In the early morning of January 3, the US abducted Venezuelan strongman Nicolás Maduro. Some 150 helicopters and aircraft bombarded the capital city of Caracas, while elite units stormed the Fuerte Tiuna military complex, overpowered Maduro and flew him, along with his wife Cilia Flores, to New York's Metropolitan Detention Center. The two have been in pre-trial detention there ever since. US authorities have charged them with drug trafficking and terrorism.

Nicolás Maduro Guerra, 35, Maduro's only son, is also included in the indictment. Nicolasito, as Venezuelans call him, was long touted as the "príncipe," the heir apparent to a father who in recent years had clung to power above all through rigged elections and a repressive crackdown on the opposition. At a time when millions of people were fleeing poverty in the most oil-rich country on earth, Maduro Guerra was preparing for his future role as a member of the National Assembly. Now it looks as though he will have to change directions.

He has decided to speak to a Western news outlet in an effort to defend his father. How do you approach a representative of this regime, which has completely sealed itself off in recent years? What questions can you ask without endangering your own safety in a country with a notorious intelligence service?

Maduro Guerra receives visitors in Caracas on the eighth floor of an office tower, in whose hallways grim-faced security men stand watch. The view through the window looks out onto La Carlota military airport, where American bombs struck on January 3. In front of it stands a leather couch. Maduro Guerra, who is not as tall as his father but of similarly sturdy build, smiles as he asks: Would you like to sit next to me, or do you prefer something more formal? And so, this mutual attempt at rapprochement begins on the sofa, with almost no distance between us.

DER SPIEGEL: Señor Maduro, how are you doing?

Maduro: The automatic answer would be: fine. But in truth I'm carrying a heavy load. I'm trying to stay composed, to live up to my responsibility and to keep fighting for Chavismo and our revolution, but it isn't easy.

DER SPIEGEL: What is the hardest part?

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Maduro: Imagining my father in prison. When I'm eating, showering or sitting somewhere in a meeting, the question rushes through my mind: How is he doing?

DER SPIEGEL: And how is he doing?