Ayu screamed, then screamed again as the two chasing thugs ran into the chamber from the tunnel behind them, blocking the exit.

  Recovering his own composure from the sudden uproar, Jago couldn’t help but smile. “Well,” he said, “you and your… your family and friends… are nothing if not resilient, I will give you that.” Jago removed his jacket and hung it on the chair at his desk. Then from a drawer he pulled out a powerful looking handgun and, checking that the safety was off, walked over to face Putu.

  But without taking his eyes off the big man, he raised his gun instead into Ayu’s face. The smile faded to a sneer.

  “But now I am tired of playing. You have precisely thirty seconds to tell me what I need to know. My beautiful tiger is getting hungry and I am sure she will appreciate that you have provided her dinner.”

  As if on cue, the caged beast growled, its roar vibrating throughout the cavernous chamber.

  And then in a flash Jago grabbed Ayu’s arm, causing her to drop her toy tiger again, and a second later held her tight against the bars of the cage, the beast snarling in frustration at the meal just beyond its reach.

  Ayu screamed again and Putu lurched forward, but Kane and Ketut reacted fast, each man grabbing a shoulder.

  “Not yet,” Kane hissed. “Wait.”

  Putu shook them off, neither man a match for his superior strength. But he remained still, his enormous chest rising and falling with barely controlled breath.

  “Twenty seconds,” barked Jago, a sinister look in his eyes.

  Putu breathed deep, his rage growing. But still he said nothing.

  Ketut and Kane looked on in alarm, the tension in the room palpable. Even the guards behind them stepped to the side to get a better view of the unfolding drama, a move not missed by Ketut, who slowly moved his own left arm behind his back.

  Putu’s teeth were clamped shut, grinding, breath blasting from his nose in animalistic snorts. If he told Jago what he wanted, he would shoot them anyway. It was a gamble, but he had to wait.

  “Ten seconds,” said Jago, smiling now, taunting, almost daring Putu to keep his secret.

  Ketut’s slim fingers grasped the pistol handle protruding from his waist band, and he slid the gun around to his side. Safety off. Ready!

  Ayu started to struggle, terror in her eyes, but Jago was strong and held her in place with ease. The tiger prowled, snarling, and as it pushed against the bars just inches from Ayu she felt the beast’s hot breath on her as it snarled in anger, saliva dripping from her gaping mouth, huge teeth shining under the harsh spotlight.

  “Five seconds, Putu.”

  Nothing.

  “Four.”

  Kane twitched. “Tell him, my friend. Just tell him.”

  “Three.”

  “For fuck’s sake tell him. Think of Ayu.”

  No movement, nothing. All the guards looked on, frozen by the tense tableau playing out before them. Will he actually let it happen?

  Kane glared at Ketut, imploring him to do or say something, anything to stop this insanity. But Ketut’s face remained impassive, focusing on the madman ten yards away.

  Jago grabbed Ayu’s slender arm and thrust it towards the bars and the tiger snapped at it, her rage evident in the wild roar of frustration as she clawed against the bars, Ayu’s hand snatched back a nanosecond before she lost it.

  Putu flinched, almost ready to shout out the Chinese location but still gambling on a moment of inspiration from somewhere. If he told Jago, they’d be dead anyway.

  “Two.”

  But Putu didn’t have to wait long. As Jago opened his mouth to complete the macabre countdown Ketut fired the pistol.

  And all hell broke loose.

  Jago let go of Ayu and dove behind his desk, yet Ayu could not move, locked still in terror.

  The guard nearest Jago dropped to the floor, the bullet shattering his femur, his gun clattering to the ground.

  Kane was next to react, turning on the guard to his right and striking him with a vicious chop to the windpipe and following up with a closed-fist tiger punch to the jaw. The man dropped as if dead.

  Stunned, the second guard fired off a wild burst from his semi-automatic, and Kane dove for cover, as did Ketut and the only other guard in the room, and amidst all the chaos, nobody noticed that the tiger’s cage door had swung open, its lock destroyed by a stray bullet, and the magnificent beast now stood just three feet from Ayu and ready to pounce.

  Chapter Twenty Four

  The tiger’s roar was so loud and filled with such inherent wild rage that as everyone in the chamber froze, time seemed to stand still.

  The roar ceased until the only sound in the chamber was its fading echo. And then silence.

  Jago huddled beneath his desk with his head in his arms, wondering how it had all gone so wrong so quickly. The guard with the destroyed upper leg lie still, too injured to move, his gun too far to reach, his agony silenced by fear.

  Kane poked his head up from behind the drawers and stared, gaping, his eyes wide at the horrific scene before him, unsure what to do but sure that if he charged the tiger Ayu would die.

  Ketut, too, had frozen, torn between racing for Ayu and shooting the animal. He had never before fired or even held a gun until five minutes ago, and the bullet that struck the guard was a lucky shot. The gun felt heavy, the steel hot in his hand, the object so alien to him he feared that if he fired again he would hit Ayu by mistake, and that unimaginable thought kept him statuesque.

  Only Putu was in reach of Ayu. He too was stunned, but as the tiger’s roar faded to silence he sensed a chance at redemption. He glanced at Ayu, her eyes screwed shut and her tiny body immobile, and next his eyes darted to the massive beast, who returned the glare, unblinking.

  Silence reigned in that dim cave and all was still, the only light coming from the harsh spotlight. Even the tiger had paused, momentarily confused by the sudden stillness and deathly quiet. But it was only momentary, and after leaning back on its hind legs, it sprang towards Ayu like a flash of golden orange sun.

  Putu reacted in an instant, his own animal instincts launching him towards the tiger and crashing into it midair with a thudding collision, the two big animals wrapped in a deadly embrace as they hit the floor, the wild growls emanating from deep within the tiger’s chest vibrating through Putu’s own.

  They rolled and kicked and for a moment it looked as if Putu would wriggle free of the tiger’s mighty clutches, but arching her powerful back and thrusting on massive hind legs, she jumped clear and landed astride Putu, her monster front paws pinning him to the floor, her razor claws tearing the flesh on his chest and biceps.

  Ayu’s eyes were now fixed wide open, unable to look away at the horrifying scene just yards away. Her beloved uncle was trapped beneath the magnificent monster, and she was about to scream but Kane had edged close and clamped his hand over her mouth.

  Again time stood still, and Kane held Ayu tight against his legs. He glanced at Ketut, who held the pistol level at the tiger. But he dare not shoot, could not pull the trigger for fear now of hitting his brother.

  Putu turned his head and glanced at Hiram. Kane wasn’t sure, but he almost thought he saw Putu smile. And his heart sank as he realised its meaning: Putu was saying goodbye.

  Next Putu looked at Ayu, whose wide eyes implored him to fight the tiger and scoop her up and take her away from there. A single tear slipped down his cheek, and in that tear was several lifetimes of remorse and regret.

  Finally he looked at his younger brother, Ketut, and never had he felt more proud of him than he did in that moment. He looked deep into Ketut’s eyes, sensing the dilemma there; shoot or not shoot. For Putu it was easy. If Ketut shot, the tiger might leave him and go after Ketut or Ayu.

  He would not let that happen.

  No. This was his chance to make amends, at last do something his brother could be proud of him for. Putu locked eyes with Ketut and very deliberately shook his head and mouthed a single word: No.

  And as the enormous tiger clamped her massive jaws down on Putu’s shoulder, he shouted his last word before all his world faded forever to black; “RRUUNNNNNN.”

  *

  Kane grabbed the toy tiger and led them sprinting back along the tunnel as fast as possible, fully expecting the guards to follow. They raced on, Kane lighting the way with a snagged paraffin lamp.

  The guards, however, did not follow. After killing Putu, the beast had circled around, inadvertently blocking the only exit from the chamber and trapping them all inside.

  First she picked off the thug with the broken femur, an easy target. As his screams faded, she quickly dispatched the other two guards, one mercifully unconscious, the other hauled down and killed as a tiger normally kills; a deadly bite to the neck.

  That only left The Rooster, Jago. The leader of the Macan frantically searched his desk for another gun, eyes wide with terror as his beloved Pecalang stalked ominously towards him. He knew if she killed him he would deserve it for the way he treated her. And not only her; Jago had just last week slaughtered her two cubs, their skinned bodies left to rot on a table in his makeshift abattoir. No, he definitely deserved to die, he knew that. But he would not die today.

  Remembering a sawn-off shotgun he kept strapped beneath his desk he grabbed it, knowing it was loaded. He clicked off the safety, and sat there, relief washing over him that he had remembered the gun just in time. He hated to have to kill his beloved. But it was a very serious case of kill or be killed, and Pecalang was closing in.

  She fixed her eyes on his, remembering how he had starved her, remembering her babies and their pitiful cries as he’d taken them from her weeks after they birth. Remembering their deaths.

  Jago allowed her to get within six feet, afraid to fire too early in case he missed. “Goodbye, my beautiful Pecalang,” he said.

  And then he pulled the trigger.

  *

  The monsoon rain had finally stopped, and the wide black sky was now a vast blanket of stars. They paused once they were clear of the temple’s main gates and into the now deserted road, and only then did they look back, certain they were not being followed. Ayu struggled against Ketut’s firm grip, trying in vain to go back after her uncle.

  Ketut was not sure if she had seen the horror. He hoped for all his life she had not.

  But little Ayu had seen it, had watched on from behind Hiram’s strong hand as her uncle Putu had sacrificed himself to save them. She had seen it, and the six-year-old girl would never, ever forget it.

  “Your uncle Putu is a hero, Ayu,” said Hiram, handing her the toy. “He stayed so we could escape.”

  Ketut translated, and Ayu stopped struggling and clung to Babaya. She stared into Ketut’s eyes. She didn’t speak, and kept looking as two fat tears escaped, one down each cheek. She knew it was true. Her big uncle Putu was a hero.

  Ketut looked at Kane. “Let us go,” he said, and the three of them raced to the motorbikes and sped away from The Mother Temple of Besakih with their hearts heavier than they could have ever imagined.

  Epilogue

  Two Weeks Later

  Hiram Kane kicked off his flip-flops, grabbed his beer and gazed out at the beautiful vista before him.

  Now on the little-known Thai island of Koh Yao Noi, nestled in the Andaman Sea between the tourist meccas of Phuket and Krabi, it was an island he knew well and had wanted to come back to once more before it too was ruined by the influx of inconsiderate backpackers and mega-resorts that cared little for the local economy and environment and only about profit. And as it always was, the virtually inaccessible and impossibly stunning rain-forest fringed Had Yao Beach was deserted.

  That was, except for Hiram and his guest, the on-off love of his life, beautiful Alexandria Ridley.

  Kane was exhausted, and after the recent events in Bali he needed the break, though he hadn’t gone far; just far enough to put those recent horrors behind him. And there was no human on the planet he would rather do that with than Ridley. He would relish the time they spent together, especially as he was soon headed to Japan for a speaking engagement at the annual Adventure Tourism Expo, at which he’d been asked to present a series of seminars.

  Almost twenty years previous, Hiram had given up his studies as an archaeologist and instead had founded an adventure tourism company, of which he was its world renowned leader and well respected guide. It was a reputation he well deserved, but Kane had to admit that at least some of that honour was inherited due to his famous family heritage.

  Hiram was in fact great-grandson to Patrick Kane, assistant in chief to legendary American explorer and rediscoverer of Machu Picchu, Hiram Bingham.

  Patrick Kane and Bingham had found world fame in 1911 after stumbling upon the ancient Inca ruins in Peru while searching for the infamous lost city of the Incas, Vilcabamba. A love of exploration and adventure was certainly in Kane’s genetic make up, and the upcoming public speaking events were the only part of the ‘job’ he didn’t love. Still, he felt it was important to share his knowledge and stories in an effort to encourage more youngsters to get out and see the world, and in doing so, he hoped, do his bit to break down the ever-growing cultural barriers.

  Before hitting the beach with Alexandria, Kane had spent the morning catching up on the news, specifically the news from Bali. Unfortunately for the native population living within thirty miles of Mount Agung, the waking giant had finally erupted, fifty-three years since its last devastating eruption, and had caused terrible and long-lasting damage to the villages on its slopes, not to mention the agriculture industry, the majority of which was the now mostly destroyed rice terraces. Though the massive ash cloud was slowly dispersing, the fallout from it, along with several ravaging lava flows, meant it would be many months, maybe years until the region fully recovered.

  Mercifully, the death toll was low. In the end, the much derided scientists at the Centre for Volcanology and Geological Hazard Mitigation had issued last-minute evacuation warnings, and against the odds most locals had adhered to them, fleeing south away from the volcano, as many as thirty thousand men, women and children taking refuge at the hundreds of shelters in the south.

  The Mother Temple of Besakih had a lucky escape too. Well, most of it. As the final massive eruption began, so resumed the horrendous rumblings from beneath the ground. They became so violent, that many of the subterranean tunnels and caves had collapsed, though by some quirk of nature, or as many locals suggested, a divine act by Acintya, the temple structure itself remained almost perfectly intact.

  Alerted by some local men that there might be people buried alive in the caves, the authorities set to work exploring the tunnels and chambers. After several hours they had fought their way into what appeared to be an occupied central area, and all bar none of the rescuers were both shocked, and horrified, to find a live tiger, injured and exhausted, but nevertheless still alive. It was trapped, pinned beneath some fallen rocks. But it would live.

  Next to the tiger they were appalled to see the shredded remains of a man, though he was unrecognisable due to his appalling injuries, clearly inflicted by the man-eating tiger. Half of the dead man’s face was missing, as was most of one leg and both arms from the elbows down. Strangely, a shotgun lay beside him, and a ballistics check later revealed that it had not been fired, apparently jamming as the man pulled the trigger.

  Along with the eight dead bodies, all bar one of whom were soon linked to the Macan, the notorious mafia gang that specialised in the black marketing of illicit tiger products, the authorities discovered close to half a million dollars’ worth of those tiger products, though mostly destroyed. Those that were not destroyed soon would be, and thanks to the volcano’s underground rumblings, it had effectively brought to an end that gruesome and terrible business of illicit poaching, slaughtering and trading, and would go some way to helping the magnificent yet perilously rare Sumatran tiger population recover from the very brink of extinction.

  After reading the report in the Bali Times online edition, Kane allowed himself a wry grin, which the ever watchful Ridley didn’t miss.

  “Go on,” she said playfully. “What is it?”

  Kane remained silent for a long moment, as he thought of his friends Putu and Ketut, and of little Ayu. Ayu was safely returned to her family in Nyuh Kuning banjar, and according to Ketut, who he’d spoken to daily since he’d flown to Thailand, she was none the worse for the harrowing experience, though Kane laughed when Ketut declared Ayu really wanted to learn how to swim.

  The banjar kelian had forgiven his nephew Putu for everything he had caused, and Hiram’s friend was now hailed as a hero in the village for his self-sacrifice, which enabled Ayu, Ketut, and Hiram himself to escape the tunnels and Jago’s men.

  Ketut was distraught at his brother’s death, but as a Balinese man who followed the Hindu faith, he knew his sibling had merely entered the next stage of the continuous cycle of birth, life, death and rebirth, and felt certain that, one way or another, he had not seen the last of his beloved big brother.

  “Well, what is it?” Ridley probed, recognising that thoughtful look on Kane’s face and wondering what really hid behind those brown eyes that shone green beneath the bright sun.

  Hiram Kane glanced up at his love and smiled.

  “Nothing, really. It’s just, well, when I chose to return to Bali all those months ago it was because I knew I’d get some quality time to chill out and recharge the batteries after a busy season in the mountains. You know, some sun, a little culture… loads of food and beer. I did not expect to get involved in such an… such an adventure.”

  “You love an adventure almost as much as you love a beer, Hiram Kane. You thrive on adventures.”

  Kane smiled, that wry grin his trademark. She was right, and Kane knew it.