" Mountain tribe or woodland tribe?"
His collegue looked down at the apprehended with that gaze, jaws clenched together, the muscle in his cheek trembling.
" It's irrelevant, Charles", he said.
" It is not. Mountain tribe or woodland tribe, answer me!"

The arrested looked at him defiantly.
" What do you mean?"

Charles rose his big, rough hand and Joseph got off his chair quickly. He grabbed Charles's hand and pulled it down, calmly, but with force.
" It's irrelevant I said."
But when he looked at the face of the prisoner he was surprised. He had only been an inch from being struck, but instead of fear there was anger in his expression.
" Get yourself a cold drink and don't come back before you've calmed down."
Then Joseph turned to the boy.
" Why did you do it?"
" He nearly hit me! Do you know what the embassy will say if you hit me? I'm a British citizen, you hear!"
" I won't hit you. Now why did you do it?"
Silence... The boy just stared at him aggresively.

" I demand a lawyer."
" You're not in England here. Here beating up people is considered a serious crime. Why did you do it?"
Nothing...

" Listen", Joseph tried to sound a bit softer," You had a quarrel with the boy because you vandalized his property, a fight broke out and you hit him. That is how it happened, is it not?"
Still the boy did not reply.

Joseph leant over the arrested's shoulder, his mouth close to his ear.
" Or we could say your attack was religiously motivated, after all your victim was a pagan. Perhaps you're an extremist that came to upset the delicate peace here."
He paused, but to his horror, there appeared a smirk on the boys face, almost as if he liked the idea.

" This is not a game, kid. And this is not England. There they'll write down your name and let you go. Here you might well end up in a labour camp in the wilderness. The sun burning upon your head while you work, vermin crawling over you while you sleep and no word to your family for years. Think about it. Don't you prefer to tell me what happened?"

Just when the boy opened his mouth, the door was opened and Charles entered. His face was wet and his hair dripping, but it seemed the fierceness had not left his features.
" Did he say anything?"
Joseph shook his head.

" I'm sick of you Mountain tribes!", Charles shouted and he grabbed the boy's shoulder.
" You think you're something eh? That no-one can touch you, because you have European passports. I bet that if they had known what kind of trash you were they wouldn't have taken you either. If you like your new nationality so much, why did you come back here? To show off your decadent wealth? To steal our women? To promote your twisted ideologies? You know nothing of this country, nothing, and we don't want you here!"
The boy just glared at him.

" Here you come, in your rented cars, with your noisy music, leaving a trail of garbage behind. You pay no respect to the traditions, you embaress our daughters and you fight with our sons. How dare you even call this your fatherland? You've never been here before."

Joseph coughed.
" Don't say I did not warn you boy... Charles, did you know the victim was a pagan... And a woodlander?"

Charles's eyes shot fire and the hand that was still on the boy's shoulder moved slowly towards his throat.
" So you're a warmonger then? Do you even have an idea of what you are doing? We don't forgive easily boy. If you touch one of us, you touch all of us..."

There was a knock on the door and an officer opened it.
" There's someone from the British embassy here..."