Leaning over, I saw that Toad’s hands were covered with filthy bandages, and that blood had seeped out of them and on to the floor. A couple of crunching snips cut though the chain and released him. Another severed the link between his cuffs. As his hands came free he gave a groan and tried to straighten his arms, but otherwise made no movement.

Pav wasn’t in quite such a bad way. He, too, felt cold as death, and his face was a mess, but when I released his hands he brought his arms to the front of his body and curled up like a child.

I hit my pressel switch and called, ‘Pat?’

There was a moment’s pause. Then, as he answered, his voice was almost drowned by a burst of small-arms fire.

‘We’ve found the hostages,’ I went. ‘In the basement. We’re going to evacuate them into the trees.’

‘Roger,’ he answered. ‘Carry on, and call in the choppers. We’re clearing the upper floors.’

‘Hypothermia,’ Paul was saying. ‘Both of them are in a bad way.’

Mentally, I was torn in two. One half of me wanted to stay with my injured mates and see them to safety. The other was burning to get up into the villa in search of Shark and grill him about where he’d sent the bomb.

I glanced round. Apart from me, there were five guys in the group: four to carry each casualty and one to cover them.

‘Get them out under the trees to start with,’ I said. ‘I’m going upstairs. See you in a minute.’

In the far corner of the store-room was a wooden door. A burst from the 203 shot hell out of the lock, and I ran up a bare concrete staircase; knowing that I should wait for back-up but driven on by pure aggression.

Another locked door, another burst.

I erupted into a large and brilliantly lit open area – the recreation floor, with a sauna room, exercise machines and a fair-sized pool, a small swimming pool or a king-size jacuzzi. There was pale wood everywhere, on the floor, the walls and the doors of the sauna and the cubicles. The change in temperature was phenomenal: in one step I’d gone from zero to tropical.

Somebody had been in the pool until a few seconds before. The water was still moving, and a trail of wet footmarks led to one of the cubicles. The door was closed, but beneath it I could see a pair of feet.

Rounds were still going down on the upper floors. Then a heavy explosion crashed off.

‘Come out!’ I yelled. ‘Get out of there!’

I stood off a few feet with my weapon levelled. ‘Come out or I shoot.’