فصل 15

Chapter 15

Helen Sandberg heard the bangs too, and when she saw the white light, she thought the plane was burning. For about half a minute there was nothing but loud bangs and white flashes, and then there was nothing. There were no lights at all in the plane and no sounds either.

She turned to Michael. ‘Can’t you get them on the radio?’

‘I’m trying, Prime Minister. But I think it’s broken.’

She walked to the door. ‘I’m going out.’

Inspector Holm stood in front of her. ‘You must not do that, Prime Minister. We don’t know what’s happens to me.’

He was a big man but he was afraid of her. She walked straight past him and down the steps. In the departure lounge there was a crowd of passengers waiting to get on other planes, and also a lot of doctors, police, and newspaper journalists. She walked straight past them all and out onto the tarmac. It was dark and cold, and the wind blew rain into her face. When she was about fifty metres away from the building she heard some people behind her, but she did not stop.

The door of the plane opened and a man in white came out. He had a gun in his hand and he came backwards down the steps. After him came two men in yellow raincoats with their hands their backs, and then two other men in white with guns.

Two police officers came after her.

‘Wait, Prime Minister,’ they said. ‘Please stop, it’s dangerous.’

‘Not now,’ she said. ‘It’s a dangerous any more.’ She walked on through the rain without stopping, and the young police officers walked beside her. They were afraid to touch her and they did not know what to do. Some journalist ran after them.

Two men in blue came out of the plane – the pilot and co-pilot. Then some men in suits. She was quiet near the plane now and there were quiet a lot of newspaper photographers around her, bur she did not stop walking.

A big young man came out of the plane with a short, thin, grey-haired one – Harald and Carl. Helen could see that Carl’s face was very white and there was blood in his mouth, but he could walk all right.

Carl saw her coming, a small strong figure walking through the rain, with a crowd of police and photographers around her. ‘Harald, my friend,’ he said. ‘I think we’re in the news again. You’re going to have another photo to show your little son in his birthday.’ Carl and Helen Sandberg met at the bottom of the steps in the darkness and the rain.

And Carl was right; there was a photo of it in every newspaper in the world the next day.