Prologue

PROLOGUE

THE SALUAG INCIDENT
July 27, 2002 1200H

MARIKO YASHIDA was in her mid-20s. Many would call her handsome, because she had a boyishness about her. Her clipped short hair reminds one of young teenage boys engrossed with puppy love and learning how to say "I like you."

She was neither erotic nor invited such thoughts in the opposite sex. She often wore her blouse and trousers, like today, in a very restrained way. Her choice colors were light brown, sky blue and she put on as little make up as she can. There was nothing unfeminine nor masculine about it; it was just simply that she didn't like wasting time for chores or activities she had lined up for the day painting her face.

People gravitate toward her though. That was because they quickly get along well with her, or at least that is what they think. Mariko had that unique muted, gentle effect upon everyone.

She simply could make anyone, just about anyone, feel at ease.

Mariko’s hands went up to her face. She was almost about to nibble on her fingernails, but her better sense took over; she retracted the hand at once.

She had a happy childhood. While her mother worked away from home, sometimes she thought going up to the ends of the world when she was a kid, everyone was there to fill up for her mom's sometime absences. Her dad most of all, always gave her a sense of security. For this reason, many people described her as serene, a calming presence and a very subtle person.

While deep inside she knew she would be comfortable in hip hop getups, or funky or even punk wear, as many kids in Japan had tried once or more than once in their lives, she often went out of the house wearing something subdued.

She never tried not to be in complicated situations, in fact she longed -- no yearned was the better term -- for them. Frequently, she would be shocked at herself saying, "Today, I'd look for something dangerous to plunge into!" Of course, that never happened but sometimes she would get into a little bind and never felt scared just because. Of course, she and many other Japanese knew, it was easy to find something dangerous in the red light districts or some other dinghy spot in Japan where they practice BSDM to the extremes and nearly or sometimes even actually, kill the objects of their desire.

In all of her twenty five years, though, there was nothing like this. She was never confronted by so much foul smelling blood, bile, human feces and decaying flesh blackened by the elements — neither so much as been near it. There were too many corpses she had to come to terms with, reeking of a powerful stench that upset her beyond her sense of smell. It touched something deep within her that she couldn’t put her finger on.

This tableau met her and fellow members of the International Committee of Red Cross (ICRC) contingent, first to respond on the dreary landscape of the island of Saluag, along Sibutu Pass, southwestern most in the Philippine archipelago. Her very first brush with true to life horror. She passed the stage of graduating from the guidelines, the stories and the anecdotes she read in her Emergency Medical Technician’s Manuals and all the reference materials she and her fellow trainees had conscientiously studied.

She was standing at the passenger’s side of a gray military version of the Toyota Land Cruiser mini truck. The truck was now a Field Litter Ambulance (FLA) of the Air Force. Here at the site, the ambulance was on loan to the Red Cross.

She looked up – as if to say a prayer and saw Philippine Air Force Major Ramon Signes – who was leading the security complement in behalf of the Philippine Government as he panned across the scene, highly intelligent eyes assessing the scene.

Mariko considered silently, clearly, this was the only deliberate massacre of its magnitude that happened in the last thirty years in Ramon’s country. Her own had its share of bloodletting. All those wars between the kingdoms before Japan finally became one nation. Her eyes watered taking in the sight of more than a hundred eighty bundled corpses. A female body, the only one farthest from the rest – about two hundred meters away was visibly holding with her left hand a strange looking knife.

The road up ahead revealed a light blue painted lightweight balloon-lift, single-wing and single-engine wide body passenger aircraft with extended passenger room. No scratches, neither alterations nor any other defects were on the outside of the aircraft. It was not, however, untouched. Farther ahead, were what remained of another aircraft of still unknown type and make, all gutted up. Mariko slowly alighted from the FLA and started to feel odd about something she could not place: Something was wrong. Definitely wrong. As she joined her fellow Red Cross volunteers, she vowed to find out what it was.

Mariko wandered away from the disentangled, warped mass of bodies in front of her - somewhere deep inside her sickened by what she was experiencing. Indeed, what she had seen was not enough. The disfigured, headless female, all shot up with lead from her legs to her neck beyond the heap beckoned her. Besides the deep punctured injuries, the body showed a few expertly delivered hack wounds from a sharp bolo - severing her head from her body. She appeared to have been executed with impunity. Pieces of her flesh were scattered about her. Mariko asked herself, if she were shot up at close range, certainly she would not have survived.

Noone can revive me after my tormentors were through shooting she thought. Why would anyone still take my head away then? It was as if someone left an imprint of vicious hatred upon the dead woman.

Scattered beside her incongruous frame were a number of minute compact discs.

“Please take care of these Rhea.” Mariko asked a forensic technician to take the CDs.

“Okay.” The young lady forensic investigator lifted the CDs slowly using a rubber glove and a tweezer. She placed them inside a small evidence bag.

The young investigator did not know that the harmless set of discs would later cost a number of lives.

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MORE THAN 100 DEAD IN MINDANAO MISHAP
by Carlo Bangilon
PHILIPPINE NEWS AGENCY

TAWI-TAWI, SULU. July 28, 2002. — A large number of casualties were found yesterday in Saluag Island, just several hours away from Tawi-Tawi, Sulu.

The bodies of more than a hundred dead persons were discovered by fishermen who were on their way to fishing zone in the Celebes Sea.

The place is still presently closed to media but Abbas Kumila, one of the fishermen who found the bodies, was interviewed last night by PNA. Abbas said that the sight was so fearsome, hundreds of people without heads, no more arms, no legs and some had their bodies cut up into two or more parts.

Col. Malik Amondo, commander of the Philippine Marines unit in Jolo who had first visited the site and alerted the responsible authorities about the incident, said “We are mystified about this incident. We will investigate the roots of this.” This was no plane crash. It was something else. Col. Amondo declined to comment further.

Saluag Island, present population 0, is located, along Sibutu Pass, Southwest Mindanao. Residents of nearby barangays, Simunul and Manuk Manka I of Tawi-Tawi, swear that they heard successive volleys of what seemed to be like gunfire. At first they thought it was distant thunder or lightning. But since most of them are familiar with gunshots, they were able to later distinguish the sound as coming from guns.

# # #

2 PLANES DOWN, 180 FOUND DEAD IN MINDANAO
by Dino Mascardo
MINDANAO DAILY GAZZETTE

TAWI-TAWI, 07/28/2002 — A mysterious twist of fate has left no less than one hundred and eighty persons dead in an Island of Tawi-Tawi called Saluag, along Sibutu Pass, in the southwestern most in the Philippine archipelago.

As this report is being filed, the Philippines National Red Cross and the International Red Cross volunteers and Department of National Defense emergency workers are at the scene and managing the incident.

Both local and foreign media await word about when members of the press will be allowed into the place. Some locals who were interviewed here said that fishermen out to fish near Sabah in the Celebes discovered the bodies. They said the sight made them afraid. The locals found hundreds of dead bodies in the island.

A returning supply team from the Philippine Air Force confirmed that as of the last count, one hundred eighty people were accounted for with missing body parts like heads, arms, legs with some bodies cut up into two or more parts. The source who asked not to be identified said that the victims were killed massacre-style. And that indeed, the sight was gruesome.

The governor of Sulu, Walek Harsalaan was in Tawi-Tawi early yesterday and he met with local officials to instruct them to provide support and assistance to the private volunteers and government workers who are now in the site of the incident.

Meanwhile, residents of Simunul Island and Manuk Manka I said that they a series of gunshots from Saluag Island.

# # #

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He was never an Academy man, and yet in some ways, Maj. Ramon Signes was proud of it too. He was proud of himself and what he managed to accomplish. While he was born of civilian parents from one of the Philippines’ oldest districts, Tondo, Ramon had always wanted to do soldiering.

Dreaming and working hard at his dream to follow the footsteps of his family’s forebears. Col. Ramon Domingo II, also known as “RD” and “Hot Rod” to those who knew him well, was a superb pilot and one of the best that ever was in the history of the Philippine Air Force. He fought gallantly against the Japanese. Gen. Artemio Signes fought besides the Great Filipino Hero, Andres Bonifacio against the Kingdom of Spain.

Maj. Signes was named after “Hot Rod” and was an exemplary officer just like him. He earned the monicker of Venus’ Flyboy so that his old fighter jet when he was a lieutenant, also bore the letters. His F-8 Crusader fighter plane has since been grounded by PAF high command not because of all of its drawings of female lips of varying shapes. The parts were really just slow in coming and to Ramon's disgust, he got himself reassigned in the meantime to Rescue, the Philippine Air Force 505th Air Rescue Group that used to be known as the Rescue Wing.

Later, he was seconded to Intelligence and Security, because as his superiors say, he had a way with women. Ramon doubted however, that it was a guaranteed way of gathering intelligence and maintaining security and said to officers and airmen close to him that he resented the transfer because he had come to love the Rescue Wing. The Rescue boys with whom he'd enjoyed working were nearly all here now.

Here and now was at the incident site. The same day of their arrival.

He had just had a brief meeting with Mariko Yashida's group. During the meeting, Mariko’s senior, Dr. Janey Coscolluella could not afford to be — at her best — totally objective. Dr. Janey Coscolluella, was the most senior first responder group's medic on the scene.

She kept repeating, as if to herself and to everyone in the briefing session, the statement that, “This island is such a really, really beautiful place and it was such a waste to spoil it like this!” “God blessed us with such a wonderful island of beaches like this. And now, the enitre world will learn that we have laid it to waste.”

The session did not last long enough since it seemed that everyone else wanted Dr. Janey to come to her senses first. Possibly, when they begin some of the work in earnest, some even whispered.

Now Janey was standing at the lookout point with Ramon. As she also panned over the wreckage and upon the wretchedness in front of her, one by one, the victims, in their severely tattered casual wardrobes, trapped in bizarre poses seemed to call out to her.

While contemplating her tasks that were several and manifold, Dr. Coscolluela could still almost hear the lifeless forms about her, screaming, agonizing. How must they have felt over the onslaught of slugs from at least twenty five high-powered firearms, unable to believe and hoping that by the sound of their chords they might be spared the pain?

She could still picture the grim faces of the gunmen as they poured the hot metallic trajectories onto their prey. Minding not how some of these bodies were cut by half, some contorted beyond recognition while the others’ extremities were severed completely at the points of impact.

Beside her, Maj. Signes, was gesturing animatedly to his subordinates. He commanded the security team backing up her first response team. As he did so, Janey caught his eyes keep darting towards her direction and appeared more than just to approve her deep tan.

Ramon's eyes later followed Jane as she walked toward the operations tent, got busy sorting out tags that the corpses would be identified with. He and Janey were together in Dili, East Timor after the cessation of hostilities and declaration of Timorese Independence. They had both been given citations by Shanana Gusmao himself.

Beneath the doctor's lab coat, Janey wore a nicely tailored suit that enhanced her wonderful curves. She was ravishingly beautiful, in spite of the gruesome sight that surrounded them all in this island.

Looking at the lady doctor, Ramon distinctively knew he had felt something even from back in Dili. However he knew that was something significant, and an issue that would rather have to wait for another day. Anyhow he liked what he saw and he felt good. Janey was a wonderful individual and he could spend hours and hours being with her again like they did after work in Timor, but for the fact that he would only look around him and realize it was hardly the time to flirt.

Meanwhile his conscious mind turned its attention to the beeping of his cellular phone equipped with a small contraption to boost his cell phone’s antenna. He talked momentarily with his brother, Walfredo, an engineer who was working on a building contract in Makati City - the Philippine’s main financial district. Then he called his friend in Manila, Lt. Col. Eugene David to tell him about what he was suddenly involved in. A suspected terrorist attack that killed more than one hundred persons.

Ramon closed his mobile, waved his hand to call three of his staff, reminded and instructed them on what needed to be done in the next few hours.

At the end of the day, Major Signes and one of his men, Sgt. Crispin Rapeno approached Janey inquiring if there was something they could help her with. She apprised them as to her progress and asked them if they could pitch in with certain chores that have to do with formal notification procedures — the arduous task of identification and giving notice to the relatives of all of the casualties who were identified here.

“My dear Major,” she said with her usual strong voice that Ramon knew from Dili, “if I won't be asking too much from you, our Australian-Filipino medic team under the International Red Cross are really hard pressed to handle such matters any further with our hands full of work. Would the army kindly ...”

“Air Force, Jane ... ” he interjected.

“Oh yeah, ha ha!” Janey let out a forced laugh. “Sorry, I keep forgetting.”

“Gladly, of course. Just tell us boys what to do.” Janey did and they set off to work on their tasks later getting glued to their cellular phones and the military radio glad to be of help to the response team beyond their security mandate.

After everyone retired to the mess tent set up for the entire response and security teams, Dr. Janey Coscolluella came back to Major Signes and Sgt. Rapeno again. Her fellow doctors gave her a short time-out that she asked for before supper.

“Oh, sorry again, Major, would the Air Force be kind enough to get the needed help from whatever source it may be able to find ... about the water situation here?” Saluag Island, Janey’s people reported after conducting a survey of the island escorted by Air Force personnel, that there was no potable water source in the immediate area.

“Certainly that had partly been arranged, Jane. We have supply for at least five meals for all of us, and then that would be resupply time.” Signes smiled at her and when she was smiling back, he turned his back before she could see him blushing.

“But we need a lot of water for washing at the doctor’s tent.” Jane called at him when he started to step away.

Maj. Signes could not hide his blushing face anyway, “Oh! Of course! We are set up for that too.” He raised his thumbs up and went to hurriedly fetch his communications sergeant allowing Janey that moment to giggle. She had hoped for a little adversarial tone from the security commander, but decided against that thinking that perhaps there was something else she stumbled upon instead. Maj. Ramon Signes used to shout back at the Australian officers back in Dili when he was given multiple orders at one time and commanded to comply with them yesterday.

She placed her hands on her pockets and managed to get back to her work relieved of some of the tension she was earlier experiencing and glad of it. The bodies were several days old and there was little time left before their serious and accelerated decomposition would begin; no one could ever bear taking it lightly then. That is why they had to work longer hours. No reinforcements seemed to have come early.

As he went back to ground zero, Maj. Signes noted that the aircraft indeed bore no outward signs of being vandalized, nor ruined, but all of its cargo was hauled away. That was the report he got from his security team. The avionics and all the other sections were totally cannibalized. The seats, the carpet, even the upholstering material on the walls were gone. Not even the cabin light bulbs were spared. All cargo bays lay open, stripped bare of contents. The looters swept the entire plane of its commercial cargo as well.

The plane was practically empty on the inside. Not that neither the passengers nor its crew would complain anyhow. In grotesque poses they lay on the beach of this nearly uninhabited area of the Sulu archipelago. It seemed as if the victims, who by the last count numbered 180 in all including the crew desperately tried to shield, to even perhaps comfort, each other from death that appeared most certain.

Nearly a hundred feet away, the other aircraft left little room for imagination. It was in complete disarray. It would take an expert team from the United States federal agency called the National Transportation Safety Board (NTSB) to piece together the evidence at hand to come up with a decent assessment of what happened to the second air plane.

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