‘I said, they do own the place,’ Ben repeated. ‘They were handed it on a plate, and now it’s theirs again for a while, whether you or I like it or not. I guess sooner or later someone will come and take it from them and then the whole thing starts again. Round and round. We’re all just riding the cycle.’

‘Well, listen to the big expert here,’ Goffin snorted. ‘Is that a fact, Mister Clever Pants?’

Ben looked him up and down. ‘You know, Goffin, for a secret agent you don’t half love to blabber your mouth off. All we’ve been hearing for the last half-hour is you. These guys are tired and they’ve got some actual work to do. How about you shut your pie hole for a while and let them get some rest?’

Goffin bridled and looked as if he was about to say something. Then he saw the calm, dangerous look in Ben’s eyes and shut up.

The remainder of their downtime period went by in relative peace and quiet before they had to tool up and head off again. By now the two vans had turned up outside, one white and one silver, both equally battered but apparently serviceable. They bundled themselves and their personal carry weapons aboard, and set off. Ben rode in the silver van, following the lead vehicle as before, while this time Goffin joined Buchanan and the others in the first. Ben was aware of having made a real friend in the intelligence agent. And he didn’t give the tiniest damn about it.

Chapter 12

Their destination lay in a district in the north of the city. To get there, once more the task force operatives had to keep out of sight in the backs of the vans while their Afghan associates did the driving. Only Goffin was able to travel up front, thanks to his appearance which allowed them to pass through the two checkpoints they encountered without any issues.

The inside of the van was as stifling as an oven. Ben and his three comrades were glad when at last they rolled to a halt and Buchanan’s voice on the radio crackled, ‘We’re there.’