Redback (3 page)

'Of course.'

'Then I would like you to tell me, if you can, what you think your government is up to.' He
pointed the remote at a video recorder. 'This was recorded about five hours ago.'

The tail end of a Sky News update on an Aussie cricketer was followed by the latest on the
Pacific Island Hostage Crisis.

Jana shook her head. 'Straight up, I can tell you that news of an injured sportsman is more
important than anything our government is ever up to.'

The TV newsreader, backed by a graphic of an island, was recapping the events of nine days ago:

Thirty-six trade and tourism delegates from Australia, New Zealand, Japan, the US
and several Pacific nations were taken hostage at the Coral Isle Resort on remote Laui Island.

One-time Opposition Leader Mila Ifran and members of his Pacific Rebel Alliance
have claimed responsibility for the attack. Despite initial witness reports of explosions and
gunfire, the rebel leader maintains that none of the hostages or remaining staff had been hurt.
Before normal communications with Laui were cut, 17 resort employees were cast off the island in a
launch. They confirmed that the rebels had then sunk the hotel's remaining commuter vessels.

The rebels used fishing boats to reach the resort atoll from their base on the
main island 13 kilometres away. As these vessels and their crews have since been impounded and
arrested by the Australian Navy, it's believed that the PRA are also, effectively, confined to the
island of Laui.

'Is that true?' Jana asked.

'Effectively,' Ifran agreed. 'Watch now,' he added.

The newsreader continued:

The Foreign Minister today postponed his visit to Kuwait for talks with the US
Secretary of State, to meet instead with ministers from New Zealand, Fiji and the Philippines in an
attempt to find a solution to the hostage crisis. Representatives from Taiwan, Japan and the US are
also en route to New Zealand. Many of these same ministers will be meeting in Canberra in a
fortnight when Australia hosts the fifth SETSA meeting. High on the agenda for the now annual
Southern Economic Trade and Security Alliance will be new initiatives to fight the rise of
militancy, insurgency and cross-border terrorism within the 'South Pole to 23 degrees north'
zone.

Mr Danby had this to say before flying out to Wellington:

'The purpose of the emergency meeting in Wellington is to discuss ways of opening
a dialogue with the rebels on Laui. From all accounts Mila Ifran is a reasonable man; much loved and
respected. We should have no trouble finding a solution.'

When a reporter asked the Minister if he was going to agree to the PRA's demands,
he said:

'No. We don't negotiate with kidnappers. But we will open talks with Mr Ifran and
try to resolve the issue.'

Jana noted the Foreign Minister looked smug and smarmy, as usual, but also more
harried than she'd ever seen him. Aaron Danby, great with the big-picture spin but hopeless with the
personal detail. It was one thing to grip the tailgate of the US bandwagon and commit troops to
overseas duty with the American posse, but another altogether to be responsible for the lives of
nine Australian civilians. Especially when their names and mugshots were running across the screen
as he spoke.

Ifran hit the pause button. 'What does he mean, Dr Rossi? How can he say he doesn't negotiate but
he will talk to us?'

'He means that he will ask what you want in exchange for our release.'

Ifran looked puzzled. 'Isn't that negotiating?'

'Only in the real world, Mr Ifran.'

'Will he give us what we want?'

'It won't be up to him alone and it depends what it is. What do you want?'

'For our government to hold a free election monitored by the United Nations. Or by Australia.'

'This is a bloody stupid way to go about it.'

'Quiet, Alan,' Jana snapped. 'Is that it? Sorry. I know that's a huge thing, but is that all you
want?'

Ifran shrugged. 'And for the aid that has been provided by Australia to reach the people it was
meant for; instead of lining the pockets of our corrupt politicians.'

'I don't mean to be a cynical hack,' Alan interrupted again, 'but foreign aid never goes from a
country to a people. It goes from one government to another; and even then only when the government
with the dosh has an agenda to keep the other one in power.'

'We seek to change that,' Ifran said.

'I'm sure you do,' Alan said nodding.

Ifran glanced over his shoulder at the soldiers in the doorway. 'Take him back. Then escort Dr
Rossi to the other cabins, so she may check on her delegates.'

'Thank you.' Jana smiled her best smile.

'You may not go inside. Just a few words with each to make sure they are well.' Ifran dismissed
them both with a wave and turned his attention to a laptop and its incoming-email chime. Jana had
barely reached the door when Ifran threw a final, apparently casual, question at her.

'Will he negotiate for you Dr Rossi?'

Jana's stomach lurched from hungry to queasy. 'I'm not holding my breath, Mr Ifran. So I wouldn't
count on it.'

'What did he mean by that?' Alan demanded, as soon as they were back on the path.

'I've no idea, Alan,' Jana lied, wishing she'd had the sense to beg to be locked up anywhere
else.

Wellington, New Zealand
Tuesday 6pm

'Tell me again why we're meeting here.' The Foreign Minister asked his personal
assistant, as he flexed his shoulders and cricked his neck. Even first class seats tended to be
uncomfortable for his large frame.

'So it looks like we're taking action while we're still just talking about it.'

'And who's here?'

'Aaron, didn't you read my email on the plane?'

'No, Mick. On the plane, I was sleeping.'

Mick Fleming growled at his boss and long-time best mate before proceeding, as usual, to fill him
in on the run.

'Your counterparts from here, Japan and Fiji; the New Zealand PM - because it's her building - a
couple of our key navy personnel; and intelligence wankers from everywhere, including ASIO and ASIS
of course and the CIA.'

'What the hell do they want?' Aaron Danby asked.

'If you mean the CIA, two of the hostages are theirs remember.'

'What, spies?'

'No. American citizens,' Mick stated.

'Bugger. But we still don't negotiate with terrorists?'

'No, but they're not terrorists; they're rebels.'

'And the difference is?'

'Politics, upbringing, an absence of religious fanaticism?' Mick shrugged. 'I don't know and it
doesn't matter. We don't intend to agree to anything. We need to keep them talking while…' Mick
hesitated as a harried woman emerged from a door ahead of them and rushed away down the
corridor.

Danby stopped dead. 'Mate. This is a high security government complex and I doubt the Kiwis are
spying on us. You can probably talk freely.'

Mick narrowed his eyes and looked guilty.

'Oh.' Danby narrowed his eyes too, mimicking his friend, as he'd done ever since they were kids.
'Keep them talking while what happens?'

'While we extract the hostages,' Mick lowered his voice to a whisper.

'By force?'

'In a manner of speaking.'

'And how long have you been speaking in this manner?'

Mick raised an eyebrow. 'There's a retrieval team in place, awaiting orders, as we…'

'Speak?' Danby finished. 'A retrieval team? Was that in your email? The one I didn't read.'

'No.'

'Did I know about this before now?'

'No.'

'Do I want to know about it now?'

'Not really.'

'And when you say
we
do you mean we're assisting the CIA, or - someone?'

'No. When I say we, I mean us,' Mick said and gave a sly grin, 'for a change.'

Danby looked thoughtful. 'That's nice, but I wasn't aware we did things like that,' he said, then
indicated they should proceed down the corridor.

'It's not something we advertise, Aaron.'

'It's not something listed in the Foreign Minister's handbook either.'

'Few things are,' Mick noted.

Danby stopped again and shoved his hands in his pockets. 'If we have a team in place, Mick, does
that mean we have an update on the situation?'

'As of 15 minutes ago,' Mick nodded, 'we believe the hostages are all alive and…well,
alive.'

Danby looked expectant.

'They're all locked in separate cabins. Jana Rossi was spotted being escorted around.'

'Thank God,' Danby continued walking. 'Okay, apart from you Mick - and you can tell me later why
that is so - who does know about this retrieval?'

'Technically? The PM.'

'So Robert okayed it?'

'Technically.' Mick indicated a right turn down a cross corridor.

Danby smirked. 'Robert doesn't know anything about this either, you mean?'

'And it's best if he doesn't,' Mick said, smiled, then shrugged. 'He'll only want to share it
with, you know, everyone so no American toes get stomped on.'

'Mick?'

'Aaron.'

'You're not gonna keep me in the dark, if I become Prime Minister are you?'

'When you do, Aaron mate. When you do. And I wouldn't dream of it.'

'But 'when' is the real question isn't it?' Danby said, even now launching into his favourite
gripe. 'Anyone'd think we had a legitimate line of succession instead of a government of elected
members. That arrogant beanpole Robert Harvey has no intention of making way for anybody, which
leaves me way back in the imaginary queue behind bloody Prior and Sharpe. And Robert's only 59. I
mean I know I'm younger than all of them…'

'And more patient,' Mick said. He'd heard it all before.

'Oh sure, mate. I'll grow some patience when you stop barracking for the Sydney Swans, mate.'
Danby laughed. 'Let's face it, we only just scraped into power
last
time - and it's still
actually beyond me how he pulled that off again. I'll be 50-something myself before I get a crack at
his job, assuming we hang on for another couple of terms. If we don't then I'll be an old man before
I get to warm that seat.'

'Stop whingeing Aaron, it's not like you're a lowly backbencher.'

'True,' Danby shrugged, accustomed to Mick's standard reminder. 'Hey, I've got an idea. Does this
retrieval team you sent to Laui do abductions as well?'

'No they bloody don't.'

Laui Island, Pacific Ocean
Tuesday 6.30 pm

'Redback Team One - you in place?'

'Yes, Link. Still. We're gonna die of old age here.'

'
Beats
being shot, Gideon. Can you see the others?'

'Coop and Wade are dozing in the sand beside me.'

'The other teams, Gideon.'

'It's a small island, Link; but not that small.'

'I take that as a negative.'

'Whatever. We are three-by-three, and in place.'

'Roger. Should be good to go in about ten.'

'Wake me when the word comes through.'

'If it comes down to it, Gideon, it's your call not theirs. As usual. Okay?'

'Yeah. As usual.' Bryn Gideon pulled a face at Wade and Cooper, who'd heard both sides of the
exchange through their aural implants.

Wade caught the look. 'The gunner who went bush for a piss has returned,' he said, then returned
his eye to the nightscope. 'So we're back to four under the tree, and five playing darts in the rec
room. The solo is about to lock our package up again. And what I want to know is, how come she looks
just as young and cute as she did in our briefing?' Wade sat back on his haunches. 'Video always
makes me look older and fatter.'

'You are older and fatter,' Coop stated. 'And hairier.'

'Not to mention butt ugly to begin with,' Gideon said, belly-crawling into position to catch a
glimpse of their primo mission objective. Uh-huh. Cute was not word enough for that little
honey-blonde package. No wonder someone's desperate to get her back. Nine days in captivity and
she's still sparking.

To all intents it looked like Dr Jana Rossi was out for a nice evening stroll with a good friend,
except that she was all animated and chatty, and her armed companion wasn't smiling.

Gideon took stock again. The 36 hostages were being held in two adjacent precincts, each with ten
cabins semi-circling communal outdoor spaces. The lush vegetation that surrounded and separated the
two private gardens also provided good cover from the main resort complex.

Team One had already agreed on a divide and release option. Gideon and Cooper would each secure a
hostage area while Wade dealt with the rec-room rebels, before returning to guard the path to the
boats beached on the south side of the island.

Gideon tapped the throat mike to use the inter-team comm channel. It was stupid to be sent out
only half fitted. Having to rely on two systems during a live-op was asking for trouble. The aurals
were good for listening but, for now, hard-mikes were all they had for communication between teams.
That and good old face-to-face sign language.

'Deuce Team. How's your sandbox?' Gideon asked.

'Sitting on the dock of the bay.'

'Quit singing Triko, you'll scare the wildlife.'

'We got three rebs fishing off the jetty here and four drinking beer by the scuba shack.'

'Team Three?' Gideon said. 'You still awake, Finch?'

'Barely. There's still five in with Ifran. That's odd. One of them's wearing - oh mate, that's
weird.'

'What's weird?'

'Yo, Gideon,'
Triko interrupted.

'Triko,' Gideon acknowledged.

'There's a Zodiac coming in slow and quiet. The PRA boys on the dock are obviously not
expecting it. All but two are running back in a panic.'

'Shit!' Gideon swore. 'Team Two, take out those rebels on the jetty do not let them return. And
we're not expecting either, Triko, so check that raft. Team Three, secure Ifran. All Redbacks:
silent; zero body count. Go.'