No Man's Land

by Roland Fishman

  He was most likely drinking an “Arak Attack,” a potent mixture of the local liquor, which was fifty percent alcohol, with orange and coconut juice. He drained the coconut, banged it down on the table and burped. The other players laughed and clapped.

  A young Balinese waitress in a pink and yellow dress carried a tray of empty bottles and dirty glasses through the entrance.

  Erina called out to her, “You seen Jacko?”

  “No,” she replied. “You like cold drink?”

  Erina looked at Carter, who shook his head. “We’ll wait, thanks,” she said.

  The backpackers outside erupted in another round of wild cheering, drowning out the iconic opening bars of Elton John’s “Benny and the Jets.”

  Carter looked around the indoor section of the cafe. Jacko called this place his second office. It was fairly basic: a dozen tables covered by red and white plastic tablecloths and bare wooden walls.

  Carter was about to sit down at one of the tables when he heard a familiar voice from the rear of the cafe and glanced behind him.

  A big bear of a man with shoulder-length sun-bleached hair filled the back door. He wore a short-sleeved batik cotton shirt, black board shorts and green thongs. At first glance he looked like a typical Australian tourist, interested primarily in drinking beer and having a good time, but he had a laptop bag slung over one shoulder, and to Carter he looked tired and drawn, and older than his forty-five years. Clearly the events of the last twenty-four hours had affected him. Still, when he saw Carter and Erina, his face lit up with a broad, welcoming grin.

  Carter walked toward him and put out his hand.

  “Don’t give me this ‘shake your hand’ bullshit,” Jacko said. “Give us a hug, you old bastard.”

  He dropped his bag beside the table, wrapped his arms around Carter and squeezed tight.

  Carter breathed in the familiar combination of aftershave, deodorant and clove cigarettes, relieved to see his friend.

  Jacko released his grip, turned toward Erina and put out his arms. “I’m so sorry, love, I really am. We’ll get ’em back. Promise.”

  He threw his arms around her. Jacko was one of the few people Erina let hug her. They held each other tight.

  After a moment or two she patted him on the shoulder, gently pulled away from him and asked, “So what’s the latest at the hospital?”

  “It looks like everyone’s going to pull through, thank Christ. But I’m buggered if I know where this’ll leave us. The order’s been well and truly fucked over.”

  Carter looked at Erina, who dropped her gaze. They both sat down.

  Jacko settled in a seat opposite them. “Sorry I’m late, but I just got off the blower with Djoran. He’s expecting you.”

  “I’ll bet he is,” Erina said.

  “What do you mean by that?” Jacko asked.

  “How well do you know this guy?”

  “Well enough,” Jacko said. “He’s very tight with Kemala.”

  “That’s not what I asked.”

  “Djoran’s a top bloke. He’s been undercover, training as one of Samudra’s mujaheddin for the last five months. In my book, that takes a huge ticker.”

  “What’s a Sufi doing getting involved in a fight against terrorism? They’re supposed to spend their time transcending the physical world and getting high on God.”

  “I’m buggered if I know what motivates him. But Kemala vouches for him one hundred percent.”

  “That’s my point.”

  “What?”

  “I’ve been concerned about her relationship with Thomas ever since they became close,” Erina continued. “I’m starting to wonder whether Kemala is the saint everyone thinks she is.”

  “Have you ever brought it up with him?” Carter asked, knowing Thomas rarely discussed his personal affairs with anyone, including his daughter.

  “I tried a few times,” she said, “but he wouldn’t go there. Look, I doubt they’re having a full-on sexual relationship, because of her beliefs, but he’s besotted with her. It’s ridiculous – he’s like a teenager. Though he’d never admit it.”

  “And?” Carter asked, though he suspected he knew where this was going.

  “She’s Samudra’s sister. The whole family is corrupt in one way or another and they hate the order for killing Arung. Just because she’s a woman doesn’t mean she’s above scrutiny.”

  “And just because she’s a Muslim and belongs to the Sungkar family doesn’t make her a terrorist,” Carter said.

  “Don’t forget,” Jacko said, “she’s the one who alerted Thomas to Samudra’s intentions.”

  “That could’ve all been part of a plan to infiltrate the order.”

  “That’s a real stretch,” Jacko said.

  Erina shrugged. “Think about it. Kemala disappeared four days before the attacks on the order began.”

  “You’re being paranoid,” Jacko said. “Your father trusts her completely.”

  “And maybe his blind trust helped get us into the position we’re in,” Erina said. “They’ve been one step ahead of us with each of these attacks. We can’t assume anything.”

  She leaned back in her chair.

  Carter glanced at Jacko. “What do you reckon?” he asked.

  “I reckon she’s the best thing that’s happened to Thomas for a long while. She just has to walk into a room to bring a smile to his face. And they’ve known each other on and off for ten years.”

  “But they’ve only been close for less than a year,” Erina said, “since Samudra took over the clan. Samudra and Kemala could’ve hatched something together.”

  “You sure you’re not being overprotective or even a tad jealous?” Jacko asked.

  She tied her hair up into a loose bun. “Some women will do anything to protect their family.”

  “Maybe,” Carter said. “But Thomas does nothing without thinking it through. I reckon Jacko’s right. If Thomas trusts her, so can we.”

  “What you’re both overlooking is that most men, including my father, are hopeless when it comes to relationships.”

  Carter shifted in his seat. “And you’re good at them?”

  “At least I don’t get taken advantage of.”

  “You never hang around long enough to let that happen.”

  She gave him a withering look. “We both know you don’t stay alive in this game for very long if you expect the best of everyone.”

  “Nor if you always expect the worst.”

  She sat up straighter. “These attacks on the order are game-changers. We can’t overlook any possibilities. It’s no time to be oversensitive.”

  “And it’s no time to shut down.”

  “What—”

  “Hang on, you two,” Jacko interrupted. “We’re getting off track. The situation is what it is. We have to deal with what’s in front of us.”

  He stood up. “And if you’d let me get a word in, I was about say Djoran told me where Thomas and Wayan are being held on the island.”

  He started walking to the kitchen.

  “What are you doing?’ Erina asked.

  “I’ve been running around like a headless chook all day and I’m starved. I’m going to organize something to eat and drink before we get down to business. Then I’ll show you what I’ve got.”

  He walked a few more steps and turned back to Erina.

  “He also informed me that Kemala is on the island. And here’s the kicker. She’s being held prisoner under armed guard on order from Samudra.”

  Carter looked at Erina, whose expression revealed nothing. He knew this would have taken her by surprise, even if she didn’t buy it or wasn’t prepared to admit it.

  6

  Carter watched Jacko take a long pull of beer from his bottle of Victoria Bitter, push it to one side and reach for his bag. Jacko set up his laptop on the table so Carter and Erina could both see and fired it up. A topographical map of Batak Island appeared on screen.

  Despite his casual manner, Jacko had an uncan
ny ability to organize an operation to the last detail with a minimum of drama.

  “We’ve been checking out the island and the clan’s activity for the last month,” Jacko said. “Since Samudra took over, he’s turned it into an unofficial Islamic state governed by sharia law. I saw a video on his website of a young woman being stoned for adultery.”

  Erina poured sparkling mineral water into a glass and said, “I’ve seen the site too – there’s some spooky shit going down on that island.”

  Outside, the backpackers let out yet another round of cheers.

  Jacko’s forefinger ran down the middle of the map.

  “The island is divided in two by this mountain range. On the southern side is a village of peasant farmers and fishermen. The Sungkar clan control the mosques and clerics, which gives them huge influence over the people on the island, all strict Muslims. Though there are pockets of dissent.”

  He tapped another key. An aerial photograph appeared, showing what looked like a military training complex with a large white mosque in the center.

  “This is Samudra’s compound on the northern side,” Jacko said. “It’s a full-blown training camp for his mujaheddin.”

  His forefinger circled a group of buildings and bungalows. “That’s the accommodation and admin block, where a high-tech command center has been set up. And that’s the airstrip. They own a light plane and a helicopter, which means they can fly in and out without bothering too much about airport security.”

  He pointed to a fenced-off enclosure housing two cell-like buildings. “This is where Djoran reckons Thomas and Wayan are being held.”

  “Can we land on the island?” Carter asked.

  “No way, Jose. Security’s tighter than a fish’s arsehole. The pilot I’ve lined up will drop you at an atoll five clicks away. Then you’ll take a jet ski to the island. Budget fifty minutes for the one-way ocean trip. If you travel at low throttle and keep engine noise to a minimum, you’ll sound like a regular fishing boat and won’t set off any alarms.”

  Jacko took a sip of beer and tapped another key. The map of Batak Island reappeared. He indicated a rocky cove on the village side of the island. “You land here. Then I suggest you make your way to this point.”

  He touched a clearing at the edge of the mountains that cut the island in two. “There’s a steep cliff you’ll need to climb to reach the compound’s perimeter. It’ll shield you from any electronic surveillance.”

  Carter and Erina nodded, following his logic.

  “Once you reach the top, you launch your assault on the compound. Djoran has downloaded a set of up-to-date security codes, which I’ll give you. He reckons once you’re within a hundred yards of the compound, you can wirelessly hack into their system and shut down security.”

  Erina cocked her head to the side and looked at Jacko directly.

  “I know what you’re thinking, Erina,” Jacko said, “but trusting Djoran is the only option we have at this point. It’s one of those times where we have to show some faith in our fellow man.”

  “How do we find him?” Carter asked before Erina had a chance to respond.

  “He assures me he’ll find you. Take the satphone in case there’s a dire emergency and you need me to bail you out. But he said to avoid making any calls on the island unless absolutely necessary. Their scanning devices pick up phone signals. He’s figured out a way of making the occasional call to me safely, but you’d need to hook up with him first and follow his procedures to the letter.”

  “What about the chopper?” Erina asked.

  “The only one I could get comes with a pilot.”

  “What’s he like?”

  “A real Pommy wanker. Wouldn’t trust him as far as I could kick him, even with only one good leg. But he knows the area and has plenty of experience. He’ll get you there and back.”

  “How do you know?” Erina asked.

  A big grin spread across Jacko’s face. “Because I only paid him a deposit.”

  7

  The waitress placed a serving of chicken satay sticks on the table. The aromatic blend of hot oil, chilli and roasted peanuts reminded Carter of just how much he enjoyed Indonesian food and how hungry he was.

  He took a stick, bit off a mouthful of hot, spicy chicken and savored it for a moment before glancing at Erina. She took a napkin to hold one end of the stick and used a fork to pull the meat off one piece at a time.

  She was still pissed off with him, he could tell, though he didn’t know why. But clearing the air with Erina would have to wait a little longer. There were still questions to be answered. First up, he wanted to know if Jacko had any idea about what might’ve happened to the head of Trident’s daughter. It still bothered him that the organization had potentially been compromised.

  He turned to Jacko. “What’ve you found out about Callaghan’s daughter?”

  Jacko swallowed a mouthful of chicken.

  “Apparently she’s pretty wild, and this isn’t the first time she’s gone missing in action. Initially, I figured she’d just run off with some guy she’d met, but with the shit that’s gone down in the last couple of days I wouldn’t be surprised if the clan has nabbed her.”

  He took a meditative pull on his beer. “And if they have her, then Callaghan is their puppet. That’s a serious worry, considering what the clan might be planning for Sydney.”

  “He could’ve clued them in on where the city is most vulnerable and how to avoid security,” Erina said.

  “Exactly what I was thinking,” Jacko replied. “I’ll make some enquiries, and give you a full run-down when you get back from the island.”

  Carter nodded, knowing he could rely on Jacko to get all the necessary information and make any arrangements.

  The waitress returned carrying a large plate of fried prawns and another of golden brown lumpia – spring rolls filled with minced pork and vegetables – with a bowl of sweet chilli sauce.

  Carter picked up one of the rolls, took a bite and said, “Are there any other operatives on hand we can call on?”

  “As a matter of fact,” Jacko said, “there are four guys from Detachment 88 staying at Candi Dasa. I’ve got a solid relationship with their immediate superior. I reckon I could line something up at a pinch. They’re pretty fair operators, but they don’t have anything like your skills or experience.”

  Detachment 88 was the Indonesian counterterrorist organization, so named to honor the eighty-eight Australians killed in the 2002 Bali bombing. They were funded and trained by American and Australian government agencies. Since 2003, they’d successfully hunted down, arrested and killed many members of Jemaah Islamiah and other suspected terrorist organizations.

  The group attacked with sledgehammer-like efficiency, but lacked the subtlety and patience required for an operation like this. More importantly, there was every chance Samudra, with his wealth and influence, had corrupted sections of the organization.

  Carter liked to mull over all possibilities with an open mind. Often useful ideas emerged in the process. Bringing in some outside help had its merits. It meant they’d have backup and there’d be someone to help Jacko find out what Alex and the clan were up to in Sydney.

  Erina rolled her eyes. “Detachment 88 – you really want to get those cowboys involved?” There was an edge to her voice. “You’re saying six of us should go to the island and hook up with Djoran?”

  Carter shrugged, deliberately casual, knowing it would infuriate her. He wanted to provoke her into an outburst, get her to admit what was bugging her.

  “I could take a couple of guys and you could stay behind and work with Jacko,” he said. “Start checking out what’s going down in Sydney. And if there’s trouble on the island, you’d be ready to bail us out.”

  “Please tell me you’re joking.”

  “Just brainstorming.”

  “There’s no way I’m staying behind and you know it.”

  “Look—”

  “What makes you think you can come in
like this and start running the show?”

  “We need to work as a team and consider our options,” he said.

  “It’s a bit late to call yourself a team player. Let alone think you can call the shots. It’s not your father whose life is at stake.”

  He pushed his plate to one side and wiped the stickiness off his fingers with a paper napkin. “You need to take the personal emotion out of this and get your head together.”

  “Don’t try to psychoanalyze me. Look after your own game.”

  “We’re in this together, Erina, but I can’t work with you when you’re like this.”

  “Like what?”

  “You’ve been pissed off ever since we left Woodforde’s property. Now tell me what’s got you so angry or god help me I’ll team up with Detachment 88 and leave you here with Jacko.”

  “I’d leave you behind if I didn’t need you,” she said.

  “Well, you do. So get used to it.”

  “Once this is over you can fuck off and go surfing for all I care.”

  “Suits me.”

  She stood up. “You’re unbelievable.”

  Carter turned to Jacko, who shook a clove cigarette out of its soft packet. “Hey, don’t look at me,” he said. “I’m just organizing the logistics.”

  Erina looked directly at Carter. “I’m not discussing this with you anymore.”

  “Erina, sit down, please.”

  She turned to Jacko. “Sorry, big guy, just need to clear my head.”

  She picked up her daypack from the floor and headed out through the front of the restaurant and down to the beach.

  8

  Jacko inhaled on his cigarette, causing the tobacco and cloves to flare and crackle. He looked at Carter through the cloud of sweet-smelling smoke. “You handled that well, champ.”

  Carter moved his chair away from the table. “No one ever accused me of being smart around women.”

  “You’re not wrong there,” Jacko said. “But she’s no ordinary woman.”

  “Tell me about it.”

  Carter took a long drink of water and looked through the open shopfront toward the beach. The backpackers had taken a break from their drinking game. Further down, Erina was walking across the hard sand toward the ocean with her hands in her pockets.