It’s 3am in Baghdad and someone is trying to kill me.
I’m standing outside a guard gate in a dust storm, waiting for my ride, when I hear the thump-thump of a shell landing in the distance. I had expected to hear mortar and rocket fire and I realise that no-one is targeting me specifically – as I’m sure they would rather kill US soldiers, Iraqi government officials or the group of American diplomats standing next to me than a tired legal affairs reporter. But motives don’t matter once the shell is launched.
