The DGSI ordered a public action to be conducted by Colonel Tibaut Jenssins. He ran GIGN, the tactical response unit of the French National Gendarmerie, based at Satory, south of Versailles. GIGN had a chemical–biological–nuclear ready-reaction role and were supposed to be the first responders. The GIGN unit would be supported by the Commandement des Opérations Spéciales—special forces—commanded by Colonel Laurent Francisci.

Claude Malle from the DGSI reluctantly allowed Briffaut’s DGSE to accompany the operation, but required they take up the rear and not join in.

‘You two, with me,’ said Briffaut, pointing to de Payns and Shrek.

As they left the SCIF, Lafont handed a printed photograph from the printer to de Payns.

‘You’re the only person in Western intelligence to have eyes on Murad. Is that him? In the background, white shirt, black tie.’

De Payns took the A4 page. The shot was of an Indian politician cutting a ribbon at a facility. In the background were three men, one of them standing out because of his height and well-groomed looks. He looked like a Pakistani Errol Flynn but without the moustache.

‘That’s the man I saw on the ferry,’ said de Payns, touching the page. He looked to the foot of the photo, where the caption included the name and title: Nasim ul-Huq—Chief Engineer, Rotterdam Associates.

‘We’ve got this fucker,’ said Lafont, retrieving the photo and moving to a phone.

They descended to the ground floor and walked into the armoury, where they checked out CZ handguns and 416 assault rifles. As de Payns took his ballistic vest, Templar arrived, a white cast across his nose and cheekbones.

‘Where’re we going?’ he asked.

‘Did Frasier assign you?’ asked Shrek.

‘You really think I’m letting you go alone?’

They suited up and ran to the lawn in front of the Bunker, where Briffaut stood beside Frasier, waiting for the helicopter to land.

‘Did I include you in this, Templar?’ asked Briffaut as the Caracal flared and aimed for the grass.

‘No, boss,’ said Templar, smiling through a bruised and battered face. ‘But who’s gonna pick up these ladies when they trip over their high heels?’

‘You’re injured—I can’t let you in the field.’

‘I’m fully recovered,’ said Templar. ‘Can’t you see?’

‘You take longer to get over a hangover,’ said Briffaut, shaking his head as the helicopter touched ground. ‘Fuck it, let’s go then.’

Frasier walked back into the Bunker to coordinate with DGSI. It was six minutes by chopper to the Saint-Cloud plant and en route Frasier patched them into a radio connection with Jenssins’ unit. De Payns could hear it in his helmet speakers.