‘No one’s buying it, anyway,’ Mallet said. ‘They’re more likely to believe in the fairy godmother than Tiny’s powers of attraction.’

The team filed into the private lounge. Ten seconds later, Mallet’s mobile rang. He wandered over to the kitchen area on the far side of the lounge and spoke to Six for several minutes. The voice on the other end appeared to have a lot to say. Mallet listened and said little except occasional one-word replies. Yes. No. OK. He hung up, marched back over and cleared his throat.

‘The diplomats are heading to Northolt right now,’ he said. ‘The jet’s due to leave in thirty minutes. Which means it’ll get here for around two thirty. We’ll take off at three o’clock.’

‘What’s the itinerary?’ asked Casey.

‘We’ll fly direct to Libreville. Once we land, we’ll transfer to another aircraft and head straight to Karatandu. An hour-long flight. We’re scheduled to land at the main airport outside the capital at around eleven o’clock. From there it’s a direct run to the palace.’

‘What about me?’ Seguma said, his mock-English aristocrat voice burning with indignation. ‘I have been told nothing about my arrangements.’

Mallet said, ‘A team from the Gabonese special forces will meet you on the ground in Libreville, sir. They’ll escort you and the guys from the Foreign Office to a secure location. You’ll wait there until it’s safe to return.’

‘And who gets to decide when it is safe, exactly? You cannot expect me to go back while there are still rebels running amok on the ground.’

‘That’s for you to discuss with the Foreign Office. Nothing to do with us.’

Bowman said, ‘We need someone who can get us to the palace. Someone who knows all the army checkpoints and hotspots.’

‘Six agrees,’ Mallet replied. ‘There’s a military garrison at the airport. They’ll accompany us to the palace.’

‘What’s the score with D Squadron?’

‘They’re returning to their camp now. Three Hercs are being prepared.’

‘And the other SF units?’

‘SFSG is due to fly out of their base in St Athan in a few hours. The SBS detachment will leave Poole at around the same time. They’ll fly straight down to Libya and link up with D Squadron. Then the combined strike force will head on to the capital, Marafeni. Should get in at six o’clock tomorrow morning. Six hours after we land.’

Bowman pressed his lips together in a tight line. ‘The timing is tight, John.’

‘That’s assuming the Russians are on schedule,’ Mallet said. ‘Right now, we’ve got those bastards on the back foot. They’ll be wondering why the deal Lang brokered has collapsed at the last minute. They’ll hear about his suicide and ask themselves what it means. It’ll mess with their planning.’

‘Or the opposite,’ Bowman said. ‘They might accelerate the coup.’