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‘No. Masri wasn’t exactly coherent after the car accident. I believe he was on his way here to the embassy for protection. In the car were bags packed with essentials that included passports. The general also had his child with him who, I might add, is the only person besides the general to survive the attack.’

‘How bad is he?’ asked Greenway.

‘Bad. The neurologist is not prepared to give a prognosis,’ said Bowman. ‘He has a depressed fracture of the skull. They’re operating on him as we speak. Apparently he’s pretty fit, so you never know.’

‘Assuming he does come through okay, is there any idea when he’ll be up to questioning?’ continued the Defence Minister.

‘That’s the sixty-four thousand dollar question. None, unfortunately, Hugh. And if he does come around, there are no guarantees what he’ll remember.’

Niven’s mind raced. ‘What about witnesses? Is there a guard on him?’

‘Yes, the same four-man detail out the front when Masri rearranged the fence. But we’ve got no one to relieve them. We couldn’t keep Masri at the embassy. Injuries were too serious. He’s in the top expat hospital under an assumed name. Fortunately, his facial injuries are pretty bad, and so no one has recognised him, not even the local Indonesian embassy guards who were first on the scene.’

‘What about Masri’s troops?’ Niven wasn’t at all happy with the lack of security.

‘They’re preoccupied at the moment. If you haven’t seen CNN this morning, turn it on. I can’t tell you more than the news services are reporting. Obviously it has something to do with the reasons behind Masri’s flight to our embassy, which is linked to the attack on QF-1 — none of which, I might add, is part of any news report that I’ve heard this morning. I’d be more worried about Suluang’s men, frankly.’

‘Sorry to jump back, Roger, but what’s the Indonesian media saying about the crash?’ asked Greenway.

‘Masri’s disappearance is something they’re running around trying to unearth. We’ve been lucky. Only the local guards witnessed the crash and we got Masri and his son inside and cleaned up the mess before the police showed up. The media are reporting the crash, the bullet-riddled car and the death of Masri’s wife. They’re saying it’s connected somehow with the standoff between Masri and Suluang’s troops, and there are all kinds of bizarre theories being offered. It’s all going to come out soon, though. We’ve got maybe a day — two at the most.’

‘I’ll get you Special Forces protection for Masri within two hours.’ Niven calculated the time it would take to get some men across from East Timor. ‘Can you handle the paperwork at your end?’

The ambassador nodded.

‘So how are you keeping those Indonesian guards quiet, Roger?’ asked Greenway.

‘They are… er… heavily sedated… at the embassy.’ Bowman was obviously distressed.

‘You did the right thing, Rog,’ said the PM, realising the ambassador had little choice. Sharpe ran his fingers through his hair. ‘Christ Almighty.’

The Prime Minister quickly briefed the ambassador on the intelligence delivered by the Americans and the connection was terminated. Both parties had things to get on with.

Someone whistled quietly.

Greenway’s forehead glistened with sweat.

No one spoke. No one knew what to say.

Griffin broke the silence. ‘The problem is, we still don’t know enough. So let’s concentrate on what we do know,’ he said. ‘We know that a passenger on the plane, one Cee Squared, broke into General Suluang’s computer and saw something or took something or both. Shortly after that the plane was blown out of the sky. From that we can deduce Suluang, Masri and an unknown number of other high-ranking officers do, in fact, have something very big they want to hide.’

‘How does the situation in Jakarta between Masri and Suluang’s troops fit in to all this?’ asked Greenway.

Griffin’s face was blank. ‘No idea.’

‘We also now know that, despite protests to the contrary, the Indonesian military have located the plane,’ added Niven, his cold making his speech a little difficult to understand, ‘and that they’re doing their damnedest to make sure there are no survivors. No doubt the soldiers will also be searching for the aircraft’s black boxes.’

‘You still think it’s possible that the Indonesian government is ignorant of all this?’ asked Blight, fingertips at his temples.

Griffin felt like he was standing at the water’s edge, the ebb and tow of the surf undermining his footing so that he kept having to dig his toes into the sand to remain standing. ‘I know it’s hard to believe, Bill but, yes, we should continue to give them the benefit of the doubt.’

Blight wasn’t sure. The contact he’d had with the Indonesian ambassador seemed to bear up the Director-General’s view, but then, what if Batuta had been cut off by Jakarta and his ignorance was part of some deception? Jesus, so many uncertainties…