Was he being over-cautious, he wondered, paranoid even? After all, Lithuania was supposed to be friendly territory. He knew it was a loyal NATO member with a small, largely symbolic, multinational battlegroup deployed to hold up the massed divisions of the Russian Army for about four and a half minutes, should Moscow ever decide to do a Crimea and reoccupy its former territory. But fieldcraft doesn’t stop at borders and Luke felt – both he and Jenny felt – there was something distinctly sinister about the burly sales director back in the factory. Jenny, they agreed, would stay in the hotel, working up her analysis on the stream of data coming in from Porton Down. As one of the agencies’ foremost authorities on chemical and biological weapons, there was no chance London was going to leave her in peace, especially on a job like this. Luke, it was decided, would meet the contact alone.

‘Two euros.’ The white-haired man in the ticket kiosk held up two fingers, then took Luke’s cash before letting him in through a turnstile. The doors hissed open to the tiny funicular railway cabin, empty save for a discarded fast-food carton lying on the floor.

The wind hit him the moment he stepped outside at the top. The magnificence of the view over the Old Town was largely lost on him as he shivered inside his jacket, his eyes watering with the cold. From far below came the distant hum of traffic. Luke stood with his back to the Old Town and quartered the ramparts and paving stones with his eyes, searching for his contact.

Of Janulis there was no sign, only a lonesome couple posing for a selfie, leaning against the stone walls of the Gediminas Tower, with fixed grins and an arm outstretched, the grand sweep of the Baltic capital laid out beneath them. A shaft of pale sunlight, low on the horizon, broke through the clouds, briefly illuminating the red-tile roofs and sparkling off the River Neris that coiled through the city, separating the Old Town from the modern high-rises to the north.

When he heard the crunch of a footstep on gravel behind him he whirled round. How had he missed that? Was he losing his edge? This person had come out of nowhere, catching him off-guard.

‘You are here for Janulis?’ She was a child, barely into her teens, her face half hidden by a frayed grey hoodie, but her voice was strong, with little trace of an accent.

‘Yes,’ Luke replied. ‘Is he with you?’

‘He couldn’t come,’ she said flatly. Luke frowned, making no attempt to hide his annoyance. He didn’t like this. It was starting to look like Janulis was playing games. And why send a child? She should not be mixed up in this. ‘He sent me instead,’ the girl said, ‘because he’s still getting you what you want.’

‘You’re his daughter?’