Walking on, he came across the little guest house where he’d stayed before. A number of other hotels seemed to have sprouted up in the area to cater for the growing tourist trade; but Wolf preferred solitude and elected to journey up into the hills and find a suitably sheltered and private spot to set up camp. He had no problem living rough during the warmer season, though with the perpetual glaciers of the Pyrenees not far away he knew that the winters would get cold up here. Over the coming months he might scout around for a remote rural property for rent, or spend a portion of his cash on a little patch of land where he might build a small, simple home for himself. Maybe he’d keep a few chickens, or a goat or two, and grow his own vegetables. Learn to speak the language better, so he could fit in with the locals. Maybe take up the guitar, something he’d always wanted but never got around to.

But all that was for the future. There was no rush. No pressure. All the time in the world. Such money as he had, though by no means a fortune, would carry him a very long way here. Wolf was free to go where he pleased, do as he wished, and he no longer answered to anyone. He’d never felt so happy. Not even the joy of achieving SAS selection, until then the crowning glory of his life, could compare with the sense of liberation that flooded his mind. It was almost enough to make him forget the terrible things he’d seen and done in his life.

Almost. The nightmare of the human sacrifice on the island – because that was exactly what he believed he’d witnessed, just days ago – would remain with him for as long as he lived. He never wanted to think about those filthy bastards again, though he would, over and over.

Wolf stopped, set down his bag and shielded his eyes with his hand to scan the rugged landscape. To the east of Albarracín rose a high rocky escarpment that his instinct and training told him would be a perfect place to make camp for the night. He could seek out a little hollow, an eagle’s nest, from which he could see for miles and observe the sleepy little town. If he discovered the perfect spot, he might stay there for weeks. From time to time he could venture back down to civilisation, when he needed provisions or fancied another tasty meal at La Taba.

Heaven. It already felt as though he was putting down roots here in his new home. Smiling to himself, Wolf shouldered his bag and set off on what would be a long, hot, dusty trek up into the hills.