The suspense was excruciating. I felt the whole world must be standing still, that everyone on earth had stopped breathing, like me. Mentally, I took off my hat to the two guys at the back of the van. By God they’ve got balls, I thought.

Then, after an incredibly short space of time, one of them stood up, turned round and raised both arms in triumph, as if he’d scored a goal. At the same moment I heard the deep voice say, ‘Device made safe. Repeat: device made safe.’

I suppose I felt relief. I must have. But I don’t remember it now. All I can recall is getting a sudden and intensely vivid mental image of the wretched sister device, Apple, sitting there in its hollowed-out niche beneath the Kremlin wall.

Chapter Seventeen

SEVENTEEN

On the plane to Moscow I had the unpleasant feeling that I’d gone back to the beginning and that the whole nightmare was about to start again. Flight number, departure time, type of aircraft, even the cabin crew – all were the same as on our recce trip.

Only I had changed. Instead of looking forward to a new experience and a bit of a lark, I was being driven by a personal compulsion at least as powerful as the jet engines thrusting us through the sky.

The morning papers carried no hint of the previous day’s events: the media, thank God, had apparently not had a sniff of the drama in Markham Court and Mews. If they’d picked it up, they’d have had one hell of a story: LIVE NUCLEAR DEVICE DISCOVERED IN STOLEN VAN . . . GUN-BATTLE LEAVES TWO CHECHENS DEAD IN FLAT . . . SAS MAN LOSES FINGERS IN GROZNY TORTURE.

Wretched Toad! Word came up from the Services’ hospital in London that surgeons had had to amputate the remains of both little fingers and the third finger on his left hand. When the Shark’s men had realised that he was the one with knowledge of the bomb, they’d started in on him with bolt-shears, one joint at a time. But, tough little sod that he was, he’d given nothing away. Pavarotti, who wasn’t seriously hurt, confirmed that he’d shown outstanding courage.

According to the headlines, international tension had eased. Even so, there were only about a dozen passengers on the 767. Feeling the need to relax, I got two miniatures of Haig off the drinks trolley, along with a can of soda water, and downed the lot in a few minutes. The Scotch helped to lull my anxiety, and when I stretched out across three seats with a blanket over my head I soon fell asleep, and stayed unconscious for most of the flight.