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.”