Carl looked through the window and watched the cars arrive at the airport building. There were a lot of cars now and a lot of lights in the building. Inside the plane it was hot and quiet. There was nothing to do. He remembered other times when he had been in a plane at night with his wife and daughter. That had been fun because they were excited and going on holiday. His daughter had always asked lots of questions in the plane. Now no one said anything at all. Carl sat, and thought, and felt his face becoming wet with sweat.

"Your passports, please!"

"What?" He turned suddenly. One of the hijackers, a young man in a black shirt, was just behind them. He had a bag in his hand and he was taking everyone's passports and putting them in it.

"Why…?"

…

…

…

 

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