Helen Sandberg stood up to welcome the American and British Ambassadors. The
two men were very different. The American ambassador was a short round man with a
loud voice which Helen disliked very much. He often wore open-necked shirts, and he had
a very hairy chest. She disliked that too. The British Ambassador – a tall thin Scotsman
from Edinburgh - was always quiet, polite and well-dressed, but she did not always believe
what he said. Once – a year ago – he had lied to her and she could never forget that. But most of all, she disliked them because they went were both military men and their
countries were much bigger than hers. They wanted military bases for their soldiers in her
country and she did not want them.
‘So, gentlemen, what can I do for you?’
The American spoke first. ‘Well, ma’am, an American passenger is dead …’
‘Yes, I know. I am very sorry about that. I hope no more will die.’
‘I hope so too, ma’am. There are twenty-eight US passengers on that plane and my
Government wants them all alive,’ Helen answered quietly. But the Ambassador did not
listen.
‘So the US Government is going to help you, ma’am. We have fifty US Marines at the
US Embassy, and they can be here in one hour from now. Then they’ll just take that
goddam plane apart.’
The Scotsman smiled. ‘Excuse me, Ambassador, but perhaps one hour from now will
be too late. One man is already dead. But, er… perhaps you don’t know this. Prime
Minister, but this week six SAS soldier are visiting the British Embassy, and they’re waiting
outside in my car now. These men know a lot about hijacks; much more than the US
Marines or, probably, your own soldiers, Prime Minister. They know exactly what to do.
So…’
‘Now just a moment!’ The American interrupted. ‘The US Marines are…’
‘Gentlemen!’ Helen’s clear, hard voice stopped them. ‘There’s no time to argue.
Firstly, I didn’t know about SAS soldier in the British Embassy, and I am very surprised
about it. Very surprise indeed, Ambassador. Secondly, I do not think it is a good idea to
attack a plane with a hundred and seven in it, and “take in apart” as you say. I want these
people to live, not die. So I thank you for your ideas, but remember that this small country
is ours, not yours. We will manage this problem in our own way, with our own people,
thank you very much. Now you must excuse me. I am busy.’
At the door, the Scotsman turned back. ‘Prime Minister, I know you want to save
lives,’ he said. ‘I understand that. But these hijackers must not go free. My Government
does not want that. No Government in the world wants that.’
‘I know that, Ambassador,’ Helen answered quietly. ‘I know that very well.’
As they went out, the phone rang. Michael picked it up. Helen sat down at the table
and watched him. His face was very serious. He wrote on a piece of paper and then put
the phone down. For a moment, he did not look at her.
‘What is it, Michael? Tell me.’
‘It was a radio message from the plane, Prime Minister.’
‘Well? What did they say? Didn’t they want to talk to me?’
‘No, Prime Minister. Just the message. It says: “We love our brothers, we hope the
Prime Minister loves her husband. He is on the plane, just behind the door.” ’
For a long moment she stared at Michael, but she did not speak. A picture of the
American passenger appeared in her head. She saw him jumping out of the door and the
girl shooting him. Shooting him for ten, maybe fifteen seconds.
‘I’m sorry, Prime Minister,’ said Michael softly.
‘What? Yes, so am I. I thought perhaps… perhaps the hijackers didn’t know Carl was
my husband. But they do know.’
She ran her hand trough her hair and then looked at her watch. But her hand was
shaking so much that she could not tell the time.
The phone rang again. Michael picked it up.
‘Colonel Carter is outside, Prime Minister.’ He watched her, waiting for an answer. ‘I’ll
tell him to wait, shall I?’
She put her hands flat on the table and stood up. ‘Yes. Yes, Michael. Tell him to wait
two minutes, that’s all.’ She walked to the window and stared out at the plane. She Skyjack!
22
pressed her forehead against the cool glass and for two minutes she did not move. Then
she turned round and smiled at Michael.
‘Let’s just hope Colonel Carter’s plan is a good one, shall we? Show him in.’In the plane, Carl and Harald sat on the floor by the door. They were handcuffed
together with Harald’s handcuffs. The girl hijacker stood watching them with her gun. The
bearded man in the Captain’s cabin, and the young man in the black shirt was watching
the other passengers.
Harald touched his head with his hand. There was blood in his hair.
‘How do you feel, my young friend?’ Carl asked.
‘It hurts,’ Harald answered. ‘And I can’t see well.’
‘This man needs a doctor,’ Carl said to the girl, angrily.
She laughed. ‘That is your wife’s problem, not mine,’ she said. ‘If our brothers come,
he will get a doctor. If they don’t come, he won’t need one.’ She pointed her gun at
Harald’s head and laughed again. She wasn’t at all nervous now.
Carl felt angry. He was angry with the hijackers and he was angry with himself
because he had not moved fast enough to help Harald. It was good to be angry; when he
was angry he did not feel so afraid.
‘How old are you?’ he asked the girl.
‘I asked you a question!’ he said. ‘How old are you? Eighteen, nineteen? You’re not
very old, really, are you? You’re just a child!’
The girl’s face went red. ‘I’m twenty,’ she said angrily. ‘I’m not a child!’
‘You look like a child,’ Carl said. ‘You’re only two years older than my daughter. Why
are you doing this?’
The girl laughed. She didn’t look at his eyes. ‘Why? You wouldn’t understand.’
‘I don’t think you understand what you’re doing,’ Carl said. ‘None of the people in this
plane has hurt you. We are all innocent. That man you killed – he wasn’t a spy, he was just
an American businessman. You’ve never seen any of us before. Why do you want to kill
us?’
The girl looked worried and angry. She pointed the gun straight at Carl’s head. ‘I don’t
want to kill you,’ she said. ‘I want your government – your wife – to set our brothers free.
‘Yes, I know,’ said Carl, carefully. He watched the gun and the girl’s face, but he was
not really afraid because he was still angry. He argued with the girl as trough he was
arguing with his daughter. ‘But remember what your brothers did. They tried to put a bomb
on a plane. They wanted to kill innocent people like us. Why?’
‘You are not innocent!’ said the girl. ‘No on is innocent! People like you, and your wife,
and that American – you have money and power and you take it from my people, from us!
Do you know now I lived when I was a child? Ten people in one room, with no bath, no
water, nothing! My parents had no jobs, no passports, no country, nothing! We lived I a
town with ten thousand others. But ten kilometres away there were rich people like you,
with big beautiful house, fine cars, fine clothes – and they were all innocent people, like
you! I tell you no one is innocent.’
She was shouting now, and nearly crying – there were tears in her eyes. Carl and
Harald watched the gun carefully. ‘Poor girl,’ Carl thought. ‘Poor little murderess.’
The bearded man came out of the Captain’s cabin and put his hand on the girl’s arm.
‘Stop it, little flower,’ he said. ‘Don’t talk to them. That’s not your job.’ Then he hit Carl in
the face. ‘Keep your mouth shut!’ he said. ‘Think about your wife instead. Do you see the
time? I think she has forgotten you!’
Carl groaned and held his mouth with his hand. There was blood in his mouth and one
of his teeth was broken. Then he looked at his watch. It was 2.23. Seven minutes left; then
the half hour was over. ‘I’m sorry, my friend,’ he whispered to Harald. ‘You tried fighting, and I tried talking.
But it didn’t work. I think this may be our last journey.Helen Sandberg decided she liked Colonel Carter. He spoke clearly, he explained his
ideas carefully, and he listened to what she said. He did not try to be difficult because she
was a woman. Best of all, they had made a plan together. A good plan, she thought; it
could really work. Perhaps.
She looked at her watch: 2.23. ‘Right, Colonel, get your men ready. I’ll send the first
prisoner down to you when they arrive yet?’
‘No, Prime Minister. Not yet.’
‘Then where the hell are they? Can you get Inspector Holm on the car radio?’
‘They’re truing, Prime Minister.’ Michael spoke into the telephone. Colonel Carter left
the room and Helen walked up and down slowly, watching the clock. 2.24. 2.25. 2.26.
‘They’ve got him, Prime Minister! He says… he says one of the cars has had an
accident in the rain. He thinks he can be here in ten minutes.’ Michael looked up. There
was no smile on his face at all now.
‘Ten minutes! What’s he driving – a police car, or a bicycle?’ Helen banged her fist on
the table. ‘We’re got four minutes left. OK. I want to talk to the hijackers. Get them on the
radio.’
She sat down at the table while Michael called the plane. Colonel Carter came in and
stood behind her. A voice came on the radio.
‘Well, Mrs Sandberg. Where are our brothers?’
‘They’re coming,’ said Helen. ‘They’ll be here in ten minutes.’
‘That is too late. I gave you half an hour. Your husband will die in four minutes.’
Helen pressed her hands flat on the table, so hard that the ends of her fingers went
white. ‘Please don’t to that,’ she said.
‘I am sorry, Mrs Sandberg. But if my brothers are not here in four minutes, your
husband will die.’
‘Don’t you want to see your brothers?’ she asked quickly. ‘I promise you, if you kill my
husband, you’ll never see them again.’
There was a pause while no one spoke. Then the radio answered. ‘Four minutes, Mrs
Sandberg.’
Helen spoke clearly, slowly, and loudly. She filled her voice with all the anger she had
in her body.