‘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’ve 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 do 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.’
