Already they were on their feet, fanning out to block her exit from the restaurant. By this point, several more associates of the gang had appeared, alerted by the ruckus.

Recovering swiftly, she rolled off the table onto the floor, and bounced to her feet, orienting herself in the direction of the door.

But her way was blocked by two of the Molloys’ thugs. They were meatheads she’d barely exchanged two words with since the beginning of her infiltration, but however dumb and unimportant they were, the next few seconds of interaction with them could prove to be the most important few seconds in her life.

The nearest one, shaved bald with a ginger beard, resembled nothing less than a human bowling ball. He smiled condescendingly at her petite form and made a grab for her with a huge beefy hand. She nimbly evaded it, his hand gliding harmlessly past, leaving him wide open for a tenohira soko-uchi – open-hand palm strike. She delivered it with her right hand, the heel of her palm impacting the base of his nose with an audible crunch. He reeled backwards, stunned, with blood pouring from his nostrils.

She darted around his lumbering figure to find herself facing the second thug, a thickset boxer type with cauliflower ears and black curly hair. Not quite as complacent as his colleague, his hooded eyes watched her warily as he moved in for the attack. He suddenly feinted with a blow to her left, then swung a lightning-fast right hook at her face. But she had already determined her next move.

Koshi guruma – hip wheel.

Utilising his own kinetic energy against him, she caught the inside of his striking arm with her left hand, simultaneously sliding her right arm around his neck. Then she pivoted on her foot, pushing her hips backwards into his, her small stature working in her favour as she dropped beneath him, breaking his balance, pulling him around in a circular motion at the same time. Propelled by the force of his own punch, he tumbled straight over her hips and crashed onto the floor. He lay there blinking in shock, but she gave no respite, following up with a hard stamp downwards into his groin, hearing him squeal in pain.

She caught a glimpse of the rest of the gang goggling at her, completely taken aback by her hitherto unannounced self-defence skills.

She swung back around to the door…

And saw that Shane had somehow already got there ahead of her. He was standing blocking the exit, with his arms crossed and a wide smile on his face.

‘I see you possess jiu-jitsu skills,’ he said admiringly. ‘You kept that quiet. I’m impressed with your technique. But I feel I could still teach you a few things. So come on then, copper. Let’s have you.’

He dropped into a professional fighting stance, completely in his element.

She sagged. Fuck. He was going to present considerably more of a challenge than the two gorillas she’d floored just now. This was Shane Reaper, a fourth-dan jiu-jitsu black belt who’d won more UFC bouts than she could count on both hands. Against someone of his expertise, she rated her chances very low indeed.