Cruise liners and tourists were just too big and soft and tempting a target.

So within three minutes of the first shots, Guardia Civil officers were on scene at Málaga’s Eastern dock, and dead and wounded people were being carried away at a crouching run.

Within six minutes, two mini-buses carrying locally based Grupo Especial de Operaciones teams – the Policia Nacional SWAT men – screamed on to Pier 1.

The shooter, or shooters, had by now disappeared inside the vessel, so the GEO inspector-jefe sent three snipers to take up the best positions they could find, stuck another couple of men on the cordon as liaison, and then led the rest of his blokes charging up an empty gangway to get aboard.

Forty kilometres out into the Med, aboard the amphibious assault ship SPS Juan Carlos I, the twin rotors on a giant, black Boeing CH-47 Chinook helicopter were almost up to take-off speed.

In the rear of the aircraft were sixteen special forces marines from the Fuerza de Guerra Naval Especial.

Flight time to Málaga, a little under eight minutes.

And the final response came from down the coast at Marbella, where that town’s on-duty six-man detachment of Grupo Especiales de Operaciones special ops soldiers boarded their Eurocopter AS532 Cougar helicopter and lifted off, heading west.

Absolutely flat out, their aircraft was capable of around 140 knots. That gave them a flight time of around fourteen minutes, which disappointed the soldiers – they knew the Juan Carlos I had been patrolling through the Med not far from Málaga, and that its SF marines were already inbound.

Chances were the whole party would be over before they even got there.

But they pressed on regardless.

17.

JOHN CARR WAS not a patient man at the best of times, and now – just as those special forces troops from Marbella arrived over Málaga, sixty kilometres to the north-east – he finally cracked.

‘Hey, George,’ he said, leaning over on an elbow. ‘D’you fancy a pint? I’ve had enough of this.’

George Carr turned to look at his father, eyebrows raised, mocking grin on his face.

The expression said, very clearly, How can you have had enough of this?

‘Nah,’ he said. ‘I’m good, thanks.’

‘What about me?’ said Alice, pushing those mirror shades off her eyes and squinting up at her father.

‘I’d love to take you, sweetheart,’ said Carr, with his best attempt at sincerity. ‘But you’re under age. We can’t break the law, can we? Your mum’d kill me.’ He turned back to George. ‘I said, Do you fancy a pint?’ he said, with meaning. ‘The correct answer is, Yes, I do.’ He stood up. ‘Come on, I havenae brought my wallet.’

George chuckled. ‘There’s a fucking surprise,’ he said.

He stood, brushing sand off his back and elbows, and off his Union Jack swimming shorts.

‘Watch your language in front of your sister,’ said Carr. He looked at George’s shorts and shook his head in disdain. ‘No class whatsoever,’ he said. Then, innocently, ‘And have you put a bit of weight on, by the way? 3 Para must have softened up since my day.’