‘I know so – you’re a chip off the old block.’

‘Did you two see much action, Frank?’ Nash was curious, because his father had never spoken of the war.

‘Hell yeah. We got strafed and bombed, mostly from trigger-happy Yanks, but your dad never flinched. I used to call him the Party-Pooper, because when the bullets were flying, he was pretty much the same as when we were docked in port.’ Douglas grunted to himself. ‘The thing about your dad is he never took short cuts, and he always planned meticulously. Sound familiar? Of course, I was the exact opposite. A hothead, good for a bar fight, not so good when it came to strategy.’ Douglas chuckled nostalgically. ‘Hard to believe we were such good mates.’

‘I always wondered why you two drifted apart.’

‘Peter grew up and I didn’t. That’s why I stayed in the navy. But then I pushed it too far. Flew drunk and crashed. An airman died. Dishonourable discharge.’ In the near darkness, Douglas looked away. ‘No one in the service gave me the time of day after that. Your mum and dad, though, they kept a seat at the table . . . I just hope it wasn’t charity.’

‘It wasn’t, Frank.’

There was a long pause with just the rain drumming down.

‘Robbie, I’m so sorry I got you into this. I really am.’

‘Crazy as it sounds, Frank, I’d rather be here. When you came, I was in a very dark place. I’m not out of it yet, but I can see a chink of light. Enough to make me believe there is an end to it – and maybe a beginning, too.’

Douglas surprised him by ruffling his hair. ‘Robbie, lad, if I’ve learned one thing in this life, you’ve got to forgive yourself before you can move on. No one else can do it for you.’

Work had begun before dawn, with shouted orders and the rumble of generators powering up. Portable tower lights cast a strange yellow glow over the scene, making it look like some bleak pit mining operation from the nineteenth century. And all the while, the rain kept tumbling down under black skies.

‘Well, that’s torn it,’ muttered Douglas, peering through the tent flap at the bustle of activity.

‘Plan B, then.’ Nash was dry-mouthed with fear and anticipation.

Douglas turned to them. ‘When Sura’s chopper blows, I’ll come out firing. So, take your chance wherever you are, because you won’t get another.’

Mia looked at each of them in dismay.

‘This is not a plan. It’s going out in a blaze of glory.’ Her eyes searched Nash’s. ‘There must be another way.’

‘If there is, you’ve got about fifteen seconds to think of it.’ Douglas cocked the MP40. ‘Our friends are coming.’

He lay back down on his stretcher and pulled the blanket over the weapon.