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were narrow and his fist gripped the gun firmly.
     
There was a pause, and then a second bump. The door shook slightly, but it held fast. He eyed the locking mechanism – a big red handle at the twelve o'clock position with an arrow pointing downwards. To open the door, all he needed to do was pull it down.
     
He checked the gun. It was loaded and ready. He would have to be fast. Fast and accurate. When he let go of the controls, the plane would dive. But that would be OK, just as long as he was expecting it. He took a deep breath and let go of the controls. Immediately the plane tilted downwards and he had to hurl himself towards the door. With one hand he held the gun out straight; with the other he brought down the locking handle and pulled the door open.
     
The hijacker only had a split second to take everything in. Barely a metre away from him there was a large, thick-set man, and he was coming towards him at some speed.
     
Their eyes locked. The hijacker aimed the gun straight at his head.
     
He fired.
     
The force of the bullet knocked the man backwards.
     
There was no way the hijacker's target would have survived the headshot, but the man fired once more for good measure. This time the bullet hit the bodyguard in the chest.
     
The hijacker slammed the door shut and forced the locking lever up again. Sweat was trickling down the side of his face now, but he remained calm as he carefully edged himself towards his seat again, grabbed the controls and steadied the plane.
     
Three people dead. But that didn't matter. It was only a matter of time before it happened to all of them.
     

Chapter Four
It sounded like everyone started screaming at the same time. The plane had nosedived and it was that which was scaring everyone, rather than the silent bullets. As he gripped fearfully onto his seat, Ben wondered how many people had even noticed that the bodyguard had been shot.
     
One person had, though. Angelo.
     
' Brad! ' The Italian boy's yell filled Ben's ears. As the plane suddenly pulled out of its dive and started rising again, Angelo rushed into the aisle and up to the body lying on the floor. Ben followed immediately.
     
'Stay away, you two!' one of the cabin crew shouted, but he was quickly rebuked by Angelo.
     
' Stai zitto! ' the Italian said between gritted teeth. 'Shut up! Brad was here because of me, all right?' But when he came up close to the corpse, Ben noticed that his friend took a step back.
     
The bodyguard was a mess. His face was bloodied and unrecognizable, and half of his head had been shot away. It was a gruesome sight.
     
As he stared at the bodyguard's corpse, the noise of frightened people all around him seemed to disappear into nothing. Ben had seen enough dead bodies in his time, but it wasn't something he'd got used to. The sight of Brad, dead and cold, sent a shiver down his spine and made him feel sick.
     
It was only the sound of the intercom crackling into life again that snapped him out of it. Everyone else in the cabin fell silent too as the hijacker's voice filled the air.
     
'Ladies and gentlemen.' His foreign voice sounded almost polite. 'I advise you all to take your seats and remain calm.'
     
Ben felt as if everyone in the cabin was holding their breath. All he could hear was the sound of the plane's engines.
     
'If anybody else tries to do anything foolish,' the hijacker continued, 'they can expect to die, like the man I have just shot.'
     
There were some shocked whispers from the back of the plane – clearly not everybody had been aware that Brad had been shot.
     
'It seems fair to me,' the hijacker continued, 'that you understand what is going to happen to you before it happens. And why.'
     
A pause. A deathly silence.
     
'I come from a small island many thousands of miles from here. I do not believe any of you will have heard of it. You are all too caught up in the importance of your own affairs to worry about people like us. Not long ago, men from the