INSANE RAINS

CHAPTER 9 - Mr. Tan

"We've searched him in their stead and in Banaue but they're not there. Their neighbors have no knowledge of where they are." A goatee man reported to Mr. Tan, who was upset and mad of not retaliating fully and not getting his treasure - the briefcase. Mr. Tan never respited or rested to let the Domingo family taste the bitterness of death even he had acquired the life of his mortal enemy, Ben and his wife and son. He never included in his list to leisure until he would eliminate the remnant of the Domingo family. He killed no time to pursue Billy. Nowise.

Mr. Tan beat the table in front of him as he said with a whip of Chinese accent, "Find him! Get my treasure and pound his head. Get your ass off the couch and move!" The goatee man nervously moved out because he was thoughtful of Mr. Tan's brutal taking lives: scraping the face using a razor, garroting or throttling, cutting off your members, burning your burns by scourging again and again, or burning you to ashes, but the usual kind of killing he was executing was firing a gun to the eye-sockets leaving the bloody-empty orbit where you could see through the blasted brain. He had wanted everyone to sense the torment of hell if he would not obey his commands, or if he failed to execute the commands. He was a bloodthirsty, morphinist c******n. He learned to use morphine at the age of thirteen to sedate and to diminish the sensation of angst when he developed generalized anxiety disorder after the death of his mother and father amid buy-bust operation in Tianjin, China - where Mr. Tan was reared and raised. After killing Police General Wang Yue, he chose to exile in America where he became a member of Ten Horns, where he got all his wealth and power. In 1990, he, with his brother - Mr. Chi Tan, was assigned to hold the neck of the Philippine government in all his ways and to take over the authority and sovereignty for him to enliven their agenda.

"How's our business with Mr. Famorca?" Mr. Tan asked as he subsided his madness, and took some sip of a Brandywine from Spain.

"Successful. No hassles, master." Replied by a high-headed man in the embodiment of Wensly Pamas, who was bearing a title The Mikado for being a poo-bah, and felt that Heaven smiled at his successful transaction. Pamas placed the traveling bag on the table in front of them, and unzipped it showing piled-bundled Philippine peso bills.

"I like the way you work Wensly. A reward should be given to someone like you." Mr. Tan handed off to Pamas a bundle of five thousand bills. Pamas played the bills in his fingers, flickered them in front of the other men. Pamas lit up the m*******a-cigarette, which was rolled up in paper.

"Santelmo! Ready your men. We have a client this afternoon at Magsaysay Avenue, the same meeting place. Do not be foolish again to be caught up by these silly blue-uniformed men. I am counting you. One last failure. Eyeballs no more!" Mr. Tan called Santelmo, who was looking the vehicles passing-by through the window, and warned him.

"Yo-entiendo, sir!" Santelmo, known to be Mr Siako Putirno, a Mestizo man whom Mr. Tan helped in progressing his merchandise business, so he was deeply indebted of what he had become.

"What!" Mr. Tan angrily shouted at Santelmo upon responding Spanish, "Are you cursing me?"

"O. No, sir. I mean understand sir." Santelmo stood uprightly in front of him, no glint of fear or antsy or uneasiness in his face, and just smiled. A hard spank came in to the back of his head that allowed him to bend forward, but he just rubbed it and went back to his position, "You made it hard ha-" he said to one of Mr. Tan's bodyguard.

Before Mr. Tan took a rolled m*******a cigarette from the table, he commanded, "Go! I want a successful transaction, get it!"

Santelmo was about to say de inmediato when a bloody eye sockets came back in his mind so he replied lowly, "Right away, sir."

Mr. Tan called on him again, this time he got some throbs in his chest, "How many times did I tell you to call me master?"

"Sor-pardon s- master." He nervously uttered the words. Mr. Tan gestured him to go.

"Did you tell the press what they need to do?" Mr. Tan asked Asher Duit, a journalist and a columnist of Raphler.

He answered him with a whip of smile, "As you've told, master. It will be aired tonight."

"Good!"

"How about featuring me in Raphler's banner?" Mr. Tan asked after he had blown the smoke in the air.

Had not talked, Asher presented to him the broadsheet. It was written in bold capital letters - HOPE OF TOMORROW - and the photo of Mr. Tan having charity work in Pasig City had filled the header of the broadsheet.

Mr. Tan was sowing something to reap in the presidential election. Though he was not qualified to be a candidate of presidency, he had been still doing things that people would remember in the days of election period. He had planned to plant a seed in the Malacanang Palace which he could have power over, and would do what he had conspired or planned. Senator Kiko Venida of Quezon City was the seed he had been germinating for years to run presidency. He has been puppied by Mr. Tan since he had triumphed the municipal election in 2007. Even though the future election will be on May 9, 2022, he had had planted good deeds in both government and non-government programs. He was near to the heart of the poor and the forlorn, and the Catholicism. For now, he had gained the hearts of the majority.

"Money can blind, sweet talks can deafen, good deeds can mute. Those are what power and wealth can do." His demonic laughed echoed in the room where they had been summoned for a meeting.

"This Island had been swarmed by idiotic indios, by these lower-ranked imbecile natives. Need to deescalate the natality and to explode the mortality." Mr. Tan brought this issue out to the self-centered, pythogenic-natives and to the greedy aliens, who were acknowledging every plan he had decided to execute.

One of his accomplices asked as he smoked, "How will you do it?"

"As long as I had got back my treasure. And killed the ones who knew me and my plans. I would be freely making this country a piles of gold."