But I couldn’t dwell on that – Tenoch’s grey T-shirt was half red with blood from his pecs down. He’d been shot in the belly and again at the top of his leg. His good leg. The blood was spurting.

‘Jesus Christ,’ I said, placing the Glock down on the island and taking his weight. I manoeuvred him over to a stool to locate the first aid kit. ‘This is not good, this is not fucking good.’

‘Yeah,’ he panted. ‘I sorta guessed. Look at my back… is it clean?’

‘No, it’s pretty fucking messy from where I’m standing,’ I said, opening and closing cupboard doors.

‘Exit wound, gatita. Did the bullet come through?’

‘I don’t know. I can’t see a thing, it’s all so fucked up. I don’t think so. What do I do?’

‘Ahhh,’ he winced, delving into his pocket. ‘Paco… will send a car.’

‘I’ll call 911, give me the phone.’

‘No, you not call anyone, I call.’ He put in his number achingly slowly and scrolled his contacts with a shaking thumb. ‘I call Paco.’

His face was losing colour by the second – all his life was seeping out of him. He made the call to Paco, spoke a garbled mess of pain-edged Spanish which I half-translated as ‘send the helicopter’ – envía el helicóptero – then he ended the call and sank down against the cabinets. ‘He’ll… be here soon.’

‘Can I get you anything? A cup of tea? Hot towels?’

‘That’s childbirth.’ He took my hand with his free one – the other holding his stomach in. ‘I am glad you are here.’

It was only when I helped settle him against the cupboard and stood that I saw the man, standing by the windows. A fourth man.

‘Oh, shit.’ I ducked behind the island as shots rang out above my head.

‘Shoot!’ Tenoch wheezed, scrabbling for the Glock on the countertop.

I waited for the next round of bullets and when it had stopped I reached up for it and wrapped my hand around it.

‘HE’S RELOADING. DO IT NOW!’

He was right there, feet away, creeping towards us when I pointed the gun and aimed and fired and WHAM – half his fucking head exploded – half against me, half against the cabinets. His body crumpled and I staggered backwards. It wasn’t a delicious kill, like some of the others had been. I was removed from it, using the gun, and I saw death for what it was for once – messy and bloody and final. And not in the least bit sexy.

Tenoch struggled back to his feet. ‘I must… get to Paco.’

I was still standing there with the gun shaking in my grip, mouth open, wiping blood and skull fragments from my face. A horn sounded outside. As I helped Tenoch outside and along Spiky Plant Alley towards the front gates, he stumbled to the ground and I fell with him.