Scurrying over to the Jet Ranger, he rolled underneath. With trembling fingers, he pulled out a length of the synthetic cord, tied one end to the grenade’s ring pull, and experimentally tugged. It wouldn’t budge until he removed the safety clip preventing accidental removal, which took another ten seconds to figure out by feel.

Nash glanced anxiously over his shoulder. The glowing cigarette ends in the cave mouth were still stationary, but for how much longer? It was tempting to just wrap the cord a few times around a skid, but he could not risk his handiwork being discovered in daylight. At last he found a convenient niche to secrete the grenade, in a bracket weld where the landing skid braces intersected.

He had just unravelled the remaining cord when a guard yelled, ‘Di mana dia?’

Flashlights swept back and forth in the rain. Rolling on to his stomach, Nash wrapped the free end of the cord several times around a large flat rock, before tying it off with a hasty half hitch. They were almost on him now. Keeping the helicopter between them, he crawled a few metres, undid his trousers, and squatted a split second before the flashlight beams found him.

‘Jangan bergerak!’ an angry voice challenged.

‘Sorry, had to go!’

There was a pause before they averted their beams.

‘Cepat . . . hurry up!’

Nash waited a few moments, then he stood up and buckled his trousers.

‘What the fuck took you so long?’ Boerman challenged when they returned to the cave.

‘Call of nature.’ Nash dropped two more rocks down with a thud. ‘You want some more?’

The big man had finished carving increments on the timber staff and had positioned it on the ledge. Even as Nash watched him add the rocks to the pile, the water was visibly creeping higher.

‘Enough of this bullshit.’ Boerman wiped his hands on his trousers. ‘If it floats away, one of these dickheads can go for a swim and fetch it.’

Chapter 37

Chapter 37

‘Poetic justice,’ Douglas murmured in the gloom of the tent. ‘I like it. And if our attack goes to plan, we can always disarm your party trick and fly the Jet Ranger out of here. Would be less explaining to do on the other side of the border, too.’

Douglas was right. Not only did they have to escape from Indonesian Papua; they ran the very real risk of retribution in PNG, and could not count themselves safe until they were off the island completely.

Nash looked down at the shadowy form of Mia, fast asleep under the coarse blanket, and felt like crawling in beside her. Then he thought of all those crazy night surfs, how he had wished for death to take away the pain. Now death was staring him in the face, he realised how much he wanted to live again.

Douglas seemed to divine this in the darkness.

‘You’ll do fine tomorrow, laddie.’

‘You think so?’