Jax watched as the light beam slashed its way through the dark then the Serpent lit up his centrepiece, the group of numbers.

‘And he shall rise!’ the Serpent roared.

Then he turned off the torch – and vanished.

CHAPTER 46

Goulburn Correctional Centre, Goulburn, NSW, Australia

THE Mahdi had a hell of a time trying to separate the SIM from the plastic card that it came in. He always struggled with this part.

‘Oh my,’ he said as he pressed a little too forcefully and his thumb sent the SIM high into the air.

He got down on his hands and knees and scoured the floor.

‘There you are,’ he said when he found it.

Eventually, he got it into the fresh burner phone.

‘There,’ he said, tray replaced and phone turned on.

Christmas night, long past lights out, the prison silent, everyone asleep. The Mahdi beamed a broad smile as he logged on. It was finally time.

Username: Mahdi_93/241. Password: Hewillrise_85/159.

He clicked on ‘Account details’ and then ‘Transfer funds’, keyed in all the details and moved down to ‘Send’.

But he didn’t click. Not yet. He wanted to savour the moment. The anticipation was the best part.

Now.

He hit ‘Enter’ and made the first deposit: sixty-one cents. And then, as quick as he could, he made the next three. He took a deep breath before clicking his way to the ‘Transaction history’ page. He knew he’d got it right, but only a fool wouldn’t check.

25 December

04:00:00 Withdrawal –$0.61

04:00:06 Withdrawal –$4.80

04:00:13 Withdrawal –$0.19

04:00:16 Withdrawal –$4.58

He checked the numbers against his prepaid $20 SIM card. Correct. He looked at the silver Seiko strapped to his wrist.

Tick, tock.

‘WE’VE intercepted the first transaction,’ a clad-in-black ASIO tech said as he turned away from his computer screen. ‘Sixty-one cents. I repeat: sixty-one. The first two digits of the number are six and one.’

‘Do we have a name? Clarke yelled. ‘A location?’

‘The betting account is registered to Walid Salim. But we don’t have a location. He’s using a VPN, so we don’t even know what country he’s in.’

Sami turned and walked to the back of the truck. The command vehicle was part of a convoy parked in the reception area of the prison, which had been deserted since dusk. He talked into the walkie-talkie he’d been strangling since the operation began.

‘Get me everything you can on an Australian male named Walid Salim,’ he ordered. Then he paused as the tech belted out the next three numbers.

‘Travel records first,’ Sami continued. ‘We need a location. And photos.’

WALID read out the final three numbers as Chris punched them into the brand-new mobile phone.

‘Er . . . eight?’ Chris asked after hitting the keypad twice.

‘Yes,’ Walid roared, ‘the last number is eight. Are you fucking retarded? Can’t you remember three numbers?’

‘I was just checking,’ Chris said as he punched in the final digit.