‘What shooting?’

‘I’m sending you something over. Take a look.’

She stayed on the line.

‘Okay, I’m interested.’

‘Can you get it up asap? I think there’s rivals of yours here trying to break the story.’

‘I can try. I appreciate this.’

A man walked in, stared at me, lifted a phone. I paid for the whisky, walked out.

I walked fast. Up the escalators. The artificial beach was open for another three-quarters of an hour, according to the boy taking my money. I said that was fine, and he gave me a towel. It was quiet inside – a long stretch of sand and sunloungers alongside the water. Snow tickled the glass roof above the artificial waves. Most of those remaining were drinking and eating at tables set up in the sand beneath palm trees. No one followed me in.

I got a smoothie, checked the gun, calculated escape through the staff exit, watched the entrance. A message came through ten minutes later: the story was up.

They’d run it as I’d written it. Added the images, a clip of the shooting that I’d saved off YouTube. I used a couple of my social media accounts to broadcast the link. Tagged in a selection of anti-Russian figures: Polish, Ukrainian; some Washington-backed organisations, some human rights, some teenagers in bedrooms.

I waited.

Eighty views. Then up to 100 as I watched.

Sites in the US and Poland were linking to it. Then the first pickup from mainstream media in Turkey and India.

My phone buzzed. I thought at first it was response to the story, but it was the alert I’d set up on anyone attempting to break into my hotel room.

Footage from the hidden camera showed me a team of three methodically sifting my possessions – two men and a woman, gloved, using what looked like a portable X-ray scanner. They were searching for something specific. They had a SEEK device – a Secure Electronic Enrollment Kit – used by CIA and US special forces to collect biometric data. Useful if you want to ID someone after you’ve killed them, check you’ve popped the right insurgent.

I looked around. If it was an intelligence operation they’d have someone keeping an eye on my movements.

Sure enough, two men were coming in. I saw a third I hadn’t noticed before, beside the water. All were conspicuous. The two arrivals looked thuggish, with clothing that would conceal arms – one in a brown leather jacket, one, taller, in a black anorak. The one beside the water wore a baggy grey suit. I finished the smoothie, wrapped the glass in the towel and smashed it beneath my heel. Then I got up and moved towards the exit, retrieving a good-sized shard as the men began to follow.

The larger of the two gripped me by the arm. ‘We’d like to speak to you.’