People keep saying that Bato should be mad at the government. Maybe. Fine. Governments do government things. Sharks bite. Mosquitoes spread dengue. Senators betray each other. Normal country.

But if we’re Bato?

We’re staring at Alan Peter first. Absolutely staring. Very nasty thoughts. Long silences. The kind where you suddenly stop chewing.

Because Bongbong’s people? Predictable. Everybody knew they were the danger. Clear enemy. Straight line. Shark in the water.

You don’t get devastated when the shark bites. You expect the shark. Terrible animal. But honest.

The people hunting Bato never convinced him to come out.

Alan did. Alan Peter’s was the soothing voice.

“Brother, come back. Totally secure. Beautiful situation. We got you.”

Beautiful situation?

Bato was hidden so well he became a legend. The man stopped being a senator and became a sighting.

“Pare, somebody saw him near Petron in Tarlac.” Children asking: “Mommy, is Bato real?”

Mothers whispering: “Eat your vegetables. Or Alan Peter will find you.”

Then suddenly Alan Peter needs a plus one. Then boom.

Bato? Running. Running. The country didn’t even know anymore. Was he running from the NBI? Or because he was late for Senate President Alan Peter Cayetano?

If we were Bato, we would ask a very simple, very unfair question, “President Alan, why was I safer before you helped me?”

Because now we get the full law enforcement ordered to implement an arrest. Full machinery. Everyone activated. 

Don’t give us, “Maybe Alan didn’t know.”

No. Alan Peter is smart. Incredible persuasion. That’s why this feels ugly.

This is a lawyer. Shrewd operator. Procedural trad-pol. Certainly knows there’s no legal doctrine called Fort Bato. That wanted senators do not become invisible when hidden in public.

Ridiculous.

So if Alan still brought Bato into the hottest political building in the country at the hottest possible moment, then the question becomes terrifying.

Did Alan care about Bato? Maybe. But did he need Bato more than he feared for him?

Aaaaah! There it is.

That’s the line keeping broken electric fans in use in government buildings.

Alan rises. Bato falls. That would haunt Bato forever, replaying friendly conversations at 2 a.m.

Bato wasn’t even allowed to enjoy the fantasy of protection. Three days, Bato. That’s all Fort Bato lasted, and the promise of true friendship. Alan Peter probably still thinks he helped you.

The fact that he was slipped into the Senate and slipped out again proves he’s disposable. Used. Needed alive until the vote. The extraction itself may have hurt more than abandonment would have.

Because once you’re quietly moved out the back while the institution continues to function normally, you realize something terrible: “The Senate can go on without me.”

The ICC didn’t expect this much motivation. Very eager, frankly. Very divided. Beautiful chaos. 

Which, by the way, explains why we need the ICC in the first place. Imagine, the ICC didn’t find Bato. Philippine politicos did. Not enemies. Allies.