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Australia was sending in a MAG to protect the survivors and get them out. Nothing odd there — they were probably Australian citizens. But if this was such an important mission, as it undoubtedly was, why not send in a Special Recovery Squadron? Because sending in a full thirty-man SRS would require three times the logistics and it would be unlikely they’d manage that with any stealth. Wilkes had to admit to himself again that he didn’t know much at all. He also had to admit that he was intrigued, but no less nervous. The MAG was going in armed to the teeth and ready to wreak serious havoc. They knew they were outnumbered almost two to one by the Indon forces, but they did have surprise on their side.

Being SAS, the men were permitted to take in weapons of their own personal choice. The US-made M4 was popular, a development of the 5.65 mm M16 A2 carbine, with 14.5 inch barrel and collapsible stock. The M4 was ideal for engaging multiple targets. It had low recoil, making it easier to keep the gun pointing in the right direction, and it was also very light, feeling more like a toy. Yet at three hundred metres and in the hands of a skilled shooter, the M4 was a devastating weapon. Excellent ergonomics also made it simple and reliable in the field, and hard to fuck up in a high-stress situation.

The M203 was a separate weapon slung under the M4. It hurled a grenade, which looked like a miniature artillery shell, up to four hundred metres. It was a useful weapon in open territory but Wilkes thought it was of questionable value in a jungle environment, where branches and other foliage could easily deflect the grenade’s trajectory with possibly disastrous results. Also, once fired, the grenade required a minimum distance before it would arm itself and it was unlikely that the jungle would provide the open air necessary. It packed a powerful punch, though, and, who knows, might come in handy anyway. Most of the men favoured the HE 463 round. It was smokeless and trackless and so didn’t give away the firer’s position. Troopers with 203s had at least a dozen of these rounds.

Wilkes preferred the 5.56 mm Minimi light machine gun. He’d had the barrel shortened, and a silencer fitted. The weapon still made a healthy racket but the silencer eliminated muzzle flash, reducing the chance of giving his position away in a firefight. PTE Mac Robson also carried the Minimi, and with the same improvements. The Minimi could fire up to sixteen rounds per second from an underslung box containing two hundred rounds, so it was the ideal weapon when covering fire was needed. And if the weapon ran out of ammo, the M4 magazine slotted right in. If the Minimi did have an Achilles heel, it was the ammo box. It was not as easy to replace in the heat of battle as an M4’s magazine. Wilkes’s insurance policy covering him against being caught between magazines was a butt-ugly, sawn-off pump-action Remington loaded with heavy #4 buckshot. Extra cartridges were held on the outside of the weapon with clips. It looked like it had been run up in the garage, probably because it was, but it comforted Wilkes enormously to have the weapon along for the ride. Wilkes carried the Minimi and had the shotgun strapped to the outside of his pack, so that it could be readily reached and deployed.

Robson snatched at a fly that had been caught in the dead air of the cockpit. He opened his hand in front of PTE Gibson’s face. Empty. He’d missed.

‘Wanker,’ said Gibson, shouting over the helo’s massive whirling blades and punching Robson solidly in the arm.

Wilkes smiled. At thirty, Gibbo was the grandfather of the section. A former secondary school maths teacher at a tough western Sydney state school, Gibbo had attended a presentation given by the Australian Defence Forces during Vocation Week. He’d sat through the presentation open-mouthed at the opportunities in the forces presented by the army lieutenant. Barely halfway through the one-hour presentation, Gibbo had been convinced. The lecture broke for lunch and Gibbo went AWOL from the school, taking a bus to the city to enlist. The love affair with the regular army hadn’t lasted long, though. The life of a regular army trooper was dull between exercises. He wanted to be training full-time. That’s when Special Forces caught his eye. Gibbo failed at his first attempt, the rigorous and difficult selection processes for the SAS taking him by surprise. But he’d succeeded at his second.

Gibson laid his M4 on the deck briefly and adjusted the pistol on his hip. It was his backup weapon — the same one they all carried — the H&K USP, the 9 mm self-loading pistol commonly in use in the Australian army.