Jia knew that Idris wasn’t alone in his anger. Tensions were rising among her people. The wives of the men who had been hurt in the latest attacks were calling Pukhtun House to speak to her. Having a woman at the helm of the Khan family gave them the courage to make direct requests. The sisterhood was growing.

So Jia had gathered her most trusted men together. As well as her cousins, Bazigh Khan was there, the only one of her father’s colleagues to be invited, being trusted by both Jia and the Jirga. And despite his not being family, Michael’s presence had also been requested. Benyamin watched quietly from a corner of the room. Since his injuries had healed, he’d been pushing for more operational involvement and he had earned his place. They stood in Akbar Khan’s study awaiting her direction.

‘We must make a final decision today about how we want to resolve this,’ she told them, ‘and follow it through. Now is the time to exact badal.’

The Jirga had displayed uncharacteristic patience in their wait for badal. The returns from The Company had filled their gaping mouths and satisfied their greed; but it also meant they had allowed their old patch to fall to the side in favour of the bigger money. While they had been eating at the table, the dogs had taken their tossed-aside bones and turned them into a feast. Revenge had been placed in the cooler long enough; it was time to serve it up. The attacks on their territory reignited their demand and they had sent a message telling Jia that her time was running out. She must act.

Jia had spent much time contemplating her options before calling this meeting. Men had been sent to gather information about Nowak’s plans. Foot soldiers had brought back intelligence that pointed to a massive haul by the gang, one so lucrative that it would allow the Brotherhood to solidify their hold on the city. Nowak was planning on selling his stash and was counting on Jia Khan’s ignorance to get away with it.

‘We know when Nowak and his men are meeting the buyers,’ Idris said. ‘We’ve fixed it so that the buyer is one of our men. He’s from the Newcastle zai. We know the guys will be driving a black Beamer and we know where they intend to make the drop. The money and goods will be exchanged at the same time, at a service station thirty miles from here. We have arranged for police to be thin on the ground.’

‘Michael, who is in charge of our cars?’ Jia said. The medical student had become one of the most trusted members of the group.

‘That would be Fat Bob,’ said Michael. Jia raised an eyebrow. ‘That’s his name,’ he added. ‘I can’t do anything about it!’