And his son. With his hair standing on end as if he was a teenager, and an expression so angry that it made Alex shudder. They had never been able to communicate, not without falling out and starting to yell at one another. At one time, Alex had thought he would be closer to his son than his daughter, but it turned out he was wrong.
Alex focused on his job instead. None of the bomb threats had been genuine. No one had been hurt. And yet he still felt on edge.
Four bomb threats. Not one, not two, not three, but four. Aimed at different locations in inner-city Stockholm that took a huge amount of resources to evacuate and search. They had thought it might be an attempt to divert their attention from something much worse, but that hadn’t happened either. The whole thing had begun and ended with four bomb threats, made by someone in the vicinity of Arlanda, using voice distortion.
Arlanda. What the hell was the link between the bomb threats and the country’s biggest airport?
TUESDAY, 11 OCTOBER 2011
10 FLIGHT 573, 09:03
It had been a chaotic morning. For a while it had looked as if Erik was going to be late for work. first of all, the bus to the commuter train was late. Then the train to Central Station was late as well, which meant he missed the Arlanda Express he had been hoping to catch. When he eventually left on the next train, it had to travel at a reduced speed due to an earlier accident.
Erik tried not to feel stressed, but beads of sweat broke through along his hairline, and his palms were damp. He was going to have to run to the plane, which was hardly appropriate for a responsible co-pilot. Among other things – including a patch of dried baby rice on his uniform.
He had been delighted to get a job so quickly. Hard work and a natural aptitude for the profession went a long way, as it turned out. And the opportunity had been there. Very few of the other pilots were as young as Erik. He felt his stomach flip over with a sudden attack of nerves.
What if I don’t deliver? What if I’m not good enough?
His mobile rang when the train had almost reached the south platform at Arlanda.
‘I’ll be there in a minute,’ he said.
And he was.
The train slowed down and Erik hit the ground running. Claudia called; she just wanted to hear his voice one last time before they parted. In an hour or so, she and their son would be on a plane to South America, heading off to visit Claudia’s parents. Erik was on the flight to New York, and he would then follow them for a much-needed holiday. They would eat late in the evening, drink wine and dance long into the night. Lie in bed in the morning. Claudia’s mother would take care of their little boy, give them a break. In Erik’s opinion, they were doing the child a favour. It was hard work being the parent of a toddler; sometimes it was so hard that Erik would have given his right arm just to sleep through one single night. Therefore, it had to be good for both the parent and child if they had a rest from one another occasionally.
That had to mean fewer arguments and a stronger bond.
The security checks had increased and grown far more stringent in recent years. Erik couldn’t help thinking some of them were unnecessary. As long as people were allowed to carry several litres of alcohol on board, there was little point in X-raying their hand luggage and asking them to remove items such as nail scissors.
Erik was allowed to go to the front of the queue for the X-ray machines. The security guard gave him a nod of recognition.
‘Running late?’
‘Too bloody right.’
They did their best to speed up the process. It was only a question of minutes, then he would be on his way. Erik placed his bag on the conveyor belt and walked through the metal detector. Picked up his bag and ran.
He could see his colleague in the distance. Karim Sassi, a man Claudia had once referred to as ‘the most handsome man she had ever seen’. With a certain amount of reluctance, Erik had to admit that Karim looked good. He was six foot four, dark and charismatic. The main thing that made Karim Sassi so attractive was his cheerful expression and the energy radiating from his brown eyes. ‘Eyes you could drown in,’ Claudia had commented, before Erik stated firmly that he didn’t want to hear any more about how fantastic his colleague was.
But to tell the truth, Erik really liked Karim. They had worked together for several months, and knew each other well by this stage. They had even started spending some time together outside work; Erik hoped their friendship would deepen, because he enjoyed Karim’s company.
Karim was facing the window, but Erik could see his profile. Tense jaw line, eyes half closed. Always equally focused before a flight. He would never dream of having a couple of drinks and falling asleep, like certain other pilots.
Erik covered the last few yards at speed.
‘I thought I was going to have to fly without a co-pilot today,’ Karim said.
‘The bus was late so I missed the commuter train. And then the Arlanda Express was delayed as well.’
Karim looked annoyed, but made no further comment on Erik’s timekeeping.
‘Let’s go,’ he said.
Erik couldn’t stop himself. He wasn’t that bloody late!
‘Has something happened?’
Karim ran a hand through his unruly black hair.
‘No, I just like everything to be in order. And I’ve had a report that a severe storm is due to come in over the east coast of the US during the day.’
‘Damn. Could that cause us problems with landing?’
‘It looks that way. But I’ve asked for additional fuel so that we can stay in the air for a few hours if necessary. Or divert elsewhere.’
‘How many extra hours did you request?’
‘Five.’
Karim turned away from Erik and headed towards the aircraft.
They took off at nine thirty, exactly as planned.
The sky was different above the clouds. Clearer. An endless space where there were no problems. Erik knew why he had become a pilot. To be a part of all this. Something bigger than himself. The very idea made his head spin. Just knowing that he was thirty thousand feet above the surface of the earth right now got the adrenalin pumping.
I will never get tired of this.
The cockpit doorbell rang. Karim glanced at the monitor to see who wanted to come in. It was Fatima, one of the stewardesses. She rang again. Karim pressed the button to release the lock; Fatima came in and closed the door behind her.
Her face was ashen. Erik had never liked that expression, but now he realised that was because he had never before seen anyone whose face had lost all its colour. Her lips were so pale they looked bloodless.
‘I found this in the toilet,’ she said, handing Karim a folded piece of paper.
Karim opened it and began to read.
‘What does it say?’ Erik asked.
‘They’re threatening to blow up the plane,’ Fatima said.
‘What? Who’s threatening to blow up the plane?’
Fatima didn’t answer.
‘Where did you find this?’ Karim asked.
‘In the toilet in first class. When I went to check if there was enough toilet paper.’
‘Have any of the passengers seen it?’
‘I’ve no idea. But I don’t think so – they would have said something.’
Erik spoke up: ‘We’ve just turned off the sign telling them to fasten their seat belts; how many of them would have had time to go to the toilet?’
‘Not very many,’ Fatima whispered.
‘More like none,’ Erik said. ‘Can I see what it says?’
There were only a few lines written on the piece of paper. Erik passed it back to Karim, trying to stop his hand from trembling.
‘How the hell did it get in the toilet?’ he asked.
‘It must have been there when we took off,’ Fatima replied.
‘But who could have put it there?’