In the Dragon's Tail

Chapter 2 - Assignment Abroad

Shay gestured towards the heavy mahogany door to let us in and once again, I was face to face with the little hermit, the old soldier of a bygone era watching over the modern things unfolding before him. Even his room is a reflection of his own personality: a large acacia table in the right corner of the room paired with three butaca chairs, one in the back and two in the front. The thin white curtains filtered the rays of sunlight that spread over the vastness of the carpeted floor, which was made even cozier by the light brown walls where a copy of Felix Resurrección Hidalgo's Marina hangs.

"Morning, Director-General," I greeted meekly, nervous at the hasty manner of my summoning.

"Morning, EX-8," he said without looking up. "Traffic?"

"No sir. I just didn't expect that my presence was needed."

"Have you read the dossier?"

"Not yet. I thought I would understand it better if you explained it to me while reading."

He nodded in agreement. He looked up to me and Relleta and made us sit down. "Let's open it together, then."

I removed the seal from the envelope and pulled out the thick folder inside. On the first page, there are the words "TOP SECRET - EYES ONLY" printed in bold. The Director-General laid his folder on his desk, leaned forward, then looked at me inquiringly.

"Tell me, what do you know about Hunter Bonilla?"

I raised an eyebrow and explained what I knew.

"Hunter Bonilla. Son of Senator Teodoro Bonilla, Third District of Camarines Sur. Lots of powerful connections. That Hunter, sir, went off the path a bit and became addicted to drugs, but seven years ago he became an informant. Because of him, many dealers and pushers preying on the youth, sources of hard party drugs, have been caught. That's what he's best known for. What a big mess that was. I thought that his father would never be elected again, but surprisingly he racked in the votes. Even cultivated an image of a man who wouldn't cover up his own son's crimes. This upcoming election, he's still leading the surveys."

The Director-General brought out a picture of a man, no older than forty years old, with fair skin and long hair combed to the back. "Did you also know that even though it has been a long since exposed his peers in the drug trade, he's still protected by the police wherever he goes? Police officers, not just guards. It's obvious that his family had a lot of flex done to ensure such security." He stopped to take a cigarette from his pocket. "But you can't blame them either. Back when he was still providing intel, I knew there were a lot of big names like him, like his dad, who were sure to get run over. It just so happened that the evidence that he gave to the prosecution were too strong, so by God's mercy they are still imprisoned."

He took a long puff and after a few moments he blew out a thick cloud of smoke. He offered his Dunhills to me and Relleta; Relleta grabbed one and the Director-General lit it as well. He handed me one but I declined and thanked him, instead lighting my own stick of Chesterfields.

He continued to explain. "As you can see, it would be inevitable for some people to come looking for him. The kind of people who will break into your house to butcher you into little pieces in front of your family, for the simple reason that they can. So when his protection period ended, his father sent a letter of intent to the Interior and Local Government for plainclothes officers to watch over him at all times. It was permitted, based on the grounds of the appellant being in a constant state of duress, and that the threat to his life is highly probable. And so it became a cycle: every six months, the Senator would conjure a letter to grant Hunter protection, protecting him to the highest capacity, up until two weeks ago."

"What happened?"

The Director-General looked at Relleta, who in turn pulled out a letter from his folder. "Directly from the Macau Bureau, Department of Foreign Affairs. An incident report of what happened. Two days ago, our consulate found out that Hunter was missing in Macau. The last known place where he lived, burned to the last embers. The events are still private only between the Macau Bureau, us, and Senator Bonilla. For the Corpo de Policia de Seguranca, the Macau police, an arson attack happened, but everything about Bonilla: that he owns that residence, that he is missing, was classified by the Macau Bureau before even a single word leaks."

I couldn't stop myself from asking. "Why? Wouldn't it be easier for all of us if we cooperated with the Macau police to find Bonilla? What else did the consulate say?"

The Director-General slowly leaned back to his seat and looked at me as if he was hesitating to answer. "As much as possible," he said between two quick puffs, "we don't want to involve them in something that - for now - we only consider a domestic security issue." He placed his cigarette on his ashtray and flicked it gently to remove the ash. "Also, if we don't want a local scandal to break out, we sure as hell don't want an international scandal even more, especially in a special administrative region of one of the most powerful countries in the world. Point of the matter is, Bonilla is more important than we think. He knows too much, not only about the drug dealers he helped put in jail, but also about our policies and procedures on how to catch them. Coast guard patrol routes to prevent exchange of drugs in the oceans, detours in customs, people who obstruct the flow of drugs in and out of the country. We don't know the full extent of how much Bonilla knows at the moment, but if there is anything he knows, no matter how small or big, we can consider all of that sensitive information and we cannot allow it to be compromised."

Relleta interjected. "Furthermore, whoever did this may be giving us a message that they will come for us. And to start, they chose who could be considered the greatest witness we have had in the last few years. If they were able to do this to Bonilla, it's likely for them to do the same to some of our other informants. It's already a red flag that we have our information possibly compromised, if not already compromised by now, so it's imperative that we have someone undercover to act as our eyes and hands in Macau, waiting by word for any orders to be given."

"And that person is me," I whispered softly.

"Yes. It can only be you," said the Director-General.

I nodded as I bent over and read a few more things about this case. I was creating a mental picture of possible events, possible perpetrators and possible motives ... motives. I looked up with a slight grin, as if I knew something I shouldn't have.

"Is that the only reason? Or is there something else I need to know? There are only three of us in the room right now."

The Director-General looked at Relleta, who could only shrug. "Relleta mentioned to you earlier that apart from us and the Macau Bureau, the only other person who knows about

this is Senator Bonilla. I myself was the one who called directly to him about the situation."

"And? Did he take the news calmly?"

"If a two-minute torrent of cursing on the other line is what you can consider calmly. Of course not. He's trying to take everything we know, but what can I give when we literally don't have the slightest clue to even begin with?"

I agreed and opened the folder to see a cropped photo of a large man in a suit, bald, with a graying mustache and beard. To his right was another man in a gray vest with a pink tie, with thick hair but the same face as the bigger man, just made younger. Their smiles are broad, the type you see in happy families who don't have to worry about wealth and security. "And another thing. What does he think will happen? Assuming that we do have leads, even if we give him information on the events that happened, will his missing son magically materialize his presence?"

"No, but he will try. Remember this is a powerful person who can do a lot of things you wouldn't even believe. What we avoid here is the possibility of the Senator interfering in our process even before we have established a starting point of our own investigation. Everything I told you about - why we need to find and save Hunter in a quick, careful and stealthy way will burst like a bubble, just because of some stupid suit who has his own agenda."

I tried to digest and process all these things being hurled my way. That's why, I said in my mind. That's why I'm being sought after, because it's time once again for an honorable duty that the Executive Branch has to fulfill.

"This will be your mission order for now: find and rescue Hunter Bonilla in Macau, find out who did this to him, and bring him home as soon as possible." He pulled out another folder, thinner and tied with a black ribbon across the opening. "Like your previous missions, no one

from the other side should know that you are an active agent of the Philippine Government."

"And if Hunter's dead?"

"I will give you permission to progress carte blanche on the mission. If there are additional objectives based on what you can gather, I will give them to you directly when we touch base."

"Is this a solo mission, sir? Or is someone going to be paired with me?"

"Solo mission. We are now at full occupancy in the Executive Branch, and EX-4 and EX-13 are still recovering from both getting sick at the same time. Also, even though we have spare agents, I trust you won't need them. It's just an in-and-out mission, it'd be a surprise if this takes you five days or a week."

"Yes, sir. Understood, sir," I answered. I took the thin folder from his desk and read the contents. I confirmed everything: it's just an ordinary mission, but the stakes are high and I'm also against time. Things I've always been used to.

"Don't worry. I will notify Macau Station to contact you as soon as you land in Macau."

"Noted sir. Thank you." I stood up from my seat to say goodbye. "What time is my flight tomorrow?"

The Director-General looked again at Relleta, who had his back turned to him, but in front of me was wearing a restrained smile that was about to burst into laughter.

*

"You really are an asshole," I said to Relleta the moment we got out of the Director-General's office, while she burst out laughing.

"Hey, at least you now know why we're looking for you this morning!" He laughed even more and was so carried away that he couldn't even help slapping his knee. I wondered if a slap to the back of the head should calm him down.

"It's a good thing I have a closet full of clothes in my room. Wait, what time is it? Thirty minutes past five? What time will I arrive in Macau then?"

"If your departure is at 8:00 AM, you will probably be at the Macau International Airport around 11:30 AM or 12:00 PM," said Shay, looking at the screen of her laptop. "It's only a two and a half hour flight."

"But I still have to prepare. Are all my papers okay?" I asked Shay, who rummaged through her desk drawer and "OUT" tray for papers.

"Yes they are. Passport, tickets, even your cover IDs in case you need them, verified as legitimate even after a background check."

"Gee, you really are amazing. I can only wish that you're my secretary, instead of the old bully who watches over my office."

She chuckled demurely once again, as she always did, as expected from a twenty-four year-old fresh grad who for some reason stumbled into the dark and murky world of secret intelligence. "Of course bro, what would you expect? Just make sure to bring me some almond cookies and bak kwa when you return, okay?"

"Awww, what else does the baby want? Dunkin Donuts and Yakult?"

"You really know how to get into my nerves, you know? Just for that you should be buying me egg tarts too!"

"Sure, so long as you transfer the money to my account," I answered, which made her pick up her stapler and aim it towards me. I looked at Relleta. "As for you, what do you want? A slap or a punch? I'm still not happy with you."

He laughed loudly again. "What do we have here! You're very brave for your rank, aren't you? Perhaps you're forgetting that you're still talking to a lieutenant colonel?" He put his arm around my shoulder. "As for you, weren't you recently asking to be assigned to an actual mission? How long has it been since the last one?"

"It's been three months. When I spied on a Filipino illegal immigration scheme in Brooklyn."

"You see? It's been a while, hasn't it? Don't tell me you're content with doing intelligence reports and hosting interdepartmental meetings every Wednesday? Is it fun to decide what liquid soap to use in the comfort rooms?"

"I get what you're saying, James. But I wish you had notified me that I would be flying out of the country immediately. What if I have to attend to something outside of work?" I took my papers from Shay's desk. " But yes, you are right. I guess I've been feeling more rusty lately. It's not that what I do is worthless; the truth is that it is a huge thing to analyze incoming intelligence reports. But when I'm in the field, I feel alive even more."

Relleta tightened his arm around me and then let go. "Then you grab your things from the room, and go straight to the garage in the basement. There is a car waiting for you there to take you to NAIA-1. Good luck, and always be careful."

I gave Relleta a casual salute and waved goodbye to Shay, and entered the elevator back down to my office. Before I entered the office to get my things, I stopped by Ara to order things to do while I was gone, which unintentionally gave her another chance to pry.

"Assignment abroad? How I wish to have plenty of time to indulge in food and wine as you would."

"Shut up. This is a serious mission. Besides, I haven't had a drink in about half a decade."

"Yeah, that's not good for you. That means the only vices you have left are smoking and philandering."

"I don't want to talk to you anymore."

I closed the door behind me but I could still hear her laugh. I took the suitcase hidden in the corner of the room and stuffed all the clothes that I could fit inside. After I packed all my clothes and documents, I removed the tactical holster from under my jacket. I drew my pistol, carefully unloaded it, locked it, and put it inside the pistol safe. I debated as to whether I should tuck it inside the secret compartment hidden under the side seams: I knew I'd need a gun for whatever danger I would be in, but surely the consulate has an armory. I took a good look inside my office before I left to make sure I hadn't forgotten anything. Laptop and cell phone? In the bag and my right pocket, respectively. Money? We have an unlimited expense account when we're on assignment, so that's not a problem. I decided that I was ready but before everything else, I also called all my contacts to let them know that I will be out of the country and will be back in less than a week. After that I turned off the lights and went out dragging the big black suitcase behind me.

"Well, Ara, I'll bid you goodbye for now. You man the store while I'm away, okay? If there are reports coming back for me, please endorse them to the others first, maybe even to our junior officers. I'll be sending you a postcard."

"A postcard? Will that make sate my appetite?"

"If you don't want it, chuck it in the bin then. At least be grateful that I'll get something."

I went down to the basement parking lot and saw the gray Honda Accord waiting for me. The driver was about to come out to open the door for me but I waved for him not to and that there was no need. I opened the trunk to put my suitcase in and got into the passenger seat of the car.

"Good morning, sir. Are we ready?"

I looked at the rear view mirror: small eyes that were happy though obviously tired, comforting and without a trace of knowledge of the troubles I was willingly getting myself into.

"Yes boss. Let's go."