I was alongside him in an instant. There, in the back of the van, glinted a single, big, black object: Orange, with its two components united. From one corner, wires led to a red box just inside the rear doors.

My breath had gone. I hit my pressel and croaked, ‘Red leader, we’ve found it. In Number Three garage. Locked inside a van.’

‘DON’T TOUCH ANYTHING!’ snapped a deep voice I didn’t know. ‘ATO here. We’re on our way. Leave everything alone. Get clear of the site.’

We pushed back along the side of the van, trying not to rock it. In the doorway I looked up at the back of Markham Court, convinced that someone must have eyes on the site. More black-clad guys were hovering in the mews, hanging back from the target in uncharacteristic fashion. Their instincts were the same as mine – to go in and smash the timing device immediately. My watch said 1.13: we were within eight minutes of detonation. But they’d heard the ATO tell them to keep their distance, and they were wondering what the hell to do. It wasn’t in our nature or training to run away – and in any case, there didn’t seem much point. If the thing was about to go off, we’d never get far enough to make any difference.

What we did was to hustle back as far as the main road and tuck ourselves round the front of the apartment block, out of line of sight from the open garage doors. I tried to say something to the QRF guy, but words didn’t come, my heart was pumping that fast.

This is fucking ridiculous! I thought. You get round the corner when you’re cracking off an ordinary explosion. If this thing goes, we’ll all be vapour and the building will simply vanish.

There wasn’t long to wait or worry. Within seconds a van came screaming down the street. Its tyres squealed as it scorched round the corner into the mews and slid to a halt in front of the garage. Out jumped two men clad in white over-suits from head to toe, like astronauts. Each carried a heavy-looking hold-all full of kit.

‘ATO on target,’ the deep voice reported. ‘Stand by.’

The lock on the van’s rear doors held them up for all of five seconds. They flung the doors open and both leant in, on top of the live device, backs to us, reaching forward with their gloved hands. Fifty yards off, in full view, I stood transfixed, holding my breath. If it goes, I kept thinking, will I see the flash in the final split-second of life, or will the shock wave be too fast even for that?