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They sat in silence, their eyes glued to the scene in front of them. There was a sense of expectancy within the team, but also a marked tension. Everyone knew that there was a lot riding on this.

Detective Inspector Charlie Brooks stole a look at her watch, then picked up her binoculars, running an eye over the dockside below.

From their vantage point in a derelict warehouse, the assembled members of the Major Incident Team had a bird’s-eye view of Southampton’s main port, a bustling collage of articulated lorries, cargo containers and cranes.

There was much to distract the eye, but one key element was missing.

‘He’s late,’ Charlie hissed, checking her watch again. ‘Where is he?’

She angled a glance at her colleagues, but they looked equally mystified.

‘The boat docked two hours ago. He must have disembarked by now,’ she insisted.

‘I checked in with the team down there a couple of minutes ago,’ DC Malik replied. ‘They’ve counted out twenty-five other lorries, but so far there’s no sign of him …’

The young officer’s sentence petered out, summing up the general sense of frustration.

Charlie could feel sweat prickling on the back of her neck, her anxiety rising.

Their intelligence had been crystal clear.

A lorry would be arriving from Rotterdam on the 7.

15 a.m. boat, transporting a dozen illegal immigrants, hidden within crates marked as machine parts.

They had the name of the driver, the registration plate of his truck, even the rendezvous point he was to drive to after leaving the docks.

Charlie had a team stationed there of course, but wanted to end things here, swooping on the trafficker before he had a chance to leave the port area.

This was part of the deal she’d made with Border Force, as the tip-off had come from their helpline and they wanted to share in the glory.

‘Do you want me to go down to the ship? Take a look?’

The offer came from DC James Roberts, one of three new officers they’d had to recruit following the dismissal of several MIT colleagues six months ago.

That had been a dark day for the team – the three male officers were some of the worst examples of corruption, misogyny and incompetence they’d ever come across – but it had been crowned for Charlie by the resignation of her friend and colleague, Helen Grace.

Now it fell to Charlie to lead the team, but six months on it still felt profoundly odd, the lack of her mentor an uncomfortable reality.

‘Not yet,’ Charlie replied, trying to sound purposeful.

‘Not until we’re sure all vehicles have left the ship.

If he is down there, I don’t want to spook him.

He’s an experienced operator, who’ll know the scene, know the faces.

Anything, or anyone, that’s not familiar might rattle him.

And with the greatest of respect, you don’t look much like a docker … ’

It was meant kindly, Roberts was a fresh-faced fast tracker, but Charlie’s joke elicited only an awkward smile, as though she’d offended him.

Her immediate reaction was to want to say more, to rescue the situation, but she held her tongue.

No point making things worse by appearing overly concerned about a junior officer.

They were here to do a job, not engage in team bonding …

and yet how Charlie would have loved to find some common ground with her new colleagues.

Her eyes drifted from DC Roberts to fellow recruit DC Shona Williams, who immediately dropped her gaze, as if underlining the lack of connection with their new boss.

Turning back to the docks, Charlie swallowed her discomfort, raising her binoculars once more, but the knot in her stomach refused to budge.

In truth it had been there since the day Helen Grace resigned.

Her mentor’s sudden departure was more than just a personal blow for Charlie, it had been a seismic event for Hampshire Police.

Enraged by what she perceived to be a culture of complacency and cover-up, Helen had not spared her former employers, lambasting Chief Superintendent Rebecca Holmes and other senior figures in the local press, accusing them of conspiring to shield an offender in their own ranks.

Helen’s principal target had been the top brass, but every officer in the station had felt the sting of her attack, leaving those that remained feeling unsettled and angry.

Morale was low, resentment high and there was no question that the new recruits to the team had been unnerved by Helen’s damning indictment of the Force.

It was Charlie’s job to make them feel settled, valued, inspired even, but so far her efforts had been a total failure.

‘DC Williams, would you check in with the team at the rendezvous site at Portswood? Make sure there’s no signs of life there? Just in case he’s slipped through somehow …’

Shona Williams nodded obediently, picking up her radio and moving away.

But it was action for action’s sake, a way to break the silence and fill the time, as their prize continued to elude them.

With each passing second, Charlie’s anxiety grew, aware that it wasn’t just the eyes of her fellow team members that were on her today.

Her boss, Chief Superintendent Rebecca Holmes, had made it clear that she expected swift results in their fight against human trafficking and modern slavery.

With so many resources being diverted to Dover to deal with the small boats, new opportunities had opened up for the traffickers at other ports along the South Coast, Southampton proving a particularly popular entry point.

Charities estimated that dozens of illegal migrants slipped through the port every week, flooding the local economy with cheap, forced labour and enriching crime bosses across Europe.

According to local politicians and the police commissioner, the situation was becoming intolerable, meaning the hottest of hot potatoes had landed in Charlie’s lap.

She needed a result and she needed one fast.

‘Perhaps you should take a quick look, DC Roberts? This doesn’t feel right to me …’

The young officer looked surprised, Charlie contradicting her earlier order, but rose quickly nevertheless.

Charlie knew she risked looking foolish and indecisive, but the truth was that she had to know.

If this was a bust, if they’d been sold a pup by Border Force, better not to prolong the agony.

Still the thought made her sick to her stomach, the idea of all their preparations, all their efforts, being for nothing.

Charlie had made a big play of this operation, demanding extra resources and manpower from Holmes, promising major results, determined to establish her authority as the new head of the MIT by making her first significant arrest. But as the minutes ticked by with no sign of their prize, Charlie had the sickening feeling that it had all been for nothing, that she’d once more be left empty-handed and embarrassed.

The shadow of Helen Grace had never felt as long as it did today.