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plane. Now his eyes were scanning over the bewildering array of instruments before him. It took a couple of minutes for him to work out what was what – he had only ever flown much simpler aircraft than this before – but eventually he felt comfortable with it. He breathed deeply and calmly as his body warmed up.
     
Looking out over the sea and sky that stretched before him, he felt a sense of peace, as though the whole world was his. He was lucky to have got this far, and now there was really nothing that could stop him from doing what he had to do. Even if he didn't hit his target, he would be able to ensure a successful outcome. He would be able to make sure the plane went down. But for now he could just sit here. The aircraft was on course and he didn't need to do anything. Not yet. Let the passengers calm down first, and then he would tell them what the future held.
     
Yes, he thought to himself once more. It was only fair that they should know why they were going to die before it happened.
     
 
     
The moment the hijacker had made his announcement, the whole cabin had dissolved into chaos.
     
All the passengers were standing up now, and some of them had rushed into the aisle. Ben's ears were filled with shouting and crying – the sound of panic and distress. The cabin staff were shouting too, trying to get everyone to sit down, to remain calm. But they didn't seem to be having any effect.
     
Ben felt the big hand of the bodyguard on his shoulder. When he spoke, his voice was quietly reassuring, but firm. 'You need to go and sit with Angelo. Try and keep calm.'
     
Ben didn't move. There were too many unanswered questions in his mind. 'If the cockpit door is locked,' he asked, 'how did anyone get in there?'
     
'I don't know,' replied the bodyguard. He looked just as confused as Ben.
     
'You think it's one of the pilots?'
     
They were interrupted by the air steward. 'It's not a pilot,' he said breathlessly. 'I know them both well. I'd recognize the voice.'
     
'This plane's going to Miami. What will the Americans do?' Ben asked. 'If they realize we've been hijacked, I mean.'
     
The bodyguard and the air steward gave each other a meaningful glance, but they didn't answer. 'Go and sit down, son,' Ben was told. 'Leave this to us.'
     
Ben thought of arguing, but in the end he did as he was told. As he worked his way back up to his seat, he noticed that most of the passengers had also sat down, but there was still the noise of terrified voices in the air. Ben wondered how long it would be before the panic gripped them again. Not very, probably.
     
Angelo was ashen-faced. 'Do you think this is because of me?' he asked immediately as Ben pushed past him to take his seat.
     
'How can it be?' Ben replied. 'You weren't even meant to be on this plane.'
     
Angelo furrowed his brow and nodded. 'I suppose so,' he muttered, but something in his voice suggested he wasn't convinced. 'Do you think we're going to die?'
     
Ben glanced out of the window. It was a question he'd been asking himself. For a moment he didn't answer; he just stared into the blue of the sea thousands of feet below. He took a deep, determined breath, then looked back at Angelo. 'No,' he said firmly. 'Trust me. I've been in risky situations before. We're not going to die. We're probably just going to be used for ransom and—'
     
'I think we are going to die,' Angelo interrupted. He was breathing nervously, in short gasps. 'Think about it, Ben. As soon as the Americans know the plane has been hijacked, they will blow us from the sky. They won't want another 9/11 on their hands.'
     
Ben blinked. He remembered how the bodyguard and air steward had avoided answering his question. Now he knew why. He tried to think of an argument against Angelo's nightmare scenario, but he couldn't.
     
'I don't think we've gone off course yet,' he said. 'No one will know anything's wrong unless they try to make radio contact with the pilot. But even then, the hijacker