Manila, Republic of the Philippines—Now

 

A splendidly uniformed field grade officer of the Philippine Marines met Shake at the immigration counter of the Ninoy Aquino International Airport and waved a dismissive hand at the officer who had been curiously examining Shake’s passport, which did not contain a visa. Apparently, his luggage had already been retrieved from the Gulfstream and was stuffed into the trunk of the highly-polished staff car waiting for him at the airport curb, surrounded by four Philippine Marines standing at rigid parade rest. In less than twenty minutes after Bayer had shooed him off the airplane, Shake was nestled into the backseat of the sedan and headed for a meeting in Quezon City with the chief of staff of the Philippine armed forces.

Bayer’s in-flight phone calls had set it all up for him. Now all Shake Davis had to do was nose around starting at the top with the brass hats and eventually maneuvering his way down the chain to Jubal Mariano. There would be the official story about Ignacio Felodon and then there would be the real story hopefully related by the man who knew him best. If a man like Felodon had truly gone rogue there was a reason and if there was a reason—good or bad—it might lead to some vital information that Bayer and his boys could use to prevent an attack that would make 9/11 pale by comparison.