The Land Rover pulls up slowly at a crossroads in a small hamlet surrounded by barren looking farms. A sign saying “El Hito 4km” and pointing to the right stands at the side of dusty road. He looks left to see a group of stone buildings baking in the evening sun.

They look old, more like stables than houses and he looks around nervously, unsure whether to stop, but then looks down at his clothes and scratches his head. Pausing to look back in the rear view mirror at the road behind him, then at the road ahead, he can see that it’s completely clear in both directions, and deadly quiet. He turns the vehicle slowly to the left and inches forward, listening out for any signs that the area was still occupied.

A woman’s pleading for mercy