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There was no doubt in Niven’s mind that Joe Light was a hero. If not for him, perhaps the first indication of the invasion would have been the fishing boats swamping the northern Australian coastline.

‘This isn’t a triumph, Air Vice Marshal,’ said Sharpe. ‘It’s a bloody disaster.’

‘What’s on your mind, Phil?’ Niven asked, distracted.

‘What are you going to do with these survivors?’

‘Ever heard the phrase, “and they lived happily ever after’’?’

‘Don’t be naive. I’d be thinking very carefully if I were you about the wisdom of letting someone like Joe Light loose on the national media.’

‘I’m afraid he’s right, Spike.’ Blight had his arms folded — the body language said it all. ‘The details of the last three days — the reasons for the crash — have to be kept out of the public domain.’

‘Bill, I don’t think it would be possible to keep it quiet,’ said Niven, his respect for the Prime Minister on the verge of dissolving.

The CDF knew he wouldn’t win the political argument against the Prime Minister. He wondered how much Sharpe had been in the PM’s ear. If these men were thinking cover-up, survivors presented a problem. What were they going to do with them? And then the penny dropped. Jesus Christ, we’ve just lost more men to keep the poor bastards alive!

‘Sir, you’re not suggesting —’

Blight read his mind, horrified. ‘Jesus, man!’

‘Well then, what?’ asked Niven bluntly. They’d all been through a lot over the past few days and the polite formalities had been dispensed with.

‘Frankly, I don’t know, but the national interest has to be considered here.’

‘We’re not the bad guys,’ said Sharpe. ‘We just need some kind of contingency plan.’ Niven glanced at Sharpe who was behind the PM as he drew a finger across his throat, smiling. It took a supreme effort of will for Niven to ignore him.

‘Spike, what do you think the Australian people will demand if the full horror of this gets out?’ Blight asked. ‘Over four hundred people dead, a Qantas plane shot down, plans for invasion…’

Niven realised the PM’s fear. ‘They’d want to even the score,’ he said.

Blight nodded slowly. ‘Revenge.’

Niven surprised himself that he hadn’t considered what was so obvious. The very thing they’d just managed to avert might happen anyway. And what if Australia and Indonesia did slug it out? Aside from the destruction wreaked by the conflict itself, would that then make Australia a target for Islamic terrorists from all over the world? ‘Okay, I see your point, Bill.’ Blight was right, yet, in Niven’s view, he was also morally wrong. What about the truth? There was no perfect solution. There were too many possibilities and variables, no matter how things were handled, and all of them had potentially dire consequences attached. Perhaps secrecy was the right way to go. Sharpe grinned behind the PM’s back. Niven just wished he didn’t have to agree with him.

The fate of Flight 007 on Sakhalin Island flashed into his brain again. The realities of the incident had been buried somehow — that was obvious to him now. But why? There was supposedly a well-known outspoken anti-Communist congressman on the flight. At the time, both sides were seeking détente. Had he been silenced to make peace a reality?

If the aircraft hadn’t crashed into the sea as reported but had actually made it to the military base on Sakhalin itself, around 270 passengers and crew would have been spirited away. If that was the case, what had happened to them? Where were they now? If one passenger had turned up alive, questions would have been asked about what happened to all the rest. The fact that very little wreckage and only four bodies were found made that theory quite plausible. Images of frightened passengers swam in his mind — men, women and children being herded off to some unknown fate, their lives and dreams terminated because of some foreign policy manoeuvring.

We don’t have anything like that kind of problem here, Niven reminded himself — just two people. ‘If you don’t mind, Bill, I’d like to handle it,’ Niven said. If he took over, Niven reasoned, then at least it’d be done right. Two fine Australian soldiers had paid the ultimate price to protect the survivors. He didn’t want that sacrifice to have been for nothing.

‘Thanks, Spike,’ said Blight. ‘I was hoping you would.’

Sharpe placed a hand on Niven’s shoulder and said quietly in his ear, ‘Me too, Spike. I can think of no one better to screw over if things get fucked up.’