From ten thousand feet, a free fall to the ground took under sixty seconds. She glanced at the crate. Its parachute was set to open at three thousand feet. Her team would release their own at two thousand, to keep them well clear of its unguided descent. Any second . . .

A spring-loaded cap popped from the crate’s parachute pack, a small pilot chute firing out into the airstream and pulling the black main canopy after it. She shot past it as it opened. A glance upwards to make sure the parachute had deployed correctly, then she looked back at her men. They had spread out to ensure nobody collided.

The ground rushed at them. Two thousand feet—

Wu pulled her ripcord as more dark shapes blossomed below. She took hold of the control lines to guide herself in for a landing.

Now that she had slowed, there was time to check the area below. A road wound around the rock, but there was no traffic on it. A single white vehicle sat stationary on what looked like an abandoned airstrip. Park rangers, probably – but were they already helping Wilde and Chase?

She angled towards the dirt runway. Her men did the same. The crate continued on its original course; it would touch down west of their landing zone.

Trees took on three-dimensional form as she neared the ground. Another tug on the cords to avoid them, guiding herself to her target. A hundred feet, fifty—

She pulled to slow herself, making a perfect landing and quickly collapsing the canopy. Her men touched down just as expertly. She looked back. The crate’s parachute dropped out of sight behind the trees about a kilometre away.

Wu shrugged off the empty pack. There was no point wasting time gathering and burying the chutes; like all their other gear, they had no markings that could link them directly to China. Instead she unholstered her sidearm, a compact Heckler & Koch MP7 personal defence weapon, and signalled the others to head for the vehicle.

Macy looked up at the sound of a plane thundering overhead – and saw a jet pass directly over the rock. ‘Wow! That’s coming in low.’

Sandra, crouching to show her an insect nest, watched the airliner pass with concern. ‘It is low. And it’s completely missed the airport. Maybe it’s in trouble.’ She stood, looking back the way it had come – and gasped. ‘Crikey!’

Macy saw a line of black parachutes dropping swiftly towards the earth. ‘Oh no,’ she said, horrified. ‘We have to get out of here!’

‘What is it? Who are they?’

‘They’re from China, they must be! They’ve followed us! Come on!’ She tugged the woman’s sleeve. ‘We’ve got to get to the jeep!’

‘Barney’s still inside the rock,’ Sandra protested. ‘And so are your mum and dad.’

‘They’d want us to go, trust me. Come on!’ Macy pulled at her arm again, desperate.