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SNOWING IN BALI

officer was shaking his head. Marco’s slick spiel was failing; he was twitchy, nervy. Things were about to get worse. The officer ordered him to ‘wait there’; he was going to get equipment to cut open the tubes. It hit Marco – he was going down with the biggest load he’d ever carried. Unless he did something fast.

He knew he had only one chance. It was make or break, right now. There was no time to think. He couldn’t fight, so flight was his only hope. The airport was frenetically busy, people everywhere, with two packed Garuda flights arriving simultaneously with Marco’s flight. He glanced maniacally from side to side, his heart racing.

The split second the customs officer turned away, he took his chance. In the blink of an eye he was off, the adrenalin shooting through his body, giving him an uncanny agility, despite his limp, to weave, duck and slip out of the crowded airport, untouched by police. In the car park, he leapt on the back of a random motorbike taxi, rasping, ‘Let’s go.’

‘Terminal One?’ the guy asked.

‘Yes, yes,’ Marco yelled, clinging to the driver as they tore off.

I’m David Copperfield, brother, I can disappear in one minute, that’s

why you have to lock me up. I can fly with no wings.

– Marco

The wind whipped Marco’s face as the motorcyclist raced along the road. He felt alive. He was on the run, an escapee. For these moments he felt elated – he’d done something no one else would have dared. It flashed through his mind that this was like a movie. When they got to Terminal One, he vaulted off the back of the slowing bike, slung 50,000 rupiah

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