The Rescue: ch 92

The Etihad flight was departing from Manchester (MAN) to Manilla (MNL) at 21.05 on Tuesday June 12th arriving in the Philippines at 7.20 local time. From Manilla's Ninoy Aquino International, Sean and I caught one of the many daily flights to Cebu.

I fully understood my best friend's tension. The day before, he had connected to Skype before we left for our office premises, to have a quick chat to Rachel his fiancee.

Being able to see our loved ones and hear their voices via Skype, was first introduced to us by my son James, when he accompanied us to Tel Aviv and Jaffa. James had proved to be a huge asset during our mission. Without the help of James, his wife Alyana and his online friends our Jewish friend Simeon could have died.

One of the drawbacks of Skype or video-conferencing was that those at the laptop screen could see and hear things that they didn't want to. On Monday morning at 7am Sean was happily chatting to Rachel when he heard gunfire. His military experience and training recognized the familiar "rat at tat" of an AK47 Assault rifle. Rachel was working in the Philippines on a "Clean Water" project with Save The Children. She was in a UNICEF hostel sharing a bedroom with UNICEF workers. It was 3pm and 82 degrees Fahrenheit in Cebu. There should not be gunfire.

"What the feck is that, Rachel?" Sean shouted.
"I don't know," Rachel said, "but I'd better go and check on the girls and Iggy."

Rachel and her fellow charity workers had "rescued" some girls from the streets and were employing them to assist with the Clean Water project. There was also a twelve-year old lad called Ignacio who had been cast onto the city streets as a six-year old to fend alone. He saw himself as Rachel's protector.

- "NO, RACHEL. STAY THERE!" Sean shouted at the computer screen, rubbing his crew-cut.

He was desperate, knowing that Rachel was loving and caring but had no awareness of the evil that people can do. She had been saved by Sean from Somali kidnappers and seen the brutality needed to bring about her freedom. Her assumption was that most people were kind and diplomacy was the best way to reason with violence. The ex SAS captain knew that often you had to "break heads".

Watching the computer screen with scrutiny. Straining his hearing to discern what was happening Sean grew worried. The longer the screen was empty the worse his worry, and finally frustration and anger grew.

Leaving the former workshop converted into a bedsit for Sean and Rachel, he came into Twemlow Hall, slamming the front door. My wife, Liz, and I were having cereal and coffee.

"Something is wrong," Sean blazoned with strong voice.

He then proceeded to tell us about the video-conference. Liz and I cancelled our appointments for that day. Explaining the situation to our children, Becky and James, we made calls to embassies, consulates, Save The Children, UNICEF, our MP, contacts at Hereford, and anyone else that we hoped may have insight.

The next day, Tuesday, we were on the way to the Philippines on an Etihad flight.