“Thank you, Tom. I appreciate your concern.” Krauja looked at him gravely. “But I’m Latvian. My country is occupied by Russia. The only way we can fight the invaders is from the forests. My duty is to get back where I’m needed. Besides . . . the Russians killed my brother.”

From the set look on her face, Morland knew better than to push her. Anyhow, it was time to clean his weapon, prepare his kit for the long patrol back to the compound and get some rest.

Five hours later, long after they had left their patrol base, Morland saw the shadowy outline of Captain Arvydas Lukša, the Lithuanian Forest Brother who was leading, hold up a hand. It was the signal to stop. He repeated the signal to Sergeant Wild behind him and he, in turn, passed the message soundlessly back to the rest of the patrol. He checked his luminous army issue watch: 0255 hrs. Twenty minutes later than planned, but better to take longer and go quieter, than rush and be heard and caught.

The other four Mercians, Krauja and two other Lithuanians automatically spread out to take up a position of all-round defense. When Morland saw they were in position, he swung his daysack from his shoulders and lowered it to the earth. Suppressing the urge to flop down next to it and rest, he moved to each team member in turn, careful not to snap any of the twigs or branches that littered the forest floor, and confirmed with a suppressed whisper that they were now in their lying-up place. This is where they would remain until the following night.

Only when Morland saw the unmistakable silhouette of Corporal Jezza Watson move away from the team to do the first sentry stag did he sit down and consult his map by the faint red light of his torch. He knew they were in exactly the right place, but he double-checked all the same. Now it was time to settle in for what remained of the short summer night. They would stay hidden here all the next day until the scheduled parachute drop of US Special Forces tomorrow night.