Thursday, April 30, 2015

Four minutes

IN retrospect, it should not have come as a surprise.

PO2 Herminio Paredes’ feelings were mixed at this point – sadness, emptiness but mostly rage. Sadness because the perpetrator of his brother’s death was still at large. Emptiness because big bro Antonio was the only sibling he had and he had looked up to him most of his life as his protector. Now he was gone. Gone in a single second when a lone criminal detonated a crudely-fashioned mortar bomb at Limketkai’s Rosario Strip on a busy Friday night. And then there was the rage. Right at this very moment while the coffin of his kuya’s body was slowly lowered six feet under at Divine Shepherd Memorial Gardens, PO2 Paredes was pretty sure he would make the perp pay for his sin – at a very painful and most demeaning price.

--

The Macapagal ancestral house along the highway in Iligan City was teeming on this busy Sunday afternoon. But not everyone there were tourists. Two in the crowd were 22-year-old Angelo Palacios and 21-year-old Alan Salgados. Angelo was orphaned at 11 when both his parents from Panaon, Misamis Occidental died in a road accident along with his lolo and lola. With no other kin back in Panaon, Angelo wandered for days until he reached Ozamiz City and befriended a kid who slept at street sidewalks at night. That other kid was Alan. They grew up as teens introduced to the life of crime – first snatching parked bikes, then graduated to robbing unsuspecting students at Medina College.

This afternoon, they were searching for potential targets at the Macapagal ancestral house. They found one – an Irish pensioner who had lived in Iligan for almost a year now with his 24-year-old Pinay partner. On this lazy afternoon, 64-year-old Michael Birmingham parked his gray Grandia and was looking forward to a typical picnic day, not having a slightest forethought of the fuckup ahead.

--

Dosed with antibiotics on his heydays for a pharyngeal infection, Michael had a knack of forgetting things. On this particular moment, he left the Grandia key on the ignition and to double the incredulity, he forgot to lock the van. This was lechon for the two petty criminals – Angelo and Alan. The duo went for the van, got inside and slowly drove away. It was at that instant that Michael looked back. To his disbelief, someone was carnapping his Grandia. He went for his gun hidden in his clutch bag and pointed it ahead. Angelo and Alan panicked and stepped on the pedal more firmly, running east towards Cagayan de Oro. Michael picked up his cellphone and dialed the Iligan City Police Office. In his recurring forgetfulness, he forgot to tell police the license plates of his van. Within four minutes, checkpoints were set up in Lugait and Manticao. Gray Grandias are common in Mindanao. With no specific license plates to look for, police officers manning the checkpoints had to stop every gray-colored Toyota Grandia coming from the west.

--

At exactly the same time when the carnapping occurred, Achmed Bashir was driving down Amai Pakpak Avenue from Marawi City exiting towards Iligan City and on to Cagayan de Oro in a similarly-looking gray Toyota Grandia van he rented. This was his third change of vehicle since the July 26 bombing at Limketkai which left eight people dead. Although the plate of the first pickup truck he used as the getaway vehicle before the blast was not captured on CCTV camera, Achmed left nothing to chance. This, despite the fact that all those computerized facial sketches the police released were of no use anyway because of contradicting descriptions of witnesses who were already tipsy and drunk that night.

Achmed owed the rent of the vehicles – and the money he used to buy the explosives – to someone whose family he saved literally from a fire way way back. It was now time for the family to pay back. For days, Achmed was both furious and desperate at the same time. With his family residing at Vamenta Subd., Barra, Opol, the only means of sending his kids to school was the sidewalk stall he had alongside JR Borja St. in Cogon. For nine years, he had fed his family that way. Then in one single snap, the Hapsay Dalan campaign snatched that away from him.

There was nowhere to turn for help except the family who owed him their lives when he saved them from an inferno which donned their house in 1994. That family was luckier. Their patriarch was now vice mayor of Malabang town. Sensing his friend’s fate, Vice Mayor Ameril Lucman offered Achmed a job at the town hall and gave him seed money to temporarily relocate his family to Malabang.

Achmed politely declined the job but accepted the money. But unknown to the vice mayor, Achmed did not use it to relocate. He did not want to stay in Malabang. Hell, he did not want his family to stay in Malabang. He loved Cagayan de Oro. He missed his daily ukay-ukay at the sidewalks of Cogon which were downloaded to him by smugglers via Cebu. In fact, he owned more than one stall. He wanted them back.

--

In nine years in the ukay-ukay business, Achmed should presumably had savings by now and didn’t need Vice Mayor Lucman’s financial help. But Achmed had no cash on hand. He invested everything in a trust fund for his two sons and two daughters who are all in private schools. That’s why he needed Lucman’s money. Unfortunately for Lucman, he had no clue on how Achmed used the money. The original plan was for one attack only. But no, they were stubborn. They still didn’t allow him back at Cogon. So here Lucman was on a Sunday afternoon, carrying with him the second 81mm mortar round freshly smuggled from Camp Ranao by a corrupt military officer of the 103rd Infantry Brigade who knew his way how to doctor inventories.

--

Achmed was surprised to see the checkpoint at Lugait. And it was a Sunday afternoon at that! The checkpoint was not there when he hurriedly left Cagayan de Oro in the morning of July 27. But he kept calm as two police officers approached.
       “What’s this about?” he asked in Cebuano.
       “Naa lang mi tan-awon sir,” one of the officers replied.
      The other saw the package at the back and it deemed to him suspicious enough. Achmed was arrested.

--

PO2 Paredes was on duty at the Cagayan de Oro City Police Office in Camp Maharlika when news of the apprehension of the Limketkai bomber at Lugait came. Of course, they were pretty sure it was the bomber. He had with him a raw 81-mm mortar round. PO2 Paredes was excited but kept his calm. As next-of-kin to one of the victims, he knew he could not be allowed to be part of the interrogation process. He knew that he would not be allowed to get close to the suspect, not one bit.

--

After all the media people were gone, Cocpo director Senior Supt. Graciano Mijares ordered his personnel to lock Bashir up all by himself in an abandoned room at the second level of Camp Maharlika main building, meters away from the director’s office. He said Achmed Bashir must be kept away from other inmates because his was an extraordinary case. Since it was a Sunday, the arraignment at the City Prosecutor’s Office had to wait for one more day. Satisfied, director Mijares went home after posting two guards outside Bashir’s detention room.

--

While the press conference was going on, PO2 Paredes sneaked out of Maharlika and went to nearby Madonna and Child Hospital. There at the pharmacy, he purchased over the counter an IV needle. In front of Madonna was a carinderia. PO2 Paredes asked the carinderia attendant if she could give him a bottle of pork residue. Although perplexed, the carinderia attendant heeded PO2 Paredes’ request.

--

It was already 7:45 p.m. and it was a Sunday so only a few police officers were milling about at Maharlika. PO2 Paredes’ duty of the day was about to wrap up. But he had one more duty to do – a duty he felt he owed to his late brother, someone he looked up to more than anyone else in this world.
PO2 Paredes went upstairs to the second level of the main building in Camp Maharlika complex. The two police officers guarding the door where Bashir was locked up confronted him.
            “You’re not supposed to be here,” one of them said.
          “Yes I wasn’t supposed to,” PO2 Paredes shot back, then in quick lightning fashion, knocked the two officers cold.
            He went for the key, opened the door and found Achmed Bashir comfortably sleeping.
         First, he bolted the door from the inside, found an abandoned filing cabinet in the room and pushed it towards the door.
            Then he cuffed Bashir to the side railing of the bed which woke him up.
            “What the…” Bashir started but PO2 Paredes hit him.
        “Shut up! Do you know what this is?” PO2 Paredes said while showing the bottle of pork residue to Bashir.
         With a penchant for knowledge, Achmed Bashir knew from watching TV and browsing the Internet of the horrors of torture that authorities implemented abroad. He had watched pictures of Iraqi prisoners being masturbated by American servicewomen and smacked of human feces after. He had heard of waterboarding in CIA camps elsewhere. He had known of detainees being forced-fed in Guantanamo. But nothing prepared him for what would happen.
           Kicking in protest while being strapped to his bed, Bashir watched in horror as PO2 Paredes filled the IV needle that he had just bought with 4 mL of pork residue and injected it at Bashir’s arm. 
             It hit the mark.
        “That’s for my brother,” PO2 Paredes said while the greasy oil entered Bashir’s blood veins. That dense liquid wouldn’t go anywhere except flow to the heart. The heart would then pump it to the lungs for gas exchange but that could not happen because the blood had been replaced with oil. Even 1 mL alone was lethal enough.
      In pain and disorientation, Bashir was coughing profusely as the oil stuck in his lungs. Momentarily, his heart was desperately gasping for air. It took four minutes for Bashir to succumb to cardiac arrest.

--

It took another four minutes for PO1 Jenny Ubanan to find her fiancée police officer and his buddy knocked cold outside Bashir’s detention room. Panicking, she called for help. More police officers responded and started banging the door – already barricaded from the inside with an empty filing cabinet.

--

PO2 Paredes did not want to get caught. Remaining single all of his life with only his brother as his idol and role model after both his parents went on their separate ways and left the two siblings alone, PO2 Herminio Paredes felt like he wanted to join Antonio in the afterlife. He pulled up his .45 caliber pistol and pointed it to his temple - unknowingly, in a slightly downward angle. That’s where he made a mess.

--

There are many studies that have shown that in their moment of despair, suicides show a slight hint of hesitation at what would happen. That occurred to then Congressman Benjo Benaldo. His pistol was also pointed downward that’s why the bullet missed his heart.

--

PO2 Paredes pulled the trigger. Had the pistol been pointed straight, Herminio would have died instantly. But since it was pointed downward, the bullet hit the right cheekbone, traveled through the sinus cavity and exited at the left cheek. PO2 Paredes was flailing wildly in pain as the door kept banging from the outside. It took four minutes for PO1 Ubanan and the responding police officers to finally loose the door free. It also took four minutes for PO2 Paredes to choke on his own blood and die.

Four minutes. Few things can happen in four minutes. Or a lot.

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