Bowman raced across the rooftop to the fire exit. As he hurried down the stairwell, he raised Mavinda on the radio and told him to send over half a dozen guys to meet him at the front of the estate. He ran down the second-floor corridor, past the heroic paintings of Seguma. Down the staircase. Through the front door.

The six Karatandan soldiers were waiting for him on the steps. Toothbrush, Pockmark and Lanky. Plus three others. Bowman led them over to the three mud-caked Land Rover Defenders parked to the left of the entrance. He got into the lead Defender with Toothbrush and Pockmark. The other four climbed into the second wagon. There was no need to mess around looking for the keys. Gregory had confirmed that they had been left inside the vehicles. Bowman gunned the engine and swung away from the mansion. He sheered around the grotesque fountain, the second Defender close behind as he sped towards the front of the estate four hundred metres away.

Bowman pulled up a few metres short of the stone-built archway, with the vehicle facing straight down the throat of the approach road. The second Defender halted two metres to the rear. Bowman left the engine running, engaged the parking brake and got out with Toothbrush and Pockmark. The four Karatandans debussed from the other Defender. They gathered around as Bowman gestured towards the clearing littered with the dead Machete Boys.

‘Spread out across there,’ he said. ‘Get into firing positions. You see anyone coming through that treeline or down the road, you shoot. Don’t hesitate.’

Toothbrush led his muckers across the clearing, dodging the broken bodies. Half of the soldiers fanned out and took up positions facing out to the woods. The others cleared the stretch of blacktop between the technical and the archway, dragging several corpses into the long grass either side of the road. Bowman circled round to the front of the Defender. He grabbed the metal hook from the end of the winch rope and walked the cable over to the technical, unspooling it from the drum. He looped the cable around the roll bar on the front of the truck, tested it, then jogged backed over to the Defender. Then he released the lever on the side of the drum and started winching in the technical.

The cable tensed as it hauled the pickup towards the stone arch. Bowman reeled in the winch wire until the technical was four metres from the arched entrance. He engaged the lever again, cupped his hands as he called out to the soldiers.

‘One of you, over here!’ he yelled. ‘Get inside the truck!’

Pockmark broke away from his mates and dashed across to the technical. He pulled open the door on the side of the front cab, dragged out the slotted driver, slid behind the steering wheel.