But lately the bombings had started anew, along with what appeared to be organised raids. UN forces would secure an area and then leave. Soon after, the bandits would march back in and make horrific examples of the locals who ‘cooperated’ with the foreigners. Rather than pulling back, it soon became apparent that, if anything, the UN command would have to step up its operations. Of course, the Indonesian military denied publicly that they were assisting the militia from West Timor, but the Australian DIO thought differently. Factions within the Indonesian military appeared to want to cause trouble. East Timor could not be allowed to go quietly into nationhood. It had set an example for other disgruntled peoples within the sprawling archipelago to follow.

The Black Hawk landed at the airport and a couple of Land Rovers took Wilkes and his section back into Dili. The men all had showers and some food at the mess tent. Ratpacks were okay but nowhere near as good as tucker cooked on a proper stove. They then headed off to the briefing. The men laid bets on what their next mission would be. No one would pocket the money.

They entered the demountable and felt the tension in the air. There were a number of grim-faced officers present who they’d seen about Dili but never met, and a few types in civilian clobber who had to be spooks — CIA or possibly ASIS. No one had to tell the SAS section that what they were about to hear was highly classified, because just about everything the SAS did was black. Even the fact that they were in East Timor was supposed to be a secret, albeit one of the ADF’s worst kept. The lights flicked off and a satellite photograph of an aircraft crash site illuminated a wall.

Wilkes’s mouth dropped open. The briefing left all the men stunned, and that was not easily done. They had no mission, but they were told the situation might change. They had to familiarise themselves with the crash site of the Qantas plane and the terrain surrounding the area so that if they were called in, they would know it intimately. When the spooks and officers had cleared out, they were given the briefing tent in which to spread out WACs of the area and hard copies of the satellite pass. They discussed their equipment needs for a two-day infiltration, made lists of ammunition, communications, first aid, food and other bits and pieces and discussed the situation. A Qantas 747 shot down by Indonesia with more than 400 people aboard… all dead? Wilkes whistled silently.

Central Sulawesi, 0230 Zulu, Friday, 1 May

Suryei and Joe knew they would find a stream or a creek, flowing water at least, in the bottom of the steep valley. They edged their way down to it, weak from lack of food. Their desire for a drink was powerful, a catalyst for mistakes. Joe stretched out for a crack in the rock face before he had secured his foothold. He reached for thin air and fell the last twenty metres upside down, clawing the air like a beetle on its back.

Suryei saw Joe fall and the emotions cascaded in on her; anger at his lack of care, desperation that she might lose him, fear for his life, and then anxiety about being left on her own. The feelings rushed around her system like a series of electric shocks, each fighting for ascendancy. She was afraid to look around the black basalt crag that obscured her view of the final moments of his fall. She did not want to see Joe’s broken body lying at the base of the cliff, not after what they’d both been through and survived. She found herself crying as she made her way across and down to the spot where she thought Joe would be lying.

The impact with mother earth felt like hitting concrete and the force of it crushed the air from his lungs. And then the concrete dissolved and became water. Deep water. He’d had a moment to think he was dead before he became aware that he wasn’t. Joe had landed in a pool. Far below the surface, the water was cool, even cold. Joe was aware of the light overhead as he floated towards it. The coolness became warmth, and then heat, a wafer biscuit of cold on cool, cool on warm and warm on hot. Joe burst to the surface with a searing pain in his lungs. He needed to breathe.

As Suryei came around the edge of the rock, a wide, black pool of water that had been hidden from her view opened out before her. The surface steamed like a large cauldron. Joe lay in the middle of it, floating face down. Suryei carefully negotiated the sharp rocks at the edge of the pool, then jumped into the black water.