Kaboro stared at her with the unblinking gaze of one long inured to the injustices of realpolitik.

‘We might seem like savages to you, Miss Suyanto, but we have laws in Papua New Guinea. Now, get Mr Boerman to put his weapon down, or I will order my men to open fire.’

Chapter 22

Chapter 22

Mia’s expression was so full of apprehension that Nash felt a rush of protective concern.

‘Kaboro has disarmed and arrested them,’ he told her quickly. ‘Sura, too. They’re tied up and under guard on the quarterdeck.’

‘Oh, thank God.’ Mia’s shoulders slumped momentarily in relief before she straightened up. ‘Am I needed out there?’

‘I don’t think so.’

Her eyes narrowed in concern. ‘Are you all right? You don’t look well.’

With the immediate danger past, Nash was suddenly overwhelmed. Three young men had bled out on deck, and he had a feeling the blackened, twisted bodies scattered on the smoking riverbank would haunt him for the rest of his days.

‘Boerman wouldn’t stop,’ he murmured, gripping the doorway as a wave of nausea struck. ‘He just wouldn’t stop.’

Mia stunned him by coming over and wrapping her arms around him. Despite the pain of his injuries, the slim perfection of her took his breath away.

‘Thank you,’ she whispered.

‘For what?’

By way of answer she squeezed him tighter, and as they clung together, it struck Nash that this was no passing attraction. Something special was happening, something beyond his control, and it was only reluctantly that he released her when she pulled away to search his face.

‘What happens now?’

Nash blinked, then felt like a fool when he realised Mia wasn’t talking about them.

‘Kaboro’s gone out in the tender, looking for a signal to contact headquarters. At least we can evac Frank – Singkepe says he’ll personally hold a gun to Hartono’s head.’ He stared for a moment at the unconscious Douglas. ‘How is he doing?’

Mia’s face fell. ‘Rob, he’s tachycardic, in shock. I really don’t think he’d survive the flight, he’s just not strong enough.’ She put her hand on his arm. ‘I’m going to try and improve his vitals, but the medical kit is rudimentary at best. They don’t even have saline. I’m so sorry.’

Nash’s face darkened as he remembered Shangri-La’s claim they would provide first-rate medical backup.

‘I’ve got a defibrillator in the hold,’ he offered.

Mia’s expression suggested it would make no difference, and Douglas’s deathly pallor and ragged breathing told their own story. A cracked Formica table was a rotten place for a man’s life to end.

Douglas’s yellowing eyes suddenly snapped open.

‘Get it out,’ he growled in a low and hardly recognisable voice. ‘Bastard hurts like hell.’

Nash managed to stop him from grabbing hold of the taped-up arrow stump.

‘No, Frank, leave it!’