‘Thanks again, then.’

As soon as he was indoors we opened the up-and-over steel door of the cellar and backed the black Volga to the head of the ramp. There was no point in taking the car down the slope, because the approach, between concrete walls, was too narrow for the rear doors to open more than a few inches and we wouldn’t have got the boxes out of the back seat. That meant a short carry, and before we began it I scanned round to make certain we weren’t being overlooked. No problems on that score: the high wall of the compound blanked off the view from outside. Reassured, I said, ‘OK, lads. Here we go,’ and we set about dumping our lethal load.

When all six cases were stacked, Toad brought out the two Rats, switched them off and slipped them back into their compartments in the SCRs. To put the final touch on our security, we replaced the padlock on the foot of the door with one of our own.

Toad was obviously impressed by the size of the Embassy buildings, and from the way he started dry-washing his hands I knew he was coming up with some new idea. ‘Now we’ve got the devices here,’ he said, ‘hadn’t I better stay with them? There must be a spare room I could live in.’

‘Not a chance,’ I told him. ‘The kit’ll be fine here. Nobody can touch it. You’re coming back with us.’

The relief of getting the devices off my hands – even for the time being – made me feel reckless, and I almost went straight into a recce of the churchyard. ‘After all,’ I said before we re-boarded the cars in the embassy compound, ‘we’re on the spot. Why not have a look round?’

It was the ever-observant Rick who stopped me. ‘When we drove in, there was a guy hanging around out there on the embankment,’ he warned.

‘Where?’

‘About a hundred metres beyond the entrance. He looked everything like a dicker, from the FSB or somewhere.’

‘In that case we’ll not piss about in the area,’ I agreed. ‘Especially if he’s still there when we pull out.’

He was – a figure in dark clothes, wearing a cap, leaning out over the river wall as if watching boats go by. ‘He’s moved this way a bit,’ said Rick over the radio. ‘But it’s the same guy.’

‘Right then,’ I replied. ‘That’s it. Next stop Balashitheap.’

I found it a pleasure to start the course the next morning. Our team had all slept well, and the weather was still fine. Whinger and I had gone for a four-mile run at first light, and after a shower and breakfast I felt in good shape. But above all I was chuffed to get back to our proper role of soldiering, and passing some of our skills on to others.