Chapter Six

  The plane had been circling Manila’s Nino Aquino International Airport for fifteen minutes waiting the opportunity to land. Arthur had spent the hours praying about two things. He prayed for God’s divine protection and guidance for this mission. There was no doubt that something serious was going on. He had sensed it in prayer a month before Uncle Pedro called him. He still didn’t know any specifics to pray about. Right now God was mum on what He wanted Arthur to do.

  Grandpa had always told him that God would let him know His will at an appropriate time. If God told us too early, we would have a chance to be afraid and back out. There was no such thing as God telling you too late. Too late was just that, too late.

  Sneaking into his reach into God’s heart concerning the mission was the scene that had played out in the park. Arthur tried and tried to replay the scene to make some kind of sense out of what Marci had said.

  What she had said? More importantly, Arthur was trying to figure out what she had meant. He had wanted to hold her in his arms and tell her how much he loved her. His heart ached to make some kind of stronger connection with his best friend. But, her words seemed to rebuff him.

  He tried to settle the question in his heart but it was going to be difficult. For the better part of the last two years, his friendship for her had turned to love. And, like all lovers, he had played out scenarios in his mind. It had become a constant source of joy for him. Now, he had to find something to keep his mind from replaying those good parts. It was rough job.

  He was haunted by the idea that maybe she wasn't God's mate for him. She was pretty well convinced that God was urgently pushing her toward being a doctor. Maybe He was calling her into the research field. Maybe He was.

  One thing he knew for sure, this airplane was circling over the area where he KNEW that God was calling him to. He wasn't sure why and he wasn't exactly sure what. But it was definately settled in his heart that this group of islands was his mission field alright.

  As he silently prayed and recommitted his heart to God's purpose, the calming love of the Lord began to settle inside of him. Arthur knew that God had a mate for him that would share God's calling. He dropped the question of IF Marci was his mate or not. God was well able to let him know who and when.

  Arthur looked out the window of the plane as it taxied toward Gate 12. The scenes had become quite familiar to him now. This was his sixth trip to Manila to spend the summer with his Uncle Pedro.

  It was a peculiar coincidence that Pedro’s son had one of the foremost martial arts studios in Manila. Then again, all of the martial arts studios in Manila thought they were the best. Believe you me, it made for some very, very interesting tournaments. The American World Series and Super Bowl had nothing on them.

  Arthur looked out the window of the plane and saw one of his favorite gentlemen, Bull. He was the guy who drove the baggage train. He got that nickname by the way he drove the train on the tarmac. He was a pretty big dude. He was over 6 foot tall and had to tip the scales at 275 at least. His belly almost looked abnormally jello-like as the train bounced and jostled its way toward the plane.

  Yep, he still had the Atlanta Braves baseball hat Arthur gave to him three years ago. For a short moment, Arthur wondered if Bull was just wearing the hat to impress him because he knew he was coming. However, when he got a good look at the hat and saw how worn it was, he dismissed that thought altogether. As a matter of fact, as worn as it looked, Arthur figured that it’s about time for another one.

  Man, that guy had one of the biggest smiles that Arthur had ever seen. Look at him. He was waving the hat back and forth at the plane and shouting, “Hey, Arthur.” All the while he was scanning the plane looking for their familiar faces. Arthur grinned and waved back at the off chance that Bull could see him.

  Arthur's smile disappeared and a little tear began to find its way down his cheek. ‘Dear God,’ Arthur thought, ‘how in the world am I going to tell him about Grandpa?’ He rested his head on the window of the plane and shook it back and forth.

  “Sir, are you all right?” the flight attendant asked.

  Arthur looked up and saw the stewardess leaning over towards him with a concerned look on her face. A quick scan of the plane told him that he was about the only one left. “Oh, I’m sorry,” he said as he scooped up his stuff. “I…uh...this is the... the first flight without my great-grandfather.”

  The stewardess looked at him for a moment before she asked, “Then, this is not your first trip?”

  “No, Ma’am,” he replied, “it’s my sixth, actually.”

  She slapped her hands to her face, “Weren’t you eleven when you made your first trip?”

  Arthur looked at her with a surprised smile, “Why, yes, I was.”

  “This just can’t be,” she exclaimed as she put one hand on her hip and rested her other arm on the back of a seat. “And your great-grandfather always sat up real straight, had a head full of solid white hair and you were so-o-o-o-o excited about learning to be a Ninja.”

  A big, embarrassed grin blossomed on his face as he asked, “You remembered all of that?”

  The stewardess started helping Arthur collect his things as she babbled on, “You remember me? I was the one who served the meals and the snacks on your first two flights.” She waved her free hand toward her hair and continued, “Of course, my hair was a different color, and, she patted her hip, “I have added a little more ballast---just so I’ll be evenly balanced don’t you know.”

  As she started down the aisle with some of Arthur’s stuff, she leaned to one side. “See what I mean?” she quipped with a giggle. Of course, that brought out one of those Arthur Hollis giggles that he was so famous for.

  When they stepped off the plane and started walking down the ramp, she commandeered a small cart and plopped his stuff on it. Over his objections she took command and gave him the VIP service by guiding him through several short cuts. They zipped past the concourse and on toward the baggage area. She had cut off at least twenty minutes and probably a mile of walking.

  “Holey moley,” Arthur exclaimed as he hurried to keep up, “you sure know your way around.”

  “It's part of being a stewardess," she answered. “Sometimes they only give you a few minutes to catch the next….uh, oh, what’s this?” She slowed down as she looked ahead.

  Arthur turned his attention from looking at her to the commotion in front of them. About half way to the baggage claim area, Bull’s hulking figure was draped around Pedro and his son Diego. The three of them were in tears. Bull’s sobs could be heard above the rumble of the baggage belt. When he looked up for a moment to catch his breath, he caught site of Arthur.

  “Arthur!” He cried out as he hobbled his huge frame in their direction. “Bull sorry, Arthur. Bull hurt bad inside for his friend, Tom.” He was crying so hard that Pedro and Diego had to help him walk. Bull’s father was one of the younger boys that his great-grandfather had befriended in the mountains of Luzon during the war. Bull’s limp and slow mental capacity were due to complications that his mother had during childbirth. However, what he lacked in his emotional stability he overcame by his big, loving heart.

  Arthur hurried over to him and the stewardess went on to get his bags. They all cried and consoled each other. People walked by. Some shook their heads. Some patted one or two of them on the back.

  The stewardess came back about the time everyone started settling down. As she set Arthur’s bags down, she walked up to Bull and threw an arm around the big man’s shoulder. “Bull, are you OK?” she asked.

  As he finished wiping his eyes, he breathed a deep sigh and answered, “Yes, Missy Bea. Bull hurt deep but glad to know good friend Tom go be with Jesus.”

  She hugged his shoulders and assured him, “He’s much happier now and he would want us to be happy with him, now wouldn’t he?”

  Bull’s eyes widened at the thought. “Yes. Yes! Bull will be happy WITH Tom. Oh, oh, oh, oh. Tonight is church.
Bull tell song leader only sing fast happy songs of heaven. Turn up music. Maybe Tom will hear.” His laughter at his own idea almost filled the entire airport. He turned and walked back to work as he sang………something.

  Bea, Pedro and Diego all chuckled as they watched him walk away. Arthur chuckled also but not quite as free as the others. Maybe it was the jet lag, maybe the letdown of leaving his best friends. A good part of it was his talk with Marci. He chastised himself, 'Arthur, snatch that thought out of your mind and throw it away. God's mate in God's time. Settle it.'

  “Well, I’m glad to see a smile come to that plastic face of yours, Sweetie,” Bea scolded as she stepped in front of him with her arms folded. “Here I am the most beautiful female around and all you can do is look at the floor and mope. You hadn’t made a pass at me or an off-color joke. I suppose you’re waiting for me to turn into a cougar and chase you around the baggage claim area, huh?”

  Pedro added with a grin, "If you took a look at his laptop, you could see why. It's filled with pictures of him and a certain lovely lady."

  "O-o-o-o-o-o-o, no wonder," Bea said with a wink in his direction.

  Diego spoke to Bea but playfully looked at Arthur, “However, on Mayumi’s laptop, she doesn’t have as many pictures of our guest.”

  Arthur smiled and looked away.

  Diego continued, “That’s because she doesn’t allow pictures of Arthur and you-know-who.”

  Bea raised her eyebrows and shook her head as she rubbed it in, “O-o-o-o, a little rivalry, huh, Mr. Studly?”

  “Marci wants to be a doctor and do research stuff and Mayumi's just fourteen,” Arthur protested uselessly.

  “You haven’t seen her in nine months, my boy,” Pedro declared in a disdaining fatherly tone. “She hit a growth spurt like you couldn’t imagine. You DID notice that she hasn’t sent you any pictures, lately, huh?”

  Diego agreed, “Oh, yeah.”

  “Well, I…” Arthur stammered.

  Bea interrupted and said, “Folks, I gotta go get ready for my next flight.” She reached down and grabbed one of Arthur’s bags. She handed it to Pedro and said, “Here, Bo Bo, take this bag for your grandson-in-law.”

  “Hey, I’m not…” Arthur tried to protest.

  “The name is Pedro,” came the playful protest.

  “Oh, did I say Bo Bo? I meant to say Boo Boo. That’s more appropriate,” Bea asserted as she tilted her head to the side just a bit.

  Pedro stepped over to her and slipped his finger under her chin. “You are the only one I would let call me that.”

  “I know it,” she said very sweetly.

  Arthur thought the touching of her face, and the almost demure answer was a tad bit strange. Then, Pedro leaned over and kissed her RIGHT ON THE LIPS.

  For the moment, Arthur was speechless. He looked at Diego and he was looking the other way. Arthur busied himself with fiddling with one of his bags in hopes they didn’t see him watching them.

  After Pedro’s quick peck, Bea stepped beside Arthur and pressed her cheek against his and said, “Bye-bye, lover boy.”

  She began to walk away, but Arthur stopped her, “Bea, could you come back here for a minute?”

  She turned around and returned to her original spot side by side with him. He felt his face getting warm as he asked with a grin, “Would you mind if I get another smell of your perfume?”

  She was pleasantly surprised and asked, “My perfume?”

  “Yeah, it smells….like…….vanilla….or almonds,” he answered. “I…really like it.”

  “O-o-o-k-a-a-y. I’ll stand still and you can sniff away, Sugar.”

  Arthur wasn’t timid. He stepped up, put his hand on her shoulder and sniffed right behind her ear. He leaned back for a moment but didn’t let her go. He smiled and leaned in for one more sniff. Finally he declared, “That is the most fantastic perfume I have ever smelled. What’s the name of it, if you don’t mind me asking, that is?”

  “Not at all, Sugar,” she said. With a sweet smile she continued, “The name of it is Mahal Tunog. That’s Filipino for Love Sound. It’s manufactured and sold only here on the island.” She cocked her head sideways and offered, “If you’ll have dinner with me sometime, I’ll……tell you how you can get some of it.”

  A big smile came across Arthur’s reddening face as Pedro pulled him away, and said, “Later, Bea. We’re lucky Mayumi hasn’t called me already.”

  Before she turned to leave, she reached down and squeezed Arthur’s hand. Arthur wasn’t as good as Marci at reading people’s faces, but there was something ……kind of…….sad….maybe in the last fleeting look she gave. As she walked away with her head down, she reached up and wiped something from her eye. Was it a tear? It could have been some dust an eyelash or anything.

  Without hesitation, Pedro and Diego grabbed a bag and headed for the entrance. Arthur picked up his back pack and his laptop and followed them. It seemed like Diego couldn’t keep his eyes off of the women. Funny he never noticed that before. But, that was Diego’s business and none of Arthur’s.

  Once outside, the three of them wasted no time in breaking into a sweat. It didn’t take much. The three o’clock temperature had already reached 85 degrees. The almost daily afternoon rains had left it muggy as usual. The three of them walked briskly into the parking lot and over to Pedro’s car.

  “Let’s see if we can put these bags into the trunk,” Pedro suggested. He popped open the lid to reveal a completely empty trunk with the exception of a tire jack and a small tool box.

  Arthur was about to comment on the empty trunk when Pedro looked at him sternly and pursed his lips as if to say, “Sh-h-h-h-h.”

  Diego commented, “I don’t know, Dad. We might just have to put one in the back seat with Arthur.”

  Arthur looked at Diego with a half-smile expecting some kind of joke.

  Diego cut his eyes toward him without moving his head and almost imperceptibly shook his head.

  Pedro continued, “No, no. I think we can get them all in here. We just have to arrange them carefully. He placed the bag he was carrying into the trunk one way, ran his hands over it as if he was smoothing it out. He looked at Diego and said, “No, I think we would have more room if we put it like this.” He flipped it over and, again, smoothed it out. “Now, let me see something,” he said as he turned it sideways and tucked it into the back of the trunk. Before he took his hand off of it, he turned it for the two others to see. There was a small trickle of blood coming from his index finger.

  Diego admitted as he placed the bag he was carrying into the trunk, “You are absolutely correct, Dad. We’ve got plenty of room.”

  Something was up and Arthur had no idea what it was. So, without comment he placed his back pack and laptop in the trunk. Pedro closed it and they took their seats in the car.

  As Pedro pulled out of the parking space, Diego took out an old CD of a group called Petra. When the music came on, he cranked the base just a little bit more than normal and then adjusted the sound to where it only came through the rear speakers. It dawned on Arthur that, somehow, his baggage had been bugged. That explained the blood on Pedro’s finger when he got through ‘smoothing out’ Arthur’s baggage.

  Diego turned around in his seat until he was almost facing Arthur. He put a pad of paper on his lap and began to write on it as he smiled real big and confided in Arthur, “Look, Pal, we’ll talk to you in earnest after we get home. For right now just play along, make gestures, shake your head and so forth as if we’re having a conversation.”

  Diego himself had become animated. He pointed out the window, laughed in the middle of a sentence and patted Pedro on the shoulder. Pedro shook his head and laughed, too.

  “Hang on. I’m going to make a right turn onto the freeway,” Pedro stated.

  “I gotcha,” replied Diego. As the car sped up, he continued to animatedly talk as he wrote on the pad of paper. “A blue Toyota sedan…a white panel van with the words………….uh, name
ByMoust Construction. The sedan is passing us. I’ll put a letter ‘P’ beside that one. ByMoust is fixing to pass us, too. Coupla guys with turbans. Watch out they don’t cut us off.”

  The white panel van sped by and pulled back in Pedro’s lane but at a safe distance. Pedro said, “Double plate, STD 814.” The van slowly pulled away from them.

  Diego continued, “Black Beamer coming up close behind us. Red Landrover behind him followed by-y-y-y ….a white Lamborghini, my friend.”

  “That’s Ok, Diego. I’ve got them in my sights, now. Thanks.”

  They rode along in silence for about ten minutes. He heard Pedro whistle softly. He looked up and Pedro nodded for him to come closer. As Arthur sat up between the two front seats, Pedro began, “As you can see, Arthur, things have heated up pretty quickly. Oh, back out of my rear view mirror a little, will you.” Arthur shifted to the right about six inches.

  “Perfect,” Pedro continued. “Their technology has taken a couple of quantum leaps here in the past year, ‘til we’re not too sure how top tech they’ve gotten. As you can tell by the prick on my finger, they bugged your baggage while it was being carried from Bull’s shuttle to the baggage claim area. We have a pretty good idea who they are, and I am afraid that they are getting a pretty good idea of who we are.”

  Diego chimed in, “I could tell you were watching me ogle the women. That was the only way that I could get a decent look at the groups of men that have been hanging out around there lately without being noticed. I’ve come to recognize about three of them as regulars, even when they try to disguise themselves.”

  Pedro shook his head and added, “It’s heating up, son. It is really heating up. Our intelligence has advised us that they think something will go down at our village within the next two months.”

  “Unc. That’s in the middle of the rainy season,” Arthur noted.

  “Yeah. The better to hide their tracks and the least likely that patrols will be out unless it’s an emergency,” Pedro answered dully.

  “Guess we’re going in, huh?” Arthur surmised.

  “Yep. But we just don’t know when,” Pedro answered as his hands gripped and ungripped the steering wheel. “They had terrorized several of the neighboring villages two months ago. It looked like they were poised to head straight for it, but they just stopped for some reason. We’ve got a band of guys standing by just in case something starts up again. Our spies tell us they have set up camp about five miles away as if they were gonna stay for a while. Maybe they are going to establish some kind of headquarters in that part of the jungle. We just don’t know. Nobody can quite put their finger on it. It’s like they are waiting for something to trigger their next move.”

  “So we can’t make a move until they do, is that right?” Arthur asked.

  Diego added, “They could be waiting to infiltrate our network and surprise us somehow. They could also be looking for a target to kidnap for ransom. The worst part is we found out last month that the latest martial arts center to spring up in Manila is nothing but a training camp for the terrorists. They’ve got a great training set up, alright. However, the funny thing is, none of their clients are from around here. We sent one of our guys over there to try to register for their classes. They told him they were all booked up for the next two years.”

  “That’s sounds like a blatant give away to me,” Arthur replied. “Have you tried to find out anything about their students?”

  Pedro answered, “Sure have. Fifteen out of the twenty have ties to the same terrorist organization. The guess is that the other five do also.”

  Diego continued, “That’s where we would like for you to volunteer for us.”

  “Sure. Anything you need.”

  “We’ve set up a round robin tournament with the eight top martial arts studios in the area. We don’t necessarily expect to win. We just want to get a better look at their group without having to be at their studio and act like we’re snooping,” Diego said.

  Pedro cautioned, “We know that it could also be a two-edged sword. They would be around us and could ask a whole lot of questions. As a matter of fact, that’s just what we hope they’ll do.”

  “Feed them some mis-information, huh?”

  Pedro looked at him via the rear-view mirror and added with a smile, “We already have. You dislocated your left shoulder and it still bothers you. However, being the trooper that you are, you TRY not to let it show.”

  “What?” Arthur laughed. “You can’t be serious. There’s nothing wrong with my shoulder. They would figure that out in no time. Hey, I’ve been told twice in the past three days that my face is an open book. Anyone can take one look and tell what’s going on.”

  “Precisely what we’re counting on,” Pedro continued. “That’s why we’ve got a lot of work cut out for us in the next two weeks before the tournament. Diego, himself is going to work with you at his house. We’ve built you a room just behind his so you won’t have to be traveling back and forth from mine.”

  “That’s awful convenient,” Arthur said with a smile. “Do I have any input into this?”

  Diego turned to face him. Not even a hint of a smile was visible. “Think of it, Arthur,” his voice close to ominous. “If they do know who we are like we suspicion, what would be our…….my worst fear. What could virtually paralyze us?”

  A cold chill ran over Arthur as the unthinkable shook his heart. “Mayumi,” he almost whispered. His eyes became a blank stare and he was no longer interested in talk.

  Diego turned around and watched the road. The three of them had spent a lot of time and prayer together. They knew each other’s hearts by now. Nothing else needed to be said.