When they first tossed the girl into the cell they had recorded her pitiful weeping cries on a device and had then set up a series of concealed speakers along the dark passages. He had the recording on a continuous loop that would sporadically play a second or two of the girl’s distress.

  If that doesn’t lead him to me, thought Jago, then nothing will.

  “Come and get her,” he said. “Come and get her.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  They had no idea what to expect when they pulled open the door, but with little option but to proceed and with time probably running out, not to mention the lethal lightning bursts, Putu took a deep breath, stole himself for what might be awaiting them behind it—a hail of bullets, knife-wielding killers, anything—and yanked open the door.

  And nothing happened. No bullets, no screams of rage. Nothing, the only sound the squeaky complaint of the door’s rusted hinges.

  He exhaled slowly, composed himself, and crossed the threshold into the darkness, closely followed by Ketut and Hiram Kane, when suddenly the dark interior was illuminated from behind and both Ketut and Putu swivelled around, alarm etched into their faces, only to be greeted with the blinding light of a cell phone torch, behind which was Kane’s familiar wry grin.

  “Sorry,” he said, shrugging, “I thought it might help.”

  “OMS, Hiram.”

  “OMS? Don’t you mean OMG?” questioned Kane.

  No. OMS… Oh my Shiva.”

  With the tension somehow eased Putu offered his own weak grin. He then turned and padded off down the now dimly lit corridor.

  *

  Twenty feet below them and a hundred feet ahead, Ayu frantically clawed at the old brickwork of the pit, but it would not yield. The water was up to her chest now, and she tried desperately to pry loose a few bricks she could stand on to keep her head above the rising water. She wasn’t yet afraid to the point of screaming… not quite… but the pressing fear of never seeing her family again, never again eating her mother’s soto ayam, chicken soup, and never again being squashed in a bear hug by her favourite uncle Putu, clenched her heart and inspired her into feverish activity.

  Slowly… painfully slowly… a small part of one brick came loose and fell, Ayu catching it before it dropped into the murky depths of the pit water. She dexterously placed the chunk of brick between the ball and toes of her left foot and carefully lowered it through the water to the ground. A second later, she was perching on top of it, an inch taller, and despite it all Ayu grinned at her minor success.

  Putu would have been proud, she knew, and it spurred her on. Ignoring the pain of her scratched up fingertips and what was now the bone-chilling cold of the watery cell, she worked, the thought of her lost and lonely Babaya toy waiting for her somewhere giving her the extra courage and motivation she needed to stay alive.

  *

  It was eerily quiet. Too quiet, Kane thought. They hadn’t known what to expect, but it hadn’t been this. An ambush? Are we headed into a trap? But Kane knew even if that were the case it didn’t matter and they would proceed anyway, because the thought of poor little Ayu alone somewhere in the darkness in the hands of these disgusting fucking criminals meant they could never turn back. Never!

  Putu stopped abruptly, Ketut almost slamming into him from behind. They’d reached the top of a short flight of steps, hand carved into the bedrock beneath the temple. But Putu said nothing, and stood still, his head cocked to the side as if he had heard something. Ketut and Kane hadn’t, though, and strained to listen.

  Putu turned, his eyes wild with sadness and rage and a hundred other emotions.

  “It is her. It is Ayu,” he said, his lip quivering. “She is crying. It is…” but his voice trailed off as he turned once more and flew down the steps and was gone.

  Ketut and Kane didn’t wait a second before barreling down the steps after him, and Ketut knew calling out to his brother was futile so instead focused all his attention on catching him up, Kane attempting the same while his phone’s torch flashed wildly around the murky meandering tunnel.

  *

  Ayu’s ferocious efforts had yielded precisely four bricks so far, one of which she was cleverly using to hammer at those stubborn other bricks refusing to budge. It was progress, but it was too slow.

  The water still streamed into the pit and inched slowly towards her neckline, and it was all she could do to lift the heavy bricks out of the water and continue pounding at the others. She tried climbing, but it was so dark and slimy and she was so weak and cold that she kept slipping back. She could not even see the ceiling above, the cell an all-consuming blackness. She closed her eyes for a moment, steeling herself for the coming efforts, and launched blindly back into the task of smashing against the brick work before her, certain that her uncle Putu would be there for her soon, and equally certain that, if he wasn’t, she would never feel the warm bright sun of a Nyuh Kuning morning again.

  *

  Putu sprinted on, running virtually blind into the vast network of tunnels, the heart-wrenching echoes of Ayu’s cries ringing in his ears and spurring him perilously on into unknown perils. Then suddenly the tunnel grew lighter as several paraffin lamps cast an eerie glow along the rocky walls. He slowed his pace, sensing danger, and finally came to a halt. Panting and sweating profusely in the close humidity of the tunnel, Putu strained his ears but heard nothing other than his own ragged breaths.

  “AAHHH,” he bellowed, consumed now with a ferocious rage that reverberated along the uncaring walls as he slammed his fists against them.

  Thirty yards away a young girl’s ears pricked up.

  A moment later Ketut and Kane jogged along the passageway and came to a stop by Putu, who stood resting with his back against the cool stone.

  “Well?” asked Ketut, doubtful. “Did you hear anything else?”

  “I… I did,” he answered, but his head dropped. “I think I did.”

  “What do you mean, think?”

  “I… I think it was a recording… played through speakers.”

  “Speakers? You mean, to trick us?”

  “Yes.” Putu closed his eyes. “I think so.”

  “But that means she is here, right? She must be—”

  “She could be anywhere,” barked Putu. “She could be dead!”

  At that moment the dazzling beam of powerful spotlights assaulted them from both directions and caused them to cover their faces, accompanied by the thunderous roar of half a dozen stomping boots.

  It was Jago’s men, and they were armed.

  Putu had led them into a perfect trap.

  Chapter Eighteen

  “I am so glad you could make it, Putu. We have been expecting you.” Jago smiled warmly. “And I see you have brought friends to the party, too.”

  The men herded Putu, Ketut and Kane at gunpoint along the corridor, around a few bends and back up a few steps, and lined them up on chairs in front of Jago, the guns levelled at their heads.

  He grinned as he addressed them, his lean yet handsome face lit from below by a lamp on his desk. His eyes shone with something like contempt, despite the smile, but Kane thought he detected a trace of smugness, as if it had all been too easy for him to lure and catch his prey. And Kane knew it was true.

  We rushed into it, he thought, though he knew they’d had little choice, and had made themselves easy targets, especially on someone else’s territory.

  Jago glared at them all for a few seconds before he fixed his glare on Putu, his eyes narrowing to venomous slits. “No more niceties,” he said. “Where are my fucking goods?”

  Putu hung his head and knew it was over. He had been stupid. Again, letting his heart rule his head and leading them into trouble when he should have known better. That is why he was in this mess to begin with. He had let his greed and emotions lead him into working with criminals like Jago, and worse, taking it one step further and betraying his boss. Although The Rooster was a bad man with a vicious temperament, he had treated Putu fairly. The bridge to salvage that relationship was well and truly burned.

  Now his heart had ruled his head once more, and rather than stay patient and make a plan, they had run headlong into the trap.

  Putu no longer cared about what happened to him. But he had let down his little brother, Ketut, and his friend, Hiram. Most of all, he had let down little Ayu.

  Where is she? Is she hurt?

  He lifted his head and looked directly at Jago.

  “Where is my niece?”

  “All in good time, my friend. All in—”

  “My niece,” demanded Putu. “Where is she? I will not tell you anything until I know she is safe.”

  Jago pursed his lips a little, as if pondering something for a moment. Then he nodded. He glanced at one of his henchmen standing idly by a wall. On Jago’s signal, the man reached over to a chord attached to a large curtain that until then the three newcomers hadn’t noticed. After a second’s pause, the grinning thug pulled the chord and the curtain fell to the ground.

  What they saw shocked all three into a wide-eyed silence.

  Prowling back and forth in a large cage was an enormous tiger, its striped fur dazzling under the harsh glow of a spotlight trained on it from above. It stalked to the front of the cage, clearly agitated, and let out a deep and monstrous roar that echoed around the room.

  Kane thought that if it wasn’t so frightening it would have been a magnificent sight.

  “My dear Putu,” said Jago, snapping the big man’s attention back onto him. “This is Pecalang. Or for your benefit,” he said in English and pointing at Kane, “my security guard. She is my absolute pride and joy, and I love this spectacular animal more than I have ever loved any human, except maybe my daughter. However, for very specific reasons I have been mean to her. Believe me when I say she is hungry. Very hungry. But do not worry, Putu, it will soon be dinner time.” The maniacal glint in Jago’s eye left no one in any doubt as to the implied meaning. “Now, you asked about your niece… Ayu? Well, I can assure you she is safe and sound. For now, anyway. But…” Jago glanced at the tiger, then fixed his dark eyes back on Putu. “But if you do not tell me what I want to know…”

  The madman did not need to explain further.

  Putu leapt from his chair in a wild attempt to grab Jago and rip his head from his shoulders, but in his rage he forgot he was strapped to the chair and crashed to the unforgiving stone floor, his head slamming against rock with a sickening crunch.

  He lay there, dazed, his chest rising and falling in ragged breaths.

  “Yes,” said Jago. “That is what I thought. Hmm. Okay, I will give you one hour to imagine how all this might pan out, one hour to save your niece’s life. Then I will bring you back out here and sit you in that same chair, and you will tell me everything. If you do, and I am satisfied with your answer, then I will let the little girl go unharmed. However, if you do not, I will make sure you have a ringside seat at feeding time.”

  Jago nodded to a couple of his henchmen. “Take him away.”

  “Wait!” shouted Ketut. “Stop! Tell him. Tell him what he wants to know.”

  The guards dragged Ketut forward.

  “Tell, them, damn you!”

  But Putu remained silent as they hauled him from that room towards his cell.

  Kane and Ketut looked at each other, fear blazing in their eyes.

  Jago then looked at Ketut and Kane. “I do not know who you two are, and I do not care. But you should choose your friends more carefully. Unlike Putu you appear to be sensible men. But sensible men make bad choices too. And you chose a bad friend.”

  “He is not my friend!” spat Ketut, instantly regretting his outburst.

  Jago stared at him for a long moment.

  “Not a friend? A brother?”

  Ketut averted his eyes.

  “Ah yes, the dutiful baby brother. Well, what a surprising and welcome addition you are to our gathering. Take him away,” he said, motioning to a guard. “And him,” he added, waving a dismissive hand at Kane. “And keep them separate.”

  Kane felt helpless as three guards dragged Ketut off in one direction while others ushered him away in the other, back through the door they had entered from. Next he was unceremoniously shoved into a dark room, and he clenched his fists as the sound of the slamming door echoed off the walls, followed by the clicking shut of a hefty lock.

  After taking a moment to compose himself, Kane heard the thundering of the rain not far above. The walls of the cell were damp and several trickles of water streamed down the brickwork from above. He felt around for some kind of tool or weapon, but found nothing in the darkness, and although he knew it was futile he grabbed the handle of the door and wasted thirty seconds trying to yank it off its hinges.

  Kane took a step back and dropped to his haunches, trying hard to visualise mentally where exactly he was beneath the temple. In truth he had no idea, as in the mad rush down the dark tunnels they had become disorientated and he had no clue as to which direction he was even facing.

  The only thing he knew for certain was that they had him locked in a prison cell, somewhere underground.

  And it would probably become his tomb.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Ayu was in a terrible state. The water was up to her chin, and though she had pried free a good pile of rubble and was now perching a foot higher than before she was still nowhere near safety as the water continued to rise. There was little more she could do, and with all hope finally fading, she screamed.

  And the only other person in, near, or beneath Besakih Temple that heard her desperate cry for help was Hiram Kane.

  *

  Kane’s ears pricked up. There was no doubting what he had just heard… the muffled pitch of a girl’s scream. Ayu!

  He listened hard, trying to determine from which direction the scream emanated. There. He swivelled and edged to the back of the cell, pressing his ear against the damp wall. Yes, it was definitely her, and he called her name and banged on the wall with his fists, oblivious to the fact that where he pounded was three feet below the water level in Ayu’s cell, thus rendering him mute.

  For all he was worth he called out her name, frantically slamming his fists and palms against the bricks, but with no response.

  He paused, catching his breath. Then suddenly the ground shook as the forgotten volcano reminded everybody it was still on the verge of erupting. Kane squatted, getting his balance, and a few seconds later the shaking subsided.

  Suddenly the water in his cell began to pool on the floor as the flow from above increased. He traced his hands along the walls, searching by touch for the greater flow. Got it! He reached up and found a gap between the crudely laid brickwork he’d been banging on and the sheer rock ceiling, evidently a natural fissure in the bedrock, which he confirmed by shining his phone torch at it.

  Judging by the storm that hammered them before they entered the temple Kane knew the torrential downpour wasn’t going to ease anytime soon, so… if the water level in his cell was rising, then… then it must be rising in Ayu’s cell too!

  Kane sprang into action, pulling with everything he had at the top row of bricks. As he pulled, he called, but Ayu’s cries had ceased and he now feared the worst. Kane grappled the bricks like a man possessed until he’d removed half a dozen from the top two rows of the wall and could see through the gap.

  Snagging his torch again from his pocket he stabbed on the light.

  What he saw made his heart stop.

  Chapter Twenty

  Putu was torn. He knew now he should just tell Jago what he wanted to hear, tell him where the Chinese gang’s depot was located. But he also knew that now they had located Jago’s base, their lives were forfeit and there was no chance they would let them leave there alive.

  He shook his head in dismayed fury, straining at his bonds. But despite his physical strength from hundreds and hundreds of hours in the gym, Putu was helpless. All he could do was tell them the truth when summoned, and hope they would let Ayu leave unharmed. It was all he could cling to, but Putu was beginning to fear the worst.

  How has it come to this? How have I fucked up so badly? His own life was worthless, and he hadn’t truly cared about himself for years anyway. But he had acted with good intentions when he started working with Jago, and even when he betrayed him he had done it for the benefit of his family and friends in Nyuh Kuning. But now they would never even know.

  His own life and the lives of two family members and a good friend now hung in the balance, and it was all his fault. “There must be something I can do,” he said in a whisper. There has to be something.

  The ground rumbled with a booming roar, and he swayed, unsteady, as a giant chunk of rock fell from the ceiling, narrowly missing his head and landing with a thud at his feet. He knew if it had hit him directly on his skull he would probably be dead. But it didn’t. And maybe it was the stroke of luck he needed.

  Putu grabbed up the hefty lump of stone, and with a couple of deep breaths, began slamming it against the cell door. Time after time he smashed that stone into the steel door, and time and again nothing happened. But Putu had no better plan, and he kept on crashing into that heavy, unyielding door as if in some kind of penance, some way to regain just a shred of dignity before they killed him.

 

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