‘Life imprisonment, we got. Minimum thirty to serve. That was eight years ago.’

Mansour looked up from his food.

‘You have twenty years more here?’

‘Twenty-two. At least. But not here, I hope.’

‘Why are you here? In this prison?’

‘That’s down to Terry. He’s, erm, he’s a player, you know what I mean?’

Mansour shook his head.

‘He’s a big name. Head of a big organisation, I mean. So when we were on trial, he had the jury nobbled. Twice. Third one was kept in protective custody for the whole case. Then when we were convicted they tried to break us out of prison. Put a target on our backs, that did. We were classified as a high escape risk, or whatever they called it. So we ended up in here. That was five years ago.’

Mansour ate as he listened.

‘So what about you? Who you working for? Al Qaeda? Isis? Someone else?’

‘I . . . I don’t work with anyone.’

‘You did that plane alone?’

Mansour hesitated. He reminded himself of Devlin’s advice.

‘I do not speak about it,’ he finally said.

‘I get it.’ Carter smiled as he spoke. ‘No pressure.’

Mansour ate a final spoonful of vegetable curry. He looked at the pink custard dessert, scooped some up and lifted it to his nose. It smelled of nothing.

He threw it back into its section of the tray and rose to his feet.

‘I am going to go back. I need to sleep.’

‘No problem, mate. Totally understand.’ Carter rose to his feet at the same time as Mansour. His smiled widened as he continued. ‘I mean, it’s been a long few days for you, ain’t it.’

Mansour ignored Carter’s meaning. He turned to walk away, only to feel a hand grasp his right wrist.

Carter’s hand.

Mansour spun around at the contact. Carter’s left hand was raised, palm open, as he turned. An indication that he was no threat.

‘Look, I’m just gonna say, you need mates in ’ere, Nizar. Friends. That’s how the place works. I can be yer friend. Me and Terry. And we’re the kind you need. Just bear it in mind, OK?’

Mansour fixed his gaze on Carter, unsure how to react to the words. He did not want friends; he did not intend to be here long enough to need them. Not with the help of Duffy and Devlin.

But he also did not want enemies. Not in here. Not with everything else he was facing.

So why make one now?

‘OK,’ he finally said, gently retracting his wrist from Carter’s grip. ‘OK. Friends.’

Mansour forced a smile as he spoke. One he was sure Carter could see through. Carter, in turn, kept his own grin fixed.

‘Good,’ Carter said. ‘That’s good. Now, sleep well, OK?’

‘OK.’

Mansour walked away without another word, his eyes once again facing the floor as he passed the three other occupied tables.

Carter had been enough interaction for one day. He would not risk another.