Mickey nodded. Thinking. RAVEC, the committee whose secretive deliberations determined protection policy for past and serving politicians. Chaired by a “former senior civil servant”. A euphemism that fooled nobody with half an interest. And the major, with both a relevant regimental background and special forces experience.

‘You’re not just a private secretary, are you?’

‘No, Michael, I’m somewhat more than that.’ Cavendish nodded, stone-faced. ‘Let’s say that I’m in constant communication with the people dedicated to the security of this nation.’

Mickey was pretty sure that he knew exactly who the major was in communication with. And what information they were passing to him. Every phone call. Every email. And, he mused, a look inside Cavendish’s personal file would probably make fascinating reading. If it wasn’t redacted to the point of incomprehensibility.

RAVEC reported to the Home Secretary. The woman who also held the reins, however loosely, on MI5. And who, in the matter of a senior cabinet member, would put aside political rivalries and work closely with the Foreign Secretary. Who, in turn, controlled MI6. At least in theory.

‘OK, so now I know who you really are. And that I mention that fact to anyone else at my personal risk.’ Thanking his lucky stars that he’d been savvy enough to use a burner phone for the 999 call. ‘So what is it that has you… and the people in the background… so bothered by this trip?’

Cavendish lowered his voice. Subconsciously recognising the significance of what he was about to reveal.

‘What I am about to tell you is to go no further, Michael. I’m telling you because you won’t be able to do your job if I don’t. But you cannot tell your colleagues. Not unless the situation on the ground goes completely tits up. And you cannot tell your command structure. This is a matter of the utmost delicacy. And it carries significant security implications. National security. Either you can agree to that level of discretion, or—’

‘I understand, Major.’

The other man looked at him levelly for a moment, then nodded. ‘Very well. The minister has been tasked with making a very clear statement of intent to our rivals. By travelling to a country we have an interest in and making a speech to their national assembly. That country is Belize. You may be aware that it was the British armed forces that kept the country from being invaded by Guatemala in the 1970s and 80s. We pulled back from the country in 2010. Then went back in when Guatemala started getting uppity again a few years later. There’s a permanent training unit based in Price Barracks, only a dozen soldiers, but we rotate infantry companies in routinely for jungle acclimatisation. Which is a polite fiction to camouflage what’s effectively a rotating garrison arrangement.’

He pointed at the hulking airframe of an RAF Voyager transport plane squatting close to the terminal.