‘Show-off,’ Holm said. A strip from his white shirt hung down towards his knees and when he put his hand to his stomach his fingers found a warm sticky liquid.

‘Man down?’ Javed said.

‘I’m fine. It’s just a graze.’ Holm pulled the strip of linen free and dabbed the cut. He tucked the remains of his shirt back in. ‘Come on, we need to get closer.’

The security was minimal. There didn’t seem to be any cameras, and shrubs dotted the grassy area round the warehouse, providing plenty of cover. They reached the edge of the building and moved along until they came to a door set into the metal cladding. From inside came the revving and idling of the truck’s diesel engine. Holm tried the door but it was locked. He gestured back towards the front of the building and as he did so he heard the engine rev again. Seconds later the truck cab rolled out from the warehouse and drove to the gate. The guard raised the barrier and the truck drove off.

‘He’s dumped the container,’ Javed said. ‘Should we try and get inside?’

Holm considered the terrain. A multitude of shrubs would allow them to make their way to the front of the building undetected, but they’d have to cross the open tarmac to get to the doors. It was now dark and floodlights illuminated the whole area. If the guard turned, he’d spot them.

He tapped Javed on the shoulder, made a circling motion and set off along the wall of the warehouse. At the rear there was a small strip of land and beyond that a fence which marked the edge of RAF Wittering. The runway was lit up and a series of lights dotted off into the darkness. A large jet waited on an apron of concrete, a door near the cabin open and a set of steps in place. A glow shone from a cargo hatch and a fuel bowser stood near the aircraft.

Holm turned to the building. There was a set of double doors, a mirror to the ones at the front. He moved across. There was a standard-sized door set into one and he was surprised to find it was unlocked. He eased the door open and stepped into the dark of the warehouse.

‘Fuck.’ Holm smashed his ankle on something low down. ‘We should have brought a torch.’

‘Here.’ Javed’s face lit up in the glow from his phone. A bright light on the back blinked on and Javed moved the phone to illuminate the area in front of them. Dozens of lengths of scaffolding lay in a metal rack; it was the corner of the rack that had connected with Holm’s ankle.

Holm bent and rubbed his foot and moved forward. The cavernous space appeared almost empty, but in the centre was the container on its trailer.