‘You see,’ Hassad muttered towards Porter. ‘He’s not interested in peace.’

‘He’s just interested in war,’ Asad spat. ‘That’s all the British ever want.’

Porter remained silent. He looked back at the screen. ‘We’re now crossing live to Beirut, where Sir Peregrine Collinson landed tonight. Our reporter Sam Davenport spoke to him outside the British Embassy in the city. Sam …’

In the next instant, Collinson’s face appeared on the screen. He was wearing a casual shirt, and his face had the worried, concerned, slightly disappointed look he could recall seeing on the face of every Rupert whenever they were about to dump you right in the crap. ‘I can assure everyone back at home we’re doing everything we can to locate Katie Dartmouth and bring her back out alive before tomorrow,’ he said, his tone serious yet also calm. ‘We’re getting help from our allies, from the local authorities, and also from the ordinary Lebanese people who are shocked and horrified at what is being done in their name.’

There was a jeer from the men in the room. They were talking in Arabic, but Porter didn’t need a translation. Whatever the raghead word was for ‘tosser’, that’s what they were saying. If the local Lebanese are shocked and horrified, thought Porter, then somebody forgot to tell these blokes. In fact, they forgot to tell the whole sodding country, judging by the people I met when I was travelling through it.

‘But have you got any leads?’ asked Sam, putting his microphone up close to Collinson. ‘Does anyone have any real idea where Katie is being held captive?’

Collinson nodded. The same look, Porter noted. The one the Ruperts adopted when they were about to lie to you. ‘I can’t give away any confidential information that might help our enemies,’ he said. ‘But I can assure people that the net is closing all the time. As Winston Churchill once said, “If you are going through hell, keep going.” Well, that’s just what we are going to do. Keep going, until we are victorious.’

‘No one will have spoken to that fool,’ said Hassad. ‘This hiding place is totally secure. Even most of the leadership of Hezbollah don’t know where we are.’

‘Tomorrow, I shall be travelling to Israel,’ continued Collinson. ‘The Israeli government has promised us every support and assistance.’

‘I told you,’ snapped Nasri, slamming his fist on the ground, and looking in Porter’s direction. ‘The British and the Zionists are working hand in hand, just as they always have done. That’s why we can never negotiate.’