Tennant felt his body tensing. ‘She’s doing well, thank you. Her actions during the Leeds attack largely led to the successful outcome and the arrest of one of the two Pall Mall killers. She also raised concerns about Abu Mujahid’s return long before we had confirmation. There’s no one I’m more confident in.’

Tennant could tell that Hogarth was smiling. ‘Just be careful. It never does to tie one’s own reputation to one’s juniors, Steven. As for identifying Abu Mujahid earlier, it’s a shame Gabriel wasn’t able to do anything about that before he tried to kill me. Could have avoided a lot of unpleasantness.’

‘I should point out, Home Secretary, that we have no evidence Abu Mujahid was involved with the attack on you.’

Hogarth snorted and ended the call. Tennant swore under his breath as he returned to his screen. Hogarth had a way of getting under his skin.

#

Stonebridge, North West London

Sometimes Asad thought he was losing his grip in the confines of the flat. He was tired and crazily awake at the same time, and unable to sleep properly. He sought comfort in the Quran, reading and rereading the same passages. The words from the Verse of the Sword. The instructions to obey Allah and to obey the Messenger.

They were a group now. It felt like they knew each other better than they knew their own families. Asad knew their foibles, their likes, their pressure points. They were no longer five strangers – they were brothers, bonded together in the care of Abu Mujahid. Saleem and Muhid were more devout and more excited each day, and followed Abu Mujahid’s every move like two puppies, desperate for love from the great man. And Mirza seemed to have got over his anxiety.

Abu Mujahid sat with them every couple of hours. Sometimes to run through the plans or to read the Quran together. Always, Asad’s thoughts would turn to the weekend. He avoided counting down the hours – Abu Mujahid had warned them against that. ‘Brothers, stay in the present, not the future or past. Focus on the moment. Pray. Reflect on the honour and victory that is coming. Read. And prepare yourself for the greatest journey of them all. Make yourself pure and clean to enter Paradise.’ But he couldn’t help it.

He remembered when he was a child, aged seven or eight, being taken by his father to his first football match. In the crowd outside, amid the bustle of fans, and jeers of opponents, his father had held his hand tightly. And then he’d let go for a second and Asad had felt himself swept away. He could see no friendly faces, just angry white men stinking of beer and cigarettes and body odour. During the eternity that it took for his father to push back through the bodies to find him, he had imagined that he was about to die and would never see him again. That same feeling washed over him from time to time now. He knew the only sensible way to contemplate death was to not think about it. But right now, he could think of nothing else.