Police doctrine is, even if you’re waiting for someone to do something violent to your suspect, you should deescalate the situation because at the very least a peaceful resolution produces a ton less paperwork.

‘Am I a shade?’ I asked.

‘The jury’s still out on you, son,’ said Crew Cut, and then spoke into his sleeve again. ‘Okay Teddy – time we were leaving.’

I wondered what the hell they thought they were going to do – was there a rear exit, a helicopter on the roof, or had they contracted with International Rescue to lease The Mole and drill their way out?

I never did get to find out, because about then was when the lights went out.

All at once.

I dropped to the floor, on the basis that I was in a room full of excitable men with guns, and I thought it might not be a bad idea to get my centre of mass out of the line of fire. As I went down I heard a cracking noise, a muffled grunt and a rushing sound. A terrible and familiar smell rolled over me, the liquid shit stink of the sewers. Something slapped my leg so I pulled it in under me.

I heard the Americans shouting and something heavy – I hoped it wasn’t a body – hitting the pool with a splash. I needed some light, but I wasn’t stupid enough to want it anywhere near me. So I cast a werelight over at the far end of the basement where it wouldn’t blind or illuminate me. Even as I released the spell I lined up the formae for a shield and had that ready to go.

The werelight popped up, strangely blurred and wavering.

There was a series of painfully loud bangs as the Americans opened fire.

The light flickered and cast rolling shadows across the walls and ceiling.

‘Cease fire,’ I yelled. But, just in case they didn’t, I put up my shield.

A cold and stinking wind struck me in the face, and with it I realised what was wrong.

My werelight had materialised inside a rolling wall of water stretching from the base of the pool to the ceiling. It was racing down the length of the basement towards me, and that’s what was causing the wind.

Oh shit, I thought as I raised my shield. Wrong spell.

I noticed the shield did slow the water down a fraction before it swept me, the Americans, and the cheap plastic garden furniture down the remaining the length of the basement.

Which, incidentally, saved our lives.

Not that I appreciated it at the time, you understand.