But rather than fill her with more dread, it inspired her to work faster, ignoring the pain in her fingers and her aching knees, which now had sharp bits of gravel and brick embedded into her soft flesh, but still she pulled and wiggled as her fingers and knees bled.

  Her uncle Putu would not stop, she knew that. So neither would she, thoughts of the hug he would soon give her spurring her on.

  But little did Ayu know that it was precisely because of her beloved uncle she was even there in the first place.

  Chapter Thirteen

  For twenty minutes Hiram had discreetly searched the famous old temple for any hint of the gang’s base, pausing occasionally to admire–and his admiration was genuine–the fantastic craftsmanship of the architecture and the atmospheric setting of Bali’s most important Hindu temple. As yet, though, he had found precisely nothing.

  Besakih, the mother Temple. As Kane thought of its name, his mind drifted to Ayu and her family. The kelian was distraught over what had happened, and though Hiram had only met her a couple of times, he could not begin to imagine the heartache and suffering Ayu’s mother was experiencing.

  Kane had found himself in some difficult, often dangerous situations before, though he had somehow come through them all more or less unscathed: he could boast plenty of impressive scars for his troubles. But so far he was a man who seemed to have been blessed with several second chances.

  Yet this situation felt different somehow, more edgy. Sinister. A young girl’s life was apparently on the line, and today alone he’d already been involved in a shooting, a kidnapping and a near lethal motorbike chase, not to mention the death-defying race across the island. And acting as an ominous backdrop to the unfolding drama, the magnificent yet menacing Mount Agung was threatening to destroy them all.

  Kane glanced towards the beautiful mountain, Bali’s highest at over 3,000 metres, and acknowledged its power as it brooded, silhouetted against the dusky sky, and sensed that as she always did, mother nature would play a significant role in the unravelling drama of the day.

  Just fifty yards behind Hiram, Ketut too was scanning the scene in search of any sign of criminal activity. He was Hindu and had visited the Mother Temple on many occasions, yet couldn’t think of anywhere such a thing could be hidden.

  Ketut scanned the open courtyards of the temple, open spaces below the towering stepped pyramid that ascended to the Meru, or summit, of the central tower, always keeping Hiram at the periphery of his vision. It truly was a beautiful place of worship for Hindus, but Ketut could have never imagined his next visit to Besakih would be to rescue his kidnapped niece.

  He stopped to chat with a couple of folks he guessed might be local, but the problem was almost everyone there at that time were either foreign tourists or other Indonesians visiting from Java or beyond.

  But just then he spotted a man carrying what looked like supplies for a food cart, suggesting he worked and lived nearby. Angling his stride towards the vendor he called out to him, trying to catch him by surprise.

  “Hello,” he said, but the man didn’t seem to hear. He tried again, louder this time. “Hello! Excuse me?”

  But still the man walked on, and if anything he’d quickened his stride. Now on full alert Ketut had a quick glance around to see if anyone was watching, and jogged after the man, grabbing him by the arm.

  Anger flashed in the vendor’s eyes, but then he suddenly seemed afraid as he tried to shrug off Ketut’s hand. Ketut clutched his wrist even tighter.

  “Leave me alone. Go away.”

  The man’s strange mixed reaction demonstrated to Ketut he knew who he was, and he glared at him, reluctantly allowing Kane to drift out of sight.

  “You know who I am, yes?” Ketut demanded.

  “No… no, I do not. Leave me alone.”

  “I do not believe you. Where is my niece?”

  “I do… I do not know what you are taking about.”

  “Where is Ayu? Where is The Rooster?”

  Ketut was a peaceful man and hated violence of any kind, but the thought of Ayu strengthened his resolve. Grabbing the man by the scruff of his neck Ketut forced him backwards, slamming him into the volcanic black stone of a nearby shrine.

  “Where is she? Where are they keeping her? I am warning you… tell me now… or I will hand you over to my brother.”

  On hearing those last words the man’s eyes shot wide, obviously aware of Putu’s formidable reputation. The vendor closed his eyes now, all resistance gone, but after a few seconds he glanced over his left shoulder, inclining his head towards the western back corner of the temple.

  “What is there?” demanded Ketut, his heart racing. “Is she there?”

  The man just nodded, defeated, and Ketut released his grip and watched as he slumped back on his heels against the stones, his face impassive.

  Then he raced off after Hiram.

  As Ketut sprinted away, the vendor stood up and dusted himself down. He reached into his trouser pocket, pulled out a cell phone, and hit speed dial.

  “Yes?” said the voice on the other end of the line.

  The vendor smiled. “They are on their way.”

  Ketut caught up to Kane and hustled him back towards the main gate and over to Putu. They arrived beneath the tree and, breathless, he told him what had happened.

  “We go now,” Putu growled, and stepped out from behind the frangipani.

  “Wait,” said Kane. “Let’s think about it a moment. They know you will come for them. That’s the exact reason they’ve taken Ayu, isn’t it? To lure you here? If we just walk right in they will be ready for us.”

  Putu’s jowls clenched and his bulging muscles flexed. But he knew Kane was right. He nodded. “What do you suggest?”

  “You said yourself, even if you give yourself over, give them what they want, it won’t be enough. Jago is a dangerous man, that much is obvious. Anyone crazy enough to send thugs to fire shots at a peaceful ceremony and kidnap a child in broad daylight must be capable of almost anything.”

  Putu clenched his teeth and nodded.

  “We need to be patient, brother,” added Ketut. “Just a little. It is almost dark. Let us wait an hour until it is fully night and use that darkness as an ally. Then we burst in, grab Ayu, and get the hell out of there.”

  Reluctantly, Putu agreed it was best to wait. He relaxed his broad shoulders, and with a determined glance at Ketut and Hiram, he nodded.

  “You are right. We might only get one chance at this, and we can not fail.”

  Just at that moment a hefty tremor shook the ground, throwing the men off balance. It didn’t last long, but it was yet another sign that Agung was warning them all and that time was precious.

  They each threw a furtive glance at the hulking mass of the volcano just a few miles north, and as they shared a nervy glance with each other, thunder erupted with a deafening roar as a deluge of biblical proportions assaulted them from the heavens.

  *

  Less than one-hundred metres away Ayu screamed as her entire cell shook to its foundations, and a moment later deafening thunder reverberated around the enclosed space. She covered her ears against the hellish din, but as she did, she looked down and froze.

  The water that had been trickling into the cell from above was now forming into a pool, and rising. In just a few seconds it had covered her toes, and a minute later it was above her ankles.

  Ayu was trapped.

  And if Putu did not come to help her soon, little Ayu would drown.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Putu, Ketut and Kane huddled tight beneath the welcome shelter of the frangipani tree and watched as scores of tourists and locals streamed out of Besakih’s main gates, darting either for their cars or to one of the nearby restaurants dotting the main road, anywhere to find cover from the sudden horrendous downpour.

  Once the flow of bodies ceased the three of them edged along the temple’s boundary wall towards the gatehouse, and finding it abandoned by the ticket seller, the old man wisely calling it a day, they slipped inside and sprinted for cover.

  It seemed as if they were alone in the complex, and they paused to catch their breath beneath the thatched roof of an ornate shrine.

  Sunset was officially an hour away, but due to the storm and the black clouds that scudded like time-lapse photography overhead, it was already as dark as night.

  Putu looked at his brother and recognised the same fierce determination he felt. He also saw rage there, and knew it was justified. His own stupidity had caused this mess, and even if they found Ayu and return her home safely, he doubted Ketut would ever forgive him.

  Ketut sensed what Putu was thinking, saw it in his eyes.

  “Not now, brother,” he said. “We have more important things to deal with than my anger for you.”

  Putu nodded. He looked out from their shelter into the wild darkness and knew the conditions would only worsen. He then looked back at Ketut and Kane and saw they were thinking the same thing.

  Kane locked eyes with his friend and nodded, then extended his hand. Putu gripped it, no words required. Thank you.

  Ketut also nodded, then stepped aside.

  Putu glanced at them each once more, then turned, and said into the maelstrom, “We are coming Ayu. We are coming.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Jago sat comfortably at his desk in a large underground chamber at the rear of Besakih Temple.

  At just thirty-five years old Jago had risen swiftly through the ranks of the Macan, and before his thirtieth birthday had become its boss. No one was really sure what had happened to the previous head man, who had disappeared without a trace just a week after he had confirmed Jago his number two. But there had been rumours. One story suggested the two men had fallen out, following which Jago sliced off the boss’s head and kept it in a freezer, his body being fed to the dragons on Komodo Island in small, indistinguishable lumps. It was likely just a myth, but with Jago you never knew, and you never asked questions about The Rooster, not if you liked your head where it was. It was that fearsome, almost mythical reputation that helped him run a smooth operation, and he’d never once been concerned about a mutiny.

  At least, not until Putu had crossed him.

  Jago enjoyed the storms, and although the rumbling ground had cost him thousands of dollars in destroyed products, he knew before the day was out he would have all the information he needed to reclaim what was stolen from him a couple of months previous; $3,000,000’ worth of black market goods.

  He smiled as he thought of that clown Putu, the low-caste, overgrown village idiot who had betrayed him. Putu believed he’d been delivering small amounts of product between buyers around the island, but in reality it had been hundreds of thousands of dollars’ worth of precious tiger pelts and internal organs, not to mention their bones, and Jago’s sidelines of heroin and cocaine, though he kept that knowledge to himself and two trusted lieutenants.

  But then his smile faded. The shipment that Putu had diverted into the hands of the filthy Chinese was the biggest he had ever ordered. The profit he would make was equal to three years of decent trading, and after successfully moving it onto his legitimate purchasers in China, Taiwan and Macau, Jago was planning to ease back on his operation and relax into early semi-retirement on nearby Nusa Penida, a beautiful smaller island off Bali’s east coast, and enjoy the hefty spoils of his difficult, often dangerous work.

  He had not wanted to kidnap the girl. Jago had a daughter of his own, and the thought of losing her clenched at his guts. But in truth, that sickening feeling was the very reason he had done what he had. He knew Putu was a brave man, if not a little dumb, and knew if there was anything that would convince him to help return his product it would be kidnapping his niece. It had been a tough decision for Jago. But he had not become the boss of Bali’s most notorious black market ring by being soft.

  And Jago knew one more thing about today. If it failed, and Putu did not play ball, then he still needed to send a message to his own gang members and to all his rivals and business partners. The message? Nobody crossed The Rooster. Nobody!

  Thus, if by the end of the day he was unsatisfied with proceedings, the little girl would die.

  However, Jago had just received word from one of his men that Putu and his brother, and some other random orangasing—foreigner—were there at the temple, and that could only mean one thing…

  Things were about to get interesting.

  *

  Ayu scratched and clawed at the pit walls, desperately trying to haul herself out of the fast rising water. It was up to her waist now, and though not afraid of water, Ayu could not swim.

  Despite her tentative years Ayu was bright, and she now knew very well that if she did not get out of there soon she would never see her family again.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Putu led the way, Ketut and Kane right on his heels as he hustled through the complex, skirting close to the base of the main central pyramid as they angled towards the rear of the vast compound.

  They didn’t know what they’d find when they got there. Balinese Hindu temples were usually built to a standard design, but Besakih was no standard temple, literally and figuratively the mother of all Hindu places of worship in Bali. No bother, Putu mused as they surged on… we will deal with that when we get there.

  Kane’s adrenalin pumped, his heart hammering in his chest. He wasn’t scared, but felt a heightened sense of things, and despite the torrential rain he was on sensory overload. Even through the deluge the ever-present scent of a thousand incense sticks remained clear and potent, perhaps the most significant sense indicator he was in Bali. The sharp angled silhouettes of the temple’s distinct architecture punctuated the roiling charcoal sky, and the occasional burst of sheet lightning gave the entire place an ethereal, almost surreal quality that only enhanced the tension.

  “For Ayu,” he kept murmuring to himself, aware he was rushing headlong into untold dangers. “For Ayu.”

  Despite the vast physical footprint of the enormous temple it was only a few minutes before they had reached the rear boundary wall. And Putu’s heart sank.

  There was nothing there, no obvious sign of a storehouse or location of any kind from where Jago could run his operations, and even if there was it would be difficult to find. Even though the area was partially illuminated by a series of dim lamps, they did little to help in the awful conditions.

  Putu turned to face Kane and Ketut, a mix of concern and frustration in his eyes.

  Ketut took a deep breath, unsure what to say or do. Every second counted, they knew, and Ayu was waiting.

  “Wait!” Kane’s harsh whisper cut through the darkness, startling the brothers as he edged between them to an overhanging ledge of the temple. Putu and Ketut shared a confused glance, but as they too edged closer they soon saw what Hiram had seen. In the shadowy recess of the rear temple wall, far from where any tourists or vendors would ever see, was a door.

  Moving closer still they saw the narrow door was slightly ajar, and though no light emanated from within they felt a cooler draught seeping through the crack.

  Right at that moment a deafening crack! sounded, reverberating around the stones of the temple structure, the three men diving for cover, certain it was a gunshot. But it was actually a bolt of lightning striking the temple summit, the ensuing shock waves taking out the mains electricity and rendering the already useless lamps redundant.

  Recovering, the men looked at each other once more, eyes wider now, perhaps even a touch sheepish, and though none of them spoke they were all thinking the same thing; this was it. It was time to storm the compound.

  Putu turned his back to the door and eyeballed Ketut and Kane.

  “It is not too late to turn around and leave. In fact, I urge you to do it. Hiram, this is not your fight… and Ketut… brother… I…”

  “Stop!” interjected Ketut. “There is no time for this now. We go. Together.”

  “Yes,” added Kane. “Together.”

  *

  Stretching far and deep beneath the massive temple complex of Besakih lies a little-known cave system that many decades previous was converted into a World War II prison camp for allied soldiers captured by the occupying Japanese forces. After the war it had been widely forgotten, or more likely banished from memory, and according to official government records it didn’t even exist and remained abandoned, a horrible blight on Bali’s otherwise peaceful history.

  But for several years the gang and black market enterprise now run by ′The Rooster’ had occupied the cavernous space and it was from there he ran his illegal and highly profitable import and export business. As far as Jago knew, there had been not one shred of suspicion surrounding their own occupation of the subterranean complex, and besides, he knew better than anyone that everything, and everyone, had a price. Even the warm-hearted, peaceful Balinese people weren’t against a little head turning if the price was right.

  And what choice did they have, anyway? Jago’s violent reputation was more than warranted, and as long as the locals continued to keep their distance and their mouths shut and went about their business as usual, as they’d learned to do, they’d have no trouble from Jago and his thugs.

  Jago was certain Putu would not come passively, tail between his legs. He wasn’t made that way, which is why Jago had hired him in the first place. He liked tough, aggressive guys on his team. And if the shoe was on the other foot, and Jago was in Putu’s situation, he wouldn’t come quietly either. Jago assumed he would initially try to sneak in, then once inside cause as much chaos as possible and make off with the girl.

  Well, Jago thought with a grin, come and get her.

  He had ordered his men to abandon their guard posts at the subterranean complex’s temple door, and to retreat into the depths and wait. Jago was banking on Putu’s anger to get the better of him, and by making it easier to enter, confuse him too. He planned to use those weaknesses to lure him deeper into the tunnels, where his unavoidable ambush was waiting.