The concern in his voice opened the floodgates and her face crumpled.

‘Frank, I brought them here. It’s all my fault!’

The faces of the dead swam accusingly in her mind – Paomente, Millie, Kinsame, the three young men whose names she’d forgotten. Hadn’t Kinsame told her to stay away? Douglas put a comforting hand on her shoulder while she wept.

‘You couldn’t have anticipated this. Mia, you didn’t know.’ He blinked away his own tears. ‘Come on, kid, let’s hold it together now and find a way out of this.’

She took several deep breaths and wiped her face on her shirtsleeve.

Douglas lowered his voice. ‘Did you manage to get a message out at the mission?’

She shook her head. ‘The communications were destroyed. But at least I know what they’re after.’

Douglas was stunned when she told him.

‘In the Hoosenbeck?’

They broke off as Alatas clambered into the co-pilot’s seat. It was a short hop to the mission, which was now a hive of activity. As they circled to land, a soldier was slashing the grounds with the mission tractor. Two green canvas tents were pitched in the shade of the big fig. Mia’s empty stomach did a double flip when she sighted the familiar gold Jet Ranger beside the house; she dreaded seeing Sura, but at least she would see Rob.

‘An advance base,’ Douglas muttered as the engines wound down. ‘Looks like Sura had it all planned.’ His brow furrowed. ‘Wonder where Kaboro fits in?’

‘I think they’re collateral, Frank.’

Alatas stepped into their compartment and prodded Mia’s back painfully with his boot.

‘Let’s go.’

Two soldiers opened the gunship’s door and dragged out Douglas’s stretcher.

‘Hey, take it easy,’ he growled as they roughly bumped him against the skid. ‘I’m not dead yet.’

They were taken to Paul’s trashed office, given a can each of lukewarm orange soda, and a guard cut Mia’s cable tie so she could drink.

‘Where do you think Rob is?’ she sighed, rubbing circulation back into her wrists.

‘Probably still on the ship.’ By the gleam in Douglas’s eye, she realised her feelings were showing. ‘Don’t worry, kid.’ He gave her a wink. ‘He’s tougher than you think.’

Under the watchful eye of a young guard, she checked Douglas’s wound. Incredibly, there was a healthy scab with not a trace of infection.

‘In three days?’ She screwed her nose up. ‘That’s just not possible. How do you feel, Frank?’

‘Like a blue steak and an icy cold beer.’ While she chuckled, Douglas glanced casually over at the guard and, without changing tone, said, ‘You ugly dog-fornicator. Your mother must be a real bitch.’

Mia tensed for an explosive reaction, but the guard simply continued to stare at a point above their heads.