The journey back took fifteen silent minutes. Max’s ankle throbbed. His anger failed to subside. He was still fuming as they disembarked at the parade ground and lined up at Hector’s instruction. The Watcher looked at them all in turn. ‘You’ve done well,’ he said. ‘Most of you, at least. Does anybody want to hand in their beret?’ His eyes lingered briefly on Max. Max thought about doing it. Better to resign than to undergo the humiliation of being failed. But something stopped him. If there was just the smallest chance of success … Hector cleared his throat. ‘All right. Those of you who’ve made it will be badged as Special Forces Cadets. Those of you who haven’t will be going home.’

Max looked along the line. Lukas, Abby, Sami, Jack, Ash and him. Six recruits. They’d been told that only five would make it. One of them was about to receive bad news. Max had a pretty good idea who that would be.

‘Lukas,’ Hector said. ‘You’ve impressed. Strength and endurance are good. Weapon handling skills are excellent. You think quickly and well. You’re through.’

Lukas exhaled heavily. His shoulders seemed to relax.

‘Sami. You fire a weapon better than I do, and that’s saying something. You think on your feet, and you’re stronger and fitter than you look. You’re in.’

Sami smiled broadly. Then he looked sideways at Max and the smile fell away.

‘Abby, good work. We’d have liked more girls. You were the only one who made the standard. You’re joining us.’

Abby clenched her fist triumphantly and muttered something under her breath. Angel smiled at her.

‘Jack, I’m not going to lie. For you it was touch and go. Your performance today dragged you over the line, but you’re going to have to work hard. Welcome to the Special Forces Cadets.’

Jack had clearly only heard the good, not the bad. A self-satisfied expression spread over his face.

The four successful cadets had stepped back from the line. It was just Ash and Max left. Two recruits. One place left. Hector avoided their eyes as he consulted his notebook.

‘Ash,’ he said.

Max felt his stomach twist.

Hector continued to stare at his notebook for a moment, then he looked up. ‘I’m sorry, mate,’ he said. For the briefest moment, the older man looked regretful, even human. ‘You were too slow today. Your weapons handling was so-so and you’ve been in the middle of the pack all along. We have to send you home.’

Ash hung his head. He looked genuinely crestfallen. Max felt for him. But he also felt a moment of elation. Because if Ash was out …