But Lennert was uncharacteristically slow to make his next move. He did not like what he saw; it was by no means clear to him that getting out of the wrecked plane was an improvement on staying in it. His right hand glided back along his belt line, then faltered. When they were walking around in public, he kept a pistol holstered at the small of his back, covered by an untucked shirt. Some instinct had led him to reach for it. But it wasn’t there. "Get my bag," he said to Amelia. He meant the little shoulder bag that would contain his gun and other tools of his trade. "I’m just going to look around, mevrouw ," he explained. "There is no sign of fire but you should be ready to get out in a hurry." He then receded from view as he tried to work out a way to let himself down the curved side of the fuselage.