Further along, they took an exit off the dual carriageway, conducted a full circuit at the roundabout before taking a left, observing to see if any vehicles followed the same manoeuvre, then pulled off onto a service road where a sign said, ‘Not Suitable for Motor Vehicles’. Further down was a gate that, two days ago, Ward and Miller had secured with a chain and a padlock. Abbott stopped the van, Ward and Miller disembarked, Ward confirming that the chain hadn’t been tampered with and checking that the stick they’d placed in the tracks wasn’t broken.

‘Clear?’ asked Abbott when they returned.

‘Apart from us, not a soul has been here.’

‘Excellent.’

They drove through, set a sensor on the gate behind them and then moved on until they reached the designated area, a derelict building identified by Ward and Miller during the CTR phase. It had once been some kind of industrial lock-up but was now overgrown with vegetation. An elevated position that overlooked the Kemptown compound, that was hidden from the road and not covered by CCTV. Close enough for Brace to work his magic, for full comms coverage but far away enough not to attract attention from the Doyle crew. All that and a flat roof.

They drove the van inside, got out and made their way up the metal stairway to the roof. Brace took his sniper rifle with its NV scope and positioned himself in the pre-determined location giving the best field of view. Abbott placed his throat mic on and then attached a tactical comms headset, ‘All call signs radio check.’

‘Mike One, good to me, over.’

‘Tango One, good to me over. Whiskey One, good to me, over.’

‘All call signs, this is Alpha, good to me, out.’

Communication, they all knew, was the lifeblood of mission success.

The others did the same, tested the link. The voices in his ear sounded familiar and intimate and took him back to his time in SF so that for a second it was like slipping into a warm bath, a world in which he felt comfortable within its constant threat. Was there something wrong with him that he had to pull on a balaclava and an assault rifle on a strap before he felt fully human? Perhaps. Then again, perhaps he should fully interrogate that another time, because right now there was just him, his team, and the objective.

Only the objective.

Abbott joined Brace on the roof with his binoculars. Brace had a good sight of the approach road and the barrier. It was precisely why the location had been chosen. His visual was of the two vans parked end to end. Both men were in the cab of a van that faced them, which right away wasn’t great.

They also had the distraction of the flip-up phones they held, thumbs moving furiously, either playing a game or texting.