He carried his Diemaco across the centre of his body, horizontal to the ground, sweeping the way ahead with the barrel. It looked almost casual, but everywhere the barrel went his eyes went too, and he was ready to engage without thought if necessary. The secret in any chance encounter was to be the man who initiated the contact, not the one reacting to it. If the enemy appeared, he intended to hit him hard and quick, to give himself and Kev the initiative while the targets were reeling from the weight of fire.

Every now and then, he stopped, raised the weapon to his shoulder, and looked through his night-sight.

Then, satisfied that all was clear, he moved forward again.

It took them twenty minutes to cover the five hundred metres to the target.

Once there, they took a knee and went firm again.

McMullen watched their rear, looking for anyone who might be following them up from behind.

Carr concentrated on the compound to their front.

He could see the top half of the main villa, which was in darkness. He kept his eye on the south-facing balcony and the flat roof in particular – he would certainly have put men up there – but he saw no-one in the green light of the night-sight.

He settled down to wait, and watch.

He had to consider the possibility that the quarry had already gone, but something – some indefinable feeling – told him that they had not.

Sure enough, a few minutes later, he heard the clang of metal, loud in the still night, as a bolt was pulled back to open the judas gate within the main steel gates to the compound.

Carr raised his weapon and put his eye to the scope, the darkness again turning to eerie light.

He watched as the gate opened inwards, and a man carrying an AK stepped out.

Instinctively, Carr laid the inverted yellow V of his sight on the centre of the man’s mass. He could just make out the dark shape of another man just beyond the gate, his left arm high and no doubt holding the bolt that had just been pulled back.

A few quiet words were exchanged, a laugh, and the gate was shut with an audible clang.

The guy on the outside looked right and then left, as though deciding which way to go, and then began walking along the perimeter wall towards Carr.

He looked fit and strong – a professional, if you could call him that – and he held his AK at the ready, and was wearing an equipment carrier loaded with what looked like spare magazines and a radio.

But there was something about the way he moved that told its own story to Carr’s experienced eye. The guy was well-trained, that was obvious, but he was going through the motions. That meant that they were reasonably comfortable here, and it also suggested that there was no imminent move.