Ali had accumulated little during the four months he’d spent in the rented apartment. The unit was furnished with only two plastic chairs from an outdoor setting and a folding card table. He slept on the wood-patterned linoleum floor in the sitting room. He no longer needed blankets or sheets thanks to the warm, humid June weather generated by the summer’s Baltic Sea cyclones. The doors to the two small bedrooms had never even been opened.

Ali cooked all his food in one pot and one pan and used disposable plastic cutlery. He had become particularly fond of Big Bon, a brand of Russian two-minute noodles; his favourite flavour was chicken with salsa. Everything else he owned – except for his laptop and suitcase – was kept in the oven, which he had disconnected from the power and padlocked shut after installing a latch.

He had lain low since moving in, going out only for supplies, surveillance and reconnaissance. He had studied Russian before leaving Australia and had mastered the basics well enough to get by. The locals took little notice of him anyway. He was hardly an oddity in St Petersburg, which was filled with itinerants and foreigners living there illegally. Most of them being involved in crime, the residents knew better than to ask questions or snoop.

The day before, Ali had gone down to the dock at 2 am in the morning and had burned all of his clothes except for the black long-sleeve shirt, cargo pants and black hoodie that were now neatly folded on his floor. He had also thrown some unused groceries, stationery, a well-used notebook, a heavily marked map, wire off-cuts, circuits, batteries and a soldering iron into the drum and watched them disintegrate.

Sitting on one of the two plastic chairs in his apartment, he was completely naked when he removed his necklace. He placed the chain on the card table after removing the key that he had kept on the necklace. He walked over to the makeshift safe and unlocked it.

Ali took a quick inventory of the items: two Australian passports (both genuine), two Ukrainian passports (both fake but passable), two well-worn copies of the Quran (both English translations), a plastic Chinese takeaway container filled with cash (neat stacks of euros bound by rubber bands), two prepaid mobile phones (in unopened boxes), a piece of paper bearing a name and number in black ink, a bottle of dextroamphetamine – and a bomb.

He reattached the padlock but did not put the key back on his chain, instead carrying it with him as he made his way to the bathroom. He opened the door and turned on the light, ignoring the man who was gaffer taped to the toilet as he walked in.

He would take care of himself before taking care of the traitor.