His Scottish accent grew more pronounced as he warmed to his subject. Bowman listened as he went on.

‘The world has changed, Josh. The desk jockeys in Whitehall like to say that we’re no longer living in a unipolar world. What they really mean is that the rules of the game have been thrown out of the window and we’re in a free-for-all. Traditional state spies are no longer the main threat. It’s not from terrorist groups, either. Some nutter mowing down a few civvies in a truck is a tragedy, but it’s not a serious threat to national security. No,’ Mallet added, ‘these days, it’s all about mobs and big business, working together.’

‘Like Russia, you mean?’

‘Exactly. We all know that Russia isn’t a country, not anymore. It’s a mafia state run by organised crime groups, oligarchs and the security services. Those guys aren’t interested in ideology or state spycraft, and they’re not looking to go toe-to-toe with the West in some direct military confrontation. Bad for business. They’re only interested in lining their own pockets. Their motivation is pure greed.’

‘They don’t sound much different from the gangs in Romford, mate.’

‘Amateur thugs. Small-time crooks,’ Mallet said with a sneer. ‘These guys are different. They’re a cut above your average criminal. And it’s not just the Russians, either. This is a global problem. Everywhere you look, organised mob networks have infiltrated governments. Central America. Eastern Europe. Africa, Asia. In some places they’ve taken complete control. We’re dealing with a whole new criminal elite. These guys pose a serious threat to our interests, at home and abroad. That is why the Cell was created. To fight the criminal groups threatening our security.’

Bowman noticed a hard gleam in Mallet’s eyes. He thought: This man hates mobsters. He hates them almost as much as I do.

‘What has all of this got to do with me?’ he asked.

Mallet thrust a hand into his jacket pocket and plucked a cigarette out of a crumpled packet, lowered the window. He looked at Bowman. ‘Do you mind?’

‘My mother smoked forty a day. She died of lung cancer.’

‘I agree. It’s a terrible habit.’

Mallet sparked up. He sucked in a deep lungful of air, blew it out through the open window.

Bowman waited for him to continue.

‘We’re being given the green light for a hard arrest,’ Mallet said at last. ‘It’s a fastball operation, and it’s going to happen soon. I can’t go into any details at the moment. There’s a briefing later – if you accept our offer. But if you agree to join us, there’s no going back. Once you’re in, you’re in.’

‘Who’s the target?’ asked Bowman.