‘This is it. Stop here.’ Nazim jumped out. The five other vans pulled up behind them on the quayside and the terrorists crowded around their leader in the cold, pattering rain to hear the new plan. Nazim pointed across the dark water at the forest of masts bobbing on the swell.

‘We are going to steal a boat. Something fast and strong that can bear carrying nine tons of cargo. Spread out among the piers and search. Surely we can find the one we need.’

It took them eighteen precious minutes to come up with the goods. Nazim was inspecting the moorings on Pier 7 when his phone buzzed. It was Dariush, the other of the two Afghans, sounding excited. ‘Come quickly, boss. I think I found just the thing.’

Dariush’s discovery was a twelve-metre, twin-engined cruiser that certainly looked the business and even had its own onboard hydraulic cargo loading crane. Abbud, who had studied mechanical engineering at the University of Damascus before taking up his career in international terrorism, reckoned it was up to the job. The decision made, all fourteen men clambered aboard with the automatic weapons and long-handled sledgehammers they’d brought from Paris. Abbud soon figured out how to hotwire the diesel Cummins motors, and within minutes they were cast off and away. Nazim had piloted boats before, during gun-running operations back home, but this thing was faster than any he’d known. They sped out of the harbour with their bows high in the air and slapping the waves, throwing out a foamy wake behind them.

By now it was edging towards six a.m., just two and a half hours or so before the cargo ship was expected in port. At a speed of some twenty knots, that meant it was still about fifty nautical miles from the coast, give or take. The stolen vessel with its powerful diesels and Rolls Royce waterjets could cover the distance in less than half the time. Nazim called Zahran again, who gave him the ship’s current GPS coordinates.

Nazim estimated that they would intercept the ship’s course within an hour, perhaps less. He would strike fast, get the job done and escape before anyone even knew what had happened. He was smiling. He was winning again. Nothing could stop him.