‘So you see, money won’t work for us,’ said Hassad. ‘If we wanted money, we’d just steal it.’

‘Then what?’ said Porter. ‘Arms?’

‘We can get all the weapons we need from Iran,’ said Hassad.

‘We’ve told you,’ Nasri butted in. His tone was amused, but with an underlying layer of contempt. ‘British troops must be taken out of Iraq and Afghanistan. Then the girl may live.’

‘Then why are you rejecting the PM’s roadmap?’ said Porter. ‘If there was peace, then the troops could come home. Believe me, I don’t think any of the poor bastards want to be there.’

‘Your PM’s promises mean nothing, no British promises do,’ said Asad. ‘It is the British who have brought war to this region. The British let the Jews into Palestine, and drove our people out. And now the British are in Iraq, keeping our people oppressed.’

‘They’ve liberated the country,’ Porter growled.

‘Some liberation,’ Asad spat. ‘Men are tortured in jails. Women are raped by your soldiers. Families are blown up daily. You call that liberation?’

‘You think it would be better if they left?’ said Porter. ‘It would be a sodding bloodbath.’

There was a silence. Porter scooped up the last of the food from his plate, and stuffed it into his mouth. He could feel the blood raging through his veins, and food was about the only way he could think of to keep his mouth shut. Talk any more, and he was only getting himself into worse trouble.

Keep the conversation rolling, that’s what they’d told him to do at the Firm. Engage their sympathy. Get them on your side. Well, they chose the wrong man for the job. I’ve never been able to persuade anyone of anything. If I had been, I wouldn’t have found myself sleeping in the gutters.

I’ve got one more card, Porter decided. And there isn’t going to be a better time to play it than now. ‘Fouad Karem,’ he said. ‘Heard of him?’

‘Karem?’ said Hassad. ‘He’s one of our leaders, of course we’ve heard of him.’

‘The imperialists have him,’ said Asad. ‘In Guantànamo.’

‘We could arrange for him to be released,’ said Porter. ‘An exchange. You give us Katie Dartmouth, and we’ll give you Fouad Karem.’

Not so much as a second passed before Asad replied, Porter noticed. They weren’t even going to consider it. ‘Hezbollah doesn’t do prisoner exchanges, not with the Israelis, not with the Americans, not with anyone,’ he said. ‘Every person who joins us is willing to lay down their life for the cause. That is the deal, and they accept it.’

‘He’s your own man,’ said Porter. ‘You could get him out of there.’

‘And make your life easy?’ said Hassad. ‘If we did that, every time you wanted something, you’d take one of our people and then offer to release them in exchange. We’ve told you. We don’t negotiate with the infidel. That’s our policy, and it is final.’

Turning away from Porter, he shouted across to the boy fiddling with the computers. ‘Get us the British news,’ he said, with a broad grin on his face. ‘Let us see how they are preparing for the country’s biggest execution since they cut the head off King Charles.’