Read No Man's Land - A Russell Carter Thriller for Free Online

arms.”
    “So you reckon Samudra sees himself as what? The next Osama bin Laden?”
    “Correct.” Thomas took a delicate sip of tea and placed it on the table. “And you are involved whether you like it or not.”

11
    Carter drained his teacup and looked out the open window, studying the shedding bark of a ghost gum. He wondered what Thomas wasn’t telling him. Thomas only shared information on a need-to-know basis.
    “How do you know it’s not just the mad ranting of a fanatic preaching to the converted?” Carter asked. “Why take it so seriously?”
    “In case you’ve forgotten, three clan members did try to kill you this morning.”
    “Could’ve just been a one-off act of revenge.”
    “I can assure you it’s not just about you. We have evidence that Samudra has set up a military-style training camp on Batak Island at the top end of Sumatra.”
    “A bunch of radical Muslims running round in army fatigues on a remote tropical island and a revenge attempt on my life hardly constitute a threat to Australia’s national security.”
    “Perhaps not, but we’ve discovered a Sungkar clan cell four hours west of here, on a cattle property close to Boggabilla on the Queensland–New South Wales border.”
    Carter put his hands behind his head and stretched back. There had been a couple of credible terrorist threats against Australia in the late nineties and in the aftermath of 9/11, both involving local branches of Jemaah Islamiah. One had involved the group Mantiqi IV, who had a base in the Blue Mountains, an hour and a half drive west of Sydney. Another group had set up a military-style training operation in Western Australia – it had been run by the Ayub twins, who fled Australia after the 2002 Bali bombing. Despite the initial concern, neither had amounted to anything.
    “What else?” Carter asked, knowing there must be more to it.
    “Samudra’s sister Kemala strongly maintains the Sungkar clan intends to wipe out the order and execute a jihad on Australian soil,” Thomas said. “Most likely in Sydney.”
    “Samudra’s sister? Is she a reliable source?”
    “Absolutely. Kemala has been actively watching Samudra’s activities since he assumed leadership of the Sungkar clan shortly after you went walkabout.”
    Carter detected a sly glance in his direction from Wayan, indicating that Thomas’s interest in Kemala went beyond the purely professional. If that was the case, it was out of character. He filed the information away.
    “Erina is in Boggabilla investigating the clan and has confirmed some disturbing activity,” Thomas continued. “And there’s one piece of information that will be of particular interest to you.”
    Carter didn’t respond. It felt like Thomas was playing him, drip-feeding information.
    “Alex Botha has joined Samudra’s clan.”
    The mention of Alex’s name caused Carter to sit up straighter in his chair.
    In many ways Alex was his alter ego. He was South African by birth, a former member of the order and, like Carter and Erina, a sanjuro. He and Carter were the same age and shared the same birthday, 19 November. For a number of years they had been close friends. Alex and he shared a passion for the Japanese samurai tradition and both were master swordsmen. When Alex was training to be a sanjuro, they had often sparred for hours with wooden swords. But about five or six years before Carter left the order, Alex’s arrogance and pride had begun to take over his personality.
    They both collected replicas of famous swords, and when one of Carter’s favorites disappeared – the “Drying Pole,” used by the famous samurai Kojiro – he confronted Alex, who claimed he’d never touched it. Their relationship had never been the same after that.
    Alex had become increasingly competitive with Carter and started using his substantial talent for the martial arts and combat in a cruel and self-serving way. He’d stopped paying attention to the spiritual principles of the