Behind him, McMullen moved towards the man he’d shot, who was thrashing noiselessly around on the ground, and placed the barrel of his Diemaco to the man’s forehead. The guy actually pressed upwards against the hot steel, almost gratefully, embracing his end as Kev pulled the trigger.

McMullen patted the two women down, looking for weapons in their shapeless clothing. Once he was happy that they posed no threat, he quickly cleared the rest of the room.

When he got to the corner near Carr, he turned.

‘Suicide vest,’ he said.

Twelve seconds.

‘Aye,’ said Carr. ‘They…’

But just then, the girl sat up, and pointed at the man he’d shot.

‘Shoot that bastard!’ she yelled. ‘Shoot him! Shoot him!’

‘Stay down,’ shouted Carr, holding out his hand, palm up. ‘He’s already dead. Stay the fuck down, and shut up.’

But the girl ignored him, and stood up.

McMullen turned, hand to her chest, and pushed her firmly back onto the bed.

‘Stay down,’ he barked. ‘And be fucking quiet.’

‘Shoot him,’ she said, more quietly.

‘He’s fucking dead,’ said Carr.

Behind him, he became aware of the sound of the other woman, wailing.

Over his shoulder, Carr said, ‘For fuck’s sake, Kev, shut her up, will you?’

But McMullen, on that side of the room, was already grabbing her by the shoulders.

‘You’re okay,’ he said, staring into her eyes. ‘We’re here to help, but you’ve got to be quiet.’

The screaming continued, so McMullen slapped her hard across the face.

She shut up.

For the first time since they had entered the room there was silence.

Apart from the cacophony of the firefight going on outside.

‘Which one of you is Charlotte Morgan?’ said Carr.

No reply.

He looked at the nearest of them.

‘Which one’s Charlotte?’ he said, louder.

‘I am,’ she said. ‘It’s me.’

‘And that’s Martha?’ said Carr.

‘Yes. Did he have to slap her?’

Carr looked down at her.

It was too dark – and she was too skinny and dirty and bedraggled – for him to positively identify her, but he’d heard her voice and knew that it was her.

Tough little fucker, worrying about her mate, with all this shit going on around her, and after all they’d been through.

‘He did,’ he said. ‘We need to get out of here, and you girls need to listen in. It’s not over yet.’

As he spoke, there was a loud bang outside – the sound of Fred West setting off the Claymore positioned outside the front door to the main building.

That meant men had been coming through.

And he could hear the distinctive sound of the Minimis, and the duration of the bursts was increasing, as Geordie and Fred attempted to gain the upper hand and win the firefight.