CHAPTER 1
“Now you can forget about politics, government policies and business, just have a
good holiday and get a good suntan, Mrs Franklin. The security guys are happy not to
accompany you if you stick to your itinerary.”
“Good. Take care of things whilst we’re away. The place could probably do with a
bit of a tidy – I’ve been rather too busy of late I’m afraid,” Carol waved goodbye
breezily to Nancy, their secretary. She watched through the taxi window as the efficient
looking girl wearing a pin-stripe suit stood at the door of their plush house, waving back
with an almost relieved smile until they drew out of the long drive and into the London
traffic. Well, if Nancy thought she was going to have too easy a time of it whilst they
were away, she had another think coming, Carol decided. She’d make sure she earned her
keep by texting her a few chores to keep her busy. But then she thought of her own
happiness.
“We’re on our way at last darling,” she gave Fredrick’s arm a squeeze and smiled
happily at Lucy and Michael, their two teenage children.
Although it was great living the good life with the trappings of power, it would be
equally good to escape life as the wife of a junior Minister in the newly elected British
Government. She and her husband had been campaigning seemingly forever, but now the
election had been won, and they had a week to relax. And soon, if Fredrick became a full
cabinet Minister, his workload would become even heavier. Still, she thought, Nancy was
there to help them cope. But Carol often helped him prepare his speeches, and now with
his new responsibilities, she anticipated having less time on her part-time job as a
newspaper columnist.
But she put such dreary thoughts aside and became engrossed in her magazine as the
traffic gradually thinned out on their journey towards the small airport in Kent to board
their charter flight to Portugal. As Fredrick was still only a fairly junior politician,
and as yet had to make any big policies and thus gain potential enemies, it hadn’t been
too hard to persuade the security services that they didn’t need any police minders
tagging along. They were free to relax and enjoy themselves.
This was the height of decadent luxury, thought Carol as she relaxed into the large
soft seat of the compact Lear jet. Fredrick had arranged it through one of his contacts,
an influential Western-leaning Korean businessman with whom he had recent dealings as they
established a policy to deal with North Korea. There had been only a minor hitch when the
original flight crew went sick, but the replacements seemed very efficient. Their family
were the only passengers on board for the attentive Oriental cabin crew to serve.
Bang!
Carol jumped in her seat as the door from the crew area practically burst open.
“No-one move, all remain in seats. No talking,” shouted the masked man who
emerged, pushing one of the cabin crew ahead of him, hands raised.
“What the hell…?”
“No talk, no move or people get hurt, we have bombs,” the man pushed the stewardess
ahead of him. “This plane has enough fuel to reach North Korea and that where we go.”
“North Kor’… but why? Do you know who I am? I demand…”
“Shut up, I no tell you again,” the man interrupted Fredrick. His masked face was
inches away as he held the stewardess in a painful arm-lock, contorting her small body.
“We no care who you are, we just happy to blow up plane if our orders no obeyed – but OK
for now – pilot has agreed to fly to Korea. My friend sitting beside him, other crew tied
up. He will destroy plane if pilot, crew or passengers no do exactly as told; we happy to
die. When we land in Korea – we leave you unhurt. Now, one at a time pass hand luggage,”
he pushed the stewardess into a seat and secured her wrists behind her with cuffs.
“Ok just do as they say,” Carol urged her husband. “We have to go along with it.
They’ll sort it out that end and we’ll be on our way before long,” Carol sounded more
confident than she felt for the sake of her children. She recalled some of the speeches
she had helped her husband with, quite derogatory to North Korea. She also remembered her
newspaper articles. But hopefully the people at whichever North Korean airport they
landed wouldn’t be aware of that. And anyway, the things they had said were only what had
been passed to them by their Korean contacts.
It was annoying and frustrating to have the contents of her hand luggage and
handbag dumped. All of their mobile phones were confiscated and thus went any chance of
them alerting anyone.
“One at a time in aisle, stand hands on head for searching.”
This was worse, more personal. Fredrick stood there whilst the man fumbled through
his trousers and jacket, emptying everything before he, too, had his wrists cuffed behind
him. Then they turned to her.
“I’ve nothing on me I…”
“Stand in aisle - now,” the masked man’s voice interrupted, now growing louder and
another masked figure joined him, squeezing his hands around the throat of the stewardess,
making her choke. “Hurry now or she get hurt,” this hijacker spoke in a female accent but
it made no difference to her fear.
“Please…” Carol’s protest was ignored as she stood with raised hands like a
prisoner as the brute’s rough hands slid over her body, impudently squeezing her breasts
and patting her bottom, pushing up into the apex of her thighs. She felt dirty, soiled as
she tucked her blouse back in her skirt. “Ouch, careful,” she cried as her wrists were
then roughly pulled behind her, and she felt the sharp bite of plastic ties tightly
securing her wrists behind her.
She stood helplessly as the brute similarly frisked Michael and Lucy before binding
them too.
The window blinds were pulled down and the cabin lights turned on, to bathe them in
harsh light as the plane droned on. Each of them were sat in separate seats and
forbidden to talk.
“Please can you untie my hands? I need a toilet,” Carol asked. It was two hours
later, and such was her fear Carol could no longer ignore her need to empty her bladder,
even though she just wanted to sink unobtrusively into the seat.
“I take,” the masked female grabbed her arm, hustling her up the aisle.
“Please, you’ll need to undo my hands so… ooh,” Carol tried to shrink away as the
girl pushed her into the small loo and without warning tugged up her skirt and pulled down
her tiny black panties, then roughly pushed her down onto the cold seat.
“You stay bound. Just go, I be outside,” she retreated but left the door open,
watching.
It was so degrading for Carol to perform like that.
“Hurry up I no got all day. I take you back to seat otherwise,” the girl was
growing impatient.
It took her several squeezes and much deep breathing before her coiled bladder
eventually released its grip in hissing relief and shame. She tried to keep the noise down
and ignore the girl so obviously smirking under her mask.
“Good girl. I wipe,” the girl spoke as if to a child rather than a grown woman of
34.
“I can do it thanks,” Carol was indignant as she somehow managed with her wrists
still bound behind her but having to shamefully allow the girl to finish adjusting her
clothing.
Carol’s felt so powerless and without control, and indeed she was. Her face was
beetroot red as she was led back to her seat. And she cringed when eventually Fredrick
and the children were also taken to the loo. At least they were allowed to drink from
water bottles, but again their helplessness was emphasised as their captors kept them
bound and held the bottles to their lips.
“Hey, no, please, why…?” Carol squirmed and struggled, as without warning smelly
sacks were tugged over their heads to remove their sight and complete their helplessness.
“Don’t struggle or you get hurt, keep quiet and still.” The orders were curt.
Gradually, Carol managed to control her panic and pounding heart. Her world was
now confined to a dirty brown sack, which sharply tickled her flushed face. She was now
absolutely cut off from the others, trapped in a world of her own under the impenetrable
material, absolutely at the mercy of the hijackers. They could be pointing guns at them
right now, and she would have no way of knowing. They might take Fredrick or the children
away, do anything to them – she wouldn’t even know. But did it make any difference, she
thought gloomily, once again tensing her wrists against the painful grip of the plastic
biting into them. She was as helpless as a baby; these bastards could do just whatever
they liked to any of them.
The journey from the plane had been a nightmare of fear and uncertainty for Carol
and her family. Still bound and hooded, they had heard the hijackers leave and then they
had been led blindly off the plane and into what felt like a van. There was grass under
her feet, not like a major airport. Faintly, above the sound of the plane’s engines, she
heard harsh Oriental voices and guessed they were on a small Korean airstrip.
“Look, let us go we’re English citizens, I’m a UK Government Minister, we’re
innocent victims of the hijackers,” Carol heard Fredrick’s muffled pleas under his hood
and was at least relieved that they all seemed to be OK.
“No talk! None at all or you get hurt.” That was the only response other than the
hands pushing them onto hard wooden seats with more brutality. Then the van door clanged
shut, and they were driven away. With her wrists tightly bound behind her, it took all of
her strength to hold onto the bouncing seat to hold herself approximately upright for the
journey, which Carol estimated lasted a couple of uncomfortable hours. At the end of it,
her hands and bottom were numb.
It was with some relief that their hoods were removed, and although their hands
were still cuffed behind them, they were all still together and safe. Carol was surprised
to see the stewardess was a prisoner beside them. Carol was able to once again give her
family what she hoped was a reassuring smile. And being able to see made their descent
from the van that much easier. The stewardess looked equally terrified as she was taken
along with them.
“What’s going on? Please, look, we were hijacked and brought to Korea against our
will; we need to be released so I can talk to the British Consul. The stewardess here
knows what happened and ...ooof,” Fredrick collapsed, winded, as a fist sunk into his
unprotected belly, interrupting his protests.
“You no worry about how you got here, just know you entered country illegally and
now prisoners of glorious Korean state,” the leader of the guards shouted at them. He was
a short, thickset man with a brown leather gun holster belted over his drab green uniform.
He obviously had his orders and would obey them.
Carol gulped in horror at the grim surroundings in which she found herself. A high
iron fence surrounded a large compound containing a large unwelcoming brick building. Her
high heels scrunching on gravel, she was hustled round the corner to a small side door.
It bore the insignia ‘North Korean Correctional Facility’ on a new brass nameplate. She
saw this before being shoved inside and the outer door locked behind them with a
depressing crash.
In addition to her stomach curdling terror of being helpless and kidnapped was the
additional torment of her captors belonging to the country she and her husband had
publicly vilified. She cringed at the thought of some of the television interviews her
husband had given and her own newspaper articles, lambasting the North Korean regime. If
these people had seen them … She shuddered in dread.
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