Sunda Kelapa Harbor was shrouded in a thin mist and the sharp smell of salt when Indah arrived. She left her motorcycle in a ditch, covering her tracks with dry leaves. Her destination was the cargo ship KM Samudra, an old vessel reputed to be able to carry anything—and anyone—out of Indonesia without official documents.
Indah made her way along the slick wooden pier. Her jacket hood was pulled low, hiding her already-weary face. The slash on her arm from the glass shards at Dirgantara Tower had begun to throb, but she ignored it.
She met a man with an anchor tattooed on his neck. “Rudi?” Indah asked curtly.
The man spat into the sea, his eyes studying Indah suspiciously. “Money first, ma’am. Getting out of here now will cost you. The entire harbor is under heavy guard.”
Indah handed him a packet of cash. Rudi counted it quickly, then nodded. “Get into hold number four. We leave in ten minutes.”
Indah had just started to step aboard when her instincts screamed. She felt a change in air pressure. A stealth helicopter—a modified Black Hawk belonging to The Nine—emerged from behind the low clouds with barely a sound from its engines. Only a strange rush of wind.
“Rudi, get down!” Indah shouted.
RATATATAT!
The helicopter’s heavy-caliber machine gun shredded the wooden pier where they stood. Rudi had no time to move; his body was torn apart instantly. Indah leaped into the water, the seawater’s cold stabbing her skin like a thousand needles.
Underwater, she could see bullets punching through the surface, creating deadly white lines. Indah swam toward a massive pier piling, using the concrete as cover. She had to think fast. The helicopter had heat sensors. Staying in the water would only slow her down.
She drew a shallow breath as she surfaced amid an oil slick. Her eyes caught sight of a massive container crane nearby. If she could reach the top, she had a chance.
Indah climbed with an inhuman speed for someone who had nearly drowned moments ago. Her hands and feet moved in perfect synchronization, making use of every cable and piece of old iron. At the top of the crane, she took the folding sniper rifle from her backpack—a modified XM2010.
She took aim. The helicopter wheeled around, its searchlight sweeping across the pier. Indah waited. She needed one precise shot at the rear rotor.
BOOM!
It wasn’t Indah’s shot. An explosion ripped through the hull of the KM Samudra. The Nine didn’t want her to escape; they would rather destroy the entire harbor than lose their asset.
Indah ground her teeth. “Damn you.”
She fired. BANG!
The bullet pierced the helicopter’s cockpit glass, hitting the pilot. The helicopter listed, spinning wildly through the air. Indah’s second shot struck the reserve fuel tank. The helicopter exploded into a massive fireball, illuminating the dawn sky with a horrifying orange glow.
The helicopter wreckage crashed onto several containers, triggering a chain of explosions. Indah stood atop the crane, her figure silhouetted against the flames. She spotted another small boat trying to move away from the chaos. Without hesitation, she dove from a height of twenty meters, plunging straight into the sea, and swam toward it.
When she managed to climb aboard the terrified little fishing boat, she pointed her pistol at the old fisherman there.
“North,” Indah ordered, her voice hoarse. “Keep going north until we’re out of these waters.”
The fisherman trembled as he looked at the woman drenched in blood and seawater, yet possessing a gaze that could kill God himself. He immediately gunned the boat’s motor.
Indah collapsed onto a pile of fishing nets. She opened the flash drive in her trembling hand. The light from the distant explosions still reflected in her eyes. She was alive. But she knew this was only the beginning of the hundred chapters of hell she would have to endure to find her lost name.