Their eyes sparkled with wonder when the young village boys saw the glinting gold, treasure hidden from the world for seventy years by frightened Japanese soldiers in the mountains of the Northern Philippines fearing capture by the triumphant American troops sweeping through the liberated country.
Innocently, the boys trusted a local politician to help them, but the wily SENATOR ENRIQUE CONSUELO was running short on funds and needed it for his election campaign. The boys had to lose the gold and their lives in the furtherance of Consuelo’s political ambitions.
Unfortunately for the politician, there was a witness to the murders. A retired US marine, PAUL MC.CAIN was hiking in the hills photographing the local wildlife. Unseen, he witnesses, and documents, the boys’ sad demise.
Seeking retribution, and to line his own pockets, Paul seeks to blackmail Consuelo but underestimates the old man’s power and skill. Consuelo’s men try to kill him but he escapes to Manila with the evidence.
Consuelo wants to become the President of the Philippines and election day is approaching. It is a race between Paul, who tries to seek out lawmakers who are not in league with the politician, and Consuelo, who is desperate to find Paul and silence him. The senator is favourite to win the election, so if he can survive politically until then he will be too powerful to touch.
Paul manages to convince a group of powerful politicians and military men what has happened, but they need more proof before exposing Consuelo’s crimes and corruption. Paul knows how to get it but can they get it in time.
With hours to spare their case is proved and the current outgoing President agrees to have Consuelo arrested, but can they do it before the senator is proclaimed the victor.
On the day of the announcement, and on the stage in front of the returning officer, Consuelo is arrested and dragged screaming away. Paul is there to document the scene.
With the senator in jail, his friends and family begin to desert him like rats from a sinking ship. Authorities begin to seize his considerable asset, while his once loyal henchmen, TOM, BRIAN and SIMON realise their master’s cause is hopeless and make their own arrangements for the future, with what’s left of the senator’s money.
His young and pretty wife CHLOE fears she will lose everything. She decides she must put herself and their children first and escape the country with whatever she can. Reluctantly, she realises that the only way to protect what she has managed to save is for her husband to die and for her to disappear.
After an emotional goodbye, she arranges for her husband to be poisoned, then heads for the airport and her new life.
Targeted Age Group:: 18 – 65+
What Inspired You to Write Your Book?
I lived in the Philippines for ten years and witnessed firsthand the bribery, corruption and violence there, especially if you were a foriegner. I decided to write about it in a series of novels.
How Did You Come up With Your Characters?
The major characters are based on some larger than life characters living in the Philippines. Lawlessness abounds there – the police, politicians and armed forces are the worst offenders. It was easy to find characters to put in my books
As Virgil entered the gloomy cave, the crate, soaking wet from the downpour outside, slipped from his grasp. He stumbled to his knees. A sharp crack resonated through the cave as Kodama pulled the trigger. A Shooting pain in Virgil’s left side sapped his remaining energy as the bullet entered his side. His emaciated old body crumpled onto the dusty stones. There was an ominous ‘crack’ as his skull fractured. A trail of blood seeped from under him—the close range shot had shattered his kidney and punctured his lung. The young Japanese ofﬁcer pointed his still smoking Nambu pistol at one of the younger men cowering in the corner. “You! Pick it up.” The lad scrambled forward to take Virgil’s place, trying to stay alive at least for a few more minutes. Breath came in painful gasps for Virgil, but he could still see what was happening around him. The screams of his youngest daughter, Racquel, ﬁlled the air. Other villagers cowered in the nooks and recesses of the cavern.
“No. Please, I beg you, no. No hurt me, please.” Her broken sobs fractured her feeble English. She was less than ten feet from him, but there was nothing he could do for her. She lay on the ground in a state of near undress, with ﬁrm hands holding her writhing body. The sergeant and his men laughed as if drunk. Two of them held an arm each. She’d lost her blouse in the tussle and her breasts wobbled as she struggled. “Hold her. How can I do it if she won’t keep still?” barked the sergeant. The exertion and the heat made the fat and balding man sweat. Virgil’s head now lay on the ﬂoor with blood dripping from the corner of his mouth, his eyes wide open facing the appalling scene. The third soldier wrestled with the struggling girl’s skirt, but her squirming made it difﬁcult and he lost patience. Bunching the ragged cloth to one side with his ﬁst, he sawed through the material in seconds; the nakedness of the girl was complete. She sobbed with shame at her nudity. Blood oozed from the cut in her side; his knife had slashed her as he stripped away her clothes. Virgil did not die soon enough. As his sight faded, he saw his daughter’s futile ﬁght. She raised her head to see the lifeless body of her father and sobbed louder. “I sorry, Father – I so sorry,” she wailed as the sergeant loomed over her. Hito inserted his sword expertly between her shoulder blades bringing her suffering to an end. Lieutenant Kodama surveyed the bloody scene. “Quickly, get the rest inside, You know what to do. Search the forests— don’t let these animals get away.” His soldiers ﬁnished off the remaining villagers and carried the limp remains inside, piling them up like animal carcasses next to the stacked wooden cases. A few men broke off and ran to the forest to make sure none had escaped. The village was now empty. Chickens and goats wandered aimlessly. Earlier in the day the villagers had prepared a meal for the soldiers, and it was still laid out on tables in the village square. The starving men did not waste the roasted meat. They hadn’t eaten well for a week.
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