Our ‘last-minute’ checks seemed endless. We were taking our own main weapons and ammunition – MP5s and G3s – so that we could give demonstrations without having to worry about handling unfamiliar kit. Stun grenades for CQB work; plastic explosive, detonators and det cord for EMOE. Also, I’d cleared it with Sasha that we could take pistols, to carry covertly when we were outside the camp. With crime running at the level it was, he’d agreed that it would be only sensible to have some means of self-defence.

Covert comms equipment was another basic item we’d need for demonstrations. Also, I foresaw that it would be indispensable when it came to recceing sites for Apple and Orange and then inserting the devices. Plenty of batteries were required, therefore, and recharging kit. For work in the tunnel we needed good head-torches, short-handled picks and jemmies, plus a wire climbing ladder for going down the access shaft, and lightweight pulleys and nets for lowering the component parts of Apple. Also sandbags for removing spoil from the insertion-point, lock-picking kit for the padlocks, shovels for possible digging on the Orange site . . . All this on top of our normal equipment and personal kit.

At one point the CO called me in for a private chat.

‘Sit down, Geordie,’ he began. ‘I can see you’re not happy. You’ve just got to make the best of it.’

I nodded. ‘This mass-destruction – it’s not like the Regiment.’

‘I know. But what you’ve got to believe is that the devices will probably never be used.’

‘Easy enough to say that. One thing I’d like to be bloody sure of is that they’re not going to get used while the team’s still over there.’

‘Don’t be stupid. There’s no chance of that.’

‘How do we know? What if the Resident gets assassinated and there’s some kind of Mafia takeover? What if Clinton decides that Russia’s going down the tubes and criminals are about to take over? The international situation might go to ratshit in a few hours.’

I stared at the boss, and he said nothing.

‘What I’d like to know is, whose finger’s going to be on the button? Who’s really in charge? If it’s the Yanks, I’m not at all happy. They’re just as volatile as anyone else. Worse, probably.’

The boss gave a non-committal grunt, and I went on, ‘It’s bloody two-faced of our own government, anyway. All these overtures to the Kremlin about giving them help – and now this.’

‘That’s politics for you.’

There was no good counter to that, and I came away feeling pretty pissed off. Thinking ahead, I put in a call over the secure satellite link to the Chargé d’Affaires in Moscow. He sounded friendly enough, to the point of asking if there was anything he could do to help.