A good distance ahead of them, just before the first crossroads, he saw a checkpoint and began to slow down. Two soldiers in field-grey greatcoats with sub-machine guns stepped into the road. One of them, much smaller than his comrade and wearing spectacles, raised his right hand, palm forward.

‘What do you think, Sunny?’

‘I don’t know.’

‘Well, I don’t like it.’ He pulled the Walther from the glovebox where he had stowed it. ‘I take it this thing’s loaded?’

‘What are you going to do?’

Wilde stopped the Buick a hundred yards back from the checkpoint. And waited.

‘What’s happening? What’s happening?’ Klara’s voice came from the back seat.

‘Hush, Klara. We don’t know yet. Lie flat on the seat and keep your head down. Get ready to get out and run if we say so. OK?’

Wilde narrowed his eyes, squinting through the drizzle. There was a dark-coloured vehicle parked close to the two soldiers. At first he had thought it must be some sort of armoured car or troop carrier, but now he wasn’t so sure.

‘You see that black vehicle, Sunny? Just hidden in the trees . . . that’s not military. Looks very like the van we saw at Der Steinhof.’

‘God, you’re right.’

With the pistol on his lap, Wilde wrenched the gearstick into reverse, but it was stiff and he stalled the engine.

‘God damn it.’

He turned the ignition key to ‘off’ and tried to restart the car, but the engine wouldn’t catch. The two men in field-grey army greatcoats and steel helmets were advancing down the centre of the narrow road, MP 40s at their chests. Suddenly the smaller of the two men stopped, took quick aim, and a burst of gunfire followed. Bullets peppered the Buick’s bonnet. Wilde desperately tried the ignition again. This time it roared into life. He hit reverse once more and let out the clutch. The wheels spun as he accelerated back down the road, trying to hold a line and not veer off into the trees.

The checkpoint sentries broke into a trot.

Wilde was desperate to turn the car round so he could build up some speed, but the road was a narrow single track and the steering circle of the Buick was made for the open highway. Then over his shoulder he saw another car approaching from the rear. Now they were trapped. He pushed down hard on the horn, hoping the other car would take evasive action and drive off the road.