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What nobody in the evening walk had noticed was a subtle change in the buildings. The boys were interested in the girls and the girls were interested in the boys and their parents were making sure that everything that took place did so in ways that placed nobody’s reputation in danger. Quite understandably, none of them thought to count the antennas on the roof of the government building. For, every week there would be one or two more added to the growing array.

Ortega farm, Rosario, Surigao del Sur

A few miles away from Rosario, in the hills that overlooked the town, Graciella Ortega was gathering vegetables from the farm. It was one of three her family owned, this one was for growing vegetables, some for sale and the rest for her family. There was a second farm down by the shore, that one grew pineapples and coconuts and other fruit. Finally, there was the main one, inland where it was sheltered from the storms that blew in. There the family bred water buffalo and chickens and other livestock. The Ortega family wasn’t rich but they ate well.

The vegetable farm was Graciella’s favorite, it was a two hour walk to get there, no mean trip for a woman who was already over sixty years old, but it had a wonderful view overlooking the town and its small harbor. Out to sea she could see the small islands that punctuated the coral reef, some were inhabited by a few families, others were not and the only visitors were fishermen sheltering from a storm. One was so infested by poisonous snakes, nobody dared go there. Still they were all beautiful, dark green ringed by white surf against the deep blue sea.

While she worked on the farm, weeding the field and gathering the food she needed, she could look at the view and it would make her feel good. Normally there were two people who worked the vegetable farm, looked after it and made sure that nobody took any of the produce. They weren’t there though, perhaps, Graciella thought, they’d gone down to the town for Mass or to meet friends. No matter. She continued to collect her basket of vegetables, her daughter’s fiancée was coming for dinner and this was an important event, deserving of a special effort.

She never heard the men come behind her, the first hint she had of their existence was when a cloth was flipped over her eyes and she was dragged backwards. A knee ground into the small of her back but the pull on the cloth continued so her body was bent backwards like a bow. She could feel the aging bones and disks in her spine screaming against the brutal treatment. Terror at the sudden attack combined with outrage and filled her with anger at the ill-treatment.

“Ortega your children work abroad, your daughter is married to a foreigner. They send you much money. You will give it to us. You will give us fifty thousand pesos each month or we will kill you understand?”

“It’s not true.” Graciella was trying to keep control of her voice but she could hear it shaking and was ashamed of her fear. “Two of my sons work abroad it is so but they have families of their own to support. I only have on daughter who is married and her husband is a sergeant in the army. It is we who send money to her for the army does not pay enough to support them.”

“You lie.” The voice was furious and loaded with spite. “We know the truth do not try to deceive us.”

“It is true, we are not a rich family. We do not have the money you ask.”

“Then we have no use for you.” Graciella felt a blinding pain in her stomach as a knife slashed across it. She felt herself falling down, her eyes still covered, then another, duller, pain as a boot crunched into her ribs.

Road from Morales to Rosario

Angel Hernandez was a very happy man. An Australian construction crew was building a bridge across the river between Morales and Rosario and their engineers were working hard during the week. It was a wide river, not deep, but enough to make building a bridge a major project. Once the bridge was finished, the road could be black-topped all the way. At the moment, the trip between the two towns was a major enterprise that lasted all day; when the bridge and road were finished, it would be an hour’s drive at most.

That wasn’t why he was happy though. He had heard that the Australians were well-paid so he’d picked out five of his best girls and taken them down in his truck to the Australian work camp. He guessed, after a week of hard work, they would be ready for a party. He’d been right, the girls had worked hard all evening and all the stories were true. The Australians were indeed paid well and seemed to have no idea of the exchange rate, something the girls all knew to four decimal places.

They’d earned more money in an evening than they normally would in a month and, even after they’d given half to Hernandez, they still had enough to see their families lived well. And, Hernandez thought, half was fair. He was the one who looked after them protected them when a customer got rough or tried to refuse to pay for their services. He was the one who thought up things like taking the girls to the Australians and spent his evening driving them over and then back to their homes. Half was fair.

“Jesus save us!” For a moment Hernandez had thought there was a dog at the side of the road, half-seen in his headlights, then he realized it was a person, crawling by the roadside. He swerved the truck to a halt and ran back to see what was happening. His Best Girl, the most senior of the women who worked for him and the one who represented their interests and dealt with their problems, had been riding in the cab with him. She had seen the person as well and was at his heels. The other four women were in the back of the truck, it took them a little longer to get down.

It was an old lady, crawling along the roadside, leaving a trickle of blood in the dust behind her. Hernandez knelt beside her, she seemed hardly aware of his presence at first, then whimpered slightly. And tried to turn away from them as if to hide.

“It’s all right mother. We’re here to help you. We’ll look after you now.” Hernandez turned to his Best Girl. “Do you know who she is?”

The girl shook her head. She had her arms around the old lady and lifted her slightly. The movement exposed the savage knife wound across the woman’s stomach and the bruising to her ribs. Whoever she was, she’d taken her dress off and wadded the material into the knife slash. It had slowed the blood loss and allowed her to get this far but she didn’t have much longer. Hernandez didn’t make a decision, in his eyes there was none to be made.

“You four, lift her gently get her into the back of the truck. Do what you can for her. We’ll take her to the hospital in Rosario. You hold on, mother, you’ll be in the hospital soon.”

Saint Iago Hospital, Rosario

“She is a very lucky lady Senor Hernandez. If you and

your who.......girls........hadn’t come along, she would have died.

Another few minutes at most. The knife wound in her stomach is deep but she was lucky there also, it did not penetrate the stomach wall. And the kicking did not fracture her ribs, at her age fractured bones would have been as dangerous as the knife.”

The doctor was furious at whoever had done this to an old woman and was trying hard to keep his voice impersonal and matter-of-fact. He wasn’t managing it very well.

“Who is she Doctor?”