The hours were passing quickly. Too quickly. And so far they had no idea how they were going to prevent the disaster that was moving closer and closer by the minute. By this stage no one really believed that the problem would be solved before the plane reached New York. Instead, they were all thanking the weather gods for the predicted storm, and Karim Sassi’s decision to request extra fuel. Fredrika Bergman wondered what he would have done if it hadn’t been for the grim forecast. Would he still have asked for more fuel, or would he have simply taken off with only enough for the estimated flight time?
Fredrika, Alex and Eden were on their way to a Säpo conference room where they were due to meet CIA agents. Fredrika had several male friends who would have sold their own children for the opportunity of meeting someone who worked for the CIA, but she wasn’t quite so easily impressed. The current image of the organisation was far too tainted by the reports of outrages which had followed in the wake of the war on terror.
The Americans were already waiting. Inconspicuous men whom Fredrika would barely have noticed on the street. On closer inspection, they all looked very much alike. Same height, same hair colour, same haircut. When they shook hands, she noticed that they did so with the same level of firmness. Strong, but not so firm that it became unpleasant.
Eden hadn’t been very keen on the idea of allowing Fredrika and Alex to attend the meeting, on the basis that they would be discussing sensitive intelligence. The Americans might feel inhibited if outsiders came along. It was decided that Fredrika and Alex would be there for the first part of the meeting while Karim Sassi was under consideration. Then they would have to leave, because Eden and the CIA agents would be moving on to another matter that Eden wasn’t prepared to go into.
They had only just sat down when one of the CIA agents said, ‘Good to put a face to the name, Eden. Up to now, we’ve only spoken on the phone.’
Eden smiled and said that it was good to meet him too.
‘Didn’t you used to work in the UK? For the British Intelligence Service?’
Eden’s smile became rather strained, but she didn’t react as strongly as Fredrika might have done.
‘That’s right.’
‘I think we spoke back then too.’
‘Perhaps we did.’
‘We’re very familiar with your name, let me tell you.’
It could have been meant as a compliment, but Fredrika could see that it wasn’t. She noticed that Eden had reached the same conclusion. Slowly she put down her notepad and stared at the man who had spoken to her.
It looked as if she was trying to tell him something. Not now.
Eden won, because one of the other Americans took over and thanked Säpo for calling the meeting. They were all curious to hear what the Swedish investigation had come up with so far.
‘We’re happy to share everything we have, but with the proviso that the exchange is mutual, of course.’
‘No problem.’
After two seconds Fredrika realised that there was nothing straightforward about this transaction. Intelligence was a world of its own. Nowhere else was it so true that knowledge was power. And knowledge was something to be bargained over.
However, Eden refused to play second fiddle, and the discussions were tough. Gradually she revealed what they knew about Karim Sassi, while at the same time she tried to milk the Americans for the information they had.
The CIA were very interested in Sassi.
‘Have you spoken to his mother and Zakaria Khelifi’s uncle about the time when Khelifi knew Sassi back in 2002?’ they asked Eden after she had told them about her interview with Zakaria.
‘Not yet.’
Fredrika knew that they had got hold of both of them, and would be questioning them after the meeting with the CIA.
‘Is Karim Sassi the only person on the plane that came up as a match on your database?’
To Fredrika’s surprise, Eden said, ‘No.’
Fredrika could see that this was news to Alex as well.
‘Just before we came down here, I was told that we had a match on two other names,’ Eden said.
‘Passengers or crew?’
‘Passengers. Two Swedish citizens who figured in an investigation a few years ago. We’ve heard nothing of them since, and the case is closed. Therefore, we don’t regard these matches as being of interest.’
‘We’d like to know what the investigation was about, and we’d also like the names of the two passengers.’
‘No,’ Eden said.
‘No?’
‘Tell me what you have instead.’
The CIA agents looked at each other, and the one on the far right started talking.
‘We also believe that Karim Sassi is the person on board who could be linked to the hijacking.’
‘And how did you reach that conclusion?’
‘Unfortunately, I can’t tell you that.’
‘You have information that suggests Karim Sassi is a terrorist, but you can’t tell me where it came from?’
‘That’s the problem. It’s not our own information, which means there are issues when it comes to passing it on.’
The third-country rule. A security service must be certain that any information it decided to share would not be passed on. Although she didn’t have any proof, Fredrika suspected there were many occasions on which this rule was disregarded.
‘I understand that,’ Eden said. ‘But as we have so little time in this case, I expect you to go back to whoever you are working with, and to request permission to share that information with us. Anything else is unacceptable.’
The man who had just spoken sank back in his seat. Fredrika felt naive as she realised that the whole thing was nothing more than a charade. They had already decided to pass on all the information they had, as long as they got something in exchange.
‘So what about those two passengers you mentioned, the ones whose names had come up in a preliminary investigation?’
Eden got to her feet; she had probably seen through the Americans’ tactics long before Fredrika.
‘It’s obvious we’re not going to get any further with this. Thank you for taking the time to come here.’
Her manoeuvre rattled the CIA agents.
‘Hey, hang on a minute…’
‘No, you hang on.’
Fredrika would never have guessed that Eden was capable of shouting the way she did now. A woman who raised her voice could easily come across as hysterical or coarse, but that definitely didn’t apply to Eden, who in spite of her femininity looked mentally stronger than anyone else in the room.
‘Four hundred Swedish and American citizens are trapped on a plane with a captain who is very probably involved in a plot that could kill them all. If that’s not enough to secure full co-operation, then I have no fucking intention of sitting here bargaining with you.’
She remained standing for a full thirty seconds after she had finished speaking, then one of the Americans broke the silence.
‘I apologise for the misunderstanding which seems to have arisen. Naturally, we will share with you all the information we can. Perhaps you’d like to sit down again?’
He waved his hand in a gesture that was more pleading that authoritative.
Eden sat down. Two strands of hair fell down over her face, but she didn’t bother to brush them aside.
‘The information comes from Germany.’
‘Germany?’
Eden couldn’t hide her surprise.
‘We received it from the Germans last week.’
Time stood still in the room. Pink blotches appeared on Eden’s cheeks.
‘Last week? Are you saying you knew this was going to happen a week ago? And you didn’t tell us?’
Now it was the CIA agent’s turn to get angry.
‘Of course not! What the fuck are you suggesting? Last week, we were told that a plane would be hijacked, that a bomb threat would be left on a plane that was already in the air. It would take off from a European airport, and there would be American citizens on board. According to the original intelligence, demands would be made only of the US government. Tennyson Cottage was explicitly mentioned. And the captain would be involved, and would be given special instructions.’