‘Did you tell him the date?’ said Carr.

‘No,’ said Morgan. ‘But he could have found that out easily enough from Chambers.’

‘Jesus,’ said Kevin McMullen.

He turned to John Carr. ‘So what do we do with him? Shoot the cunt?’

Charlotte Morgan stepped forwards. ‘You can’t do that,’ she said. ‘It would be murder.’

‘See that body bag over there?’ said McMullen, stabbing with a finger. ‘One of his mates put my mate inside it. Never mind the rest of it.’

‘And he should answer for that,’ said Morgan, shakily. ‘That’s exactly why we need to get him back to the UK. So that he can stand trial, and be punished for whatever crimes he’s committed.’

‘Fucking lawyers,’ spat McMullen. ‘Punished for his crimes? A hundred and fifty people murdered, and he gets a comfy cell and three squares a day, for the rest of his life? You’re fucking joking.’

‘If you shoot him, I’ll inform the police,’ said Charlotte Morgan, defiantly, hands on her wasted hips. ‘Kevin, please. I’ll forever be grateful to you for what you’ve done for me and for Martha – forever. I’m so sorry about your friend. But I can’t stand by and watch you murder a helpless man. I’m sorry, but I just can’t.’

McMullen stared at her, his face angry.

‘Shut up and listen in, the pair of you,’ snapped Carr. ‘Depending what comes back from London, I’ll decide what we do with him.’ He turned to Charlotte. ‘And believe me, it won’t be good for Mr Mahsoud if it turns out he’s bullshitting us.’

‘But…’

‘I said listen, not talk,’ said Carr. ‘You’ve got your morals, I get it. But there’s a time and a place for morals. We’re a long way from home, now. We’re a long way from fucking civilisation. And whatever happens here, stays here. Unless you want your mum standing in the dock alongside us. Is that clear?’

Charlotte took a moment, and then nodded.

She didn’t look happy about it, but Carr didn’t much care about that. It wasn’t his job to make people happy.

‘We’ve risked our lives for you, and Fred’s given his. Don’t you ever threaten us again. Okay?’

He looked down at the unconscious Mahsoud.

‘Mind, this doesn’t make fucking sense,’ he said. ‘He saved my life. That fat, bearded cunt was a millisecond away from brassing me up. Why would he do that if he’s one of them?’

Morgan and McMullen were silent.

‘Ah, who gives a shit?’ said Carr, eventually. ‘There’s fuck all he can do to us now. Kev, get that brew and scoff sorted.’

He turned and walked back to the laptop.

A message was waiting for him.

It said, ‘MAHSOUD: treat as team member, include in any extraction plan.’

Well. Maybe he was telling the truth?