‘If you think it will change anything, then go for it.’ He shrugged and took a sip of his coffee.
Fredrika suddenly felt a wave of tiredness. ‘What do you mean?’
‘I mean what I say,’ Alex replied. ‘We’re fiddling about, doing a little bit here, a little bit there. Following leads in a thousand directions and getting precisely nowhere. Like the Keystone Kops.’
‘Everything has happened so fast, Alex. And we have so little time.’
Alex put down his cup with a bang. ‘We’ve got to decide which direction we’re going in,’ he said, sounding agitated. ‘Either we save the plane and everyone on board, or we investigate the question of who’s to blame. One or the other, you choose. We can’t do both at the same time. And if we choose to focus on who’s to blame, which is obviously what we are doing, then the plane is doomed.’
‘You don’t think we can stop this by finding whoever is behind the whole thing?’
‘We already know who’s behind it; he’s sitting at the controls on board the plane!’
Alex turned away.
I don’t need to see your anger, Alex; I can feel it anyway.
‘So what do you suggest?’
‘That we forget about everything else and concentrate on one thing, and one thing only – getting that bloody plane down by letting Erik take over.’
It was difficult to contradict him.
‘But that’s what we’re doing,’ Fredrika said, lowering her voice as she did when she was talking to her children, trying to calm them down. ‘None of us believes that Karim is the only person behind all this, which means that none of us knows how everything fits together, and how best to proceed.’
Fredrika was still thinking about Zakaria.
Zakaria and Tennyson Cottage.
What was the connection?
‘Is Zakaria Khelifi the main focus here, or Tennyson Cottage?’ she wondered.
‘The bomb threats came before the government’s decision to deport Zakaria.’
‘But the hijacking came after.’
Fredrika reached for a glass and filled it with water. There was a link between Zakaria Khelifi and Tennyson Cottage, just as there was between the bomb threats and the hijacking – there had to be. And they wouldn’t get anywhere until they worked out what it was.
It was like wading through glue. The investigation had been going on for less than one full working day, but Fredrika was as exhausted as if it had been going on for weeks.
‘We’re getting nowhere,’ she said.
‘That’s exactly what I said,’ Alex replied, his voice hoarse and subdued. ‘I don’t understand what kind of breakthrough we’re supposed to be waiting for. The plane has been hijacked, and the person responsible is in control of the cockpit. That’s the situation, and we have to act accordingly.’
Fredrika nodded and put down her glass. Alex was right, but she wasn’t ready to support his suggestion that Erik should take over.
‘I’ll go and check those phone records.’
She went back to her desk, leaving Alex alone in the kitchen. The lack of time wasn’t their biggest problem. The real issue was that they had no strategy for what they were going to do when time ran out.
Trying to stop the plane from using up fuel was like trying to stop the sand from trickling through an hourglass.
It took Eden Lundell less than a minute to realise that the case of the hijacked plane had taken a different turn. They met in a windowless room at Rosenbad: Eden and GD from Säpo, the Prime Minister, the Foreign Secretary and the Minister for Justice, plus a handful of civil servants from the relevant departments.
‘Sit down,’ the PM said.
His voice was harsh and impatient, as if he had asked them several times to sit down without anyone taking any notice. Everyone immediately did as they were told. The door leading to the corridor was already closed. Eden noticed that not one but two people checked to make sure it was locked.
What the hell is going on here? And why are we on the back foot?
The PM wasted no time.
‘We were contacted by the US government less than an hour ago. As expected, the hijacking of Flight 573 has caused consternation on the other side of the Atlantic, not least because of information indicating that the pilot is working with the hijackers. The US authorities have already contacted Karim Sassi to inform the crew that the plane will not be allowed to enter US airspace under present circumstances, and that they must therefore remain in international airspace until the situation is resolved. If the captain decides to attempt to land the plane within the jurisdiction of some other country, the Americans have no problem with that; the only thing they will not accept is a violation of US airspace.’
Eden raised her hand a fraction, requesting permission to speak.
‘What information have the Americans given Karim Sassi? Does he know we believe he’s involved in the hijacking?’
‘No,’ the PM said. ‘According to the Americans, they have been very low key in their communication with the aircraft. All they’ve said is that under the present circumstances they regard the plane as a security risk, and are therefore instructing the pilot to remain outside US airspace.’
Eden thought that sounded logical. However, she also thought the hijackers had already foreseen the US reaction, and wondered what would happen next.
Which raised the question of why the hijackers hadn’t made direct contact with either the police or the government. They had heard nothing. What did that suggest? That they expected their demands to be met in full? Or the reverse – that they knew they would be rejected, and therefore didn’t need any channels of communication?
This hijacking was running contrary to all previous experience. Hijackers usually lost patience, insisted on negotiations, fought for what they wanted. They would also try to speed up the process, raise the stakes in order to force the authorities to make concessions. But in the case of Flight 573, the stakes were not being raised at all. Everything was on the table already.
Over four hundred passengers at thirty thousand feet.
‘So what does that mean in words of one syllable?’ GD asked.
‘What?’ said the PM.
‘The fact that the plane won’t be allowed into US airspace.’
‘If Karim Sassi has any sense at all, he will obey their orders and stay in international airspace.’
Only then did Eden realise why they had been summoned to Rosenbad at such short notice, and why the Americans had passed on their message to the Swedish government rather than Säpo.
But GD didn’t get it.
‘Sooner or later, the plane will run out of fuel,’ he said. ‘And they already know that the pilot is working with the hijackers, yet they still expect Karim to obey their orders?’
Eden felt as if all the air had been sucked out of the room. Without thinking about what she was doing, she placed a hand on GD’s shoulder.
‘Not necessarily,’ the PM said grimly; his face had lost all its colour. ‘We have to understand the American perspective, even if we don’t sympathise with it. It’s ten years since 9/11. They will never risk such an attack happening again. Not if they have the chance to prevent it, which they believe they have in this case.’
GD had nothing to say this time. When the Prime Minister spoke again, Eden already knew what he was going to say.
‘If Karim Sassi decides to defy the order to stay away from US airspace, they will shoot down the plane as soon as it crosses the US border.’
41
FLIGHT 573
The knock on the door made both Erik Recht and Karim Sassi jump. The silence in the cockpit had been almost palpably dense since their last discussion, and Erik was deep in thought. He had to get out, but without rousing Karim’s suspicions so that he would stop him from coming back in. And he had to get hold of his father.
Erik glanced at the small screen and saw Fatima. Karim pressed the release button and Erik quickly opened the door.
&
nbsp; ‘It’s happened,’ she said, closing the door behind her.
Erik immediately turned around, but it was a few seconds before Karim looked at Fatima.
‘What has?’ Erik asked.
‘One of the passengers switched on his mobile and got a text from his family.’
‘Fuck,’ Erik said. ‘How the hell did that happen? Don’t tell me he’s started talking to the other passengers.’
‘No, he came straight to me. Twice.’
Erik could see that she hadn’t told them everything.
‘What did you say to him?’ Karim wanted to know.
Fatima bit her lower lip.
‘The first time he spoke to me when I was passing his seat, and I lied. But then he came to find me in the galley, and this time he was more upset. He was waving his phone around, and he showed me the message from his mother. I had to be straight with him,’ she said.
‘You told him the truth? You confirmed that the plane is under threat?’
‘What was I supposed to do?’ Fatima said, looking angry and upset at the same time. ‘He didn’t believe it was a coincidence that his mother’s text arrived just after you’d said we were going to be delayed by several hours.’
Erik understood that Fatima had been left with no choice, and he knew that Karim felt the same. However, Karim still looked agitated, as if he hadn’t expected that one of the passengers would eventually begin to suspect that something wasn’t right.
‘We need to make some kind of announcement,’ Erik said to Karim. ‘More people are going to start wondering. You can’t just say we’re going to arrive several hours late because of bad weather.’
If we get there at all, a little voice whispered inside his head.
Erik swallowed hard. He had no intention of dying. He had just become a father, and at long last he had stability in his life. He had a wife whom he loved, and a home they had built up together.
‘No,’ Karim said. ‘We have to avoid unrest at all costs. I intend to wait as long as possible before telling the passengers what’s happened.’
Unrest.
What did that look like in a plane that was flying at thirty thousand feet? People were hardly likely to start fighting to get off first, which would have been the logical aim if they had been on a bus or in a shop that had received a bomb threat.
Erik thought it over, and concluded that he didn’t agree with Karim.
‘People have the right to know,’ he said.
‘The right to know what?’ Karim said.
Erik felt as if his throat was closing up.
That this might be the day when they’re going to die.
‘That we’re under threat,’ he said.
‘And what are they going to do with that information?’ Karim’s voice was so devoid of emotion that Erik broke out in a cold sweat. ‘If you haven’t realised it yet, there isn’t a damned thing any of us can do to change the situation.’
What was it that Karim didn’t want to reveal? What had happened that would explain his incomprehensible behaviour?
‘You have to talk to us, Karim,’ Erik said. ‘What’s going on here?’
Karim turned away and retreated into silence once more.
Erik tried to touch his arm, but Karim moved out of reach.
‘Speak to the passenger and ask him to return to his seat,’ Karim said. ‘And ask him to keep quiet. Tell him he’s endangering his own safety as well as everyone else’s if he starts talking.’
Fatima stared at Karim’s back.
‘It might be a good idea if one of you spoke to him,’ she said. ‘His name is Joakim.’
‘I can go,’ Erik said. ‘I can have a word with the crew at the same time.’
His heart was racing. At last he had a reason to leave the cockpit without it looking odd, but he still didn’t trust Karim.
‘You stay here,’ he said to Fatima, who looked confused.
Erik felt something like fear spreading through his body. If Fatima didn’t stay in the cockpit, he couldn’t risk going out.
‘It will look odd if we both go,’ he said. ‘I’ll go and speak to this guy while you wait here.’
Fatima still looked as if she didn’t understand, but at least she seemed to realise that her co-operation was important to Erik.
‘Okay,’ she said.
Just as Erik unfastened his seatbelt, another call came through. Judging by Karim’s reaction, he was equally surprised; the voice they heard was speaking in English.
‘Flight 573, respond immediately. Over.’
Karim answered as required.
‘Captain Sassi, this is Andrew Hoffman, US military air surveillance. Can you hear me?’
‘We can hear you.’
Erik didn’t move a muscle. Fatima was still standing by the door.
‘I am contacting you on behalf of the US Department of Defense and the US government. It is extremely important that you listen very carefully to what I have to say, and that you obey to the letter the orders I am about to give you.’
Karim’s face was white, his lips compressed into a thin line as he listened to the American voice.
‘You have already been asked to remain outside US airspace. The following conditions apply for the remainder of your journey: you will not be given permission to cross our border at any stage. It is up to you as the captain of Flight 573 to ensure that the plane remains in international airspace, or to travel to an alternative destination outside the borders of the USA. Is that clear?’
The voice died away and waited for a response.
‘Captain Sassi, did you understand what I just said?’ Andrew Hoffman asked.
Karim wiped his brow with the back of his hand. ‘I understand,’ he replied.
‘Good, in that case we don’t foresee any problems.’
It sounded as if Hoffman was about to end the conversation, but both Erik and Karim had a number of questions.
‘Sooner or later, we will run out of fuel,’ Karim said. ‘Will we be given permission to make an emergency landing?’
The loudspeaker crackled.
‘Captain Sassi, you just said you understood the orders I gave you.’
‘Yes, but when the fuel runs out, I have two alternatives: either I crash the plane, or I attempt an emergency landing. Therefore, the latter option seems the most reasonable course of action.’
Erik let out a sigh of relief. He thought Karim had ruled out an emergency landing after the conversation with the police.
‘In that case, you will have to do that somewhere else,’ Andrew Hoffman said.
What the fuck was going on here?
Karim looked almost panic-stricken, and Erik felt the same.
‘What the hell are you talking about?’ Karim said. ‘I am the captain of a plane with over four hundred passengers on board. I must have the chance to save them all from certain death.’
‘I’m sure you will have that chance, Captain Sassi,’ Hoffman said. ‘In some other country.’
The alarm bells inside Erik’s head were so loud he thought it might explode.
‘You don’t understand,’ Karim said. ‘I have to land in the USA.’
Why? Erik wondered.
‘I would advise you to change course immediately and prepare for an emergency landing somewhere other than your original destination,’ Hoffman said implacably. ‘I’m sorry, but the United States government does not negotiate with terrorists who are holding American citizens hostage. Unfortunately.’
Karim looked as if he was about to burst into tears.
‘What the hell is wrong with you?’ he yelled. ‘I must be allowed to land, surely that’s obvious?’
‘You are allowed to land,’ Andrew Hoffman said. ‘But not here.’
‘What’s your response to the hijackers’ demands?’
‘I repeat: the United States government does not negotiate with terrorists. Your flight will not be granted permission to land. If you still insist on entering US airspace, the plane will
be shot down.’
Shot down? Erik sat there, overcome by a kind of paralysis.
‘But you must have heard what was in the note,’ Karim said. ‘You have only as much time as it takes for us to use up the fuel we have on board.’
‘Exactly. In which case, I suggest, as I have already said several times, that you prepare for an emergency landing elsewhere. If you want to risk it, that is.’
‘If we run out of fuel I won’t have any choice,’ Karim said.
‘I think maybe you should read the note again,’ Hoffman said. ‘Because, according to our information, it states that if any attempt at an emergency landing is made, regardless of whether you have run out of fuel or not, the plane will be blown up. Isn’t that right?’
There was something about Andrew Hoffman’s tone of voice that made Erik shudder. As if there was an implicit message in his words that only Karim understood.
When Karim didn’t reply, Hoffman continued:
‘Good, in that case we understand each other. Over and out.’
And he was gone.
Karim looked as if he had been turned to stone.
‘Fuck,’ he whispered.
‘What’s going on?’ Fatima asked. ‘Did he say they were going to shoot us down?’
‘The bastards won’t let us in,’ Karim said.
Erik forced himself to take several deep breaths, then he turned to Karim.
‘We have to do as he says. We have to try for an emergency landing somewhere else. We need to call Canada or Mexico right away, to ask if they can help us.’
What the hell do we do if they won’t give us permission to land either?
‘I don’t understand,’ Fatima said. ‘Why won’t they let us in?’
Karim didn’t reply; Erik’s heart was pounding like a sledgehammer. Now more than ever he knew he had to get hold of his father. The Americans’ stance was completely illogical. Even if you took the bomb threat into account, it still didn’t make any sense.
Resolutely, he got to his feet, hoping that Karim wouldn’t notice how tense and nervous he was.
‘Fatima, stay here while I go and talk to the guy who got the text message.’
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