The sun climbed higher above the hills. Bowman wiped sweat from his brow and scanned the west flank. He saw nothing except the palm grove, the long grass swaying in the faint early-morning breeze. Around him the other guys were watching their individual observation points, glancing at their watches and taking gulps from their water bottles. Mallet smoked a cigarette. Webb took a piss in the far corner of the rooftop. Loader bit into an apple and spat it out, a disgusted look on his face.

‘Shit’s rotten.’ He threw the core away. ‘Tell you what. Them guys in D Squadron had better have some good rations on them. Been ages since I had a decent meal.’

Mallet gave him a disgusted look. ‘You stuffed your face on the jet, you greedy bastard.’

‘A few protein bars, some crisps and sandwiches. That’s hardly what I call a slap-up feast, John. I’m talking about a nice lamb roast with all the trimmings. Like what my Mary cooks. She doesn’t hold back on the portions, either.’ He licked his lips. ‘Best food in Wales, that,’ he added wistfully.

‘She’d better be a good cook. She’s feeding half the fucking country, what with all the kids you’ve got.’

Webb said, ‘What’s the plan once D Squadron gets in?’

Mallet said, ‘No reason for us to hang around. Once we’ve made the handover, our job is done. We’ll wait for clearance from Six to fly out. With a bit of luck, we’ll be back home this evening.’

‘Not a moment too soon,’ said Loader. ‘Give me Swansea over this place any day of the week.’

‘Or anywhere that’s not a war zone,’ Webb added. He shook his head bitterly. ‘I was told I’d be wearing civvies and carrying a PKK when I transferred to the Cell. Fighting drug barons and running surveillance jobs. Now look at us.’

Mallet laughed cynically. ‘Thought you’d be used to it, Patrick. All those years you spent in the SRR and the Rifles regiment.’

Bowman looked curiously at Webb. ‘You were in the Rifles?’

‘Five years. First Battalion. Sniper team.’

So that’s why the guy is so good with a sniper rifle, thought Bowman.

‘Why’d you join them, mate?’ he asked.

Webb stared evenly at him. ‘I had a choice,’ he said softly. ‘The army, or prison.’

‘Fuck me. What did you do?’

He looked away.

‘Long story,’ he said. ‘Another time.’

‘Let’s just focus on getting out of here alive,’ said Mallet. ‘We’re not safe yet. Those Boys might fancy another crack at us before they raise the white flag.’