Then the door slammed open. The theatre staff jerked to attention. In truth they’d spent the last twenty four hours expecting gunmen to burst in, and these were gunmen-but they were dressed in khaki uniforms she recognised. Friends.

‘Keep still, everyone,’ drawled a voice as armed men, pointed machine-guns and the officer in command assessed what was before him. Checking that the place wasn’t an insurgent stronghold. But here was no disguising that a very real operation was taking place. There was also no disguising that they were operating on a child. The officer in charge made a lightning assessment and obviously decided this was no place for warfare. ‘Who’s in charge?’ he said, and Lily checked the monitor, winced again and managed to reply.

‘I’m operating. This child is critical. We have to continue.’

‘What do you need, Doctor?’ he asked, and her heart, which had almost stopped beating, started to thump again.

‘Plasma,’ she said, and she made no attempt to disguise the desperation in her voice. ‘Now. And help. If you have anyone with medical training…’

‘Right.’ This was a man of few words and plenty of action and Lily blessed him for it. ‘Everyone out except theatre staff. Let’s keep this place as aseptic as possible. Someone find the medical supplies now, and get Ben in here, pronto.’

The machine-guns disappeared. Lily turned her attention to the wound again as the door slammed open once more.

‘Plasma’s on its way,’ a voice said. ‘I’m a doctor. Do you want me to scrub?’

She didn’t look up. She couldn’t. ‘Yes, please,’ she managed, and the man hauled off his outer uniform, let it fall to the floor and crossed to the sinks.

‘Lily’s exhausted,’ Pieter told him. ‘She’s been operating for almost twenty-four hours and her hands are shaking.’

‘That’s what I’m here for,’ the voice said. ‘More medics are on their way but I’m the forerunner. I’m a Lieutenant in the SAS, and I have surgical training. What do you want me to do?’