Free Hostage by Kristina Ohlsson

oppressive.
    ‘Had you been expecting this?’ the Secretary of State asked, much to Fredrika’s surprise.
    ‘No, of course not,’ Eden said, unable to hide her irritation. ‘And I must add that we don’t know if this is another hoax.’
    ‘Hard to say, isn’t it?’ the cabinet secretary said.
    Eden’s eyes narrowed.
    ‘I don’t think this kind of discussion is particularly helpful.’
    ‘True,’ the Secretary of State said. ‘So what’s our next move?’
    ‘My suggestion is that we start talking to our respective American colleagues. Säpo will also try to establish direct contact with the captain of the plane in order to find out what
his intentions are. Personally, I would prefer to see him go for an emergency landing as soon as possible, but bearing in mind the way in which the threat is expressed, and that we still
don’t know if it’s genuine, or if one of the perpetrators is on board, I daren’t make that recommendation at the moment.’
    ‘How much time do we have?’ the Secretary of State asked.
    Fredrika saw Eden and Alex exchange glances. Alex looked deeply distressed.
    Eden explained what the note had said about how much time the two governments had to meet their demands: when the fuel ran out, their time was up.
    ‘Oh, my God,’ the cabinet secretary said, covering his mouth with his hand.
    ‘I must point out once again that we don’t know whether this is a threat we need to take seriously, but I can say that Säpo are extremely concerned,’ Eden said.
    Fredrika hesitated for a moment, then asked a question.
    ‘You didn’t say how long we’ve got. How long will the fuel last?’
    Eden bit her lip.
    ‘We have just over thirteen hours, starting from now. Then the plane will crash, unless it’s allowed to land.’

12
10:45
    T ennyson Cottage. A dark corner of the earth where dubious activities took place.
    Eden Lundell hadn’t wanted to say too much about it during the meeting, but she knew exactly what it was. An American so-called secret detention facility in Afghanistan, close to the
Pakistani border. Notorious to those who had been there, unknown to everyone else. The turnover of inmates was low. Most of those who ended up there were suspected terrorists who had been captured
in Pakistan, and who were then moved on through the system after a period in Tennyson Cottage. In the past, they had been flown to Guantánamo, but now they were taken to other facilities.
The Americans had never confirmed it, but Eden suspected that there had been fatalities among the inmates.
    Eden hadn’t had anything to do with Tennyson Cottage herself, but she had heard the name mentioned when she was working in London.
    They gathered in one of the larger operational meeting rooms: Eden, Sebastian, whom she still hadn’t apologised to, and a number of investigators and analysts. A total of twelve people
were seated around the table. Only one of them wasn’t wearing a black suit, and that was Eden. She was wearing a blue pinstripe suit by Hugo Boss. As she often said to Mikael,
‘Authority doesn’t come for free.’
    And Mikael would usually reply, ‘Particularly when it stinks of smoke.’
    Eden had to bite her lip to stop herself from laughing. One day, she would make her husband happy by stubbing out her very last cigarette. But not today.
    When everyone had settled down, Eden opened the meeting. She didn’t waste any time, but got straight down to what she considered to be the key question as far as Säpo was
concerned.
    ‘Why has Zakaria Khelifi come up in this context? Who would do such a thing with the aim of helping him? Is it his current girlfriend? A friend? A group of activists?’
    ‘Or a terrorist group,’ someone said.
    ‘Or a terrorist group,’ Eden repeated. ‘And secondly, why is Tennyson Cottage mentioned? What’s the connection with Khelifi?’
    ‘Does there have to be a connection?’ Sebastian asked. ‘It could be someone who just wants to kill two birds with