“Mr Carrero.” A voice drags my attention back to the suited middle-aged man approaching us, accompanied by matching black-suited men that are not a patch on Alexi’s standard security. They lack the build and intimidating look of Carrero. You can tell they are probably a bunch of pussy cats and not really all that effective.

All are wearing cheap suits and overly serious expressions, pretending to be far meaner than they are. It’s all posturing and hardly effective when you’ve ...