And he listened.

The bullets continued to fly. A near constant stream, interrupted in intensity only by reloads. That fact alone pointed towards multiple shooters – some were still shooting while others reloaded – but Dempsey knew that already, from the angles of entry.

At least three.

He continued to listen. Counting the reload times.

Four.

A little longer. More reloads.

He opened his eyes and crawled towards Grace.

‘There’s five out front,’ he said. His tone left no room for doubt. ‘Which means two out back at least. Probably three. They’re waiting out there without firing a shot, to lure us in. To make us run out there into a crossfire.’

‘So what do we do?’

‘We run out there into a crossfire,’ Dempsey said. ‘Or at least that’s what they’ll think we’re doing.’

He moved without another word, keeping himself tight to the floor as he approached Shah’s body. Seconds later and he had stripped Shah of his utility jacket and his assault rifle. That done, he crawled to the insecure back door to the residence.

He signalled for Grace to join him, and to stay low as she moved.

‘What now?’ she asked as she came level.

‘We’re going to have a second. Maybe a second and a half.’

‘For what?’

The fire from the front of the house was less deafening at its rear. Still, it remained impossible to ignore as brickwork and pieces of structural support dropped all around them.

‘To spot the numbers and the locations of whoever they have out back,’ Dempsey explained, flicking stray mortar from the front of Grace’s hair, where it could obscure her vision. ‘There won’t be more than three of them, not when they’ve got five out front. They’ll be left and right. And maybe straight ahead, if there is a third.’

‘How do you know that?’

‘Perfect crossfire,’ Dempsey explained. He found himself ducking further as the angle of incoming firing seemed to change. ‘This is an ambush, so they’ve had time to do it right.’

‘What are you going to do?’

‘I’m going to wrap Shah’s rifle in his coat, and I’m going to jam the trigger with his knife. Then I’ll to throw it out there. They’ll think they’re seeing someone in a white coat, running out and firing. So they’ll fire back.’

‘For a moment,’ Grace added.

Dempsey moved his head aside as a bullet hit the wall behind him, sending brick fragments into the back of his neck.

‘It’s the best we can do,’ he said, feeling his neck for injury. ‘When I call three, you scan to the left. OK? Leave the front and the right to me. You just scan left.’

Grace nodded her head in confirmation.

She was nervous. Dempsey could see that. And she doubted her ability to do what he was asking. But she was still here, and she was willing to try.

And that was as much as Dempsey could ask.

He smiled once. And then he went to work.