He was giving Mia further instructions on the pony tank when there was a sudden disturbance in the sinkhole. A great gout of water and air belched up from the submerged exit passage, driving powerful waves in every direction. The soldiers cried out in alarm as a waist-high wall of white water bore down on them and washed right over the stern. The last man in line was swept, howling, into the green water and never reappeared.

‘It’s coming,’ Nash told Mia grimly. ‘Be ready.’

By now the cargo net was almost down, and the NCO had his pistol out. He gesticulated at Nash to come forward and take the walkie-talkie.

‘It’s overflowing the cave!’ Sura sounded shrill. ‘If you want your friends to live, keep salvaging the opium.’ She broke off to shout at someone. ‘No, no, take it up to the helicopter. I’ll be right behind you. Tell Ricki we’re going as soon as I get there.’ There was a squawk as she returned her mouth to the receiver. ‘Do you understand me, Mr Nash?’

‘Yeah, I heard you the first time. Have a safe flight.’

Nash grinned manically at Mia. The parting shot was gratuitous, but he figured they deserved it.

When the cargo net hit the flooding deck, the terrified soldiers fought each other to get inside. Nash turned to retrieve the pony tank when Mia screamed.

‘Rob!’

The NCO had an arm wrapped around her throat, and was dragging her backwards into the cargo net. His pistol was aimed at Nash’s face.

‘You stay! You stay!’

Mia reached out in silent dismay through the web of ropes as the net tightened.

Nash watched helplessly as the heavily laden net was hoisted into the air.

Chapter 38

Chapter 38

Like a sluice gate opening on a dam, the lake in the Hoosenbeck Cavern overflowed and instantly transformed the river bed into a white-water rapid. Within minutes it had reached the Kopassus camp, almost sweeping away a slow-moving gunship pilot, before recklessly charging on until it smashed headlong into the rocky remains of Martin Heider’s dam. Here it slowed, backing up, growing ever deeper as it relentlessly funnelled through to rejoin its underground twin at the resurgence pool and become whole again. But there was one more twist in the Hoosenbeck’s annual transmogrification. As volumes increased, and the subterranean system reached maximum capacity, the river rose even further, and just above the Kopassus camp, an offshoot broke free of the riverbanks, racing along a scoured channel to plunge more than a hundred metres into the sinkhole with a bone-shaking roar.

Ignoring the chaos unfolding outside, Boerman worked like a machine, jemmying and hauling the solid, massively heavy lock boxes out of their inverted frames, smashing open their infuriating mechanisms, shaking out their precious contents, then loading the steel bucket with gold bars.

A hand thumped him on the back.

‘Fuck off!’ he roared. ‘Can’t you see I’m busy?’