Rogue Element

Wilkes had momentarily forgotten about the Indon sergeant. He sized the man up and again considered the alternatives. The Kopassus soldier was an ugly son-of-a-bitch, that was for sure, with the skin on his face so badly pockmarked it had the appearance of a dirty golf-ball. He tried not to let the look of the man influence his decision either way. The humanitarian side of him considered leaving him behind to care for his own man, the snakebite victim. The SAS soldier in him thought that he should at least take the man with them so that their identity, strength and position weren’t passed to his Kopassus mates, if they happened to stumble across each other. The soldier won the internal debate. ‘He comes with us. Tell him any funny business and we send him to Allah,’ said Wilkes simply.

The woman stepped up to within centimetres of the Indon soldier, yelled something at him, then turned and walked away.

Wilkes pulled her aside. ‘You speak Bahasa. What did you say to him?’

‘That if he doesn’t behave you’ll stick your shotgun up his arse and pull the trigger,’ she said coolly.

Wilkes cleared his throat involuntarily. ‘That’s about right, Suryei, thanks. We’re moving off now to our rendezvous. Getting airlifted out in forty-six minutes. You could give us a hand by staying close to Joe and helping him. He’s going to need it. We’re not going to race, but I want to get there with time to spare to set up a few defences, just in case.’

‘Ah, what’s your name again?’ enquired Suryei, embarrassed, aware that in the surprise of the arrival of the Australian soldiers, she’d forgotten it.

‘Tom will do,’ said Wilkes. ‘And this is my merry band of wankers.’ Several men laughed out loud.

‘If there’s one thing Joe and I can do after three days in this place, it’s move through the jungle. Don’t worry about us.’

‘Okay.’

Suryei suddenly realised that she had no idea how long they had been marooned here. ‘What day is it?’

‘It’s Friday. Thank God.’

‘Are you sure?’

‘All day…’ said Tom with a smile.

Suryei couldn’t believe it. It was only Friday? So much had happened. She had left Sydney on the Tuesday afternoon, and the plane had crashed in the early hours of Wednesday morning, just two days ago. Unbelievable.

Suryei saw the soldier talk softly into the wire in front of his mouth. The mood in the clearing changed. Joe was lifted to his feet, supported by the soldier who’d dressed his wounds. Joe was obviously shaky, swaying on rubbery legs. Suryei went over to him and put her arm around him carefully, supporting him. He gave her a wan smile. Before she realised exactly what was going on, they were picking their way through the jungle again. Only this time it was different. The soldiers ahead were blazing the trail, and they knew where they were going. She felt safe with these people. They were her army. She felt good, secure, and Joe was doing better than expected.

As they walked, Wilkes reached up and plucked a piece of fruit, seemingly from out of the air, and gave it to her, smiling. He made a peeling gesture. She removed a portion of the skin and took a small bite. Whatever it was, it was sweet and delicious. She knew when they’d found the jackfruit that they were probably surrounded by food, and the soldier had just proved it. A small shiver went through her. It was good to be alive — a tangible thrill.

And then it hit her. The plane crash. The old couple shot dead. Finding Joe. Fire. Running. Death. And the awful question: why? Had the Qantas plane really been shot down because Joe had hacked into the Indonesian general’s computer and stolen invasion plans? Christ Almighty! The invasion! She couldn’t believe that she’d forgotten the most important thing.

Shit, it was more than important. And yet it had completely slipped her mind. Purely surviving had overwhelmed everything. One breath at a time. One step at a time. And why were Australian soldiers here in Indonesia fighting, shooting Indonesian soldiers? Jesus! Had it already begun? Were Australia and Indonesia at war? One country’s soldiers didn’t go into another country and kill that country’s soldiers unless they were. The thought sent a shudder down her spine. She kicked herself for being so self-absorbed.

‘I need a radio or a phone or something,’ she blurted to Wilkes. ‘I know why the Indonesians shot down our plane.’

Wilkes was taken aback. He had been expecting her to say that she liked the breadfruit. ‘How do you know the Indonesians shot it down?’

‘Because we found one of the plane’s engines in the jungle, blasted off the wing. There was an Indonesian missile still stuck in it.’

Jesus. Wilkes was genuinely surprised.

‘Are we at war with Indonesia?’ she asked nervously.

‘Not when we left East Timor,’ said Wilkes, frowning.

That’s something at least, thought Suryei. ‘I have to use your radio.’

‘We already know Indonesia shot the plane down, ’Wilkes said, attempting to calm her.

‘You know? You knew? How long have you known?’

‘About a day, maybe more.’