Now. It has to be now. Not later, now. Now.
He had taken no more than two steps when he heard a man’s voice behind him, addressing him in English.
‘Excuse me.’
Erik turned around, not wanting to draw any more attention to himself than necessary. But it was already too late; he realised that as he looked around and saw all the passengers gazing enquiringly at him.
‘Unfortunately, I don’t have time to talk right now,’ he said. ‘You’ll have to speak to one of the stewardesses.’
‘That was my intention, but then I saw you,’ the man said. ‘The stewardess who went into the cockpit is still in there, I think.’
The man gave Erik a meaningful look, as if he was silently referring to some kind of mutual understanding between them, but, as far as Erik was aware, they had never met before.
He looked the man up and down. He wasn’t very tall, but even though he was wearing a shirt and jacket, Erik could see that he was unmistakably muscular; he obviously spent a considerable amount of time working out. His shirt hung loose over his trousers, but judging by the creases around the bottom, it had been tucked in until fairly recently.
When Erik didn’t say anything, the man went on:
‘The fact is that I’d much rather talk to you. Can you spare a few seconds?’
He was speaking so quietly that Erik was sure none of the passengers could hear him, but they could still see the two of them standing here talking.
‘No,’ Erik said, keen to get back to the cockpit. ‘You’ll have to wait for the stewardess – she’ll be back in a minute.’
It happened so fast that Erik didn’t have time to react. In less than a second, the man had stepped around him and was now standing in the aisle, preventing him from going anywhere. The man moved as close as possible, and for some reason Erik was rooted to the spot.
The man whispered in his ear:
‘I know what’s happened and I can help you if you just get me into the cockpit. Okay?’
Erik jerked back, involuntarily but so obviously that the man couldn’t help but notice. Through clenched teeth he muttered:
‘I don’t know who you think you are, but I’d like you to do us all a favour: go back to your seat and let the crew take care of the plane.’
He didn’t bother waiting for a reply, but shoved past the man. His heart was pounding so hard it almost hurt. So there was more than one perpetrator on board. No fucking way was Erik about to let any of them into the cockpit. Not without a fight.
Each step took him closer to the cockpit door; only when he reached it did he glance over his shoulder to see if the man was following him. Which he was. He was dangerously close, less than two feet away.
The bottle. What if he needed to use it before he got to Karim?
Erik had no time to think. He let the man draw closer, and just as he was about to turn and confront him with everything he had, the man strode forward and pushed him up against the door.
‘I’m on your side, for fuck’s sake. I’m with a special unit in the US military. Don’t make me do something unpleasant in front of the other passengers. Just get that fucking door open. Right now.’
His voice was no more than a hiss, and it made Erik feel sick.
Why would he act like this if he was on Erik’s side?
Special unit? What kind of a joke was that? If he couldn’t come up with anything better, he had only himself to blame.
‘Okay, okay. I’ll help you.’
Erik had to free himself from the man’s grip in order to deal with him. He wanted to ask him who he was, who he worked for. But there wasn’t time, and besides he wasn’t interested in any more lies. He already knew who the man was, knew he was evil. His build and attitude conveyed something that Erik couldn’t put into words. He looked like someone who was used to being obeyed and treated with respect.
But not this time.
‘No fucking way are we on the same side.’
As the man loosened his hold, Erik acted with a strength he hadn’t realised he possessed. Without taking the bottle out of the bag, he slammed it straight into the man’s temple.
Hard.
The man groaned and tried to clutch at Erik before he went down. He crashed to the floor, landing at the feet of the passengers in the front row, who screamed in terror as Erik raised the bottle to strike again; it hadn’t broken.
He bent down and examined the man, who was bleeding. He was breathing, but appeared to be unconscious. Without hesitation Erik removed the man’s belt, turned him over and secured his hands behind his back. He spoke to the passengers:
‘I’m sorry you had to see that. If you’d like to change seats, you’re welcome to do so, but I’m afraid this man has to stay here.’
He had to get into the cockpit, get Fatima out so that she could keep an eye on the man, sound the alarm if he started to constitute a danger.
Without another word, Erik got to his feet and moved over to the door. Pressed the button and waited to be let in. Pressed it again. And again.
And again.
And again.
But the door remained locked, leaving Erik standing in the aisle with the plastic bag in his hand.
Karim had no intention of letting him in.
He was going to do what he had set out to do, and kill them all.
52 WASHINGTON, DC, 14:15
Why hadn’t they heard from him?
It must be half an hour since the Pentagon had instructed their man on board, and Bruce was waiting in his office, unable to settle. The man should have managed to get into the cockpit by this stage. The chances of not finding a stewardess who was willing to help him were infinitesimal, so what could have happened?
Bruce went over to his boss’s office.
‘We ought to inform the Swedes,’ he said.
‘We wait. It’s better to call them with a success story when it’s all over.’
‘They ought to have the same information as us,’ Bruce insisted.
‘Why? Neither of us has any real chance of influencing the situation on board. It’s hardly likely that they’ve set up a parallel operation that could jeopardise ours.’
Bruce didn’t agree, however.
‘They were talking about trying to get hold of the co-pilot, to see if he could take over the plane.’
‘But surely, if something like that was under way, they would have informed us?’
Bruce said nothing. If Washington wasn’t keeping Stockholm up to speed, then why should they assume that the reverse was true?
‘Okay, you’re right,’ Bruce’s boss said when he realised what Bruce was thinking.‘Contact Stockholm and give them an update.’
Bruce felt relieved. He had a feeling that poor communication had cost them valuable time, and possibly put the entire operation at risk. There was just one more thing he wanted to discuss with his boss.
‘Karim Sassi?’ he said.
‘Something of an enigma.’
‘What’s his motivation? He’s not a Muslim. Admittedly, he had a photograph of Zakaria Khelifi in his house, but no one has been able to confirm that the two men are close, or even move in the same circles. And why the hell did he decide to include Tennyson Cottage in his note?’
Bruce’s boss signalled to him to come into his office and close the door.
‘Someone must be lying,’ he said. ‘There has to be a connection between Zakaria Khelifi, Tennyson Cottage, and Karim Sassi.’
Bruce had been thinking exactly the same thing.
‘Why aren’t they prepared to tell us anything?’ he said, referring to the Pentagon and the CIA. ‘They’re risking the lives of hundreds of people.’
‘I think they’re keeping quiet because they’re hoping it won’t be necessary to reveal whatever it might be. There’s something so sensitive about Tennyson Cottage that they’ve chosen to play their cards like this instead of doing the right thing.’
‘People will ask questions,’ Bruce said. ‘They must realise that themselves; the newspapers are already crying out for more information. Regardless of whether we manage to rescue the plane or not, there will be consequences. And whatever they are hiding now is bound to come out. It’s inevitable.’