Mickey and Wade walked the minister into the building without incident. Merging into the background as he took the podium and addressed a selection of the national assembly’s representatives. Delivering a short but passionate speech touching on free speech, democratic rights and strength of collective defence.

All of which went down well with the assembled politicians. The same news crew that had broadcast their arrival recording the whole thing. Mickey realised that the speech had been exquisitely crafted to avoid gifting any verbal own goals to the other side of the argument. And, if nowhere near starting to relax, he sensed that the tension levels around the visit were subtly lowering.

Emerging into the sunlight he was about to usher Sir Patrick into the front vehicle again. But was prevented from doing so by the Belizean minister of defence and army commander. The two men flanking Sir Patrick and gesturing to the rearmost Land Rover. After a brief discussion. Cavendish turned to Mickey with a knowing smile.

‘It seems that these two gentlemen would very much like a few minutes with the minister on the way to the airport. I’m guessing this is their last chance to lobby for even more British support, and they don’t intend to miss the opportunity. I think they intend pointing out that the airport has a very long runway. Quite possibly wondering if the RAF would like to send its Typhoons to visit every now and then.’

Mickey thought for a moment. Then shrugged.

‘Why not? It’s a nice piece of sleight of hand. If he rides in the back of the rear Landie with them, Wade and I can double up in the front. James and Franklin can go in the rear Jeep as passengers. And the locals can fill the rest of the spaces with soldiers, make them look occupied. That’ll work.’

With the convoy’s occupants shuffled to match his hastily amended plan, the lead Land Rover led them out onto the street. Motorcycle outriders clearing a path through the traffic with a no-nonsense approach. Wade steering the Land Rover round the most obvious potholes. The two men exchanged wry grins at the state of the road.

‘We might as well be in Croydon.’ Mickey hanging on to the door handle as Wade navigated around another crater. ‘Once we’re onto the Northern Highway the ride ought to get smoother. We can only hope the guys in the back aren’t getting too rough a—’

The windscreen was suddenly opaque, the heavy Land Rover shuddering as a blast wave hammered across it. Wade braked to a halt, his vision completely obscured. Mickey reacted as he’d been trained. A small part of him waiting for the shooting to start.

‘Get the glass out!’