Hostage by Kristina Ohlsson

wanted to add, but felt it was too personal.
    Eden sat down at her desk and gazed at Alex.
    ‘I understand,’ she said.
    She rifled through a pile of papers in front of her and extracted a document.
    ‘Oh, yes, it’s on here,’ she said. ‘Erik Recht is your son?’
    ‘Yes.’
    Alex drank some more coffee, which was still too bloody hot.
    Someone knocked on the door. Eden looked up as it opened.
    ‘SAS have just sent over the lists of passengers and crew. We’re running them through our internal databases, and should have a result within a few minutes. I’ll take a closer
look at any matches that might come up, see if they look interesting, and I’ll get back to you as soon as I know.’
    ‘Brilliant!’ Eden said, bringing both hands down on the surface of her desk.
    The door closed.
    ‘Which databases will you be running the names through?’ Alex asked.
    ‘All of them. Every database and every register, then we’ll see if we find anything useful. I mean, we might get a match, but if it’s a speeding offence it’s of no
interest.’
    Alex understood; they were looking for connections with serious crime.
    ‘I mentioned our suggestion on the phone,’ Eden said. ‘Did you have time to talk to your colleagues about it?’
    He had. It had been a brief discussion, because no one could come up with anything better.
    ‘We agree that it would be a good idea to contact the captain and suggest an emergency landing.’
    ‘Good. I’ve spoken to SAS, who have stayed in touch with the captain, and he hasn’t proposed anything else. So if he doesn’t have any ideas of his own, he ought to go for
ours.’
    Alex hoped so. He had been pleased to see that Karim Sassi was the captain. They had met at a birthday party at Erik’s, and Karim had made a very good impression. Steady, as Diana had put
it. Reassuring. And sensible. A lovely wife and delightful children. He didn’t seem to drift off, as Erik was in the habit of doing.
    Drifting off. Is that what you’re doing now, Erik?
    ‘By the way,’ Alex said. ‘We were talking about the relatives of the crew members. Should they be informed?’
    ‘Not yet. We’re keeping the lid on this for as long as possible, at least until we’ve tried bring about an emergency landing. If this gets out it could seriously jeopardise
their safety.’
    Alex nodded; he knew Eden was right. At the same time, he said a quiet prayer that everything would go well. It would look appalling if the worst came to the worst, if the plane was blown up and
none of the relatives of the passengers or crew had been informed of what was going on.
    That just couldn’t happen. Not under any circumstances.
    If the plane was blown up, Alex’s life would be over. He had to take a deep breath, get some air.
    ‘Alex?’
    ‘I’m okay.’
    ‘Nobody would blame you if you decided to . . .’
    ‘I said I was okay.’
    His tone was sharper than he had intended, but he couldn’t bear the thought of being excluded from the case at this stage.
    ‘Nobody would withhold information from you,’ Eden said. ‘Just so you know. If you took a step back you would still have the number of my direct line, and you could call me
whenever you wanted to.’
    He could see that she meant what she said, but he had no intention of taking a step back. He wasn’t like Peder, who had allowed his entire life to be destroyed just because he didn’t
know how to keep his feelings in check.
    ‘Thanks, but I’m staying put.’
    ‘Fine.’
    She picked up the phone and keyed in a number.
    ‘We’re going to make the call now,’ she said. ‘Do you want to be here?’
    She hardly had time to put the phone down before the door flew open. A man of about fifty came in. He was tall and looked fit, and the only thing that made Alex think he was fifty were the lines
on his face. They shook hands.
    ‘Alex Recht.’
    ‘Dennis.’
    No surname, just a first name.
    ‘Dennis is the head of the investigation unit here at