It was a scene from Apocalypse Now. We could have been meeting Captain Kurtz in the jungles of Cambodia.
Bodies hung from trees, limbs of bodies adorned branches, and heads were showcased on spikes.
'They were the sorry bastards who couldn't raise the ransom money, 'said Abu Sarryff leader, Jainal Antel Sali Jr.
I could tell the dog was from Malaysia. These Asians loved to hop countries and try and blend in but I had been in Asia long enough to know that he was from Johor Baru next to Singapore.
Where there was an ISIS cell, you could guarantee there was a Malaysian in charge of it. They had access to direct funds from the House of Wassabism in Saudia Arabia.
Under British colonization, the Malaysians had been made to feel important. Once they were given their independence, that importance went towards solidifying their right to bear arms under the name of Islam.
'Hope you got facts to back that one,' said Max, who was putting on his best Packi accent. He had an uncanny knack of reading my unvoiced thoughts.
'I have,' said Frank, who pushed a body hanging on a tree, it was decaying already and below it on the ground, was a decapitated head. This one unspiked.
It had to be Fritz Fisher and a fresh kill, thought Frank, who was also trying hard to be a Paki arms dealer. He couldn't reveal the bile that was rising up.
Fritz Fisher was one of 37 tourists who were kidnapped off a Borneo resort, a two-hour speedboat ride from the pirate's base in Sulu.
Soon, you'll get it.
'How the fuck can you say that Frank,' asked Max, when they had a moment of time alone.
'Easy,' said Frank, who pointed over to an outbuilding, 'that's where they keep their guns and ammunition.'
The leader came back with coffee.
'Let's consecrate the deal,' he said as he pulled out a laptop from a briefcase. 'I'll wire you the two million now, and then you'll tell me which village you have delivered the weapons.'
Bodies hung from trees, limbs of bodies adorned branches, and heads were showcased on spikes.
'They were the sorry bastards who couldn't raise the ransom money, 'said Abu Sarryff leader, Jainal Antel Sali Jr.
I could tell the dog was from Malaysia. These Asians loved to hop countries and try and blend in but I had been in Asia long enough to know that he was from Johor Baru next to Singapore.
Where there was an ISIS cell, you could guarantee there was a Malaysian in charge of it. They had access to direct funds from the House of Wassabism in Saudia Arabia.
Under British colonization, the Malaysians had been made to feel important. Once they were given their independence, that importance went towards solidifying their right to bear arms under the name of Islam.
'Hope you got facts to back that one,' said Max, who was putting on his best Packi accent. He had an uncanny knack of reading my unvoiced thoughts.
'I have,' said Frank, who pushed a body hanging on a tree, it was decaying already and below it on the ground, was a decapitated head. This one unspiked.
It had to be Fritz Fisher and a fresh kill, thought Frank, who was also trying hard to be a Paki arms dealer. He couldn't reveal the bile that was rising up.
Fritz Fisher was one of 37 tourists who were kidnapped off a Borneo resort, a two-hour speedboat ride from the pirate's base in Sulu.
Soon, you'll get it.
'How the fuck can you say that Frank,' asked Max, when they had a moment of time alone.
'Easy,' said Frank, who pointed over to an outbuilding, 'that's where they keep their guns and ammunition.'
The leader came back with coffee.
'Let's consecrate the deal,' he said as he pulled out a laptop from a briefcase. 'I'll wire you the two million now, and then you'll tell me which village you have delivered the weapons.'
