While the team shouldered bergens, picked up weapons and their other kit and clattered downstairs to Krauja’s car, Morland found the ambassador in his office. He and his staff were gathering files for incineration. Morland quickly explained his new orders, bid him farewell and good luck, then joined the team outside.

“Let’s go, Marina.”

Krauja needed no urging. Ignoring the now-working traffic lights, she drove the packed Toyota Land Cruiser fast through the empty streets, before crossing the bridge over the swollen River Daugava in the growing light of near dawn.

Twenty minutes later, Krauja halted amid a group of high-rise flats on the edge of the western suburbs of Riga and Morland wound his window down. Ahead of them he heard explosions, while occasional flashes and tracer rounds arced into the air. He checked his map. The airport was still several kilometers away to the west, but it was clear that there was a major firefight going on out there.

“I can get closer, Tom.” Krauja showed no fear.

“As long as we can keep under cover, that’s OK,” replied Morland. “We don’t want to get into the open.”

“We’ll take the Jurmala cycle path. That’s the way we bike to the beach in summer. It’s wide enough for this vehicle and it skirts the airport perimeter. It goes through the forest, so we won’t be seen.”

Fifteen minutes later, they were driving smoothly along the cycle path running through the forest. Finally Krauja stopped, reversed off the track into the trees and cut the engine. She pointed, but did not need to. The firefight was very close now and it was light enough for Morland to see the high, iron-link perimeter fence.

“Through the trees and you’ll see the airport.”

“De-bus!” Morland ordered.

The team jumped out of the Land Cruiser, shook out into a V formation to ensure all-round observation and moved the short distance to the edge of the forest from which, just as promised, they overlooked the northern perimeter of the airport. Krauja stayed with the vehicle, guarded by Corporal Paddy Archer, ready for a quick getaway.

Morland dropped to the ground, leopard-crawled to the edge of the forest and lay prone. He listened and looked around. No immediate threat. He pulled out his mini-binoculars from his breast pocket. The rest of the team took up positions in all-round defense, rifles pointing in a 360-degree circle. He looked through his binoculars. “Oh, shit!” he exclaimed, despite himself.