They swapped stories, Templar’s coarse, blunt appraisal of people in stark contrast to Shrek’s quiet and intelligent observations. Templar had a full-bore energy while Shrek came out of his shell to make a joke or a comment, but then pulled back. One of his friends was plucked from university and the other from the paratroopers. But each was excellent at their job. Shrek could read anyone and manipulate them into anything, and his mastery of kung fu and sword disciplines made his small stature one of the great traps for macho men. Templar was stronger than ten men and looked it. He was like a cyborg, and was hell to drink with.

‘What happened down there?’ Templar asked, when they were halfway into their second beers. They’d all given their Falcon debriefings and written reports, but the official finding—with all the stories woven into one—would come from Frasier’s office.

De Payns looked around and saw only locals. ‘We were on-mission until Commodore told me he wanted the passports with us when we went drinking.’

‘Why?’ asked Shrek, keeping his voice low.

‘He said Murad was in town and would pay three million euros for the passports,’ said de Payns.

Templar whistled low.

‘Fuck,’ said Shrek, shaking his head. ‘Murad, as in the Sayef Albar commander?’

De Payns nodded and his friends leaned in. ‘I thought it was worth the risk to get a look at him.’

‘Of course it was,’ said Templar, throwing the Jack Daniel’s down his throat without taking his eyes off de Payns. ‘So, which one was he?’

‘Shrek, you remember on the ferry, the last time Commodore took a piss?’

‘You poured your beer into the carpet,’ Shrek recalled.

‘Yes, that was the one,’ said de Payns. ‘I don’t know if you had the right angle to the WCs, but a tall guy—well dressed, maybe Pakistani—was at the WC door when Commodore came out.’

‘I didn’t see him. Was it contact?’ asked Shrek.

‘Couldn’t confirm it,’ said de Payns, not wanting to overreach. One of the first disciplines in the intelligence world was learning to identify things as they actually were rather than how you wanted them to be. He wasn’t going to let a couple of beers ruin that. ‘They may have swapped words but the tall Pakistani looked at me very briefly.’

‘Jesus Christ,’ said Shrek, leaning back and pushing his brown hair off his forehead. ‘So maybe they had us in Cagliari?’

‘Shit,’ said Templar, knowing a lot of that fell on him. ‘No fucking way.’

‘Don’t get carried away,’ said de Payns. ‘By the way, why did we call it off?’

‘Jerome was around the back of the bar, saw two Mercedes pulling up,’ said Templar. ‘It didn’t look friendly.’

‘Two?’ asked de Payns.

‘That’s what he said. They looked professional and armed. It looked like an ambush.’

De Payns nodded. ‘I made it one vehicle.’