‘Assalamu-Alaikum,’ said Abu Mujahid. ‘It’s an honour for me to meet you, brothers. We don’t know each other yet, but we are part of a noble brotherhood.’ He leant back. His voice remained soft, almost hypnotic. His manner reminded Asad of a cat.

‘The attacks on Muslims in Syria, and Muslims in England, are attacks on all of us. Allah tells us that our duty is to defend the oppressed and the poor and the vulnerable. Allah is calling you to fight in his war, to defend our brothers and sisters slaughtered at Chilton Park and Pall Mall and to defend the Muslims I’ve seen with my own eyes, oppressed, beaten, tortured, raped and abused overseas.

‘The Deputy Prime Minister,’ he pointed at the TV, ‘wants to strip our sisters’ faces, to force them to bare skin like kafirs. This ban will force our sisters off the streets, out of schools and hospitals and workplaces and into their homes.

‘A secret, brothers. I’m back here because of that woman.’ He pointed to the screen. ‘Because of her and people like her. I’m here to teach this country a lesson that it will never forget. A lesson about the plight of Muslims around the world, and a lesson about those like Lesley Hogarth who want to crush us.

‘I could tell you stories of bravery that I saw in the glorious Caliphate. Of our blessed brothers who martyred themselves fighting the enemies who were raping our daughters and killing our mothers. That bravery is in us all. Allah knows when our time will come – and what our roles are. Allah is saving us all for his greater purpose.

‘Did you see the interview yesterday with the girl who lost her family at Chilton Park – and who nearly died again at Pall Mall?’ The listening men nodded intently. ‘Did you see her anger at the police who turn their cheek when the far right attacks innocent brothers and sisters – but who scream and shout when we dare speak up? That girl’s anger should ignite your rage.

‘And soon, it will be your chance to stand up, to establish Sharia law, to defend the Muslim Ummah, and to strike the infidels and apostates so that they can no longer oppress us without suffering the wrath of Allah.’

The men sat still. Asad barely breathed. His initial excitement had died down, but the energy in the room had changed. It was now intense, quiet and tangible. Outside the window, footsteps echoed on the metal grid of the staircase.

‘And if Allah wills it,’ Abu Mujahid continued, ‘you will have destroyed countless enemies of Islam, and you will live for eternity in Paradise. You are part of a bigger plan – and when you succeed, as you will, you will have contributed to the resurgence of a new Islamic State – greater and stronger than before.’

DAY 8

Wednesday

CTOC, St Pancras, London

Gabriel put the phone down with a scowl. The DNA samples taken from Rod Houghton’s house had matched the smear of sweat and skin on the petrol bomb debris. Houghton was their missing man, but they were no closer to finding out where he was. His house in West London was under surveillance, his known friends and family were being tailed, but since he had slipped from the Pall Mall hotel four days earlier, he had vanished.