Shepherd pointed the gun at McGovern’s chest. ‘Would you stop complaining?’ he said. ‘This is for your own good.’

‘Shooting me in the middle of the New Forest is for my own good? You are one mad bastard.’

Shepherd grinned. ‘It has to look good or it’s not going to work.’

‘But the suit …’ McGovern raised his arms. ‘You could at least let me change into something cheaper.’

‘That’s the suit you left home in,’ said Shepherd. ‘That’s the suit you’re going to die in. Now, stop moaning.’ He looked over his shoulder at the two men standing behind him. ‘Are we good to go?’ he asked.

‘Ready when you are,’ said the older of the two men. Philip Duff was one of MI5’s most able technicians and was holding the trigger that would set off the small explosive charges on the vest under McGovern’s shirt. His assistant was a younger man and his main role seemed to be to carry Duff’s bags.

Shepherd looked back at McGovern. ‘Don’t fuck this up, Larry,’ he said. ‘If you do, we’ll only have to ruin another suit.’

‘Just pull the trigger and get it over with,’ said McGovern.

‘Don’t over-egg it, that’s what I’m saying,’ said Shepherd. ‘Bang. You react. Bang. Bang. You go down. Keep your eyes closed and don’t breathe.’ He took out his mobile phone with his left hand.

‘I’m not stupid,’ said McGovern.

Shepherd opened the phone’s camera and pressed the button to start video recording. ‘Just so you know, Tommy and Marty want to say goodbye.’

‘Mate, you don’t have to do this,’ said McGovern. ‘Whatever they’re paying you, I’ll match it. I’ll double it.’ He held up his hands. ‘Just name your price.’

‘I’ve been paid,’ said Shepherd. He pulled the trigger. Fake blood burst from McGovern’s chest. He looked down, his mouth open. Shepherd pulled the trigger twice in quick succession and two more blood spouts erupted at the top of McGovern’s shirt. McGovern slumped to his knees, then fell forward into the grave. Shepherd walked slowly to the grave and shot a few seconds of McGovern lying face down, then he switched off the phone. ‘All done, Larry,’ he said. ‘Up you get.’

McGovern pushed himself to his knees. His face was splattered with mud and he spat noisily. Shepherd looked at Duff. ‘How did it look?’ He held out the gun.

‘Perfect,’ said the technician. He took the weapon and handed it to his assistant, who placed it in a metal case.

‘The blood was good?’

Duff nodded.

McGovern peered down at his mud-soaked jacket. ‘For fuck’s sake,’ he said. He undid it and stared at the blood dripping through the holes in his shirt, then did it up again. ‘This suit is fucking ruined.’

‘I thought you’d fall on your back,’ said Shepherd.

‘I thought forward would be more real,’ said McGovern. He held out his hand. Shepherd grabbed it and pulled him out of the grave.

‘Think it’ll convince them?’ asked McGovern.