Free Gray Resurrection by Alan McDermott Page B

proceedings but had no
idea what was being said, the words spitting out like automatic weapon
fire.  Bong gestured with his arm and the hostage who had been cradling
the casualty was suddenly dragged away, and his own screams began to drown out
those of the woman Grant assumed to be his wife or girlfriend.  He was
kicking and screaming as they pulled him clear, and Grant suddenly knew what
was coming.  He grabbed Vick and cradled her head into his chest just as
Bong lowered his rifle and ended the woman’s pain with a single shot to the
head.  Her partner collapsed in tears, howling with grief, and Bong was
clearly not in the mood to put up with it. He pointed the rifle at the man and
barked out more instructions, but the heartbroken hostage either wasn't
listening or didn't care.  His cries continued for a moment as he stared
at his loved one, then stopped as rage moved to the top of the emotional
table.  His face contorted and he clambered to his feet, anger etched on
his face.  Bong shouted at him to back off and raised his rifle to
reinforce the threat, but the man kept coming, fists clenching as he
approached. Another warning, but the advance continued, the man cursing
venomously as he moved nearer.
    "Bahala Ka!" Suit yourself.
    The rifle spat one more time and the man
collapsed in mid-stride.  Abel Guzman came over and began remonstrating
with Bong, who stood his ground and argued back, vehemently defending his
actions.  Everyone stopped what they were doing to watch the
confrontation, which escalated when Guzman pushed Bong in the chest and he
stumbled backwards, losing his footing on a tree root and splashing into the
river.  Apoplectic, he jumped up and ran for Abel, grabbing him round the
throat and pinning him to a tree.  Guzman tried to prise him off but Bong
had too firm a grip, so he fumbled for a weapon as his face began to turn
scarlet.  He reached towards his bolo but Bong swung a knee up, deflecting
his hand away from the handle of the knife.  With his last remaining
strength he tried to claw at Bong's face but his reach was half an inch short
and his life ebbed away moments later.
    Bong let him drop and spat on the corpse
before cursing in deep, deep Tagalog.  He turned and looked at his men,
daring any to challenge him for the leadership, but none seemed in the mood,
even though they were brandishing weapons. 
    Their tacit approval accepted, he gave
orders to pack up while he himself took the cell phones from the fallen leaders
and claimed their tent as his own.
    Grant was once again tied to Halton, and
was thankful that his companion had managed to dress himself once more, though
his sarcasm hadn’t deserted him.  “Just another day in paradise.”
    “And it’s about to get a lot worse with
Bong in charge,” Moore said.  He turned to Grant.  “Thanks.  If
you hadn’t moved me, I’d hate to think what would have happened.”
    “Don’t mention it.  Just make sure
you take cover next time the bullets start flying.”
    “That wasn’t your first time in a
gunfight, was it?” Vick asked.
    “What do you mean?” Grant replied, but
he was already aware of what she was implying.  When the firefight had
started, all of the hostages – and a couple of their captors – had frozen,
dropping where they were.  He had been the only one to seek
protection.  His army training had kicked in once more and while it may
have saved his life again it was beginning to get noticed.  If Vick and
Robert could spot it, it wouldn’t be long before one of the guards did, and
that would make him dangerous in their eyes.
    “I mean you knew how to react when they
started shooting at us.”
    “Self-preservation, I guess,” Grant shrugged,
trying to play down the incident, but Vick wasn't ready to accept such a weak
response.
    “If it was self-preservation, why didn't
you just look after yourself?  Why did you drag Rob and I behind the
tree?”
    “I suppose I wasn't really thinking
straight,”