They were all nervous. Max could tell. Even Sami and Abby, normally so chatty, were subdued and silent as they sat at breakfast. Martha watched over them sternly. Max had muscle pain from yesterday’s shooting, but there was no way he would mention that to the severe matron. He knew what was good for him.

They filed quietly out of the house and on to the parade ground, where the Watchers were waiting for them. The sky was blue. Though some snow remained on the mountain slopes to either side, conditions had markedly improved. A white minibus was parked up on the parade ground. Six rucksacks were lined up in front of it. Next to each rucksack was an M16 assault rifle, identical to the one they had fired the previous day. The rucksacks looked heavy.

They were heavy. Before speaking, Hector lifted one. He was a strong guy, but he clearly didn’t find the rucksack easy to lift. He dropped it. It landed solidly on the ground with a thump.

‘You each have a twenty-five-kilogram pack,’ he announced. ‘They’re filled with gear that a soldier might be expected to carry with them in the field – medical packs, rations, ammunition boxes, dry clothes, paracord.’

Sami put up his hand. Hector looked frustrated. ‘You’re not at school, Sami. What is it?’

‘Please, what is paracord?’

‘Light nylon rope, used for suspension lines in parachutes. Very useful in the field. When I tell you, you will strap your pack to your back. You’re free to take it off at any time, but if you do, you’ve failed selection.’ He gave each of them a harsh look. ‘You will also all carry a rifle. These are unloaded, so no funny business.’ Hector’s gaze fell momentarily on Lukas as he said this. ‘The march is fifteen kilometres. Its route takes you along the valley floor, past the range, through an area of dense forest.’ He looked over his shoulder at the minibus. ‘Angel and I will skirt around the forest to get to the finish line quickly, but you are not allowed to. Remember, this is not a navigation exercise. Your way will be marked by flags. All that matters is speed and endurance. You will leave at ten-minute intervals. The slowest recruit will leave us tonight. The remainder will be badged as Special Forces Cadets. Are there any questions?’

Hector didn’t look like he really wanted to field questions from anybody. There were none.

‘Angel and I will set off now for the finish line. Woody will give you your marching orders.’

Hector turned his back on them and climbed behind the wheel of the minibus. Angel hesitated. ‘Good luck, everyone,’ she said, before getting into the passenger seat.