‘Brian,’ said the officer in the front passenger seat. ‘What’s going on?’ He twisted around in his seat and his eyes widened when he saw the gun. He was in his early twenties with a rash of old acne scars across both cheeks.

‘Nobody told you?’ said Shepherd, putting the gun back in his holster.

‘We were just told to keep an eye on that truck ahead, the one with the green container, and that somebody would be joining us,’ said Alistair. He looked at Shepherd in the rear-view mirror. ‘Someone from the Home Office, they said, which covers a multitude of sins.’

‘We need to stop the truck and get the two men out with as little fuss as possible,’ said Shepherd.

‘That explains the Glock, then,’ said the driver, with only the slightest trace of irony in his voice.

‘We’re going to make it seem like a regular traffic stop,’ said Shepherd. ‘Softly, softly, and I’ll approach them on my own.’

‘What do you need us to do?’ asked the younger cop.

‘Absolutely nothing,’ said Shepherd.

Crazy Boy put his foot down on the accelerator and the speedometer needle pushed above fifty miles an hour. Two Knives held out the bag of khat and Crazy Boy took a handful of leaves. He was just about to put them in his mouth when a blue light flashed behind the truck and he heard the blip of a siren. Both men looked in their side mirrors.

‘Cops,’ said Two Knives.

The siren blipped again. The police car was directly behind them so there was no doubt that it was the truck that they were signalling to stop.

‘I’m going to have to pull over,’ said Crazy Boy.

‘What do they want?’

‘How the hell do I know what they want?’ said Crazy Boy. ‘We weren’t speeding. Maybe it’s a random stop.’

‘Do they do that?’

‘Who the hell knows?’ said Crazy Boy. ‘Maybe there’s something loose at the back. Just stay cool, we’ll be fine.’

Two Knives peered at the car in the mirror. ‘It’s a regular traffic car,’ he said.

‘Hide the khat,’ said Crazy Boy as he slowed the truck and indicated that he was pulling in.

‘Khat’s legal in England,’ said Two Knives.

‘Just do it,’ said Crazy Boy. ‘Let’s not give them any excuse.’

He pulled on to the hard shoulder as Two Knives shoved the bag under his seat. Crazy Boy watched in his side mirror as the rear door of the police car opened and a cop in a fluorescent jacket climbed out. The cop carefully put on his peaked hat and then walked towards the truck holding a clipboard.

‘Get the guns ready, just in case,’ said Crazy Boy.

‘You think we’ve got trouble?’

‘Let’s see what he wants. But give me my gun.’