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Authors: Alan McDermott
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days of cowering in the jungle will soon be over for Abu Sayyaf.”
“We do not cower,” Assaf said harshly,
aggrieved at the suggestion.
“Perhaps not, but while the AFP and the
Americans wander calmly through your towns, you are sleeping up here in the
hills. That is the first thing we need to change.”
“How do we do that? There are
barely a hundred of us.”
“Don’t you have any men on the
surrounding islands that you can call on?” Mansour asked.
“There are perhaps another hundred
spread throughout the Sulu Sea, but they have hostages and are trying to
negotiate their release.”
“Bring them all here,” Mansour
said. “You have no more need to risk the lives of your men for mere
money: we can provide all you need.”
Assaf nodded, making a mental note to
pass on the order while Mansour continued with the questions.
“When was the last time you launched an
attack on the infidels?”
“Attack? We can barely defend
ourselves, never mind launch an attack. Besides, there are American
soldiers here — elite American soldiers.”
“Who have a strictly non-combatant role,
as I understand,” Mansour smiled. “Tell me everything you know about
their base.”
“I know much about their base,” Assaf
said, “but attacking it would only cause them to double their efforts against
us. It would be counterproductive.”
“Far from it, my friend. An attack
on their base may indeed make them bring the fight to you, but it would also
show Jemaah Islamiyah that Abu Sayyaf are no longer the poor relation they
think you are. Your Indonesian brothers will sit up and take notice of
you once again, and by reuniting with them the Muslim movement within the
region will become stronger than you could ever imagine.”
“They will not join with us. They
refuse to even talk to us, so how will this one attack change their mind?”
“It is quite simple,” Mansour
said. “I will act as your emissary to explain that they can join us and
share the glory — as well as the support we will provide — or they can fend for
themselves and we will no longer provide them with training, weapons or funds.”
“They are proud people,” Assaf
argued. “They will not submit to threats and intimidation.”
“As are we all, brother, but any man who
puts his own pride before the will of Allah is not worthy of calling himself a
true believer. I will give them one chance, and one chance only.
Naturally, I shall be very diplomatic in my approach.”
Mansour could see that Assaf was still
not convinced, but he was confident in his own ability to bring the two groups
together.
“Let me worry about Jemaah Islamiyah,
brother. All you need to do is help me plan the attack on their camp.”
Chapter 5
Monday 16th
April 2012
Sam Grant found the going hard enough without
having to keep step with Halton, whose bare feet were constantly slipping on
the wet jungle floor. A rain shower had hit an hour earlier and the
remnants were still falling from the dense canopy above, even though the clouds
had long since gone. While it cooled him down and provided some much
needed drinking water, it also turned the floor to gloop which his trainers
were struggling to cope with, despite the decent tread on the sole. The
camber of the route they were taking didn't help, either, and the undulating
terrain meant they were either climbing or descending, rarely walking on level
ground.
Things got much worse when they came to
a river and Bong signalled for everyone to break for food. Most made
their way to the bank and took in as much water as they could, while Vick and
Moore waded into the water to give themselves a quick wash. They did so
without removing any garments, and Grant guessed this was due to shyness on
their part. Once they'd finished they sat down next to Grant and Halton.
“It's really hard washing yourself with
all your clothes on,” she said. “I nearly got a beating
“We do not cower,” Assaf said harshly,
aggrieved at the suggestion.
“Perhaps not, but while the AFP and the
Americans wander calmly through your towns, you are sleeping up here in the
hills. That is the first thing we need to change.”
“How do we do that? There are
barely a hundred of us.”
“Don’t you have any men on the
surrounding islands that you can call on?” Mansour asked.
“There are perhaps another hundred
spread throughout the Sulu Sea, but they have hostages and are trying to
negotiate their release.”
“Bring them all here,” Mansour
said. “You have no more need to risk the lives of your men for mere
money: we can provide all you need.”
Assaf nodded, making a mental note to
pass on the order while Mansour continued with the questions.
“When was the last time you launched an
attack on the infidels?”
“Attack? We can barely defend
ourselves, never mind launch an attack. Besides, there are American
soldiers here — elite American soldiers.”
“Who have a strictly non-combatant role,
as I understand,” Mansour smiled. “Tell me everything you know about
their base.”
“I know much about their base,” Assaf
said, “but attacking it would only cause them to double their efforts against
us. It would be counterproductive.”
“Far from it, my friend. An attack
on their base may indeed make them bring the fight to you, but it would also
show Jemaah Islamiyah that Abu Sayyaf are no longer the poor relation they
think you are. Your Indonesian brothers will sit up and take notice of
you once again, and by reuniting with them the Muslim movement within the
region will become stronger than you could ever imagine.”
“They will not join with us. They
refuse to even talk to us, so how will this one attack change their mind?”
“It is quite simple,” Mansour
said. “I will act as your emissary to explain that they can join us and
share the glory — as well as the support we will provide — or they can fend for
themselves and we will no longer provide them with training, weapons or funds.”
“They are proud people,” Assaf
argued. “They will not submit to threats and intimidation.”
“As are we all, brother, but any man who
puts his own pride before the will of Allah is not worthy of calling himself a
true believer. I will give them one chance, and one chance only.
Naturally, I shall be very diplomatic in my approach.”
Mansour could see that Assaf was still
not convinced, but he was confident in his own ability to bring the two groups
together.
“Let me worry about Jemaah Islamiyah,
brother. All you need to do is help me plan the attack on their camp.”
Chapter 5
Monday 16th
April 2012
Sam Grant found the going hard enough without
having to keep step with Halton, whose bare feet were constantly slipping on
the wet jungle floor. A rain shower had hit an hour earlier and the
remnants were still falling from the dense canopy above, even though the clouds
had long since gone. While it cooled him down and provided some much
needed drinking water, it also turned the floor to gloop which his trainers
were struggling to cope with, despite the decent tread on the sole. The
camber of the route they were taking didn't help, either, and the undulating
terrain meant they were either climbing or descending, rarely walking on level
ground.
Things got much worse when they came to
a river and Bong signalled for everyone to break for food. Most made
their way to the bank and took in as much water as they could, while Vick and
Moore waded into the water to give themselves a quick wash. They did so
without removing any garments, and Grant guessed this was due to shyness on
their part. Once they'd finished they sat down next to Grant and Halton.
“It's really hard washing yourself with
all your clothes on,” she said. “I nearly got a beating
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