I glanced at Oskar in the rear-view mirror; he had a strange look on his face. Small beads of sweat had formed on his forehead. I kept on going, taking the next left to get us back onto the main avenue, after which we could head straight for Retièn.

‘Goddammit,’ Oskar croaked from behind me. ‘Goddammit, stop the car!’

I glanced at the rear-view mirror again in time to see him clawing for the door handle.

‘Fuck, Oskar,’ I shouted, ‘what are you . . . ?’

‘Look,’ said Rozalia, pointing ahead.

I looked, but I couldn’t believe it. It was Oskar’s dog, Lucky, straight up ahead at the next intersection, her belly to the ground and her tail wagging furiously. She leaped up and barked again, then started to bound down the length of the street towards us.

Oskar slammed the door open and jumped out almost before I had pulled to a halt. Rozalia followed him, climbing out of the car and starting towards the dog.

‘Well, goddam,’ said Yuichi, shaking his head in wonder as he got out as well. ‘Looks like his hound didn’t drown after all.’

I jumped out. Oskar had stopped in front of the SUV, a look of boundless joy on his face. Lucky came dashing across the intersection and straight towards her owner. The brilliant morning sunlight made it hard to see her clearly at first.

Too late, I saw the thick belt of explosives wrapped around the dog’s midriff.

‘Oskar!’ I screamed. ‘Run!’

He turned to look at me, his expression faltering at the sound of my voice.

After that, everything appeared to happen in slow motion, with the grim inevitability of a nightmare playing out to the very end.

I dropped my rifle and ran, just as Lucky came bounding up to Oskar. Something picked me up and carried me through the air before slamming me back down again. My ears filled with a muted roar that seemed to go on forever; intense, painful heat bathed my legs, and I cried out, afraid I was on fire.

I tried to crawl away, gasping and choking on the thick dust that now filled the air, and tried to push myself up on my elbows. My hands were raw and bleeding, and there was a pain deep in my chest that gave me pause.

But I was alive.

I looked around, hearing a sound like rain pattering down. A hand, neatly severed at the wrist and wearing a signet ring I recognized as Oskar’s, hit the tarmac close by. Bits of metal and ground concrete fell all around.

I finally staggered back upright once more and gaped at what was left of our SUV. Its windows were shattered, the front crumpled and stained with red gore. There wasn’t much left of either Oskar or Lucky that was remotely recognizable.

Lucky. I like to think Oskar might have appreciated the irony.