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 for ten maybe fifteen long 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 now they know.’
She ran her hand through her hand 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 hand 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 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.’
