Second Strike

CHAPTER 60

The AFP guards greeted Mac as he ran up the steps. Letting himself into the townhouse, he saw Jen was on the phone and Rachel was sitting on the fl oor banging a green plastic cube with a plastic ball.

Pulling a VB from the fridge, he raised an inquiring eyebrow at Jenny and she nodded. He opened another bottle for her and sat down on the fl oor with Rachel. Jenny moved out onto the patio and sat at the table, making lots of hmm noises, which usually meant she thought someone was bullshitting her. She nodded, sipped on the beer and signed off. Mac gave Rachel a kiss on the forehead and walked out to the patio and kissed his wife.

‘What’s happening?’ he asked, easing back in the plastic outdoor chair, the thromp of helos evident in the distance.

‘Those people in the sweatshop are from all over South-East, even Burma,’ she said, shaking her head. ‘Going to take ages to repatriate them.’

‘Not your problem yet, is it?’ he asked.

Jenny gave him The Look and Mac said, ‘Fair enough. So what about Santo?’

‘They’ve charged him.’

Mac frowned and sighed. ‘Shit.’

‘No one holds a gun to a cop’s head and then walks,’ said Jen. ‘PA are strong about that up here – not how it works.’

Mac was going to say something smart about the Police Association

– the cops’ trade union – but decided against it. They weren’t always there for Frank in the old days.

‘But anyway,’ she said, ‘Ke is back with his sisters and they’re all applying for residency, so fi ngers crossed.’

Mac wondered if he shouldn’t have tried harder with Ke, got him out of the immigration tangle. He decided to leave it.

‘I’m having a beer with Ari at six, but I won’t be late.’

‘Ari, huh?’ she smiled.

‘What?’

‘Oh, nothing.’

‘Well say it!’

‘You know.’

‘Do I?’ asked Mac, a little lost in the whole female obtuse thing.

‘Yeah, you know – Ari and Mari, up a tree?’

Laughing, Mac asked her if she was kidding.

‘No. They like each other, didn’t you see?’

Mac hadn’t seen.

‘So, maybe -‘

Mac got it. ‘Okay, we’ll be at the Iluka bar. If she meets us there at six-thirty, I’ll do the handover, okay?’

Jenny smiled widely and picked up the cordless phone, started dialling.

‘Then I could be in the mood for a sexy brunette with a great arse,’ said Mac with a wink.

Ari and Mac compared their faxes of the latents that BAIS had taken from the Galaxy.

‘I think these are the Araby words, yes?’ asked Ari, pointing to three symbols that were faint but clearly meant something. Each one was at a slightly different angle and seemed to sit around a bunch of lines, some that were parallel, others at an angle with what looked like a dotted or broken line through the whole set-up. Superimposed was a list of numbers and numerals that were easily recognisable as fl ight times from Singers to Darwin.

Ari, who had obviously looked at it harder than Mac, suggested that they read this latent as possibly a combination of two, and that the Arabic symbols and the lines might have been beneath the fl ight times.

They looked at it and started with the symbols. The fi rst one, bounded by two straight vertical lines, started with what could be a ‘V’ and faded into several lines and curves. To its left was a longer series – done by the same hand – and positioned beside a circle. Mac and Ari could discern a crucifi x or a ‘T’ in the jumble but it didn’t appear to relate to the scrawls around it. To the right, and lower than the other words – and also bound within its own lines – was a short collection of curves. The lines suggested a map or blueprint, with accompanying codes. But even with Mossad’s extraordinary attempts to bring the latent writing to life, it was indistinct to Ari and Mac.

‘I am worried about this circle here, McQueen,’ said Ari, grimacing and sipping his beer, and looking around the bar before going back to the latent. ‘Lines here, symbols here,’ he gestured, ‘but this circle in middle – like tower or building?’

‘I guess if we’re saying this is a map,’ said Mac, ‘then the question is, what of? A circuit board? A bugging set-up in a house? An