He made sure his other mobile phone – a never-before-used burner – was set to silent after switching it on. Then he placed the phone on his desk, crossed his arms and stared at the screen. It soon flashed, +359 789 546 303 appearing on the screen.

‘Greetings, my child,’ said the Mahdi. ‘I take it all is in order?’ He listened to the reply. ‘Good,’ the Mahdi said. ‘Good. My son, it is time. Now, listen carefully. You have to dispose of the seller once he gives you the gun. Make sure it is loaded when he gives it to you; if not, you will have to load it yourself. Tell him you need to make sure it works, if he asks any questions. Shoot him once in the chest and once in the head.’

He paused and listened.

‘You have arranged to meet him at the Lake with the Lilies, as I directed?’

He waited for the reply.

‘Well, there should be no witnesses,’ he said. ‘Not there. Make sure you both wear your hoods in case, and just proceed as planned. Then go directly to the target. You should be in place and ready to perform your sacred duty at exactly 7 pm your time. Is everything clear?’

He listened.

‘Good,’ the Mahdi said. ‘I am proud of you, my boy. Proud of both of you. Remember to take the pills. They will help you in your mission. Do as I have instructed, as you have rehearsed. Leave no evidence, no trace. Call me when you have arrived at the target, ahead of the final phase. I will be expecting your call at 6.50 pm your time. Until then, Inshallah.’

THE phone came to life again at 3.50 am – 6.50 pm on 25 September in Sofia, Bulgaria.

Call taken, orders given, phone put away, he had to imagine the rest. The flash and the fire. The rubble and the ruin. He smiled, wide and proud. He noted but ignored his erection. The blinding flash of the detonator would be all they would see. They wouldn’t see the forcefield of rushing air, the bomb sucking all the oxygen in then spitting it out, or the tsunami of shrapnel and fire, but he could see all those things now.

He imagined the sirens, the honking horns, the hazmat suits. But mostly he pictured the church, reduced to rubble.

He smiled again.

Four down.

CHAPTER 23

Long Bay Correctional Complex, Sydney, NSW, Australia

JAX waited until his door was locked before pulling out his buy-up bag, which had been delivered that morning, Friday, as expected. He’d had plenty of time to think about it since Nikki’s visit – now six days ago – but he hadn’t changed his mind. He was doing this for Nikki. To save her. He didn’t care about himself. Or them.