Orchid House by Cindy Martinusen-Coloma

Author:Cindy Martinusen-Coloma
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: ebook, book
Publisher: Thomas Nelson
Published: 2010-09-08T16:00:00+00:00

FOURTEEN

The next days brought a slow succession of activity to the hacienda grounds. Manalo’s men reported on the preparations for Captain Morrison’s body to arrive within days. They kept a record of the comings and goings. Raul was ever on the move all over the hacienda.

The Barangay had their men at the border and sweeping through the plantation, making it difficult to stay for any amount of time. They were formidable foes, that was certain. Other than the Moros in the southern province of Mindanao, Manalo had not met with such skill and discipline. He worried about his men who’d grown lax and weary of jungle life, that they were not the fighters they had once been.

Paco reported to him after he studied the structure of the house and learned the room location of the American woman. Manalo himself remained miles away in the surrounding mountains as they gathered information and came up with plans.

Trouble was incited in the town. Bar fights, the burning of some abandoned cars, some tourists attacked, a few shops robbed, and an owner terrorized.

Manalo was angry about some of the excess and angrier still to learn that it wasn’t the Red Bolos who were responsible—the mercenaries had been invited to town. What was Comrade Pilo thinking? And though Manalo feared what occurred when incompetence and undisciplined mercenaries mixed, some of the created chaos was necessary. For Paco reported that through-out the town, people were talking about the return of Captain Morrison as eagerly as the return of President Marcos Ferdinand’s body had been despised. Many viewed the Captain as a symbol of hope, change, and progress. If they only knew what democracy bred—greed, selfish ambition, more poverty, and gaps in the class structure. But belief was hard to crush. It was a delicate matter. Chaos and fear could divide, or they could create alliances.

Everything was culminating at the funeral and wake. The mayor was coming out. Corruption fed and clothed the mayor of San Juan. The people would be gathered there to see their hope returned. And the American woman would of course be there—and must not be drawn into the land, but learn to fear it. And soon enough, the death of the missing boy would be revealed, and hopefully Manalo’s plan would work.

If Manalo received the word, they would assassinate the mayor, or anyone who posed a threat. Anyone. The mercenaries might be blamed, but this untrustworthy bunch wouldn’t keep the secrets of the Communists, and Manalo saw the critical nature of the coming days as he stared into the night sky and analyzed all these insomniac thoughts.

One thing was essential—the American woman had to leave the Philippines as soon as the funeral was over. Her continued presence was a threat that the higherups would not tolerate. In all his years as a rebel fighter, Manalo had never killed a woman. He dreaded such a thought, was unsure if he even could. But others would not hesitate. And with his family in the clutches of Comrade Pilo, he was in no position to argue.

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