The discovery unsettled me. ‘I’m really disappointed,’ I told Whinger. ‘I hoped all that was a thing of the past.’

‘Who are we to talk?’ he said.

The truth of his remark kept me in a state of permanent unease. I confirmed to Whinger that I didn’t intend to mention the bugs: we’d wait to see what happened if Steve took one out.

The day being Sunday, there were few people about on the camp, and we were left to sort ourselves out – which suited us fine. There was more than enough admin and physical work to keep us busy. Sasha was in and out, making sure we had all we wanted.

It was clear that all our lads were going to have to take turns at cooking, and in mid-morning Sasha took Dusty – our master chef – and Mal off on a conducted tour of Balashika’s shops, from which they returned effing and blinding. The so-called Supermagazin was a disaster, and the only place they found any half-decent vegetables was in an open-air market, where locals were selling produce brought in from the country. In the Supermagazin they’d bought scabby oranges, and at the other place they had got eggs, onions, carrots, cabbages and potatoes; but still it looked as though we were going to be relying heavily on tins, packets and boil-in-the-bag meals designed for use in the field.

After lunch, under Sasha’s supervision, drivers delivered two battered-looking Volgas, one mid-grey, one black, with worn tyres and rust showing through the paint where the mudguards joined the body. He explained that they were a slightly later model than his own, but similar. The grey one had 88,000 ks on the clock, the black 13,000 – which obviously meant that it had been round the dial once at least

When I asked if it was OK to drive around the dirt roads inside the training area, to familiarise ourselves with the vehicles, Sasha exclaimed, ‘Why not?’

‘How about going into town?’

‘Whatever you like. You’ve got your licences OK. But inside camp, no red-and-white bars, please.’

He meant that we weren’t to go through any of the safety barriers that blocked off the danger areas; but there was plenty of other space, and four of us set out for a spin. Before we left, I got Steve to run his bug-hunter over both vehicles just in case, but the result was negative, and that reassured me a little. Nevertheless, we didn’t propose to run unnecessary risks, so we took covert radios and kept the Volgas a few hundred metres apart, chatting to make sure we weren’t being followed.