I. CHAPTER 6: THE FLIGHT TO MANILA

***The location of the empress…***

The battle sounds from Palayan reached the barangay where Pau and Ayan lived, though the people—who rarely experienced the noise of war—were oblivious to it. Many thought of it as some fireworks event in the neighboring country, though there were a few barangay officials having their doubts. But, as they never wanted to cause any panic in their populace, they tried confirming what they heard from the city leadership; calls that went unanswered. Only Marcel, his corporal, and the Count of Sey—who awakened to it—knew what was happening.

“You’re finally awake, Your Grace,” was Marcel’s greeting to the nobleman.

“Am I dreaming, Sir Lieutenant,” the Count of Sey tilted his head, trying to ascertain the validity of the noises, “or there’s a battle nearby?”

“The Ilocanos are bombarding Palayan city right now,” the lieutenant confirmed. “The rest of the 3rd Company is fighting them as we speak.”

“I-Ilocanos?”

Marcel nodded. “I, sort of, prepared for this development, though I didn’t expect it will surely happen. Someone from Manila must’ve ratted our operation to those cheapskates, and now they’re coming in force…maybe to abduct or kill Her Imperial Majesty.”

“Then, we must leave and make haste to Manila!” the Count of Sey stood up, and his voice betrayed his anxiety. “We got no time to waste, or those Ilocanos will get us.”

“Yes, we should, Your Grace,” the lieutenant bowed, as calm as ever. “As I’ve said, I prepared for this eventuality. The 1st platoon should be moving to the North Imperial Highway, securing our road to the capital.”

“Good work, Sir Lieutenant,” the nobleman fixed the creases on his chamberlain uniform. Then, a moment of silence followed, before he asked the soldier, “By the way, why am I sleeping here?”

“Oh, about that…” Marcel quickly averted his gaze, trying to hide his laughing face. “…you might want to ask Her Imperial Majesty, Your Grace. She can fully explain what transpired here.”

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A few minutes later, electricity was suddenly cut-off throughout the entire barangay, causing the people to became aware that something else was happening in Palayan instead of some fireworks display across the border. While word of Pau’s succession spread like wildfire in the community, the loss of television and internet communications prompted everyone to leave their homes and crowd around the new empress’ house. The street lights—powered by solar panels—remained operational, and it gave the empress’ guests the opportunity to see their new ruler as she was being silently evacuated by Lieutenant Spitz and his companions.

“We should tell the barangay captain that they should also evacuate!” Pau insisted on the lieutenant, while the Count of Sey and the corporal helped Ayan with their baggage on the car.

“Your Imperial Majesty, my apologies for disobeying your demands, but at this point, I can’t risk your safety,” Marcel replied. “The target of those Ilocanos is you, and if the people learns of what’s going on in Palayan, they’d surely follow and give away our position. My men are already sacrificing their lives just to let us escape; please don’t waste their sacrifice.”

At that point, Pau fell silent. While seemingly a heartless decision, Lieutenant Spitz’ made his point. Nevertheless, the empress’ mind was burdened at the thought of leaving her friends and neighbors—people who helped and protected her for the recent years—at the mercy of the Ilocanos. “At least, let me say goodbye to them, Sir Lieutenant.”

Marcel, as the military man in-charge, was about to deny her request, but the Count of Sey intervened. “Your Imperial Majesty,” the chamberlain began, “please do remember that we are in a haste here. But by all means, please, lift up the hopes of your subjects before you leave.”

Pau nodded, and went back to greet her guests and well-wishers. Some of them even brought their children—many were toddlers—to have their monarch lay her hands on them and receive blessing. As Marcel watched them, the corporal called his attention and whispered something.

“Sir, a few of the civilians are telling me they saw a few Ilocano Humvees down the road to Palayan.

“Start the engine,” the lieutenant replied. “We’ll go around the other way.”

The corporal gave him a salute and went on his way. Marcel then came to yank Pau out of the adoring crowd.

“What are you doing?” she never hid her angry surprise at his action. “Can’t you give me a few minutes?”

“I’m sorry, Your Imperial Majesty, time is up,” Marcel lowered his voice, akin to a whisper, so that the people wouldn’t hear him. “If you won’t cooperate, then I’ll be forced to carry you. Do you want that? You’ll lose your dignity over something like this? You can come back for them later, you know?”

The empress pouted, though she had no choice with the situation. As she begrudgingly complied to the lieutenant, however…

“Tagalogs, this is the commander of the Ilocano army’s elite soldiers, the Black Jaguars, Colonel Ereneo Singson! Do not panic! We come in peace; we do not wish to kill and pillage your place, as long as you cooperate.” The words of the Ilocano commander speaking through a loudspeaker froze everyone. A pair of Humvees approached the center of the barangay, coming from the direction of Palayan.

“Ah shit!” Marcel blurted out. He quickly brought out his service revolver, ready to hold off the enemy. But then…

“Sir,” it was Pau’s neighbors, led by one of their close friends. “Please, we’ll hold off these guys for you; escape with our empress!”

“What are you going to do?” Pau asked him. “Don’t tell me, you’ll fight them!”

“We are civilians. We can do something to protect our own!” they reassured her. “Meanwhile, you need to get out of here, Your Imperial Majesty!”

“Please, stay safe, Carding! Everyone!” the empress pleaded as the barangay captain stepped forward from the wall of people to confront the Ilocanos. Marcel, for his part, took the opportunity to pull Pau out of the crowd and into the waiting car.

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The Humvees stopped just as the barangay captain and his deputies met the Ilocanos halfway. Behind him, the men of Pau’s barangay remained standing like a wall between the enemy and their monarch, having sent their wives and children back to the safety of their houses. The commander of the Ilocano forces alighted the leading vehicle and greeted the officials.

“Good evening, Tagalog! We’re sorry for the late-night visit,” the soldier removed his beret and flashed a friendly smile to the Orientals. “We just received a report that someone important to us is here. By any chance, have any of you seen Imperial Guard soldiers in the area?”

“We apologize, Manong, there’s no one else of importance that dropped by our humble community for long,” the barangay captain replied. “Perhaps you’re looking at the wrong barangay?”

The Ilocano commander chuckled and drew his pistol, pointing it towards the officials. His soldiers followed suit, with the machine gunners training their weapons on the civilians behind. “Listen here, Tagalog. We play no games here, and we don’t want you to waste our time. We know that your new emperor is here; all you need to do is to make way for us, and no one gets hurt. Are we getting a deal on this?”

The sight of high-powered firearms on their faces made the barangay officials silent, though they still stood in the way of the Ilocano convoy. The quiet defiance of the Orientals irritated the commander, and he demanded,

“I will count to three. If you don’t stand aside, we’ll shoot. One. Two. Three—!!!”

However, the Ilocano wasn’t able to pull the trigger. On his final count, a bullet struck him on the head, immediately killing him. While initially shocked, his soldiers avenged him by shooting at the civilians. Of course, the Orientals wouldn’t just stand and wait to be killed; the ensuing chaos of everyone trying to escape the hail of bullets, and save their families ensured that the Ilocanos would have a difficult time to search the barangay for the person they wanted.

“…”

Away from a considerable distance, in a hidden part of the road that led away from the area, there was a growth of bushes and trees that obscured anyone who hid in it. There, a person with a glowing green robotic eye stood, his service revolver still smoking on his right hand, and an eye patch hanging on his left. As he watched the explosions, and listened to the chatter of rifles followed by horrific screams and cries of civilians, Lieutenant Marcel Spitz holstered his gun, put back the eye patch on his robotic eye, smoothened the creases of his trench coat, and went back to the waiting car of the empress.