‘Yes, there is that.’ Holm was struggling to come to terms with Karen Hope holding a gun. Well that part wasn’t surprising; her family owned an arms company after all. But the future president of the US standing alongside one of the world’s most notorious terrorists, about to help him commit murder? That was a little difficult to understand.

‘Boss?’ Javed’s hands came from behind his back, the twine somehow severed. ‘Your turn.’

Holm stared at the boy, wondering what miracle he had summoned and from where. Then he spotted the shiny object in Javed’s hands. His nail clippers.

With their bonds removed, they made their way up from the olive grove back to the veranda. Holm stood over the body of Karen Hope. Bits of flesh and bone had splattered across the ground and there was a mark on the wall of the farmhouse where a stone had exploded.

‘High-powered rifle,’ Javed said. ‘They were out there on that ridge. When Karen Hope came out… boom!’

‘Don’t.’ Holm stepped back from the body, aware of a sticky residue on his shoes. He gazed down at what was now no more than a cadaver of a woman. Hope. So much of it gone. All that promise unfulfilled. And yet she’d been about to blow his head off. What was that about? However Holm tried to spin what he’d seen and heard, the end result didn’t make sense. He turned to Javed. ‘Come on, let’s check inside and then we’ll call Palmer. After him, Huxtable, although what the hell she’s going to make of this, I have no idea.’

‘Karen Hope tried to kill us, she got whacked and Taher got away with a load of weapons.’ Javed came over and stood alongside Holm. He contemplated the body and shook his head. ‘Good luck with that, sir.’

Inside the house was cool. Narrow corridors led between thick stone walls to airy rooms with rustic furniture. The large kitchen was well equipped and stocked with food. A dining hall had seating for twenty, and at one end of the building was a bunk house.

‘Do you think this place is a training camp?’ Javed said as they edged down yet another corridor.

‘No idea.’ Holm pushed through a curtain and out into a central courtyard. He leaned on a wall, feeling deflated. All this way and all this effort and the main prize had eluded them.

‘We’ve disrupted the supply chain,’ Javed said, sensing Holm’s despair. ‘Whatever that boat was up to it won’t be doing it any more.’

‘You’re right.’ Holm brightened. ‘Let’s check upstairs and then we’ll work out what the hell to do.’