‘What?’ asked Hassad.

‘I want to be alone with one of my own people.’

Porter listened closely. Has she got a plan? he wondered.

Katie was looking up now. ‘You said you weren’t cruel men,’ she said. ‘Well then, you’ll grant a woman one simple request before you kill her.’

Hassad looked at her, then at Porter. ‘No tricks,’ he said.

Porter nodded.

‘A man will be posted at the door,’ said Hassad. ‘Five minutes, that’s all. Then we’re taking you out of here.’

He walked from the room, the others following behind him. The door slammed shut. For a couple of seconds, Porter remained silent. He reckoned he knew something of what she was going through. Only a day earlier, the bastards who captured him told him he was about to be beheaded, and he’d believed them. He’d sensed the fear, the dread, the expectation of the pain, and the challenge of dying alone and miserable in a strange and hostile place.

‘Do you think they’ll really do it?’ asked Katie.

Porter nodded. There was no point in trying to kid her. That wasn’t going to do any good now.

‘They’re bastards,’ he muttered. ‘They’ll do anything.’

Katie started to speak, but she choked on the first word. Maybe some small part of her had hoped through the past week that it was just a bluff, that when the moment came, they’d call it off. Lock her up instead. He’d heard that men on death row often thought that. It was the only way they could handle the pressure. If so, he’d punctured that now. The flat certainty with which he delivered the answer had extinguished what hope remained as surely as a closed fist will extinguish the flame on a candle.

‘It won’t be so bad,’ he said. ‘It’ll be quick. And …’

He paused, trying to complete the sentence, but it was hopeless. It wasn’t going to be quick, and she knew it. That was why she was so afraid.

‘Kill me now,’ she said.

Porter could hear the desperation in her voice.

‘At least it will be over,’ she continued.

‘There’s still hope,’ he persisted. ‘That’s one thing you learn in the army. While you’re still alive, there’s still a chance. Something may turn up.’

‘Have you negotiated?’ asked Katie, her voice pale and frightened.

Porter shrugged. ‘They’re not interested.’

‘Did they … did they give you anything to offer?’

‘Just the bollocks you’d expect,’ said Porter. He sighed. ‘Some half-arsed peace talks. Some money. That’s not what they want though, is it? They want our boys out of Iraq. And we’re not going to give them that.’

A tear was falling down the side of Katie’s cheek. ‘Did … did Perry get involved?’

‘Collinson?’ said Porter.

Then he remembered. She’d been tied to this miserable stake for the past week. She had no idea what was going on at home.

‘We were …’

‘I know,’ growled Porter.

There’s no need for her to know the history between us. It will only make things worse. If that was possible. ‘He’s meant to be heading up the effort to rescue you,’ said Porter. ‘I saw the latest broadcast. He’s been in Beirut today, and he might be in Israel by tomorrow.