The jungle camp had become a sanctuary of sorts. For weeks following the daring prison break, rebel numbers swelled. Volunteers poured in from villages and barrios inspired by tales of Elijah's cunning. Supplies were scavenged or donated, blacksmiths and farmers retooled their trades to support the cause, and Luna's guerrilla army grew bolder.
But where fire burned brightest, shadows clung close.
It began with whispers. Then missing messages. Delayed shipments. A failed ambush where American forces appeared to have prior knowledge of the rebels' plans. Luna, ever suspicious, convened his inner circle one evening in a dimly lit hut deep in the jungle.
"The Americans knew we'd be there," Luna growled. "That ambush at Bagong Tubig... they were waiting for us. Not scouting. Waiting."
"They hit our vanguard with mortars," added Remo. "We lost twelve men before we could even fire a shot."
Elijah's face darkened. "There's a leak."
General San Miguel nodded solemnly. "And not a small one. They're getting high-level intelligence."
Isa glanced at the door. "We have to assume the traitor is among us."
There was silence.
Then Luna fixed his gaze on Elijah. "Find them. Quietly. Root them out before they ruin everything."
The Investigation Begins
Elijah began by reviewing every failed operation. Patterns emerged—operations led by Captain Hilario Venzon, a decorated officer with a spotless record. Yet three missions under his command had been intercepted.
Elijah paid the captain a visit. Venzon, tall, proud, and charming, welcomed him with a smile.
"Chief Strategist," he said, pouring a drink. "What brings you to my tent?"
"Just checking on morale," Elijah said, watching his eyes. "You've been leading some risky patrols. Losses have been... notable."
Venzon stiffened slightly. "War is never clean, Delos Reyes. You of all people should know that."
"I do," Elijah said, sipping. "I also know that the patrol hit near Bagong Tubig took the trail only Luna and I approved—just hours before the assault."
Venzon's hand twitched.
Elijah stood. "I appreciate your time."
Outside, Isa waited.
"He's hiding something," Elijah whispered. "But he's too careful."
"We dig deeper," she said.
The Web Tightens
Over the next several days, Elijah and Isa surveilled Venzon's communications. At midnight, a young courier slipped into the officer's tent and left minutes later. Elijah and Remo followed him through the jungle to a dried riverbed, where he left a satchel beneath a false rock.
They intercepted it. Inside were coded papers, American gold, and a map of rebel supply lines.
"He's selling us out," Remo hissed.
"No," Elijah said, eyes narrowing. "He's not alone."
That night, Elijah gathered Luna, San Miguel, and Isa.
"There's a cell embedded in our command," he explained. "Venzon is the link, but he's being protected—by someone higher or more subtle."
Luna frowned. "There's only one way to flush them out."
The Trap
They set a false operation in motion—an ambush on an American patrol near the village of Tayabas. Elijah briefed only Venzon and two others: a loyal sergeant named Ibarra and a junior officer under Isa's watch.
Three days later, the Americans showed up early, fully armed and fortified.
Ibarra was killed. Half the ambush team never returned.
Venzon was summoned immediately. He denied everything. Claimed coincidence. Elijah ordered him imprisoned under Luna's authority.
But that night, Venzon escaped.
Through a back tunnel. Guard posts bribed. The camp thrown into disarray.
Elijah stormed into Luna's war tent. "He had help!"
Luna slammed a fist onto the map table. "Then we find them all."
The Assassin in the Camp
Three nights later, the conspirators struck again. An assassin crept into Isa's quarters with a dagger. She awoke just in time, disarmed him, and pinned him with a blade to his throat.
"Elijah... Elijah sent me..." the man gasped.
Isa's eyes blazed. "Liar."
The man cracked under interrogation. He was one of Venzon's loyalists, tasked with eliminating Isa and framing Elijah. Behind it all was a hidden network—rogue revolutionaries promised positions of power under an American-controlled Philippines.
"They believe the war is lost," the man wept. "They want to survive... even if it means selling the country."
Elijah turned away in disgust.
Purging the Ranks
The next morning, Luna stood before the entire camp.
"Captain Venzon is a traitor," he declared. "He is to be executed on sight. Any man or woman caught aiding him, or the Americans, will face the same."
But Elijah's voice followed, hard and cold. "We must be better than them. We fight for more than victory—we fight for the soul of our nation."
The purge was swift but just. Trials were held. Confessions recorded. The conspiracy was crushed.
Yet the wounds it left were deep.
Isa, tending her bandaged shoulder, leaned beside Elijah by the fire that night.
"You saved the revolution from within," she said quietly.
He looked into the flames. "Or just bought us time."
She took his hand.
"No. You gave it a future."
And in the silence that followed, as jungle insects hummed and distant howls echoed, Elijah realized something terrifying and beautiful:
This war would not be won by guns or gold.
It would be won by trust.