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BANGED UP ABROAD: HELLHOLE

That’s when I noticed two blokes staring at us, and muttering to each other. They were well dressed, in civilian clothes. Maybe they were undercover coppers? My heart froze and a surge of adrenalin made my eyes almost pop out of my head.

I shook Paul awake, ‘Look, over there!’ I rasped.
‘Those two blokes keep staring at us! I’m telling you, this is the end of the road!’

Paul looked at them. ‘You’re just getting paranoid, kid,’ was his calm response. ‘Will you please just chill the fuck out?’

But I knew they were staring right at us. Once again, I suggested dumping the vests in the toilets. Again, Paul told me that would be a death sentence. It was an impossible situation.

Finally, our flight was announced. We walked down the tunnel to the plane and it seemed like it went on forever. Things were happening in slow motion. I could hear my heart beating in my ears. Sweat was rolling down my back, sitting clammy and horrible against the infernal vests we were stuck in.

As we rounded a corner in the tunnel, I suddenly clocked the two men who’d been staring at us in the lounge. They were standing in the corridor, just outside the jet’s cabin door, which was tantalisingly wide open. They were searching everybody, frisking them under their jackets.