Vronsky and his team of ten Spetsnaz soldiers then moved noiselessly into their final ambush position. At H-Hour, the feint attack would be launched from the other side of the camp. In order to maximize surprise, it would be launched silently, meaning that if the Forest Brothers had not set guards, the attackers might even overrun the camp without Vronsky and his men getting involved. Not that Vronsky cared. He felt no need to shoot or to be shot at. All he wanted was the right result, regardless of how it was achieved or who achieved it. Unlike the President, he thought bitterly, he did not take things personally. Which was one reason he had continued to survive and thrive, while so many of his friends had become casualties in the various vicious conflicts in the Caucasus.

Vronsky looked again at his watch. The minutes were ticking by in the almost oppressive silence of the forest. And then, to his horror, Vronsky heard from behind him the sharp crack of two high-velocity shots: unmistakably an AK-74M, the standard Russian infantry assault rifle. That was followed a few seconds later by multiple bursts of automatic fire, swiftly followed by a short contact report from the outer-cordon company commander, broadcast into the personal radio clamped to his left ear.

Even as the company commander was reporting an attack on their position by unknown assailants, Vronsky was already raging to himself. “The fools! The oldest mistake and attempted cover-up in the book . . . A negligent discharge by a bored soldier with an itchy trigger finger, followed by return fire and a spurious contact report.”

“Stand by for the enemy to bug out,” he ordered quietly into his microphone.

The trouble was that the Forest Brothers would now try to escape away from the firing and that meant away from their ambush position. Hopefully though, they would run straight into the assault group, even now preparing to attack. The plan might have cooked off completely arse about face, but it should achieve the same result. Although, whatever happened next, Vronsky mused as he checked the safety catch on his AS Val assault rifle, there was a soldier and his officer who were never going to forget their monumental balls-up today. But that would come later. First he had to destroy this rats’ nest and capture this Englishman. He knew he could rely on his team to do the right thing, so right now, there was nothing to do but keep their heads down and wait for the attack.

And then it began.