It wasn’t an ideal test, but Carr had marked out enough strips and the ground seemed firm enough.

Satisfied, they all pushed out to an area about 300 metres south and parked up.

It was now midnight.

Carr stepped out of his vehicle and took out his satphone.

After a couple of rings the phone was answered.

‘John,’ said Justin Nicholls, his voice full of tension. ‘How is it?’

‘Good to go,’ whispered Carr.

‘How are the girls?’ said Nicholls.

‘Bearing up. But it’s fucking tough for both of them.’

‘And Mahsoud?’

‘Still in the land of the living, just.’

‘You guys okay?’

‘Fuck me, Justin,’ said Carr, with a grin. ‘You’ll be asking me what the weather’s like next, and what my plans are for the weekend. The strip’s good to go, we’ll be in place at H hour minus ten, and the area is quiet. Tell the blokes in the back that we’re two vehicles to the south. I don’t want some new guy lighting us up as they come off.’

There was a momentary static hiss as Nicholls made a careful note.

Then he said, ‘Okay, John, understood. Great job, the PM is ecstatic.’

‘Let’s get us out of here, first,’ said Carr. ‘We can worry about my bonus later.’

‘Bonus?’

‘I’m fucking joking. Let’s get the bird warned off, see you in the morning.’

‘Okay, mate,’ said Nicholls, some of the tension gone from his voice. ‘Take care.’

‘Mate?’ said Carr, to himself, as he closed down the satphone.

He stowed it in his truck, walked to the other vehicle, and leaned in to look at Charlotte Morgan.

She was awake, and staring into space. ‘Three hours, darlin’,’ he said. ‘Your transport home is arranged, and will be taking off shortly.’

‘Thank you,’ she said, in a small voice.

Carr had a quick glance at Zeff Mahsoud – he was motionless, and his breathing was raspy and shallow – and then walked over to McMullen and Skelton, who were scanning the surrounding land through their sights.

‘Geordie, keep watch,’ he said. ‘Kev, me and you are going to sanitise the vehicles and bag up everything that needs to go home – weapons, comms, et cetera. We’ll stick the bags in my wagon and get the spare fuel ready. Soon as the bird lands and turns, we torch the vehicles.’

‘Roger,’ said McMullen.

The two men set to work. It took them an hour, working slowly and methodically in the dark, and when it was done they sat back and waited.

From time to time, Carr glanced at his Casio, but he knew that patience was key. Watching the minutes tick by wasn’t going to add fifty knots to the A400’s airspeed.

Slowly, slowly, time moved on.

At 02:40, he turned to the other two men.