Mac could sense Bongo bristling beside him. Bongo Morales was a shoot-out guy and he’d be annoyed that Jim and Mac didn’t want to go with him.
‘Forget the weapons side of it,’ said Simon. ‘Think of the research, think of the applications!’
‘Applications?’ said Jim.
‘Can you imagine how fast we could evolve ourselves if we exploited the secrets of which races were the strongest, which ones had the genes to become super-beings?’ said Simon, his face flushed with excitement.
‘No offence, Simon,’ said Mac, ‘but why is it always dudes like you who have the super-race fantasies?’
The bullet sailed past his face and Mac ducked instinctively.
‘Don’t do it, Simon,’ Mac begged. ‘Just get on the phone and call it off, okay?’
‘Jesus,’ said Simon, rueful. ‘It was all going fine, we were going to launch this program and the UN were going to pay us for it.’
‘Clever guy,’ said Mac.
‘But you,’ said Simon, pointing at Mac, ‘the boy scout from Australia – you found that camp up in Memo, and you had no idea what you’d stumbled on, did you?’
‘Looked like a refugee camp that had got out of hand,’ shrugged Mac. ‘Turned into a death camp.’
‘Yeah, but they thought they knew,’ he said, indicating Jim and Tommy. ‘And suddenly, these idiots who were supposed to be monitoring Lombok are now sending an Aussie in there to take photos and have a look? I was thinking, “Holy shit! A bunch of morons from intel are going to unravel this whole thing?”’
The room buzzed as Haryono and Sudarto returned.
‘Base is secure – it’s just them,’ said the major-general.
‘So we’re clear for Boa?’ asked Simon.
‘Clear,’ said Haryono.
‘Just a pity you’re not getting the bonus, eh Ishy?’ said Bongo, an island of calm in an adrenaline-charged room. ‘Would have been nice – buy that private jet, get you to Surfers Paradise faster, yeah?’
Simon threw Jessica to the floor and moved at Bongo, threatening him with the gun. ‘Shut up, moron.’
‘Wait,’ said Haryono, advancing on Bongo. ‘Last thing I heard about you, Morales, you were flying a Mirage jet from Manila to Colombo.’
‘A 737, actually,’ said Bongo.
‘Still a cheeky little monkey, I see,’ said Haryono, pulling up a chair to face Bongo. ‘What you know about a bonus?’
‘He’s lying -’ said Simon, but stopping at Haryono’s raised hand.
‘I want to hear this from the legendary Bongo Morales – might be the last lie he ever tells,’ said Haryono, prompting laughter from the Kopassus officers.
‘Simple, Ishy,’ said Bongo. ‘Simon’s spent your bonus.’
Staring at Bongo, Haryono’s eyes went through several emotional seasons before arriving back at the indulgent uncle.
‘Spent it?’ said Haryono, very slow.
‘The whole forty mill,’ said Bongo, like ice ran in his veins.
Mac gulped at his dry throat, wondering where Bongo got the balls. Swapping a look with Jim, he saw the American beside himself with fear; if there was one thing guaranteed to incite unpredictable acts of violence, it was stealing money from a Javanese soldier.
‘He’s messing with us -’ Simon started again, but this time a burly Kopassus second lieutenant moved in closer from the American’s three o’clock, silencing him immediately.
‘Tell me,’ said Haryono, smiling at Bongo with big white teeth.
‘Got a laptop?’ asked Bongo.
‘I think so,’ said Haryono, looking at Amir Sudarto and getting a nod.
‘See that bag over there,’ nodded Bongo at the backpack Jim had hauled through the jungle. ‘There’s a sat phone in there, it lets you connect with the internet, lets you see the trust account at the Koryo.’
‘Trust account? How he know that?’ said Haryono, turning on Simon like a shark. ‘How he know it Koryo?!’
‘He’s lying – we have bigger things -’ stammered Simon, stopping now as he realised the second lieutenant had a gun trained on him.
Snapping a command in Bahasa Indonesia, Haryono looked Bongo in the eye as the bag was brought to him and an officer retrieved a laptop.
Opening the laptop and connecting the data cable to the sat phone, Bongo remained calm while Mac’s heart did backflips – Haryono was waiting to confirm that Bongo was making a fool of him, at which point it was likely he’d personally execute the Filipino.
‘The Koryo website,’ said Bongo, turning the laptop for Haryono. ‘Put in your numbers and let’s see.’
Tapping at the keyboard, Haryono looked up momentarily with an expression which suggested Bongo was already dead. Then the laptop buzzed, there was a change of light reflected on Haryono’s face, and his eyes refocused.
Jessica writhed on the floor, hands busy behind her back, looking Mac in the eye. Mac wanted to tell her to stay down, stay tied up, but he didn’t dare speak.
Suddenly, Haryono’s hands flew away from the computer as if it was a leper and he erupted in a blast of Bahasa Indonesia. The second lieutenant pushed his gun into Simon’s ear, and confiscated the American’s handgun as Haryono stood in front of him.
‘We agreed, Mr Simon,’ said Haryono, putting out his hand for a SIG Sauer 9mm. ‘We bring Operasi Boa to a successful conclusion, and there is a bonus of forty million dollars US.’
‘It’s a trick,’ said Simon, wide-eyed. ‘Bongo’s a con man, you know who he -’
‘Do not tell me what I know,’ said Haryono. ‘Tell me what I don’t know, like where is my forty million dollars?’
‘It’s there!’ screamed Simon, pointing at the laptop. ‘It was there this morning – I checked because the first bonus was going to be paid tomorrow.’
‘Look for yourself,’ gestured Haryono.
Taking the laptop from Bongo, Simon sat and scrolled up and down frenetically, his face dropping as his eyes confirmed Haryono’s anger.
‘I can’t… it’s not possible,’ he said, then looked at Bongo. ‘What did you do with it?’ he yelled, going for Bongo’s throat.
Slapping Simon to the floor, Bongo looked at Haryono and shrugged.
Waving the handgun, Haryono fixed Bongo with a homicidal stare. ‘So, Morales – what do you know about this problem?’
‘Not much, Ishy,’ said Bongo, smoother than honey pouring out of a jar. ‘Just got a call from Joao about an hour ago.’
‘Joao?’ said Haryono, his face darkening. ‘Yeah, he’d just been told about a very large, very recent deposit in the bank,’ said Bongo. ‘He thought I might see the funny side of it.’
‘Joao?!’ yelled Simon. ‘Who the fuck is Joao?!’
‘Silence!’ barked Amir Sudarto, training his gun on the American scientist.
The room fell quiet, except for the sounds of Simon whimpering on the carpet. Haryono stood over him and looked at his SIG. ‘It’s one thing for a man to get greedy, steal something for himself, for his family,’ said Haryono.
‘You can’t -’ said Simon.
‘But when a man steals from me and then adds the insult, then it is time for the hard hand, right?’ said Haryono, almost whispering.
‘He did it!’ cried Simon, pointing at Bongo.
‘How would Bongo get bank codes for the North Korean Department of Defense bank?’ asked Haryono, pointing the SIG at Simon. ‘Unless you gave them to him? Bongo pretends to be homosexual at the Lar, he drug passenger in first class and then search their bags. Bongo not the computer thief, Mr Simon. That you.’
‘It’s them,’ spluttered Simon, sweeping his arm at Mac, Tommy and Jim. ‘They’re spies, they set this up!’
‘Really?’ asked Haryono.
‘Yes – they traced Lee Wa Dae through the Koryo Bank.’
‘You know how I know you the liar?’ asked Haryono, his face impassive.
‘No, I -’
‘Look at where the money gone!’
‘To the Sentosa Pacific Bank in Singapore,’ said Simon, having seen the transfer. ‘It’s one of McQueen’s accounts!’