They had shouted in surprise as the hijacker emerged through the trap door, but two silent, accurate shots from his suppressed weapon – a Beretta 92FS that he had stashed in his rucksack – had floored them before they could raise the alarm. It had been a nasty surprise when the plane had veered out of control – he had expected there to be an autopilot, but clearly they had been flying manually. Only with difficulty had he managed to take the pilot's seat and steady the plane. Now his eyes were scanning over the bewildering array of instruments before him. It took a couple of minutes for him to work out what was what – he had only ever flown much simpler aircraft than this before – but eventually he felt comfortable with it. He breathed deeply and calmly as his body warmed up. Looking out over the sea and sky that stretched before him, he felt a sense of peace, as though the whole world was his. He was lucky to have got this far, and now there was really nothing that could stop him from doing what he had to do.
