‘Open wide,’ said Hassad, tapping his shoulder.

Porter felt certain he could detect a hint of pleasure in the man’s voice.

‘Is she a dentist?’ he asked, glancing back at Hassad.

‘In a tiny village like this, you have to be a bit of everything, ’ Hassad replied. ‘Don’t worry, yours aren’t the first teeth she’s examined.’

He could feel a spatula pressing down his tongue, the cold steel pressing into his flesh, and then winced slightly as she started tapping on his teeth. Her breath was warm on his skin as she worked: a mixture of goat’s milk and stewed fruits filled the air around him. Next, she started prodding them with a scalpel, nicking his gums in the process.

She paused, looking up at Hassad, talking quickly in Arabic.

‘Two of the crowns feel odd to her,’ said Hassad quietly.

‘Meaning?’

‘There may be some kind of tracking device inside them.’

‘In a tooth?’

Hassad nodded. ‘I’ve heard of it before, but I’ve never seen it done.’ He shook his head, in sorrow as much as anger. ‘Usually you can’t put a tracker inside a tooth because the tooth blocks out the signal, but if you use a mostly hollow crown then it’s possible, although the signal is never great.’

‘What can we do?’

‘Pull it out and take a look, of course.’

Porter looked at the old woman suspiciously. ‘Can she do that?’

‘If there’s a tracker, the guys from Connaught are going to find us anytime soon, and they’ll almost certainly finish us off before we get to the border.’

He said something to the old woman, then looked back at Porter. ‘You’re not scared, are you?’

His deformed lips twisted up into a mocking smile.

‘I don’t suppose there’s any chance of an anaesthetic is there?’

Hassad rolled his eyes.

‘How about a shot of vodka then?’

‘Just do it,’ said Hassad to the old woman. ‘Open your mouth and shut up. Every minute we waste you may be transmitting signals back that tell Collinson exactly where we are. For all we know, they are preparing their assault right now.’

‘Then get on with it.’

Porter gripped the sides of the chair. He closed his eyes, and opened his mouth. He could smell the stewed fruit washing over him as the old woman leant into his face. She said something to Hassad, and he replied, but Porter couldn’t make out a single word. She tapped one tooth then another with a scalpel: two of the teeth that had been replaced for him back at the Firm’s headquarters. Porter could feel a clamp being placed inside his mouth to hold it open, then a wrench being screwed on to one of his teeth. Hassad knelt down, pressing a strip of leather into Porter’s hand. ‘Here, pull on this,’ he said quietly.

Don’t yell, he told himself grimly.

The woman yanked at the wrench. Porter could feel a bolt of pain jabbing right through him as the nerves attaching the tooth to the jaw screamed out in agony. It was like having a needle threaded straight into your veins. There was a crunching sound, then the scratching of metal against bone. Porter gripped hold of the strip of leather, twisting it into his hand, trying to keep the pain under control.