“They all went to Special Ops. I don’t think we even bothered to read them ourselves. We were in our twenties back then. We weren’t even a bit interested in politics. Today, we realize what they needed the documents for. To prove Olof Palme was a enemy of the state.”
“Shut your pie hole, Jöran,” Modin said, getting to his feet. “I’m going to bed.”
CHAPTER 87
LIDINGÖ ISLAND, STOCKHOLM, SUNDAY EVENING, FEBRUARY 7
When the car came down to the steamer pier at the Sticklinge peninsula on the northwestern end of the island of Lidingö, they turned to the left and drove down a track, continued for some fifty yards, and then came to a halt.
Bergman pulled the emergency brake. Although it was only a few miles to the very heart of Stockholm, it was very quiet out there. They were near the yacht club. Boats—taken out of the water for the winter and wrapped in white plastic—lay in long rows. Black shadows of the hills above stretched out over the frozen bay. There were no apartment buildings near the boat club.
Bergman opened the car door cautiously and listened. The buzz of the city could be heard in the distance. A wind was blowing downhill and flapping the tarpaulin covering some of the boats. It was three minutes to midnight, the night between Sunday and Monday, the perfect time for a paramilitary coup against Sweden’s most secret unit. He stuck his left leg out into the snow.
Loklinth’s house was about three quarters of a mile to the north, on the other end of the Stora Värtan inlet. They would ski over the ice to get there.
Modin and Jöran took the skis and a sledge down from the car roof. They were dressed in white overalls, like the ones they used when they were Coastal Rangers in the eighties. Bergman had borrowed a set from Jöran. His basement on Muskö Island had been like a small military warehouse. A handy thing to have, Jöran had told him when Bergman asked.
Bergman put his hand into his pocket and grabbed hold of his 9 mm Glock 17 semiautomatic pistol. They all had two extra magazines.
He noticed Modin strap a black knife to his thigh and take out a pair of night vision binoculars from the roof box on the car.
They put on their skis and, after scanning the area thoroughly, they slid down to the water’s edge near the clubhouse and got out on the ice with a few yards between them.
Skiing conditions were good. Jöran was last in line and pulled the sledge. Modin carried a backpack. Bergman, the least skilled skier of them all, was at the front and only carried his personal belongings. Although he made a little more effort than usual, he felt the others were urging him on. He looked straight across the ice over to Djursholm. The weather conditions were perfect: overcast, a faint breeze from the northwest, and so dark that once they were some fifty yards from the shore, they were invisible.
The three men disappeared into the night. All that could be detected was the faint swishing sound of skis on snow crust.
CHAPTER 88
DJURSHOLM, SUNDAY EVENING, FEBRUARY 7
Come in, my dear. Into the warmth of my humble house.”
Loklinth opened the door ceremoniously. Kim could not shake her anxiety. He clearly wasn’t sober. She looked into his glassy brown eyes and greeted him with a hug.
It was warm inside, far above normal room temperature. An open fire was crackling away in the hall, visible between the two large leather loungers standing with their backs to the door. Chris Loklinth had been sitting in one of them. His half-empty whisky glass was still on the side table. It was eleven at night and Kim was tired.
Modin had given her a call two days earlier.
She had been surprised at her own reaction. Busy unpacking things in the apartment, she had greasy hair, and could smell stale sweat in her armpits, and so she hoped he wasn’t standing outside the building waiting to come up. That was her first thought. The second was: Come up, Modin! Hurry!
She hadn’t realized how much she missed him.
“Where are you?”
“On Muskö Island. I’m calling from the neighbor of a friend where I’m hiding. The idea is to avoid being traced.”
“I’ve missed you.”
“I miss you too.” Modin’s voice sounded congested.
She didn’t remember what she replied. The conversation was over before it had even started. The words came out short and fast and when it was over she realized that quite a different translation was made in her head as she paced around her two and a half thousand square feet apartment, continuing the conversation with Modin the way it should have developed if only her weakness had not confused her.
They had decided it would go down at around one o’clock that morning. She had received instructions from Modin and proceeded to follow them immediately. She called Loklinth and demanded a meeting, an important meeting to discuss business. He had complied, of course, despite the late hour and that’s why she was now here. The fact that Loklinth had claimed that he could only see her at his house had played to her hand, but worried her nonetheless. He clearly had things other than business in mind.
“Let’s go into the living room,” Loklinth said, showing her the way. “Please have a seat.”
“I have stopped the cable project,” Kim said. She sat down on the white upholstered couch.
“I’ve heard. If you are afraid, protection can be arranged.” Loklinth poured whisky into a glass without asking her what she wanted. “You need a drink. It’s cold outside.”
Kim knew Loklinth’s facial expression; just like all men, he was undressing her with his eyes. It was far more unpleasant than she expected. Perhaps because she was nervous, or perhaps because she was done with that life now that her husband was gone and she was free. Loklinth seemed to read her thoughts. She hated people in intelligence; they all had a sixth sense. She wiped the palms of her hands against her thighs and looked away.
“Nice place you have, Chris. I could imagine myself living here.”
She said it to distract his attention, and she noticed a slight twinkle in his eyes. His cheeks glowed and he took a large gulp from his drink. The immediate danger was over. He suspected nothing.
“Kim, this cable is important to the free world of the west. Everyone wants free Internet, don’t they?” He smiled slyly.
You mean a bugged Internet, Kim thought. She looked around. She was supposed to open an outside door or window so that Modin and his men could enter silently. She also had to look for bodyguards in the house. There was no one in sight, but she had seen two cars parked outside the house. One of them was a black Saab.
“Isn’t it pretty lonely out here, Chris?” Kim got up and went over to the large window.
“No, well, sometimes. It’s quite dark here in the winter but the outside lighting takes care of that. And I live just down the road from Anders Glock. The place is his; I just rent.”
Kim walked around, taking in the surroundings. The house was huge, clean, and rather orderly, considering that it was a bachelor pad. He had some military trophies on display and pictures of himself in uniform, but other than that, it was sparsely decorated. He didn’t even have curtains, which gave the house an unfinished and somewhat cold feel.
“What a nice sound system. Can’t have been cheap.”
Loklinth went over to the entertainment console and inserted a Mozart CD.
“This is an HD CD,” he said “Twenty bytes of digital transfer instead of the sixteen you get with the usual player—makes a huge difference. Unfortunately, most people don’t know about it. It’s only we audiophiles who know the secret. The dynamics of the sound are quite different with HD. As it is with HD TV.”
“All I need is my mp3,” Kim said and went back to the couch.
“That’s for your average citizen,” Loklinth said with a grimace.
She moved Loklinth’s glass closer to hers. He seemed to hesitate for a moment, then he inhaled through his nose, and sat down next to her. The grin she had noticed upon her arrival was back.
Kim was glad that Loklinth had put on the music. Tha
t worked perfectly with their plan. Modin had told her that Loklinth’s most valued possession was and always had been his stereo. Now the Magic Flute was pouring out of the speakers. She snuggled up to him.
“Tell me about your life, Chris. Why do you live alone?”
CHAPTER 89
They stopped halfway across Stora Värtan, between the island of Lidingö and the Djursholm district. Ice covered the bay. They located Anders Glock’s mansion and two freestanding wings. Bergman motioned with his hand. They moved toward the big house.
They knew Glock wasn’t at home. He was in Switzerland on business.
Perfect for us, Modin thought as he approached the shore. The pier belonged to the northern annex, which was Loklinth’s home. They climbed onto the pier and stopped some thirty yards away.
Modin’s legs were tired, and he was sweating and breathing heavily. It had been a long while since he had last been skiing. He was out of shape.
In the shadows out on the ice, Modin took off his skis. Then they snuck up toward the annex stealthily, stopping intermittently to make sure nobody had noticed them. They found a hiding place behind the boathouse on the beach side.
Modin could see Loklinth’s shiny bald scalp through his binoculars. He seemed to be excited; his wild gestures seemed to suggest as much. Modin made a sign and they moved closer to the house. Jöran Järv followed close behind, then Bergman. There was little cover in the garden—a few pine trees and a honeysuckle bush that was completely snowed over—and the outside lighting added to the risk factor. They moved up and down the beach side to scope it out. The cold snow creaked with every footstep.
Modin could feel his pulse rising. He realized that he was not fully prepared for the task at hand—kidnap his old mentor and boss. How would he react? Would he put up resistance? The possibility that Loklinth could be angry with him made him feel sick.
CHAPTER 90
Tell me more,” Kim smiled and drew her hand through her hair.
“I have been married to the same woman for thirty-five years. I’m proud of that. My two kids, a boy and a girl, are grown up and left home long time ago. We had nothing in common any more. It was time to move on. We separated last fall. It’s a little lonely, but I manage. My job is my main interest in life—and music and books. I cope.”
“What do you like to read?”
“Mostly philosophy and religion. And a whole lot of crime fiction as well.”
“You’re Christian, aren’t you?” She saw an icon on the wall above the entertainment system.
“I converted to Catholicism many years ago. That’s the only faith that works. Everything else is either too extreme or too easy. The Swedish Church as an institution was demolished by Olof Palme. Those of us who share conservative values and look to higher values than equality and solidarity with the Third World were none too pleased with that. I believe in a spiritual world that Social Democracy seems to have forgotten. All those new age movements—yoga, mindfulness, healing—are just cheap replacements for true spirituality. We lack spirituality in Sweden, but in Italy, where Catholicism reigns, faith supports you.”
“Sounds about right,” Kim said, and she meant it.
She realized that she was no longer listening. Instead she wondered how close Modin and his men were.
“When you realize that your partner no longer contributes anything to your life, and is only there as a companion,” Loklinth said and then went silent as if he was thinking how to continue, “then you might as well get yourself a dog.” He laughed and looked into Kim’s eyes. “Do you understand?”
“I think so. I was my husband’s dog. But he’s dead. Now I want my own dog.”
“I’d make a good dog; I could fetch slippers.”
“I don’t believe you, Chris. You’re a master. No doubt about that.”
“I could try my hand at being a dog.”
“I believe you, for one night, with a collar and leash around your neck. After that you’d get tired of it.” Kim had some of her whiskey. She still had to rig a door or a window. “Could I use your bathroom, Chris?”
“The guest bathroom is over there.” Loklinth pointed out toward the hallway. “First door on the left.”
She got up and disappeared into the hall. It had to be the bathroom window. Loklinth would never let her out of his sight. He was a pro. But she did like the idea of the collar and leash; a slip knot leash would be perfect.
CHAPTER 91
They were flat on their bellies, some thirty yards from the house, still surveying the surroundings. It was desolate and silent out here. There was almost no wind.
Modin signaled to Bergman to go and get the sledge. He wanted it close to the house. He nodded to Jöran who nodded back. They began to crawl toward the house. With every move on their knees and elbows, they stopped, looked, and listened carefully. Kim had pasted a small florescent label on the inside of the bathroom window to guide them. It glimmered in the flashlight as Modin swept the beam across the outer wall of the house. Loklinth would get the shock of his life within a few minutes. Very slowly, they approached the bathroom window next to the main entrance.
With a whisper, Modin communicated his plan to Jöran. Modin would enter first, then Jöran. Bergman’s task was to stand guard outside.
Modin crawled the last few yards up to the window. He stopped right underneath and pressed his back to the front of the house. He could hear the faint sound of classical music through the wall.
The window was closed but not locked. The bolts on the inside had been unhooked. He stuck his knife in the crack between window and window frame and easily opened the window. It was square and smaller than the others in the building. He cautiously lifted his backpack through the window and put it down on the floor. Then, with some difficulty, he wriggled in, head first. He supported himself on the toilet seat, which helped break his fall once inside. There was a faint thump as his boots hit the window frame. He turned around onto his back on the tile floor. He was inside!
Modin crouched there for a moment in complete silence.
Fuck, I’m out of shape, he thought. Then he carefully opened his backpack. His hands started to shake as he took out the chloroform. He didn’t feel well. His breathing was heavier than normal. There was a ringing in his ears.
Only a few yards away, in the living room, sat his antagonist of the past few years. The eight-fingered devil, Chris Loklinth.
CHAPTER 92
Would you like another, Kim? I think I’ll have one. It’s not often I have such nice company,” Loklinth said. “I really appreciate that you’ve come here to talk. Your safety is one of the most important things at our firm, Kim. Especially after what happened to your husband. But the cable project must proceed. We have to arrange that in some way. You understand that?”“
“I’m worried about Anton Modin. He’s not been the same since his trip to Estonia. Now he’s dropped off the grid. I don’t know what’s happened to him. Do you know, Chris?”
“Sure you don’t want another one?”
“No, thanks, it’s getting late.”
“Anton Modin got what he deserved, to be blunt about it. He’s an alcoholic. He’s finished, Kim. He’s lost touch with reality. I don’t know how things could have gone so wrong with him. I really don’t know. He was like a son to me. I signed him to Special Ops. Who knows where he’d have ended up in otherwise. He was a patriot then.”
“And now?”
“He’s my worst enemy. Sweden’s worst enemy.”
“Sounds like you hate him.”
“I don’t hate him. He’s just redundant. I’ve withdrawn my support. He’s no longer one of us. There was a time when I protected him. Longer than he knows and would ever believe. But now that’s over. He’s going to die sooner or later. If it isn’t the alcohol, it’ll be in an accident. Something will break him down bit by bit. You shouldn’t listen to him. Shouldn’t associate with him.”
Chris put his big hand around her shoulder. She could s
mell his stale breath.
“Kim, Modin no longer exists. You do understand that, don’t you? Your empire, the cable across the Baltic Sea, and our good relations with the new Baltic countries depend on it. Sweden is counting on you. Are you sure that you don’t want another one?”
A thump could be heard above the music. Loklinth jumped.
CHAPTER 93
A couple of hundred yards from Loklinth’s house the alarm had gone off. The two bodyguards—Evald, as tall as Jaak was muscular—were hanging out waiting in the area dedicated for bodyguards in Mr. Glock’s house. Both belonged to an Estonian Special Forces team similar to Crack of Dawn. Getting a temporary security guard job in Sweden was a bonus. Well paid, expenses, and plenty of opportunity for shopping and pleasure in Stockholm. Good even for the bodyguards’ wives and children, because they always brought gifts back to Estonia.
Anders Glock picked bodyguards from the Baltic countries, partly because of the financial advantage, as he avoided paying tax and employer charge, and partly because Baltic people had a reputation of being skillful and loyal. They possessed qualities lacking in the Swedish youth of today, as he said. They weren’t as spoiled, looked up to their employers, and showed respect. That was the quality he valued most when he hired them.
“Alarm! There’s an alarm!”
“It’s the northern annex, at Chris’ place.”
The two men reached for their handguns and jackets and ran out of the house. Evald had been the first to hear the window alarm, and ran a few steps ahead. Evald slipped on the ice. It was slippery and he was wearing nothing but ordinary shoes. He got up quickly and resumed running but with shorter steps. He drew his handgun. Jaak was following closely behind. He had not yet drawn his weapon. They rounded the corner and saw a couple of legs disappearing through a window into Loklinth’s house.
Under Water (Anton Modin Book 3) Page 23