‘“One of you”?’ Bull could feel his heart rate spike. ‘You mean “black”, right? You’re suggesting I’ve been put on this case because I’m a black man?’

‘Hey, if the jazz hands fit.’

For an instant Bull almost forgot where he was. He almost forgot who he was. And he almost forgot that the man insulting him was at least twenty-five years younger and a whole lot larger.

Bull almost forgot all of this as he imagined himself swinging for Meyer. One good hit with everything he had, to wipe the self-satisfied, racist grin from that obnoxious face.

Almost.

Fortunately for Bull, his professionalism beat his anger. He took a deep breath, his eyes remaining fixed on Meyer’s.

‘I’m gonna ignore what you said there, Agent Meyer,’ he finally said, breaking the few seconds of charged silence that had passed between them. ‘For now, anyway. I’m warning you, though, any more of—’

‘Save your warnings for someone who gives a fuck,’ Meyer interrupted. ‘I’m stepping inside that room and I’m speaking to this piece of shit. And I’ll show you how the US Secret Service deals with terrorist scum. You got that?’

Meyer did not wait for a response. He was moving before he had finished speaking, pushing his way past the DCI and striding through the door of the interview room.

It took Bull a few seconds to react as Meyer disappeared through the door. He was a senior officer in one of his country’s most important police units. He was not used to being disregarded. To being ignored.

As the momentary shock passed, Bull rushed after him. He was taking no chances. Meyer had made no explicit threat of injury to Mansour, but the man’s very being bristled with violent possibilities.

Bull reached the doorway and was met by the sight of Meyer looming over the prisoner. For a moment, he thought the worst.

‘GET AWAY FROM THAT MAN!’

Meyer slowly turned his head at the shout, but his body remained fixed. Close – too close – to Mansour’s seat. His massive frame entirely obscuring the prisoner from Bull’s view.

‘Every word and every action in this room is being recorded.’ Bull announced. ‘You lay a hand on my prisoner and there will be an international incident.’

Meyer’s smile disappeared as he instinctively glanced at the corners of the room. He could not miss the video lens looking right back at him from high on the wall, Bull knew. Or the steady light that indicated it was still recording.

Meyer stepped back, away from Mansour and closer to Bull.

‘What kind of a fucking game do you think you’re playing here, Bull?’ he hissed, low enough to avoid the tape.

‘I’m protecting an unconvicted man from mistreatment and God knows what else at your hands, Special Agent Meyer.’ Bull’s voice was raised. This was no longer a conversation. He wanted the mic to hear everything. ‘And having made your intentions here clear, I want you out of this room.’