Which was when the first real problem presented itself, because there seemed to be nowhere for them to land. Nazim closed the throttle and tacked along the coastline, peering impatiently through the curtain of mist and rain but seeing only sheer, craggy cliffs. After a couple of minutes he spotted a cove with a stretch of open beach. There was no kind of harbour or pier, nothing to moor up to, but Nazim didn’t give a damn. He whacked the throttle wide open and steered right for the cove. He braced himself for impact. Three … two … one … Now.

The boat grounded itself with a thumping, rending, grinding crash that shuddered the vessel from stem to stern and jolted two of his unwary men off their feet. Their momentum carried them right up out of the water and onto the beach, the deep-draught aluminium hull ploughing a V-shaped furrow through the loose rock and shingle. The propellers bit down hard against solid ground and buckled, stalling the engines. The boat slithered to a halt at a diagonal angle to the beach. It wouldn’t be taking to sea again in a hurry, but so what? They were on land, and ready to move to the next phase.

The terrorists clambered out onto the sloping deck and jumped down to the ground, clutching their weapons. There were a lot of grins and high-fives. Only the more intelligent members of Nazim’s gang, like Abbud and Zahran, seemed to be aware of the new problem that now faced them. Namely, the fact that they were fifteen heavily armed men in possession of nine tons of illicit drugs, stranded in the middle of nowhere miles from their vehicles, and even further from their destination. Abbud frowned and asked, ‘So how do we plan on getting out of here?’

But the redoubtable Nazim al-Kassar wasn’t about to allow such piffling concerns to deter him. By the light of the rising sun he could make out some houses and buildings in the distance, a few hundred yards inland from the beach where verdant hills and fields rose up high above sea level.

He pointed. ‘This is a rural area. The people are all peasants, and look how green the land is. Which means there’ll be farmers everywhere, and farmers have large trucks and tractors and trailers for carrying all kinds of loads like manure and livestock. Those weigh a lot more than nine tons.’ Nazim’s confidence was authoritative, his knowledge of this place he’d never seen before absolute. He turned and swept his pointing finger across the beach. ‘The ground is all rock and shingle. We’ll have no problem getting a heavy vehicle down here to the boat. Then we’ll just load up the barrels and be on our way. All right?’

‘Whatever you say, boss.’