The Ghosts needed to be logged in and interrogated, the Dictaphone recordings safely delivered to Geraint, and Hattie updated. Considering this latest attempted attack, we were going to have to up our protection of Peng. They were getting ready to strike.

I got up. My breathing was slowly returning to normal. I managed an ‘OK’.

‘How did the Ghosts know she was here?’ asked Cameron.

‘They must have all of the delegation under surveillance. We’ve got to be more careful. If they made a play for the Dictaphone, chances are they aren’t waiting until Lord Wycombe’s shoot to make the hit.’

We bent down and together picked up the unconscious Ghost and dragged him into the back of the van to join his friend. We slammed the doors shut.

‘Do you Rats always work like this? This buddying up to do missions?’ asked Cameron.

‘We always work as a team.’

‘It’s strange this whole hanging out together. The jokes. The chit chat. We usually just get a secure encrypted email and we go out and do it. Alone. I can go weeks, months even, without going into Track 101.’

‘Don’t you want to know why the target needs to die? Doesn’t it help to understand why what you’re doing is for the greater good?’

Cameron frowned. ‘I don’t need to know. The order’s been given. I follow it.’

It didn’t excuse Cameron being Cameron, but it did help explain why she was so bloody difficult to work with.

‘It sounds lonely.’

Cameron shrugged. ‘It’s less complicated. You learn to rely only on yourself. No emotional attachments. Track 101 don’t have to worry about your mental state if anything happens to anyone on your team. It’s a more efficient way to work.’

‘It doesn’t mean you have to apply the same attitude to your personal life.’ It must be my maternal side. Trying to help Cameron be a better person.

‘Not everyone wants to end up a monogamous martyr and ruin their body and career prospects by popping out a kid.’

It was a lost cause.

I handed Ling Ling’s bag to Cameron. ‘Go give it back and we can get out of here.’

We both turned at the sound of a van approaching down the road. It slowed as it came past us. A man popped his head out the passenger window. We both tensed.

‘All right, darlings, give us a smile,’ he leered as the van passed us by.

We ignored him.

For us the Ghosts were easy to spot. Hired muscle looking like hired muscle.