‘But I need to see Lieutenant Kaboro.’

‘It is not possible.’

‘Excuse me, but my friend needs urgent medical attention. I must speak to the lieutenant.’

As Mia tried to push past, the tall guard stiff-armed her backwards, and slammed the steel door in her face.

‘Hey!’ she shouted angrily, trying the door again, but he was holding the handle on the other side. She banged on the door several times, tried it again, but fear soon tempered her anger. Somehow, the Indonesians must have got to Kaboro and regained control of the ship.

A sudden vision of Rob’s lifeless body floating in the ship’s wake chilled her until she shook herself out of it. They hadn’t brought him all this way for nothing. But where did that leave her and Frank?

Two long hours passed. Too frightened to test the door again, Mia kept checking the portholes, but there was no activity on deck and, if anything, the jungle looked thicker and wilder. All she could do was monitor Frank Douglas, who continued to worsen.

There was no medical explanation for his condition. His thrashing convulsions reminded Mia of dengue fever, but his temperature had mysteriously returned to normal, and there was no vomiting. She could detect no whiff of corruption either; the wound site was draining freely, and the adjacent glands were not enlarged.

Mia was dribbling a little water down Douglas’s throat when Singkepe arrived, firmly shutting the door behind him.

‘Sergeant, please tell me what is going on.’

‘No talking,’ he said flatly. ‘Orders.’

‘Lieutenant Kaboro’s orders?’

Singkepe went into the galley and began throwing chips, Coca-Cola, chocolate bars and cans of Spam into a cardboard box. Covered in stinking soot, the set of his wide shoulders suggested he was angry.

‘There’s juice under the cupboard,’ she volunteered. ‘And more bread in the freezer.’

His grunt of acknowledgement encouraged her.

‘Look, Sergeant, I don’t understand what is happening here, and maybe you and Lieutenant Kaboro don’t know either. But you must know we’ve done nothing wrong. Please help us.’

Singkepe picked up his loaded box.

‘Oh, come on, Sergeant,’ she groaned. ‘At least tell me if Rob is all right.’

The burly NCO hesitated. Mia knew Nash was popular with the men. When Singkepe inclined his head a fraction, she felt a rush of elation and relief.

She was about to ask another question when a series of violent convulsions began jolting Douglas as if he was hooked up to a power point. Mia went to his side as the comatose man fitted, making sure he was not vomiting or choking on his tongue. Singkepe appeared interested, despite himself, and came over for a closer look.

‘Have you ever seen anything like this?’ Mia listed Douglas’s unusual symptoms.