Quarter of a mile from the edge of Loch Ardaich, the snap of a twig nearby made him freeze, the mossy and leafy contours of the suit allowing him to merge into his environment so that he was just another patch of foliage in the darkness. A moment later the sea-green figure of a deer stepped into his field of vision. She was a young doe, foraging alone among the trees. Her eyes were two shining emeralds as she glanced around her, alert and ready to flee at the first sign of danger but perfectly oblivious of his presence.

Boonzie smiled at the sight of her. He’d hunted and killed many animals for survival during his military past, but the taking of any innocent life sickened him. He wouldn’t have dreamed of hurting this beautiful creature. She passed within a few feet of him, then moved on. Boonzie waited until she was gone before he continued on his way, so as not to alarm her with any sudden movements.

Forty more minutes passed before he reached the lochside. Beyond the fringe of the pine forest the waters were still and smooth, shrouded here and there with pockets of eerie drifting mist that the NV image made appear like a toxic fog. Boonzie slipped along the shoreline for half a mile. Then half a mile again. He saw nothing, but kept moving with the indefatigable patience that had served him so well in the SAS.

Then, just as he thought his night hunt would prove fruitless, he spotted the distant green beacon of light dancing on the edge of the water, and gut instinct told him with a glow of satisfaction that he’d found his man.

Boonzie edged closer, silent and unnoticed. If he could sneak up on a wild deer, then no human quarry had a chance of sensing the approach of the camouflaged figure creeping along the grassy shoreline. The poacher was a large and chubby individual, dressed in waders and a long waterproof winter coat. A wool cap covered his head. He appeared to be winding up his night-time fishing session and getting ready to leave. A few minutes later, and Boonzie would have missed him.