Double Back

‘Sure are,’ said Robbo.

‘Let’s keep that in mind,’ said Mac. ‘If we cross paths it’d be good to have a nosey-poke.’

As he shifted to leave, Robbo put a hand out. ‘Actually, Macca, we have a situation.’

‘Yeah?’ asked Mac.

‘We’ve detained a local,’ Robbo said, embarrassed. ‘Well, two actually.’

‘Shit, Robbo!’ barked Mac, too many pressures to juggle already.

‘Yeah – Didge was taking a pee and someone walked into him.’

‘Jesus wept!’ said Mac, adrenaline rising. ‘Where? Where’s Didge?’

‘Back there.’ Robbo gestured with his thumb.

Thirty metres into the jungle, Mac and Robbo came into a copse where the 63 Recon Troop stood around two boys in their early teens. Mac and Robbo edged into the circle and listened to Joh

‘Joh

‘Found this,’ said Toolie, handing Robbo one of the boy’s packs.

Robbo looked inside, pulled out a plastic bag, and threw it to Mac, who knew what it was before he even caught it. The clear plastic was filled with US greenbacks and the Cambodian stamp would translate as ‘Vacation Palace’.

Mac didn’t ask too many questions before the boy wearing the San Francisco 49ers T-shirt started crying.

‘Rodrigo says he never wanted to do it. He says his brother talked him into carrying these packs for the Koreans,’ said Joh

Ruffling Rodrigo’s hair, Mac switched his attention to Yoha

‘How’s your English, Yoha

‘Okay, mister,’ said the boy, scared but showing more front than his companion.

‘Where you come from today?’ asked Mac.

‘Atambua, last night,’ said the boy.

‘Who gave you the bag?’ asked Mac, bending down for his rucksack.

‘Korea,’ said Yoha

‘What does Korea say?’ said Mac, opening his rucksack and putting his hand inside.

‘He say, Take this to there,’ said Yoha

‘And what else?’ asked Mac, pointing at the radio handset that sat the bottom of Yoha

‘Call him, if problem in jungle,’ said the boy, eyes like saucers as Mac handed him a chocolate bar before giving one to Rodrigo, who cheered up with the gift.

‘What problem?’ asked Mac.

‘Soldier, thief, militia,’ said Yoha

‘And then?’ asked Mac.

‘Then, walk back and then a lot of carrier come along then,’ nodded Yoha

‘Who do you take the packs to?’ asked Mac.

Pointing, Yoha

‘You take it down there?’

‘Yes, mister,’ said Yoha

‘You know his name?’

‘No, mister.’

‘No?’

‘No, mister – a secret.’

‘I bet it is,’ muttered Mac, and handed another chocolate bar to each kid.

Looking down on the airfield from the OP, Mac slugged at water and tried to get his mind clear. He hated complications, disliked civilians involving themselves in the action.

‘What do you want to do with them?’ came Robbo’s voice from behind him.

‘Can’t let them go down to the base,’ said Mac, eyes on the admin block. ‘We’d be made and we still have two locations to cover.’

‘So?’ asked Robbo.

‘So I don’t want them with us either,’ admitted Mac. ‘We don’t have enough food, and we don’t have the numbers to run a security detail while doing the op.’

‘It’s better than the alternative,’ said Robbo after a pause.

‘The choice is between bad and worse,’ said Mac. ‘Bad might be one thing; worse might be six troopers and a spook getting torn to pieces by a door-gu

‘Well, the obvious is out of the question, Macca,’ said Robbo, uneasy, his foot kicking into the dust.

Jaw muscles clenching, Mac tried to stay calm. ‘The fact that we both know the obvious sort of resolves the question, doesn’t it?’

‘My boys wouldn’t let us do it, McQueen. And I’d side with them, so no – it doesn’t resolve the question.’

Mac nodded and looked down at the ground, tried to think of a way forward. ‘Okay, Robbo. The lesser evil is taking them along but we need a stop-loss.’

‘Fair enough,’ said Robbo. Mac knew he’d been a handy bullrider as a teenager and Robbo sometimes took his leave in Canada and the United States, taking eight-second rides for cash. There was a coiled quality to the man that wasn’t always relaxing to be around.

‘If they directly endanger our lives, then we vote on it,’ said Robbo. ‘There’s seven of us, so stop-loss is four votes in favour.’

‘And the proposer gets the gig,’ said Mac.

‘Of course,’ said Robbo.

It was 12.34 when they arrived at the escarpment overlooking the river gorge. The local boys walked in the middle of the troop, rope nooses around their throats which were co

‘This your footpad?’ Mac asked Yoha

‘Yes, mister,’ said the boy.

‘Got an idea,’ said Mac.

They stopped and Joh

Pulling the money bags from the boys’ packs, Mac smashed the radio on a tree and threw it in pieces on the ground.

‘Never liked that radio much anyhow,’ mumbled Beast.

After asking Beast for his knife, Mac cut a slice into the inside of his forearm and held the wound over the first empty pack, letting the blood run over it.

‘Robbo, can we get some more blood?’ asked Mac.

Nodding at Beast, the big redhead took his knife back and gave Mac a questioning look.

‘The other one,’ said Mac, ‘and some on the radio if you want.’

When there was enough blood to make it look good, Mac asked for Rodrigo’s shirt, took it and wrapped it around a small log, making sure the 49ers emblem was visible. Then he tied it up by the sleeves on the reverse side, hoping it would look like a boy floating in the river at the foot of the gorge.

After swinging the log back and forth until he had some momentum, Robbo let go of it and they watched as it arced through the air and plunged into the river twenty metres below. Within seconds, the T-shirt-covered log had submerged and disappeared, ruining the desired effect of a body floating in the river.

They watched and waited, but the log didn’t resurface.

‘Fucked that up good and proper,’ mumbled Robbo.

‘Have to think of something else,’ said Mac. ‘Just don’t want the Indonesian Army chasing us for their money.’

As they took turns on the water bottles, Robbo and Mac looked at the map and decided on the safest way into the Lombok facility.

Panting, Didge and Joh

‘More helos heading for that airfield,’ said Didge. ‘Four of them.’

‘No interest in us?’ asked Robbo. ‘Shooters hanging out the doors?’

‘Couldn’t see,’ said Didge. ‘Too far away and they were gone before we got the binos on them.’

‘Okay,’ said Robbo, nodding. ‘Let’s move.’

Mac pulled the rucksack over his shoulders onto his wet back, letting out the straps slightly. He was now carrying what he estimated was two hundred thousand US dollars through the Timor bush.

Didge led them out, and as he did, he looked over the escarpment. ‘Shit!’ he said. ‘That looks like the kid.’

Looking over, Mac saw the 49ers T-shirt floating with the other logs in the river eddy. It looked like a body and, with any luck, the people looking for their money might think that the boys had been whacked.