A Modern Nemo 17

The three Ong brothers were waiting (rather impatiently) at the vast lobby of the Hotel Chalcedon. Their visitors were supposed to arrive an hour-and-a-half ago. Linus was pacing in circles, grumbling. Cyrus was fidgeting in his seat. Only Maximilian, also seated, seemed to keep calm but in reality he was losing his patience with the wait; a lot of ash had already piled up in the ashtray and he had lighted another cigar.

"Just how many of those have you burned up already?" Cyrus asked. Maximilian had acquired his smoking habit from their father but, unlike him, chose cigars instead of cigarettes.

The Hotel Chalcedon was a five-star hotel owned by the Zhang Group, a member of the EOGC. The Zhang Group was headed by Oliver Zhang, the Cardinal's younger brother. Both Oliver's sons, Paul and Andrew, worked there as management-level officers.

Maximilian glanced at his cigar case. There were only three left. "Want one?" he asked, holding the case out to Cyrus. The latter waved it away and shook his head.

"Want another coffee?" asked Maximilian.

"Nah," replied Cyrus. "One more and I'll get insomnia."

"We've been here for almost two hours and Laurie's been calling me for the past thirty minutes!" Linus exclaimed. Laurie was his girlfriend.

"Just who the hell was it who was sent to the airport to pick them up?" wondered Maximilian.

Presently, Cyrus' cell phone vibrated. It was a text message. "Alright," he said. They're here."

"Finally," muttered Maximilian, rising.

"I'll go bring them in," said Cyrus. He rose and made off to the door.

At first, it was just vehicles of the other guests passing by. Suddenly, an EOGC  passenger van moving very erratically -at high speed in a busy street- blundered its way to the hotel entrance, coming to an abrupt stop in front of Cyrus. It narrowly missed him by six inches.

Cyrus froze. Who the heck is this maniac? he thought. He could have killed me!

"Sorry, Mr. Ong," mumbled the driver, who scampered out of the drivers seat and was now cringing in front of him.

Out of the van stepped Petrov, Hayashi and Onodera.

"What's wrong with you?" Onodera said to the driver. "Are you from Afghanistan?"

Anselmo stepped back, his arms raised over his head and whimpering.

Cyrus noticed a sadistic smirk on Petrov's face. "Stop picking on him," he said to Onodera, realizing that Petrov was behind this.

Anslemo hid himself behind Cyrus as the latter went on, "my brothers are waiting inside. Let's all go in."

Turning to Anselmo, he said, "Be back here by eleven o'clock."

Anselmo became paler than a corpse.

"My brothers and I didn't bring our cars, so you're going to bring us back," Cyrus finished.

Anselmo breathed a sigh of relief. On weekdays, the brothers lived separately from their parents and sister. It was only on weekends that they stayed at Ong Manor. Maximilian lived in an condominium in downtown Cagayan while Cyrus, in a villa in Pueblo de Oro, and Linus made his abode in a beach house in Opol and was a neighbor of Leon.

As Cyrus watched Anselmo get back in the van and drive happily away, he followed the three officers into the building.

A Modern Nemo 16

The van was moving slowly. Anselmo kept whimpering and shuddering as he drove. Far at the back, Onodera and Hayashi were talking about what happened on the plane. Between them and Anselmo sat Petrov, his arms folded and eyes closed.

"I was really surprised that there are still some members of that cult hanging around," remarked Hayashi.

"Yeah," agreed Onodera. "That group should have been disbanded after their failure to take GST."

"Apparently, there are still some die-hards left," Hayashi continued. "Imagine, finding someone sitting next to you and right beside the emergency exit suddenly getting up and screaming the name of their 'master,' then trying to open the emergency exit while the plane's still in flight."

"The pin-down was proper," Onodera declared. "Imagine what would have happened if someone fired a shot at him."

"Both wrists nailed with a knife."

Just then, Onodera changed the topic. "Hey," he said. "Did you notice something?"

Hayashi looked around, then peered out the window. "Yeah," he said. "We're moving really slow."

Petrov opened his eyes.

"Somebody kill me. Somebody kill me. Somebody kill me," mumbled Anselmo.

A hand landed on his shoulder, sending shivers up his spine. He felt Petrov's breath behind his neck.

"We're moving slowly," said the general. "Is something wrong with the engine or," he ran a finger in circles on Anselmo's nape, "you're so tired and need a little motivation?"

"Sir, no, sir!" Anselmo shrieked. He shifted to fourth gear and put the pedal to the metal. The van sped to Cagayan, full speed.

A Modern Nemo 15

The surveillance team was instructed to turn the matter over to the Japanese police. Nothing EOGC-related had been noticed so far. A day later, operatives of the Japanese police nabbed the businessman and his two associates in a sting operation. Close to sixty other people were arrested as well for their involvement in the transaction.

Laguindingan International Airport.

Anselmo Sanchez drove an official van to the EOGC arrivals area. Nobody else was available and somebody had to pick up a trio of VIPs. He was told they would call him by name, so he had to wear his nameplate.

Of course, Anselmo didn't like the added job. Driving to Laguindingan would take him past the end of his shift; then he would have to drive them to their designated hotel. He grumbled about being very late to spend the evening barhopping with his friend the judge and sent him a text message to that effect.

"I hate this," he muttered as he parked the van. "JT's gonna be disappointed. Well, I hope those bigshots will make it worth the wait!"

He got off and slammed the door then opened the side door and stood by, pouting and his hands in his trouser pockets. 

The people were passing by. Some were throwing their arms around friends and family members. Others were exhausted from the trip. Still others disembarked to meet subordinates, co-workers or superiors.

Yeah, yeah, Anselmo thought to himself. All nice and peachy. You get to finish your day's work while I get stuck with a bunch of bigshots beyond my work hours.

Just then, he remembered. These were VIPs. Oh yeah! I'll put up my best face! Then I'll be sure to get a raise... or better yet, a promotion!

He turned around to clear his throat for a little rehearsal. He put his left hand on his chest and flung his right in the air. "Hello ladies and gentlemen!" he exclaimed. "Welcome to Cagayan de Oro!"

"No, that was to ostentatious," he said, catching himself.

"Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen," he said with a bow. "Welcome to Cagayan de Oro."

He caught himself again. "Nah, too formal."

As he was about to try another style, he heard a voice behind him. "Anselmo? Anselmo Sanchez?"

Immediately he spun about with a big smile on his face. "Welcome to Caga-" he said as he turned. But when he stopped, he finished with a "yike!"

Standing in front of him were three EOGC high-ranking military officers, the dreaded leaders of the Sniper Division: Brigadier General Arkady Petrov, Lieutenant Colonel Shizuo Onodera and Major Ryuichi Hayashi. Major Hayashi was Sister Cathy's older brother.

Anselmo went pale all over. Somebody, please kill me. he thought. He had once developed a crush on Sister Cathy, only to have her older brother send him flying into dumpster.

He was also shot at several times by Onodera for taking a dump behind a target on a firing range he thought was just abandoned land. He had been driving for several hours at that time from Surigao City, needed to relieve himself somewhere, parked the car, bungled through a barbed wire fence and settled down behind the target. Thankfully, none of the bullets made their mark (or Onodera was probably shooting at something else.)

And more than everyone else, he hated Petrov. On at least two occasions, he blundered into the general's crosshairs. The only reason Petrov stopped was because he was able to get a good look at Anselmo's face. There were a number of other things Anslemo knew about Petrov, including the latter's lack of interest in women, which put him on the edge whenever the general was in town.

The presence of the trio reduced Anselmo into a pale white whimpering heap of humanity. It was Petrov who called his name and the general was holding a small scrap of paper in his hand.

"Well, it's time," said Onodera. "Let's go."

"Y-y-y-y-yes... sir..." Anselmo squeaked as he shuffled back to the driver's seat.

As they drove back to Cagayan, Onodera  and Hayashi were having a conversation, Anselmo remained pale and white at the wheel and drove like a snail. Petrov's eyes were on him.

A Modern Nemo 14

In a high-end restaurant in Tokyo a wealthy man with many underworld connections was having a western-style dinner with two associates in a private room. Outside the room, the man's bodyguards were standing watch.

A waiter pushing a cart carrying a large tureen of soup from the kitchen entered the elevator to take his cargo to the eminent guest. There was no one else inside the elevator. As it went up, the waiter fished out a small plastic packet from his vest pocket and poured its contents -a clear liquid- into the soup.

The bodyguards saw the elevator doors open and noticed the waiter heading towards them. 

"Stop," said the leader of the bodyguards, holding out a hand. The waiter stopped and the leader looked at him from head to foot.

He was a very unassuming figure; rather skinny but cheerful, young and plain-looking. As the other guards frisked him, the leader lifter the tureen's lid. There was nothing inside but hot, steaming soup. Nothing was found on him, so it was assumed it was safe.

"Alright, let him through," the leader said to the men at the door.

The waiter entered the room, bringing his cargo with him. As the dinner went on, business as usual, he set the tureen on the table, ladled soup into the bowls of each of the guests and left, pushing the cart. Once back inside the elevator, the waiter pulled out his cell phone and sent a text message.

In another building on the other side of the street, a hotel, several people were in a room with surveillance equipment. One of them received a text message: the soup has been served. "It's done," he said.

Immediately, the others turned to their listening and spying equipment.

Upon leaving the elevator, the waiter didn't return to the kitchen. Instead, he left the cart next to the kitchen door, donned a jacket and left through the back door. He went around the restaurant and crossed the street to the hotel. He went up to the room where the surveillance team was gathered and knocked on the door.

It was opened by a taller man wearing glasses and whose hair was cut close to his head and dyed blond. "Good," he said, "you're back."

The waiter went in and removed his jacket, vest and bow tie. "So how much longer?" he asked the people listening in on the conversation.

"Just a little more," came the reply.

"That was a lot of sodioum thiopental," the waiter remarked.

"Well, better to be certain," said the tall man.

Them came the recordings

A deep voice: "So the money will soon be delivered. I'll expect the delivery of the substance in the next month."

"That's our quarry," the tall man stated.

A mumbling voice: "As usual, it will be coursed through your junk foods factory."

"That's good," said the deep voice. "But I want extra precautions because this one's quite large."

"That can be arranged," said the mumbling voice.

"It will be arriving at the port of Yokohama on the Foresight," said a sharp voice. "All two thousand metric tons hidden in containers loaded with potatoes."

"Foresight?" the waiter started. That was a Green Oceans vessel.

The deep voice laughed. "That Konstantiniadis! We may have brokered some of his deals with that shipbuilder in China but left us out on the action, but that's okay. He's given us some favorable concessions in using his ships."

"Looks like we have Konstandiniadis as an unwitting helper," the waiter murmured.

The tall man nodded. "And that will be good for us in the long run, Ryuichi," he added. "But what about his pirate dealings?"

"Shh! It's coming!"

"Recovery of the potatoes and curry from the Aden shipment was worth it, even if it was expensive," said the deep voice. "At least we can slip the merchandise past customs."

Just then, a knock sounded on the door. It was opened and another man stepped in. "Major Hayashi, Lieutenant Colonel Onodera," he said to the waiter and the tall man, "General Petrov wants a word with you."

"Keep me posted on this," said the tall man to the surveillance team.