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“What else can you tell us about the attack on the house?” Dimitri said, thankfully bringing Callum back into his comfort zone.

“Not a whole lot.” Callum ran a hand over his face. “There was nothing about these guys that made them stand out. No unique facial features. No visible tattoos. Nothing. The two guys I got the best look at had olive skin tones, like they’d come from a Mediterranean country instead of further north. They definitely didn’t have that blue sheen Scottish folk get because the sun is a stranger up here.”

Jack laughed, and then pointed at his closed mouth when Callum glared at him.

“I don’t think they were ex-military,” Callum continued, “but I only went hand to hand with one of them. They were experienced though. They were fast, efficient and they didn’t communicate with anything but hand signals.”

“Middle Eastern, maybe?” Megan said.

Callum shook his head. “I don’t think so. My first thought was Italian, which doesn’t make any sense.”

“Maybe mob?” Megan said.

“No. There were tats on the dead guy. Standard English prison and Russian mob.”

A ripple of confused looks went through the room.

“Weapons?” Ryan asked.

“Knives, handguns. Nothing unusual. Nothing hard to get hold of.”

There was silence. Callum looked at Isobel and wondered if she was even aware she’d placed herself firmly between him and her son. He wondered whether it was so that she could defend either of them, if needed, or so that they could protect her? Without really planning to, he inched closer to her, just in case she needed him.

“There’s more,” Callum said. “During one of their night-time visits to the cove, the guys from the boat lost a bag on their way up the bluff.” He felt Isobel stiffen, but carried on as though he hadn’t noticed. “Isobel found it the following day and sold the contents to a pawnbroker in Campbeltown. It had been full of camera equipment. High-end stuff. Isobel said it looked like the type of gear the paparazzi would use.”

“Surveillance,” Ryan said.

“That’s what I thought too,” Callum said.

“I don’t know what you mean,” Isobel said.

Callum felt his face soften as he looked down at her. “They were watching someone, or something, at a distance, to gather information.”

“Oh.” Isobel clasped her hands in front of her.

“Clam!” Sophie shouted, and handed him another drawing. He took it and put it on the counter beside him without looking at it this time. Sophie didn’t seem to need his input on her work.

Callum looked back at the team. “I had a word with the pawnbroker. There wasn’t any camera equipment left, but he had this.” He reached into his pocket and tossed the small black box onto the dining table.

“Is that what I think it is?” Ryan looked at Callum.

“Aye,” Callum said.

“What?” Megan said. “What am I missing?”

Dimitri pointed at the box. “That’s part of a SAM guidance system.”

“Stop speaking army, speak civilian,” Rachel snapped. “What do you mean exactly?”

“He means,” Callum said, “in non-military speak, that you’re looking at the remote-control mechanism for a handheld surface-to-air missile.”

“Are you sure?” Elle said.

Dimitri caught Callum’s eyes and nodded. “We’re sure.”

“That isn’t good,” Elle said. “Right?”

“No,” Callum said. “It isn’t good.”

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