From the little he could see, there were three largish pods – little more than basic cubes – and about fifteen people, five of them women, all half-heartedly disguised in linen rags of a vaguely Egyptian appearance, but with modern armour showing through. Just over half of them were scurrying around, busily packing objects into crates. The other half were facing outwards in a tight, defensive ring, weapons ready. None of them were working with lights but they were quick and quiet all the same. This was a professional gang, accustomed to working together and who had rehearsed for this. And they were nearly finished. He wondered where Ellis and his teams were. Nearby, concealed in the rocks and all ready to go, he hoped.

He shifted for a better view. Someone pulled him back down again, dislodging a few small pebbles which clattered against a rock.

‘Quiet,’ hissed Grint. ‘Stay still and stay behind me.’

‘But . . .’

‘Don’t argue with the officer,’ whispered Anders. ‘Sir, Major Ellis reports his teams are in position. We’re good to go.’

‘Night vision off, you two.’

Barely had he finished speaking than, without warning, dazzling white lights split the night. Shadows fled. With a huge roar, a score of black figures rose up from behind the boulders and began to pour down the hillside. Rocks and loose shale poured down with them.

‘You stay here, Farrell,’ said Grint, who had been shifting uncomfortably. ‘You too, Anders. Take care of him.’ And then he too was gone into the dark, ignoring both their protests.

Anders cast Matthew a look of utter disgust, conveying that not only was he very much unessential to things in general and this operation in particular, but also managing to tie up a good officer into the bargain. Intentionally or not, he pushed him hard against a rock and Matthew overbalanced and fell into the dust.

‘Stay down. Stay quiet, kid.’

‘But I can . . .’

‘I said, “stay quiet”.’

Matthew struggled up into a crouching position. Anders cast him a calculating look as if deciding whether to push him down again or leave him as he was.

Matthew tightened his grip on his baton. Why, he wasn’t sure. It seemed unlikely he would be called upon to use it. His legs began to ache with the strain of squatting for so long.

Down below, those working on the crates wasted a whole second trying to work out what was happening and then, faced with an unknown number of giant black figures hurtling down the hillside out of the dark and heading directly towards them, and blinded by the brilliant lights, they scattered, seeking cover among the rocks. Around them, small landslides clattered noisily down the rocky hillside. Clouds of dust swirled wildly in the searchlights.

Anders cursed.

‘What’s happening?’ said Matthew, again trying to stand up.