The aircraft was taxiing for the runway before Mickey had his belt fastened. Pondering the significance of Sutherland having completely blanked him as he’d walked past. The pilots throttling up to get airborne as soon as the turn onto the landing strip was complete. The Voyager’s engines screamed, hurling the massive aircraft into as fast a climb as possible. Lifting the vulnerable transport out of man portable anti-aircraft missile range. With, Mickey presumed, its defensive aids suite ready to spit chaff and flares if needed.

Once the climb-out was complete Cavendish got out of his seat and beckoned to Mickey. Gesturing to a row of seats at the rear of the front cabin.

‘Sir Patrick is furious. I had to tell him about the events of last night. Better he finds out now than when MI6 decide to brief him. And I’m afraid we’re both somewhat the focus of his ire.’

Mickey nodded, grim-faced. Having guessed where this was going.

‘No shit. We didn’t tell him that the Chinese were trying to assassinate him. And now he’s thinking that if he’d known, it could all have been different.’

‘Exactly. And he’s been busy on his telephone. I’m to be the subject of a departmental investigation led by the permanent secretary’s tame hatchet man. And you, I’m afraid, are off his team. He “doesn’t want to see your face again”. Your colleagues can drive us back to the Hall; you and Constable Harris will just have to go back to London. I’m sorry, Michael, we both seem to be somewhat in the shit.’

Mickey thought for a moment. ‘And presumably none of this can be divulged to my management?’

‘It’ll get out, eventually. But no, I doubt that SIS are going to want it made public that they’ve been running hit teams on foreign territory. It’s a bit like masturbation I suppose. Everyone does it, but nobody ever owns up to it.’ He sighed. ‘The best-laid plans of mice and men, eh? I’ll have a word with a couple of people when I can get a minute to myself once we’re back on the ground. See if I can mitigate the damage for you.’

Mickey nodded. Wondering what he was going to be walking into the next morning.

‘OK. I’ll brief my guys accordingly. And then I think I’m going to need a beer.’