So much for being rescued: the “kind man” who had “taken me in his arms” now held a gun to my head. He marched me out of the building, across the road, through the main door of a glass skyscraper, then into an unlit lift.

In complete darkness we travelled downwards. The lift came to a halt and the doors opened out into a hallway. Here half a dozen very elegantly dressed, and unfeasibly, beautiful gang members faced us, their guns lined up for action.

I really had no idea what was going on, nor where I was. The only clue was the corporate logo on the hall carpet. It would appear that I was a “guest” of the Reed Corporation.