‘That does not surprise me, sayidi,’ he said. ‘You are a man of great power and influence, second only to your brother in your tribe. Your standing is unquestionable. No-one moves through this area without you knowing about it, I’m sure of that.’

And I’m damned sure you want a piece of the action, too.

If he was flattered, the uncle didn’t show it.

‘Fellow called Shaladi,’ he said. ‘He should have involved me from the start.’ Then he added, almost as an aside, ‘He won’t make that mistake again.’

Again, that mirthless chuckle.

Mahsoud nodded. Something in the way the old man spoke made him glad that he wasn’t Shaladi.

‘But that’s my problem,’ said the old man. ‘The strange thing is, Shaladi says the Chechens told him the safe house was a base for an attack on Benghazi. They want to stop the new government from getting established there. But you…’ He paused. ‘You tell my nephew Tariq something entirely different, about an attack in Tripoli. I must confess, I am confused.’

The old man spread his hands, in a gesture of openness.

‘My friend, you are an honoured guest,’ he said. ‘But this is my town. If you are honest with me, I can help you. But if not…’

Mahsoud’s heart rate increased, but he said nothing as he wrestled with how to answer this question.

Give the wrong answer, and things might go very badly for him.

But he certainly couldn’t tell the old man the truth.

‘Sayidi,’ he said, at length. ‘I am humbled to share your home, and will be forever in your debt. It is my dearest wish that I might one day be able to call you a friend. But, respectfully, there are many reasons why I cannot tell you everything.’ He paused. ‘Forgive me, but you have heard of the cell structure, yes?’

The other man raised his eyebrows. ‘I think so…’ he said.

‘It’s designed to make it harder for the enemy to penetrate our ranks and uncover our plans,’ said Mahsoud. ‘In any operation, the commanders limit each individual’s knowledge of the other participants, and even of the operation itself, to the barest basics that each man needs to do his job.’

The old man nodded, thoughtfully.

‘The idea,’ said Mahsoud, ‘is that, if one man is captured, he cannot give away everything.’ He paused. ‘Because the Americans, they have ways of making anyone talk.’

‘So I am told,’ said the Libyan.

‘And what you don’t know, you cannot tell.’ Mahsoud smiled, apologetically. ‘So, yes, I was not entirely truthful with Tariq, but then it’s also entirely possible that my superiors did not tell me the truth. As for Shaladi – I have never heard of him.’

The old man said nothing.