He remembered other times when he had been in a plane at night with his wife and daughter. That had been fun because they were excited and going on holiday. His daughter had always asked lots of questions in the plane. No one said anything at all. Carl sat, and thought, and felt his face becoming wet with sweat.
‘Your passports, please!’
‘What?’ he turned suddenly. One of the hijackers, a young man in a black shirt, was just behind them. He had a bag in his hand and he was taking everyone’s passports and putting them in it.
‘Why …?’
‘Be quiet!’ Harald whispered. ‘Let me talk, sir. Remember?’
‘Your passports, please.’ The young man stood by their seats.
‘Here you are.’ Harald gave the man his passport.
‘Thank you. And his?’
‘ He has no passport. I am a police officer and he is my prisoner. I am taking him to prison in my country.’
‘I see.’ The young man looked at them both in surprise.
‘Stand up, you!’
