS? FBI? NPA? ABB? ABC? And a dozen more three-letter organizations he could think of and not one made sense. He instantaneously opened his left drawer and picked up his M1911 pistol. He preferred this 45 caliber pistol over his 9mm for its perceived “stopping power” especially on close range. His sweaty hands were trembling and he had a hard time of locking the pistol. The knocks came again, this time with more power. The plaques on the wall trembled.

“Who is it?” Lester asked in a shaky voice. He pressed the red emergency button beneath his desk.

“Open up or this door will have it.” Warned the man outside.

The councilor moved away from the door and positioned himself on the right corner of the room where he can pull out a surprise against a number of men.

A Loud bang and the door gave way to four huge men in black suits.

Lester aimed his gun ready to fire away.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” A businessman in the name of Marlowe Branch followed his thugs.

“What the hell is this? You can’t come in here just like that!”

“Well, I just did! Oh, and I’m sorry to tell you, it’s Sunday and you only have two half-baked security personnel to help and they are already taken care of. Put the gun away or Miss Secretary here will fly out of the window.” Marlowe was really serious.

Lester slowly put the gun on the sofa beside him.

“That’s my girl!” the Pairidaeza patriarch laughed out loud.

There was no direct connection between the slain victim Raymond McMillan and Legislative House Member Glen Antonio. They were not business associates, not party buddies, not fraternal brothers, no same organization, not relatives nor were they lovers, as some folks insisted. These facts hamper the investigators in pointing the real motive of the crimes. What really pinned the legislator were the calls made from his office to Raymond’s residence three days before the latter’s disappearance and the presence of the former’s prints all over Ray’s severed hand. These were evidences too compelling to get away from and the fact that the primary personalities of the case were known in the whole state, the litigation is news’ hottest item.

Glen was pacing to and fro his 7 by 10 feet cell. The room was partially illuminated. He was scheduled to attend a preliminary hearing in two days wherein the grand jury, legally convened and sworn, will present the formal charges against him. He has heard of indictments before, but only on television series and occasional peeps on Law books. But he was confident, borderline cocky, that he would be freed soon and charges will be dropped. In fact, his wife has arranged to get him the best criminal lawyer in mainland US. He was waiting for him. He continued to pace the small room.

“Open on 14!” A black jail guard shouted.

Mr. Antonio stopped. 14 is his cell number.

“Sir you have a visitor. Good morning.” The guard was courteous.

“About time! What took him so long!? I don’t like lawyers! Do you?” Glen tried to start a conversation.

“No, sir I don’t. But I think you need him.”

“Ha! Are you trying to be a smart-ass kiddo? How much do they pay you here?” The legislator forgot he was in prison not in the legislative house.

The guard grabbed Glen’s hands and cuffed them and literally dragged him out of the cell. Two other guards came over and helped haul him to the visitor’s lounge.

“Mr. Antonio, good morning! I am Christopher Chambers; I am your attorney! Pleased to meet you!” extended his right hand politely.

“Are you the best one there is? Where are you from? I am innocent!” the testy politician yelled.

“Aren’t we all? It seems your lovely niece has some influential friends to bring the best criminal lawyer in North America all the way here to the Philippines.” Chris replied as a matter-of-factly.

“My niece?”

A sexy model appeared from the lawyer’s back.

“Hi uncle Glen! I’m Rhea. I don’t know if you still remember me; Greg’s my father.” Extending her hand for a handshake instead of the Filipino tradition where one bows and takes the elder’s hand on one’s forehead.

“Oh! Greg’s daughter, Rhea! Wow this is a surprise! Looks like you’ve lost the Filipiniana in you!” extends his right hand and forces it on Rhea’s forehead. “That’s how you greet your elders, big girl. You’ll act like a Filipina while you are here. Understood?”

“Yes, yes. I’m so sorry!” Rhea was embarrassed.

“Well, anyway, it’s good to see you!” He hugged his niece tightly.

The lawyer wished he could hug her that tight too.

“Agent Lacre.” Dennis wondered who the caller was.

“Hi! This is Ms. Perez. How’s the case going?” Angel used her saintly voice.

“The indictment will be in a couple of days from today. It will be a speedy trial madam I assure you that.” He was quite annoyed.

“Good! I want you to strengthen the case, tamper the evidence if you must. I want this bastard’s miserable life to end as soon as possible.” She shifted to high gear.

“I’m sorry, madam. You know I can’t do that. The case is already in the judiciary’s hands. Besides, I believe the case is airtight. He can’t get out of this one.”

“Better not! Who’s defending him?”

“It’s a certain Mr. Christopher Chambers from mainland US. I don’t…hello?” Mr. Lacre heard the busy tone on the other end. She hung up.

He was exasperated to be treated like a dog. Yes, the money was good and he never had a clear conscience ever since he made it to high school, so selling what’s left of his integrity never bothered him, but he still has small pride left on him, and it’s this pride that refuses to be treated inhumanely. He was tempted to call his superior Agent Collins but the idea of confessing and the threat of being incarcerated for life held him back.

Edwin opened another round of beers for him and his brothers, their third round of ice-cold RH beers. They had pork steak and fresh fish fillet cut in bite size cubes locally known as ‘kinilaw na isda’, to go with their booze.

“You think we did the right thing? What are they going to do with it?” Rolando was unsteady. He was bothered by his conscience.

Mang Pilo, the eldest of the Anunsacion brothers, shrugged his shoulders. He wasn’t sure if he did the right thing – offering the tape to someone who knew someone who knew a powerful businessman. They were offered great money in return as long as they keep quiet and stay away from it all. It was big money, all the brothers’ salaries for this lifetime combined together is not even half of what was given to them. It’s an offer you never think twice of.

“They know better than us Rolando. Besides, it’s the best bargain in town. We can’t get more than what they gave us. This is the money we’ve all been waiting for, working for! And I don’t give a damn who’s going down with what, but I’m taking this money over any tape any time of the day.”

The brothers were staring at their hero explaining everything. All ears were his, save for Zaldy who was busy watching the 7^th game of NBA’s Western Finals.

“How can you be so selfish? Papang wouldn’t have agreed with us, if he was still alive.” Rolando argued.

“Guess what, brother? They’re not here. They’re already dead, and so will we in a matter of years. We’re old! Damn old and nobody gives a shit! I’d rather die with my stomach full of beer and food.” Mang Pilo raised his voice.

“How dare you say that to our parents!” Rolando was emotional.

“This pork is good. Very juicy.” Edwin tried to calm the air.

“Excuse me guys, I don’t want to burst your bubbles here, but what exactly did you gave up worth all this money?” Zaldy, suddenly got involve incidentally when the game had a time out.

“It’s a data tape I accidentally found in the trash at the hotel I’m working at. It contains something that is potentially damaging to the life of a politician. “ Rolando confessed.

“You found in the trash? What is it with trash and you guys? First, Peter here finds the hand of a businessman in a pile of waste, now you find a tape that’s damaging to a politician? What’s next?” Zaldy now is more focused, at least while the game was on hold.

“What’s done is done. All we have to do is live under the radar. We keep our mouths shut, we’re all good. We’ve done nothing, we’ve seen nothing. Nothing will change, at least for a couple of months. Test the tides a little bit, if it’s good to go, we go. We have the money to last two lifetimes.” Mang Pilo strategized while turning his head once in a while for outsiders.

Everyone nodded in agreement, Rolando included.

“And one!” Zaldy shouted while punching the air with a clinch fist after a player made a spectacular dunk plus a foul to boot. Everyone stared at him in disbelief.

He was waiting for almost an hour, drank two cups of black coffee and already smoked eight sticks of Marlboro Lights. He was wearing a blue Nike cap, black sweatshirts and running shoes. He was not accustomed to wearing athletic get-ups, but this meeting is all about identity concealment and not fashion statement. He was tired of waiting but her voice suggested urgency. Another ten minutes he’d give her, anyway, the coffee here is irresistible. Is it from Indonesia? He tried to calm down by asking stupid questions to himself.

She arrived thirty minutes late than was previously settled. He immediately hated her not for being late, that was expected, but for being so casual with her clothes. She made no slight gesture of hiding her personality. She was as sexy as anyone can be. Voluptuous, that’s the word.

Angel Perez glided through the aisles with her plunging neckline and black-girl ass in tow. She was inviting all the attention in the house instead of shoving them away. He was tempted to get up and leave but she already saw him and was making her way through.

She made it all the way through their table without anyone inviting her for a round of drinks. He secretly thanked God. He chose the table located in the right corner of the restaurant where a big divider separates them from the crowd. It is a table made for lovebirds on a date.

“I’m glad you’re still here. I’m so sorry I’m late but I have to take a few turns to make sure I’m not being followed.” Angel explained while taking her seat.

“That’s a good explanation but what the hell are you thinking? We agreed to assume a low profile; the least you can do is cover your breasts! It’s inviting all the attention for Christ’s sake!” He was furious.

“Oh come on! No one’s gonna recognize you on that! Even I had a hard time! They’ll gonna recognize me, so what? They don’t know you anyway. So relax. Besides, this isn’t about you. It’s about Glen’s lawyer, Mr. Chambers.” Angel retorted.

“What about him? I heard he is a good one, the more realistic it would seem to the world don’t’ you think? As good as Mr. Chambers is, our people working to plant the evidence are experts in their field. He’ll find it hopeless in defending Glen.” He explained with an aura of invincibility.

“Mr. Chambers is not just good, he is the best there is in this world. And if that is not enough for you, he knows me! He is my mother’s first husband and the father of my evil stepsisters! He knows my moves; it’s as if he can read my mind. I am not comfortable with what we are doing!” She could not contain her tears. “Sooner or later, he’ll find out we’re trying to frame his client! I’m out of this! I want some time out!”

“Hey calm down baby!” He gently stroked her hair. “Are you sure you’re not comfortable with him? I mean it’s better to have you on the inside. That is if..” he was cut off in mid-sentence.

“No. I’m going away. I’ve done my share. It’s better for me to be out of the picture.” She was decided.

“Ok, Honey, Ok. We’ll find a way to get you out of the state as soon as possible without causing a stir. We will wire you the money in a Cayman account. We will take care of Mr. Chambers; I promised.”

“Thank you Mr. Farouk.”

Chapter VII: The Assassin

The Buencamino family has been so supportive of Lynette since the day she came home from the hospital. She was suffering from a concussion-induced amnesia. The doctor advised her to take some feel-good medicines, lengthy rest away from work, and a lot of attention and love from family. The nightmares were gone and she was slowly remembering things; a big part of that was her family’s resolve to bring her back. She showed determination in learning things again, that’s her small way of showing her gratitude to them. In addition, she was inspired by a man who visits her everyday, conversing and walking with her in their garden. Her family welcomed him in their mansion with open arms, although the Buencamino matriarch secretly despised the budding attachment because the man was not a Roman Catholic. Everyone could throw in their own argument to that issue but to Mrs. Buencamino, that’s all there was to life.

It was almost time for her visitor to arrive, just thinking of him sent chills in her spine. Lynette wondered why she felt safe and loved around him. He must be a big part of my past, she thought, but her family pictures said otherwise. Not even one picture of him. Her family said he was instrumental in saving her life; he was the ERUF team leader who responded to the accident. Lynette opened her enormous walk-in closet and was lost for an hour in there. Then she emerged wearing a pink sleeveless blouse and a white skirt that succeeded in showing off her flawless skin. She wasn’t just excited, she was in love.

Philippines’ Emergency Rescue Unit Force, ERUF for short, was first conceptualized in the city of Zeebu. It helps the populace in all kinds of emergency situations, patterned from the US mainland’s 911 Rescue Unit. It was so successful that a bill was passed to form an ERUF for the whole archipelago. In Camp Rock City, ERUF headquarters is strategically stationed at the foot of PC Hill to be able to answer emergency calls in a matter of minutes. The building is old but was carefully retouched to breathe out an air of prestige and integrity. It had three floors and a basement where the fitness center was located. The gym smelled sweat, iron and protein-coated snack bars. Paul was finishing his morning work-out, when an alarm rang through the walls. It wasn’t just an ordinary alarm, the red lights in the four corners were all lighted, it meant code red - a serious accident just happened and all servicemen were required to report immediately to the headquarters. Every human soul in the gym discontinued what they were doing and dashed to the nearest exit.

His large, modern binoculars were mounted on a tripod beside the window of an upscale mansion in Rosary Heights. The binoculars were aimed at a moving subject some 400 meters away. He waited for an hour for the subject to emerge from his residence and at 8:45 in the morning, he spotted him. Just as they have predicted and timed. A lovely lady followed the subject, probably his secretary, he thought. She was very attractive in her skirt showing her short but firm and almost flawless legs; her boss must be screwing her for sure, he wondered. He buckled down to work, refocused the lens of his telescope to the best resolution it can get at that time taking into consideration the sunlight. Took a last guzzle at his diet coke; a far cry from the original coke, taste-wise, but he was suffering from diabetes so sugar is not allowed. Nevertheless, the soda was enough to pump him up.

Sean hurriedly drank his iced, blended coffee-milk beverage while scanning the daily papers on his kitchen table. It was a big day for his company, RC Victuals; they are on the verge of winning the bid to cater a very big convention of State leaders in Zeebu. This was the kind of event he had been waiting to showcase what they’ve got to the rest of the nation. The company Vice-President and Virna, Sean’s secretary, were waiting for him in the living room. They were all anxious to go in anticipation of a big day. He finally emerged from the kitchen with a big smile.

“Are we all set?” Sean asked

“Ready to go, sir! The car’s waiting outside.” Virna was trembling

“I think everything is in place sir. The committee will be arriving this morning to hear our final proposal. I had our best artist do the final touches on our presentation. We will be serving samples later for the committee. And our tuxedos have the same colors!” Bryan proudly announced.

“Ok, then. Let’s kick some ass!” Sean addressed his Vice-President

“I’m with you all the way sir! It’s time to rock and roll!” Bryan shared the enthusiasm of his boss.

They were all ushered out by Sean’s house assistant. The company’s Mercedes was waiting for more than 30 minutes now. Just as Sean was about to go outside, he remembered something important, kissing a pendant his grandmother gave him. It is a good luck. He went upstairs and found the pendant atop the Bible beside his bed. He said a small prayer and kissed the pendant. He never had the time to say Amen as he was thrown on the floor as if somebody pushed him hard. The whole world around him shook violently. There was a big explosion outside the house and it sent shrapnel everywhere; a small glass made it to Sean’s right forehead and a gush of blood came pouring. He was still dizzy but rallied himself to get up. He peered over the window and saw the remains of their car. His Vice-President and his Secretary were in it when it exploded. Sean lost consciousness; he lost more than that.

His binoculars lost focus for about 3 seconds to readjust to the sudden light emitted by the car explosion. Goodbye Sean Calloway and to your lovely mistress; he scoffed at the thought. He gathered his gizmos and threw his bottled soda in the bin. He dialed Malacañang, it is done.

Rhea grew up in suburban Sacramento where pure Filipinos or of descent, occupy more than half of the former capital of California. Year 2007 saw the changing of capital from the laid-back relax mood of Sacto to the home of Hollywood, Los Angeles. The proximity of her home to Hollywood enabled her to land a character part on several films and advertisements that require sexy outfits. She is a certified vegan and it shows on her curves with only a little trace of fat on her arms, aside from that small imperfection, she is a goddess. She has spent most of her life in mainland US that she remembers vaguely her motherland, the Philippines, and speaks Tagalog no more except for “salamat” and “mabuhay.” Never in her mind has she thought of having the chance to go back to the Philippines especially with the negative security advice coming from Washington. Somehow, faith intervened, as her homeland is no longer a terrorist haven and is in fact already a US state. She planned to have a grand vacation on summer, but a poignant call from her aunt moved her homecoming sooner than earlier planned.

Dark smoke engulfed the whole block where Sean’s house was located. The middle-to-top level residences near the bomb were blown apart by the very strong blast. What was once a Mercedes car was now just a car seat on fire; the car’s roof blown into bits and pieces. Glass littered the sidewalk; a couple of houses were on fire; six were instantly killed by the detonation, two of them were Bryan and Virna, Sean’s associates. The driver’s torso was separated from his limbs and his intestines were all over the place. Several live bodies were scattered on the pavement. A 10-year-old girl, who was in their garden when the car exploded, wasn’t spared. Two media helicopters were transmitting the gruesome images worldwide.

Sirens overwhelmed the confusion that was Euclid Heights. ERUF workforce immediately went to work and put out the flame that was swallowing up two houses. The fire was seriously threatening to jump to neighboring houses. The ambulances immediately took the bodies to the nearest hospitals; medics were roaming the neighborhood for injuries sustained. Four went inside Sean’s house led by Paul, without knocking or ringing the bell; there was neither bell nor door present. The house facade was damaged by fire that was put off before it can cause serious damage. The second floor, shaken by the strong discharge, was one jolt away from collapsing.

“Hello! Is anyone in here?” One medic asked while poking around through the smoke.

“Is everybody ok?” asked another.

“Eric, you come with me upstairs, you two search the kitchen and the back. If you see no one in there, immediately leave the vicinity. This place is going down.” instructed Paul.

“Ok, we have the back.” affirmed the first medic.

“We’ll take one step at a time. Grab the railings and no extra motion. This room is going to give up, any minute now.”

“I’m right behind you, sir.” Eric responded.

The two continued their quest to the summit, less the frostbite of the Everest.

“Somebody in here?” Creaking floorboards drowned his voice.

“I hear a groan, sir, to the west room.” The younger medic guessed.

“Are you sure?” Paul hesitated.

“I’m not guessing, sir. I’m telling you, there’s somebody in there.” He lied

“OK.” Paul turned to the right. Suddenly, everything shook and the whole floor went down an inch and tilted to the left.

“Whoah! Look out!” The chandelier atop the staircase went crashing down, missing Eric by a hairline.

“Good Lord! That was close!” Eric sighed.

Due to the slant of the floor, Paul can see the whole west room without having to take another dangerous step. He saw Sean’s body lay helplessly on the floor; there was blood on the floor, a lot of it. Paul decided to go downstairs with his colleague. Their extra weight would surely bring the house down. A crane was used instead to help take Sean out of the house without further harm; it took them almost two hours to do so. He was rushed to the hospital along with others.

“This is a very unfortunate incident in our lives and it is regrettable that our sons and daughters will have to deal with this. We are once again faced by the evil of tomorrow. But we will not be threatened, terrorized, forced to hide, nor give into submission. Instead we will be as resilient, as brave and heroic as before. We will let them taste the full force of the law. There is not enough space in the world for you to run. You can never hide. We will hunt you down for the rest of your lives.” A strong statement was issued immediately by Governor Concepcion.

The guy in black suit inched his way to the crowd. He tried real hard to look like one of the crowd; it would have been easier if he came in casual clothes. Perseverance rewarded him by taking him to Sean’s room unnoticed. He turned the knob; it was unlocked, very unusual but then again he was always very lucky, he thought. The patient was lying on his back with tens of pipes either attached to his body or inserted through his nose. It was nauseating. He wasted no time and immediately pulled the plug that controls Sean’s heartbeat, the artificial pacemaker machine. The patient went into seizure for a minute. The screen instantly flatlined. The assassin hurriedly left leaving no trace.

“Baby, wake up! Hey!” Cherry slapped Rizniel on the face.

“Huh? What?” Riz looked around, dazed.

“You are having nightmares again, baby. Snap out of it. Are you OK?” She swiftly got up to get some water.

“Yeah. I guess.” He was sweating profusely.

“Here. What is it this time?” She handed Riz a cold glass of water.

“It’s Sean. He was murdered in his hospital room by the same man I dreamt of last night, who butchered…” He couldn’t bring himself to mention his best friend’s name. “The murderer wears the same black suit, the same one Federal agents and Presidential Guards wore. Looks like Will Smith with the sunglasses on. I have to see someone who can help me with these dreams.”

“Can you give a detailed description of this man? Facial features perhaps?” Cherry tried to stay awake.

“Maybe, with a good artist. There must be someone who can help me.” Riz was fully awake.

“It’s 3 in the morning. We’ll find someone good later, OK? Let’s go back to sleep.” She kissed him on the forehead like a mother kissing her son goodnight.

“I don’t mean psychiatrist, I meant an interpreter of dreams.” Riz continued.

“Yeah, whatever. If you say so.” She was gone.

Chapter VI: The News

Lieutenant Collins was up early and was dashing towards the central office after his usual breakfast of boiled egg and 2 strips of bacon. Finally they have a match on the prints found on the inside circle of the ring. Hundreds of prints were actually taken out of the crime scene but none turned out to be incriminating as the prints belonged to either one of the scavengers, truck drivers, waste managers, or garbage owners themselves. But the one found on the ring proved to be very important to the investigation. Court needed no time in issuing a warrant of arrest. Lieutenant Collins is up and running to see that it gets served.

“Dennis, get your ass in the office. It’s going to be a long day!” Dan Collins woke up his colleague.

“Huh? What’s up? Who did you say you were?” A half-awake agent Lacre stammered.

“Get Up!”

“Right away sir!” Dennis recognized the scream.

Glen Antonio grew up in a family of politicians. Both his grandfather and father were past members of the Philippine Senate when it was still an independent Republic in the South East Asian region. He entered politics at the very early stage of his life, elected as SK president, Councilor and eventually became Mayor of one of the biggest cities in the state, Quezon City. He is a cunning monster who worked his way up the ladder using both shrewdness and craftiness. It was even rumored at that time when he was the mayor of QC, he allowed the Taiwanese drug lords to do their businesses without fear of getting caught. He controlled everything and everyone was afraid to face him head on. At present day, he is one of the state legislatures of the Philippines.

But luck started to fade away on Mr. Antonio the day Lieutenant Collins and Dennis Lacre approached him as he was about to tee off in the 13^th hole. Glen was having his round of golf with his bestfriend on a fairly warm Saturday morning.

“Good Morning! I hate to interrupt you guys, but this is a very important matter.” Collins, cool as ice.

“Good day Lieutenant! What can we do for you?” Mahmoud Farouk, also a member of the upper house of the state legislature, recognized the young officer. Tipped his blue Nike cap.

“We are here to serve an arrest warrant to Glen Antonio for the murder of Raymond Mcmillan” Collins, hot as hell.

“What the hell!? Is this some kind of a joke?” Glen, wearing a beige polo shirt made popular by Tiger Woods, almost lost his composure.

Farouk took the warrant and read it before passing it to Glen who was trying very hard to stay calm. The bodyguards of the two VIPs could do nothing as they were disarmed by the accompanying SWAT team long before Collins said the first word.

Glen read the warrant, and again.

“Let me call my lawyer first, so he can inform my staff and family. And oh, whatever you do, don’t inform the media. I have very powerful friends Lieutenant, be reminded.” The suspected killer showed flair in handling the crisis.

“I have no control over the media sir but we’ll contain this as much as we can, and yes you may call your lawyer.” Collins gave the representative some freer slack.

Saturday afternoon, after five days in the hospital waiting for his precious one to come back, Sean decided to live and assess his house and to check up on his mother. He said his goodbyes, which sounded like a valedictory address, to Lynette’s parents and siblings, and promised to be back in a couple of hours. Don Buencamino thanked Sean generously; sent him home with a fatherly hug. Tears were not in scarcity.

Paul Rama, an ERUF Team Leader, visited the hospital to check on his brother who was shot the other night. As he turned to the right he bumped into another man who was also in a hurry. Then he recognized him, the man he got hold of when he was about to hit the pavement after a vehicular accident was the same man he bumped into. It was Sean. They changed pleasantries and as quickly as they hit right smack on each other, both were gone. Paul couldn’t help but recall the events of that ill-fated night; then something came up in his mind and he dashed to the nurse’s station. He flashed his badge, his looks would have done the trick, and the beautiful nurse immediately printed a report of the list of patients from that vehicular accident who were still in the hospital. There were seven and he went to see each one of them.

After Sean left for home, Lynette’s family gathered around her to pray the rosary. They prayed for miracle and they got it. Lynette’s fingers on her right hand moved; the left hand followed. The family gasped, waited for more, then after what seemed like eternity, she fully opened her eyes for the first time in five days. Her parents hug her tight and kissed her like a baby; her siblings continued giving their thanks to God. Tears drowned the hallways even more.

At that exact time the Buencamino family was rejoicing, Paul knocked on the door. He was allowed to come in after introducing himself, this time without the badge. He approached the lady whom has the look of bewilderment, the most innocent angelic face Paul has ever seen. This is the second time he has seen her, but the first time, she was bathed with blood and with bruises all over her body. He blinked as if to check if he’s not dreaming. Paul fell in love at first sight; make that love at second sight, if there is such thing. Slowly, he took small steps towards her; he was trying hard to look cute, the last time he did was 18 years ago in a high school acquaintance party.

Lynette looked around and recognized no one. White clothes draped the bed and windows. The room was very clean and a feeling of pureness enveloped her. Where am I? She asked herself. The people around her were eerily familiar but she can’t actually put the time and place she met them. Everyone was crying and she joined them knowing not the reason why. Then she saw a man entering the room, he was a medium-built middle-aged man. Though trying to look attractive, he really is not a knocker. The guy approached her rather hilariously. He’s taking small steps that looked like ballet steps but she was comfortable with him, she immediately noticed.

“Hi! How are you? I’m Paul with the City’s ERUF. We responded to the emergency call when you had an accident.” Paul offered his hand.

Lynette shook his hand. “Hi. What accident? Where am I? I’m sorry but I don’t recognize anyone of you.” She showed disorientation.

“I’m afraid she’s suffering from amnesia.” Paul stated the obvious.

Lynette’s mother struggled for breath.

Right on cue, the hospital doctor came in with a throng of nurses. They excused everyone and administered the patient to a series of examinations.

The waiter tiptoed his way to Angel Perez’s table. It was a restaurant designed primarily for the middle class community but their juicy and very tasty chicken BBQ in chili soy sauce made the socialite swallow her pride just to get a bite of it. She’s a regular here every Saturday afternoon; sits at the same table in the corner, away from the raised eyebrows of the middleclass men, orders the same menu and leaves with a big tip. The senior waiter always takes her order, though there is really no need for that since she always orders the same thing. He has gotten to know her during these once in a week “date.” He’s smitten with her and he swears Angel stares at his behind every after he leaves her table. She does not. She’s only interested with their chicken.

“Thank you, Bob.” Angel smiled.

“You’re welcome, Angel. Can I get you anything else?” Bob inquired.

“No. That will be all.” Angel almost lost her appetite with the first-name calling. But the sight of the grilled chicken BBQ in soy sauce is a temptation too hard to resist, first-name or not.

She took a small slice and then her cellular phone rang. There was no name or video that appeared on screen, indicating it’s a caller not registered on her 5,000-name phonebook. This must be an important one. Angel hesitated, chicken or pick up the phone?

“This is Angel. Who is this?” she decided unwillingly.

“This is detective Dennis Lacre of CRPD. They’ve arrested Glen Antonio for the murder of your fiancé. I’m giving you information just as you’ve requested and paid for. There’s no other lead yet. We’re still investigating further.” Dennis seems to be in a hurry.

“Good! Thank you.” Angel gobbled up her meal. Ordered another one, there’s a cause for celebration.

Rizniel secretly thanked his God almighty for his great relationship with his fiancé, booming business, and very good health. He also got a call from an associate breaking to him the news of a politician arrested for the murder of his best friend. It’s a good year so far. He parked his blue corvette in the space specially provided for him as the President and General Manager of the Le Grimaldi. A drizzle on his way to the office lighten up his mood. He is not a big fan of the sun. The security guard pushed a small button upon seeing his boss parked. The button will notify the kitchen to make hot choco and clubhouse sandwich for their boss.

“Good morning, Mister Legaspi!” The security guard stood straight and saluted.

“Good morning, Buster! You’ve been working out I see, Keep it up!” Riz is known to be good with people especially the ones he’s working with.

Buster smiled back.

Rizniel went straight to a small elevator, punch a 6-number access code, showed his eyes for the retinal scanner then showed his hand for the thumb and palm scan. The box immediately closed and began its descent. It led its boss to his secret office. He took the universal remote control specially designed for his workplace. He pushed three buttons and it set fire in the fireplace, turned the lights on, turned his favorite music into life, and the six big screen monitors lit up the room. He went straight to a monitor on the right end of his desk to review the last week’s recordings in his hotel. He skipped the boring part, things that were recorded at the lobby and reception, heard the latest gossip at the cafeteria, laugh a bit on a janitor checking their trash bins, watched some couple making out, a sexy lady tripping at the grand stairs, collision at the underground parking lot and more. There’s nothing serious and interesting nor worth watching again. He munched on his sandwich and sipped his hot chocolate. This is life!

CNN late night news in the mainland US included a state legislature in the 51^st state being arrested for the murder of a young businessman. The police did all it can to have a news blanket on the issue but apparently a mole inside its ranks was paid handsomely to leak the news. It was just given a minute or two in the cable news giant but in the Philippines it was the biggest news. Local newspapers Philippine Daily, Freedom, and Balita gave substantial pages on the hot subject. TV Patrol made a 1-hour documentary stating in chronological order the events from the introduction of PinoyAir President Raymond McMillan leading to his death and the arrest of Glen Antonio. Coffee shops were abuzz with this news especially that the suspect was a known ally of Malacañang.

Governor of the state, Mr. Concepcion, ordered his personal secretary to call Mahmoud Farouk, Glen’s best buddy.

“How did this happen? It’s election year, for Christ’s sake!” William was fuming.

“Mr. Governor, the best attorneys in the country are with him right now. It’s circumstantial evidence, nothing really. “ Farouk almost believe his own lies.

“What do you mean nothing? It’s all over CNN! I’m calling an emergency meeting for the party in a couple of hours. We have to build a big news and take the people’s attention away from Glen. Make up something. Stir their imagination.” The governor showed his dexterity in this kind of situation.

“I’ll disseminate the information right away Sir.”

The morning drizzle became stronger in the afternoon and later that night the NOAA issued a storm signal, a weak one, but a storm nonetheless, coming from the Pacific.