The computer at his station was running a flight tracking program, showing the positions of numerous aircraft over the Java Sea. ‘No, Major,’ he replied. ‘I explained the situation, but since then they haven’t responded.’ He indicated one of the dots, the Longitude’s tail number beside it. ‘They’re still holding course for Australia.’

‘Hui gave Chase a weapon,’ growled Wu. ‘He’s probably got them at gunpoint.’ Her face darkened at the thought of the traitorous scientist. Hui had held out for hours of interrogation, to the younger woman’s surprise and anger, before finally giving up the information she had been protecting. She had used her authority as head of the research facility to put Wilde and Chase – and her son – on the same plane that had brought them to Cangliang, now on its way to the Nephilim’s destination: the great red rock of Uluru in Australia.

Wu had been disgusted – both at the scale of Hui’s treachery, and at her own failure to realise the significance of the jet’s absence. Her father’s death had affected her judgement. She should stand down.

But she couldn’t bring herself to do that. The Nephilim had to pay – not just for his murder, but for declaring war on her country. They were a threat to China – with the stolen qi weapon, to the whole world . . .

That thought suddenly changed her entire perspective. Recapturing Wilde and Chase was no longer important. If anything, they might actually help – by leading her to the last of the Nephilim. From what Hui told her, the Shangdi had imprisoned hundreds, even thousands, of the giants in suspended animation. If Gadreel freed them, an army of monsters would emerge to attack humanity.

But she had a chance to stop them; to exterminate the entire nest . . .

She turned to another officer. ‘Get me the Central Military Commission in Beijing. I need to speak to the head of special operations forces. And also,’ she added, face set and grim, ‘the commander of the tactical nuclear division.’

Chapter 40

40

Uluru, Australia

Dawn was still a couple of hours away, but Rosie Tapaya was already at work. The park ranger guided her white Land Cruiser around the long road circumnavigating the great sacred rock of Uluru, the curves of both as intimately familiar to her as a lover’s, then turned off the asphalt, heading north-east into open desert.

The 4x4’s banks of spotlights cut through the darkness to illuminate the rust-red terrain. Normally she would have taken it slowly – even knowing the track, it was still a bumpy ride – but tonight, lives could be at stake.

Whose lives, she had no idea. When she was first stirred from sleep by a call from her boss, Sandra Piddock, she’d thought it was a joke. A UFO landing in the park? Sounded like, as she’d politely put it, a load of ’roo poo.