This was a new voice, older, with a strong accent he couldn’t place.

‘What’s happening?’

‘Sahim Kovacevic, confirm your name.’

‘Yes, that’s me. But I need the toilet.’

He was led through a couple of doors, his jeans were undone and pulled down and he was manoeuvred onto a lavatory seat. There was a strong smell of oil and he heard an engine being revved. Maybe they were in a garage. He was led back and put on a hard chair.

‘Can I have a drink?’

There was some mumbling, then steps, then a door being closed. The hood was lifted just enough to uncover his mouth. Sam could see part of a face: a man in his early twenties, Asian, with a small scrub of beard round the outline of his chin, holding a can of Coke to Sam’s mouth. He smelt of tobacco and garlic. Sam drank, the Coke running down his chin. The hood came back down.

The older voice spoke again. ‘You are the brother of Karza, that is right?’

‘What’s happened to him?’

‘He is injured. You will pay for his release or he will be killed.’

‘Who has him?’

‘One million dollars.’

‘What?’

This couldn’t be happening.

‘I don’t have anything like that. I’m just an ordinary person.’

‘You are in the government.’

‘I’m just a spokesman.’

‘Then he won’t survive.’

‘But this is madness! He had no idea, he went to help. He was just an innocent—’

The older man cut him off. ‘What are you?’

‘What do you mean?’

‘What are you?’

‘I’m a British citizen.’

‘That’s what your passport says. When you walk down your street at night, is that what you think? That you are one of them?’

‘I’ve never thought of myself as particularly different.’

‘You’ve never thought at all. Have you?’

‘This country hasn’t done anything bad to me.’

This was not the right thing to say.

‘This country and its allies, its coalition of infidels, is killing your brothers. When you turn on the television and you see the dead and dying Muslims, mutilated by bombs and bullets, do you not see your brothers?’

Sam was starting to sweat under the hood. He could hear the older man’s anger rising.

‘Do you understand anything about what is happening in Syria?’

Sam shook his head. This wasn’t a time to bluff. ‘Only minimally.’

‘Since you are a servant of this government, you should inform yourself so you better understand what your masters are capable of.’

He was tired, frightened and now angry. Two days ago he’d been assaulted by Dink for his race; now this. What had he ever done to deserve it?

‘Okay. Inform me, then.’

‘You know who encouraged us to go to Syria at the beginning?’

Sam shook his head. He could feel a lecture coming his way.