Once through that, it was smooth flying over the mountains leading down to Chiang Mai. He flew in low, took note of the airstrip, circled and flew higher to make the landing. The Cessna glided in with a mild crosswind causing a wobble as it bounced along the grass runway. Cavalier drove the plane to a corner of the small airfield, switched it off and sat in silence for a moment. There were the sounds of cars in the distance. The main airport was closed, with one light covering a small part of the field. Planes sat like large toys in the distance.

Cavalier looked around. There were three small planes parked nearby, one of them half in a hangar. He tried to ring Wombat in Melbourne. This time he got through. The line was bad.

‘I’ve landed in CM with a load. It’s heroin.’

‘Jesus! How did you do that?’

‘Long story. Is Ian Gillman coming? Has he got an ambulance?’

‘I emailed him. Couldn’t reach him on the phone. I did organise an ambulance.’

‘I can’t see one. It’s not yet dawn here. I need to be at a hospital. Tell him to do what he wants with the plane and load. There’s about a tonne of the drug.’

Cavalier rang off, put the phone in his backpack and eased out of the plane. The pain was worse than ever. Every extra movement caused blood to seep. He began to limp away when a jeep, lights on high beam, began speeding towards him. Cavalier stopped. A bullet whistled past. He ducked for cover behind the plane when a second bullet brought up dust near him. A third hit Cavalier on the side of the head. He was slammed against the plane and knocked out.

Three CIA operatives, led by 40-year-old veteran agent Ian Gillman, approached in the jeep, unsure if their quarry was hit or foxing. They rolled forward until they were fifty metres from the plane. The three agents jumped from the vehicle and crept to the plane from different angles.

‘He’s down,’ Gillman said, as he holstered his revolver. The three men examined their victim.

‘Jesus H. Christ!’ Gillman said. ‘It’s the guy we’re supposed to help!’ They tried to prop up Cavalier. ‘Lift him into the jeep and take him to the hospital on Changklan Road. Fast!’

‘Shit!’ one of the agents said, opening Cavalier’s jacket. ‘He’s lost a lot of blood.’

*

At 8 a.m. Wombat was in phone contact with Gillman.

‘Your email said something about a drug haul and the guys that murdered our guy,’ Gillman said, confused.

‘Do you know how to scroll an email?’

‘Yeah.’

‘I sent you the entire exchange! I said at the top that our wounded man was onboard but you just went in all guns blazing!’ Wombat was fuming. ‘If our man dies, you’re in big trouble.’