‘You think we should let this lot talk to us like we’re scum?’

Bowman drew in a breath. ‘Look, we both know that we’re in charge of this op. But we can’t piss these guys off. They’ve got the ear of the president. It’ll make our lives easier if we get along with them.’

Kember shook his head. ‘This mission is a joke.’

‘That’s a bit extreme.’

‘Come on, Josh. We both know that this is a job for the plod, not us. The threat is low level. Some amateur nutcase with a butcher’s knife trying to hack his way into the principal’s car. Nothing that the royal protection squad couldn’t deal with.’

‘What’s your point?’

‘It’s obvious. This op is a PR exercise. We’ve been drafted in to make this guy feel appreciated.’

‘Six wouldn’t send us up here just for that.’

‘Wouldn’t they?’ Kember cracked his knuckle joints before he went on. ‘Everyone knows Seguma is a big fan of the British army. He was a cadet at Sandhurst and everything. Sending us in to guard him is bound to put a big smile on his mug.’

‘Even if that’s true,’ Bowman said, ‘it doesn’t change our mission.’

‘It ain’t right. We’re being used.’

‘Could be worse.’

‘Aye? How’s that?’

‘If we weren’t doing this, we’d be doing some other crap. We could be out in the desert right now, sleeping in tents and shitting in a hole in the ground. At least here we’ve got a warm bed, clean dry clothes, a good wash. There are worse jobs.’

That drew a scornful look from Kember. ‘Frankly I’d rather sleep in the desert than put up with any more shite from that PA.’

Bowman glanced at his colleague, fighting a strong urge to punch him in the face. Kember was beginning to really piss him off.

I’m trying to concentrate on the mission, he thought, and this guy is dragging me down with his constant negativity. If he keeps this up, I’ll give him a slap.

They waited several minutes. Kember tapped out messages on his phone, checking in with the two guys at Westminster Abbey. The advance party. A pair of experienced SAS sergeants, Lomas and Studley. Kember’s phone buzzed with incoming texts from the guys on the team, confirming that the location had been cleared and they were in position at the Abbey.

Bowman checked the time on his G-Shock Gravitymaster.

08.39.

A little over an hour since they had arrived at the Broxbury. Less than two hours until they were scheduled to leave for Westminster Abbey.

Six minutes later, the suite door swung open. Then Lungu stepped outside.

‘OK,’ she said. ‘Mr Seguma is ready to meet you now.’