Loh nodded. Herbert wheeled to the side so he could see her. She pounded on the door.

“Mr. Darling, we will not let you depart,” she said.

Herbert had watched the crew run off. They had hurried to the small, fenced-in parking lot. Darling’s driver was still there. He was probably instructed to wait until his employer was airborne before departing. Herbert was glad. He did not want Jessica-Ann to see this.

“Mr. Darling! Open the door!” Loh insisted.

Herbert turned back to the cockpit. He could see the top of Darling’s head. He was seated in the pilot’s seat.

The jet began to move.

“Officer Loh, get off!” Herbert cried.

The Singaporean officer continued to hit the cockpit door.

Herbert did not know whether Darling was playing chicken. Even if he managed to get past the helicopter and take off, he would have difficulty maintaining equilibrium with the door open. A jet that size would be impacted by sudden shifts in air pressure, by fluctuations in temperature.

That assumes Jervis Darling is thinking rationally, Herbert thought. For the past few minutes, the Australian had been in the throes of a fight-or-flight response. Reason is not a strong component of that.

Herbert looked up at the helicopter. He gestured for the pilot to move in. The flier expertly maneuvered the chopper closer. He turned the aircraft perpendicular to the jet and lowered the port-side strut toward the windshield. Herbert could see the Learjet wings fluttering from the chopper’s downdraft. The jet continued to move forward, gaining speed. The two vehicles were about ten yards apart. They would collide in moments.

Herbert had never felt so helpless. He wanted to run onto the Learjet and help Officer Loh kick in the door. Instead, he rolled back as the two vehicles hit. The jet slowed with the impact but continued to move ahead. The helicopter was knocked slightly to its starboard. The rotor tilted precariously.

It was surreal, like watching a pair of prehistoric behemoths do battle. The pilot swung away and righted the helicopter. He rose in a tight arc and prepared to drop down again.

Herbert motioned aggressively for him to stop. As much as the intelligence chief wanted Darling, he did not want to damage the jet. Darling might still try to take off. Herbert wanted the man in prison, not in the morgue.

Someone came running from the tower. Two police cars were just entering the airstrip behind the jet. So was another vehicle, with a familiar driver. Paul Leyland was at the wheel with Spider riding the running board.

The fire brigade had been called by the tower, and a squat red rural Nissan Patrol Light Attack fire truck was racing forward. There was a 600-liter water tank mounted to the back. The Queensland firefighters used it to battle blazes away from hydrants.

And that was when Herbert got an idea.