The Passengers(33)
Before she was allowed to finish her sentence, Bilquis’s car shook violently before a flash of light and flames could be seen racing from the rear and towards her. Within seconds, Bilquis became engulfed in an inferno. Libby was paralysed, unable to move her head or tear her eyes away from what was unfolding as Bilquis’s clothes caught fire. She thrashed around, making agonising noises Libby had never heard another human make. Suddenly a figure appeared in front of Libby so that she could no longer see the screen. Without saying anything, Matthew placed his hands on her shoulders.
‘Look at me,’ he said. ‘Look at me.’
Libby’s eyes met his. ‘Keep looking at me until this is over and I tell you to stop.’ More screaming followed and the sounds of flames and skin crackling before another explosion and a loss of picture. By the time Matthew let go of Libby, all that remained on the wall was a blank screen.
‘I can’t be here, I need to leave,’ she exclaimed, rising from her seat and hurrying on shaky legs towards the door. ‘I need air, I have to go home.’ She banged both hands on the door until it opened. Commander Riley and his colleague blocked the door, preventing her escape.
‘Please, let me out,’ Libby begged. ‘I can’t stay here any longer and watch more people die.’
‘I am sorry, ma’am, but I’m not allowed to let anyone leave the room until the process is complete,’ the Commander replied. ‘I have my orders.’
‘I don’t care!’ Libby shouted, tears streaming down her face. Her breathing was rapid and, once again, she felt as if her skin was close to boiling point. Another panic attack, this time more full-blown than the last, felt imminent. She needed cool, fresh air and to feel safe again.
She reached to grab the officer’s broad arm and to pull it to one side. It wouldn’t budge, and, in her frustration, she lashed out, clipping him around the head and knocking his earpiece to the floor. In one swift manoeuvre, he grabbed both ends of his gun and used it to push her sharply backwards where she lost her balance and fell, backside first. She yelped in pain as her coccyx connected with the flagstone floor.
‘Social media is not going to like that,’ muttered Cadman.
‘Do not treat her like that,’ snapped Matthew and squared up to the Commander.
‘Sit down please, sir,’ he ordered. ‘This building is on complete lockdown. Every street within a one-mile radius has been evacuated and this building is also being searched for explosive devices. Until either the Hacker is traced or we know how to disable those cars, you will all remain in here.’
He pointed to a news channel that had reappeared on the wall. The jurors recognised the town hall where armed soldiers were redirecting members of the public from behind blue tape. Police cars, ambulances, fire engines and army bomb disposal units could all be seen. Above the building a swarm of drones competed for airspace.
‘We should have just held firm, we shouldn’t have done what he told us to,’ said Libby. Matthew stretched out his arm to help her off the floor. She accepted it and the doors closed behind her.
Once again, the Hacker’s voice came from nowhere. ‘If that had been your course of action, I would have detonated all vehicles,’ he said.
‘You’re sick,’ Libby replied. ‘You don’t blow people up to get attention. That’s not how the world works.’
‘Have you read the news in the last century? Did Oppenheimer, the IRA, Al-Qaeda, ETA, Hamas and ISIS pass you by?
‘You know what I mean. Ordinary members of society don’t behave in this way. They don’t kill for the sake of it.’
‘And neither do I. I kill for a purpose.’
‘Which is?’
The Hacker didn’t reply.
‘You knew that Bilquis was going to be chosen first – her or Shabana, didn’t you?’
‘Why might you assume that?’
‘Because you didn’t include anything positive about them. Instead, you emphasised that Shabana didn’t work, she spoke no English, had six children and her husband’s been accused of people trafficking. And Bilquis was a failed asylum seeker wanting to bring another family member over here. You cherry-picked nuggets of information to encourage us and social media to vote in a particular way.’
‘Which is exactly how this jury operates. You make decisions based on the bare minimum of facts. Are you saying it might have made a difference if I’d mentioned her daughter in Somalia has been dead for two years and it’s her ashes Bilquis wanted to bring to Britain? Or that before Bilquis escaped the civil war in her country, she was made to watch her five-year-old child being raped by rebel fighters? Should I have told you that she nursed her daughter as she bled to death in her arms? Perhaps I should have added that despite all this, Bilquis still found the strength to help and pay for fifteen orphaned children to flee Somalia on the same boat as her? If you had been given these facts, would you have allowed her to burn to death?’
Libby’s expression hardened. ‘You told the people what they wanted to hear to make their decision easier.’
‘As with your inquests, the full disclosure can be an inconvenience when a decision needs to be made. Am I wrong, Jack?’
Chapter 25
‘What does he mean?’ Libby directed to Jack.