Free Blood Is a Stranger by Roland Perry

last in Indonesia, and she wanted to see if he could help her with Van der Holland.

    From Ujung Pandang, they had been escorted by two armed bodyguards in a Mercedes along a narrow track deep into the dense jungle. Creeping vines, acting like tripwire, impeded the vehicle, and twice the bodyguards had to use machetes to hack it free. The undergrowth’s acrid smell irritated Rhonda and the damp heat forced her to take shallow, forced breaths.
    Perdonny wanted to watch the early afternoon military exercises from a hill-top above the training area on an abandoned airfield.
    He grinned reassuringly as he handed Rhonda binoculars. She panned away from the paratroopers. On the flat range to her left she could see a group being instructed on the General Purpose Machine Gun, the M60, and Sterling sub-machine guns, which were fitted with silencers.
    Rhonda flinched as the staccato sounds of the weapons echoed across the field. Suddenly US Sea Eagle military choppers with their frightening gun mounts emerged from behind a hill and flew over the hill-top.
    â€˜Christ!’ Rhonda hissed, ‘are they looking for us?’
    Perdonny shook his head. ‘They’re going to make hot extractions.’
    The choppers sent dust flying as they hovered and loweredropes. Fully kitted armed paratroopers dashed for the ropes, harnessed themselves, and in seconds were hoisted away.
    Perdonny guided Rhonda to a point where they could see a cliff-face opposite them about a hundred metres away. Paratroopers were diving down the cliff using fast, controlled, roping movements. But some were less in control than others. They moved too quickly and had to brake hard. This caused them to bash against rocks. Others were over-cautious and finished up suspended thirty metres down and going nowhere. Instructors could be heard yelling abuse at them as they hung twisting and struggling.
    Rhonda focused on barracks at the far side of the field, where a squad of fifty was being given unarmed combat lessons.
    â€˜Only half of them are Indonesians,’ Perdonny whispered in her ear. She looked at some of the faces.
    â€˜What are they, Vietnamese?’ she asked.
    â€˜Kampuchean,’ Perdonny replied.
    Rhonda lowered the binoculars.
    â€˜Any significance?’
    Perdonny was about to answer when their two guards dropped down beside them and hissed warnings. They pointed down the other side of the hill. An armed convoy could be seen weaving its way towards them. Perdonny ordered one of the guards to roll his vehicle well off the road.
    â€˜We have little time,’ he whispered, ‘but I wanted you to see something else.’ He pointed to the centre of the field. Rhonda lifted the binoculars again.
    â€˜The figure in the Mao tunic,’ Perdonny said.
    Rhonda zeroed in on him. He was rocking forward on his toes as a military instructor spoke animatedly to him. He grinned to reveal a set of protruding and crooked teeth. The man appeared to be in his mid-fifties. He had black hair brushed back and cut short around the ears,emphasising the saucer-shape of his face, and a flat nose.
    â€˜Who is . . .?’ Rhonda began, but was pushed flat by Perdonny. He put a hand over her mouth. She twisted her head enough to see shadows stalking only twenty metres away and very close to the Mercedes, which was hidden behind bushes. Perdonny eased his hand away. Rhonda felt her heart pound. The guards aimed rifles at the shadows as they came closer. Her eyes widened as Perdonny lifted his Magnum with both hands to eye level. Two shadows multiplied into four, then eight. Rhonda felt they were done for as the shadows took human form.
    The soldiers were part of an advance party for the convoy. They made their way to within ten metres. Rhonda was too frightened to take a breath. Her eyes bulged as Perdonny moved the gun in a slow arc trained on one of the soldiers. Two of them stopped. One spoke and another stifled a high-pitched laugh. Rhonda felt