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‘Where is he?’

Charlie’s tone was urgent and tense, demanding a response.

‘He’s about half a mile away,’ DC Roberts responded briskly, checking the tracking app that Emilia had told them to download. ‘He’s making steady progress, doesn’t seem to be much in the way of traffic today, so my guess is that he should be here imminently.’

‘Alright, tell everybody to stand by,’ Charlie replied. ‘Our top priority is to stop him safely and without incident. Timing is going to be crucial though – remind everyone to hold back until I say so, I don’t want him getting spooked and diverting before he’s boxed in, OK?’

Nodding, DC Roberts pulled his radio from his belt and began relaying the order to the other teams. The whole of the MIT had been deployed to Southampton docks, just as they had been four days ago, but this time Charlie was hoping for a very different outcome.

That outing had ended in humiliation, their real target slipping through unscathed, whilst they mistakenly persecuted an innocent Belgian haulier.

Back then they had no idea who they were dealing with, nor how sly his operation was, but now the boot was on the other foot.

Thanks to Helen’s intervention they not only knew the lorry’s registration number, they also knew the name of the driver – Matthijs Vissser, a Dutch national.

And thanks to Emilia’s tip-off, they were able to track the driver’s progress via the journalist’s surveillance app.

If Charlie felt a slight twinge of guilt that the majority of the detective work had been done by an ex-police officer and a journalist, she pushed it away.

It didn’t matter who’d done the leg work, all that mattered now was the result.

How would the trafficker react? Would he abandon his vehicle and flee?

Would he try to fight his way out? Whatever lay in store, the key thing now was to take him by surprise.

If he clocked the heavy police presence before he reached the heart of the port, then he might turn right around and head back onto the ring road, a disastrous prospect given the potential for casualties on that perennially busy road.

No, they had to let him enter the ferry terminal, make him feel that the sea-bound traffic was proceeding as normal, before they made their move.

Border Force could manipulate the traffic flow, ensuring there was a decent gap between him and the preceding vehicle, but after that it would all come down to them.

Timing would be crucial, it being vital that the stingers were laid front and back, the roadblock erected, before he had a chance to react.

Once he was on the main thoroughfare to the departure point, he would be hemmed in, with no side roads to escape down, so if the team did their job right, if they timed their intervention wisely, then surely there would be no escape?

Exhaling slowly, Charlie tried to clamp down her nerves.

The last few months had been fraught, the past week borderline traumatic, but finally she had the sense that things were coming to a head.

This man had mocked them for too long, presumably taking great pleasure from his subterfuge, consistently hoodwinking the authorities who searched fruitlessly for him.

But now his luck had run out, his cover was blown and at long last, Charlie felt certain that victory was at hand.