In the Presence of My Enemies Read Online Free PDF Page A

amount of money to be transferred, and Reggie’s release was promised.
    By this time, Guillermo was definitely showing signs of stress. He was on a lot of medication due to a recent nervous breakdown, he explained, adding something about being overwhelmed by a messy divorce that wasn’t yet finalized. Now we could see him going through withdrawal. His body quivered from time to time, and his voice was shaky.
    This boat was certainly slower than the speedboat had been. “Where are we headed?” one of the hostages asked.
    The answer from the Abu Sayyaf was vague: “We’ll just see. . . .”
    I was painfully aware that I wasn’t dressed properly for the Muslim standard. Of course, they hadn’t given me time back in the room to do anything better. Other women were still in their pajamas. I sat there feeling embarrassed that, in their minds, I was just another typical “loose” American woman in my shorts and T-shirt. I began asking the Lord to protect me.
    Sometime that morning Fe gave me a long piece of lace for a terong (head covering), and someone else threw me a malong. Although my bare arms were still showing, I was at least somewhat more presentable to Muslim eyes.
    Solaiman wanted us to know that we were in an atmosphere of high morals. “Would we ever lie to you? No. Would we ever steal from you? No. Would we ever touch the women? Never. The Koran forbids these things.” He began to rhapsodize about how great it is when Allah is the ruler and the Koran is the guidebook—as in Afghanistan, their cherished model. “Afghanistan will show the world how great the truly Islamic state can be. You know, in Islam, if you’re a thief, they cut off your hand. That’s how things ought to be.”
    I thought to myself, Wait a minute—didn’t you guys just steal Martin’s wedding ring?!
----
----
May 27
Lynn Burggraf, New Tribes missionary and close family friend, is assigned to break the bad news to the Burnham children—Jeff, Mindy, and Zach.
----
----
    “In Islam, all the women are dressed properly, with nothing showing but their eyes. If a lady’s eyes are causing a scandal, even they will be covered. There are no enticements to sin, no Western movies, no drinking, no smoking, no drugs.”
    Our captors’ greatest goal, it seemed, was to get to Afghanistan. What a utopia that would be, they said. But if that didn’t work out, they would settle for their second choice: to go to America and get a good job!
    At some point that day, Sabaya asked Martin to get on the sat-phone and make a statement to Radyo Agong in Mindanao. This radio station, we eventually learned, was friendly to Abu Sayyaf interests and willing to air their messages when asked.
    So Martin prepared to speak; the voice would be his, but the script came from Sabaya, of course:
I, Martin Burnham, along with my wife, Gracia, who have lived in the Philippines for fifteen years, members of New Tribes Mission, have been taken hostage by the Abu Sayyaf, the Janjalani group. . . .
    Actually, Sabaya wanted him to say Al-Harakatul Islamia, which means “the Islamic Movement,” but Martin was afraid he would blow the pronunciation.
    “Okay, then just call us ‘the Osama bin Laden group,’ ” Sabaya said.
    Here in late May 2001, a full three months before September 11, that name meant nothing to me. Martin told me later that he had heard it once or twice.
    “Can I just say ‘the Janjalani group,’ because I know that term, and I won’t get tripped up?” Martin asked, referring to the group’s founder, who had died in battle a couple of years before. Approval was granted. His speech continued:
We appeal to the American and Philippine governments to work to bring this situation to a peaceful end very soon.
    As usual, Martin kept his cool, talking very calmly without notes. When he finished, he came over to me.
    “You did a good job, honey,” I said. “You always do.”
    Near the end of the day, Chito, who was full of life and spunk, decided