He stood up and levelled his rifle at him.

‘Please,’ said the guy, holding up his hands in a futile defence. ‘No.’

‘I bet that’s what those two wee girls said before you stoned them to death,’ said Carr.

He put two rounds into the guy’s heart and walked away.

They took two or three minutes to photograph the corpses, and take whatever they could that might be of use to Justin Nicholls and MI6, and then Carr looked up at Fred West over on the ridge.

‘Fred, down here, mate,’ he shouted.

He turned to Kevin McMullen.

‘Burn that last vehicle, Kev,’ he said. ‘Then let’s mount up and go.’

As McMullen went about the task, Carr looked at Skelton.

‘What do you reckon to that?’ he said. ‘Are they in Sirte, or have they fucking flown already?’

‘I dunno what to make of it, mate,’ said Skelton. ‘He obviously knows the main man. But he was fucking terrified. If he’d known, he’d have told you.’

Carr nodded.

He thought for a moment.

Then he said, ‘I’ll notify Nicholls at my next SITREP. See if he’s got anything new. Until then, we’ll just carry on as planned.’

A few minutes later they were moving east again.

Behind them, three columns of dirty, oily smoke rose into the late afternoon sky, and the first vulture landed a few feet from a shape on the ground.

So much sudden death in this part of the world: even the wildlife knew the signs.

The bird cocked its head on one side, and then cautiously approached.

It flew off, croaking in alarm, as the first few rounds started cooking off in the back of one of the trucks.

But it circled round and soon landed again, at a safe distance.

And there it stood, watching through cruel eyes, waiting for the fires to die out.

Chapter 83.

83.

IT WAS NEAR DUSK and a hundred klicks from the contact before Carr stopped, so that they could get some food, stretch their legs, and battle-clean their weapons.

While Fred West got the brews on, and Geordie busied himself with his Minimi, Carr sent his SITREP to Nicholls.

He detailed their present location, and passed on the identities and photographs of the dead Brummies and their comrades, and the intelligence he had gained from them – all information which would be shared with the Met’s Counter Terrorist Command and MI5 within half an hour.

He finished by highlighting the possibility that the Chechens might already have moved on from Sirte.

It was acknowledged, with a brief note of thanks, but no new information came back.

Then Carr stood to their rear, staring back the way they’d come.