‘Don’t let him land with that thing,’ Mia muttered. ‘Go tell Kaboro . . . I’ll see to Frank.’

Up on deck, the soldiers, who were now drained of bloodlust, stood there passively watching a primitive enemy mown down by technology that they were helpless against. Kaboro was soaked in sweat; he seemed to be in a kind of dumbfounded trance as the acrid smoke billowed around him.

‘Kaboro? Kaboro!’ Nash had to seize him by the shoulder to make him turn around. ‘Did you order this?’

‘Good God . . . No, I did not!’

‘Then find Sura. Make her call them off!’

They located Sura on the helicopter pad, casually watching the carnage like a spectator sport, with a walkie-talkie in her hand.

‘Get him to cease fire,’ Kaboro snarled, pointing the M16 at her face. ‘Do it, now!’

Hiding behind the thick bole of an old casuarina, Daniel listened to the last of his wantoks being cut down. The fire had almost burned itself out. Through the dissipating clouds of smoke, he could see the top of the grey ship above the exposed, scorched riverbank.

Daniel kept the bole between himself and the circling predator above. But eventually his shredded nerves betrayed him. Breaking cover, he sprinted across the charred ground towards the line of trees. The helicopter filled the sky behind him as it swooped.

Stumbling on a rock, Daniel fell heavily and rolled over in a heap. Face down, he played dead and prayed for the spirits to protect him. For a moment it seemed to work. The furious wind of the machine’s blades beat steadily on his naked back, but there were no bullets; perhaps they could not see him? Then he realised they were playing with him, waiting for him to make a move.

Eventually, he could take the shame no more. Slowly getting to his feet, Daniel found himself staring into the blue eyes of a white-haired devil. He was so close that Daniel could almost touch him. Spreading his arms wide, he waited to join his father and son.

The devil smiled and pulled the trigger.

The battered Jet Ranger settled awkwardly on the sloping pad. It was surrounded by the six remaining PNGDF personnel, who had their weapons trained on the cockpit, while Kaboro stood with Sura and Nash. The rotor came to a halt and a sweaty Boerman stepped from the cockpit, smeared with ash.

‘Don’t thank me all at once,’ he grinned happily, M60 dangling in one hand.

‘Put down your weapon,’ Kaboro ordered. ‘You are under arrest.’

‘Arrest?’ Boerman scoffed. ‘I just saved your life.’

Sura looked up and flashed her best media anchor smile.

‘Lieutenant, why don’t we all calm down and discuss this amicably? After all, we’re on the same side.’

‘The same side?’ Nash said incredulously. ‘This is a massacre.’

‘Try and be reasonable. You can’t expect us to just sit around while armed terrorists try to kill us. This is legitimate self-defence.’