Both for Black and for him.
There was no way the Game Master would let him live after something like this.
But he had no choice.
He had to decapitate the snake.
12
Deathmatch
The knock woke her up and it took her a few moments to realize where she was.
In a hotel room in the Grand, four doors away from Blacks suite. She sat up and looked at the time on the clock-radio: 02.12.
Her head felt sluggish, as if it were full of some sort of goo, and she rubbed the palms of her hands over her eyes in an effort to get her brain into gear.
The knock was repeated. She got out of bed and quickly pulled on her trousers and blouse before opening the door slightly.
It was Thomas.
Sorry for waking you, Rebecca, he muttered, taking a step forward so that she had no choice but to let him in.
He waved the Blackberry he was holding in one hand.
Weve received a threat against Mr Black, a particularly credible one …
Oh … ?
She wasnt really sure what she was expected to say.
An old friend in the Secret Service just called. Theyve had information suggesting that a terrorist organization is planning an attack against us during our visit to Stockholm.
Okay … She fiddled with the bottom buttons of her blouse while she tried to get her still groggy thoughts in order.
What organization?
They dont actually have a name, which probably sounds a bit odd. Terrorists usually like boasting, after all. But weve been keeping an eye on them for long enough to realize that they shouldnt be underestimated, in spite of their low profile.
So whats the reason for their interest?
He shrugged.
Terrorists dont always need a reason, Miss Normén. Fanatics have their own logic, but its probably something to do with the recent protests. That banner yesterday evening …
She nodded and turned away to open her trousers and tuck in the bottom of her blouse. At the same time she took the chance to sweep the pots of pills off the bedside table and into her trouser pocket.
She turned back and gave Thomas an apologetic smile. But the look on his face didnt let on if he had seen the pills.
Okay, so what do we know, exactly? she went on.
Not much, but my friend was concerned enough to call me in the middle of the night. He couldnt say much, which probably means the information comes from a confidential source.
Someone on the inside?
He nodded, as his free hand fiddled with the rather too long sleeve of his jacket.
But in spite of that, you dont actually know what the organization is called?
They have slightly different names depending on who you ask. The Circus, the Event, the Performance …
She shook her head.
Never heard of them …
No, I didnt think you would have. Theyre pretty anonymous. Using a lot of different names is a good way to stay under the radar. But we know from past experience that theyre capable of almost anything … He was still tugging his sleeve, as if he were trying to make it even longer.
Okay, well, Ill put a twenty-four-hour guard on Mr Blacks door to start with …
She thought for a few moments.
And I suggest that we take a helicopter tomorrow instead of driving up by car.
Excellent, but can you arrange that at such short notice?
She nodded.
No problem.
She grabbed her holster from the bedside table, fixed it to her belt and pulled her jacket on.
Is there anything else I need to know, Mr Thomas?
Not right now. Ive been promised more information early tomorrow morning, so we can go through what we know then.
Okay.
She followed him out into the corridor and stopped outside Mr Blacks door.
Is he … ?
Hes okay, I spoke to him a little while ago.
Good.
Well, goodnight, then, Rebecca. Youll email me as soon as youve arranged transport … ?
Of course.
She hesitated for a moment. The thought had come out of nowhere, but she felt she had to say it, to get it out of the way.
Just one last question. This organization …
Yes?
I dont suppose its even been known as …
The Game!
It was all he could think about.
In spite of the paracetamols, his head was throbbing so much he thought his eyes would pop out.
Youre not looking too hot, mate … the taxi driver said.
No shit, Sherlock …
Flu, he said abruptly, chewing on his unlit cigarette. A right bastard, in the middle of the summer and everything …
The taxi driver grinned.
I bet! I get vaccinated in the autumn each year. You know, with all the people you meet in this line of work, bugs and viruses and shit floating around inside the car …
He stopped the car, looked round, then did a sharp u-turn across the solid line down the middle of the road.
Mind you, after swine flu and everyone getting sick from the vaccine, it does make you think …
Hmm, HP agreed. The driver reminded him of someone, but he couldnt put his finger on who.
Sometimes you cant help wondering if there ever was any swine flu, or if it was just a way of flogging a load of untested vaccine … the driver went on.
If only you knew, mate!
Under any other circumstances hed have thrown himself into the discussion, but he now hardly dared open his mouth in case he threw up a fountain of vomit.
They had reached Skeppsbron. Only another three or four minutes, with nothing to do but stick it out.
He pressed the button to open the window and get a bit of early morning air.
… loads of other shit the authorities dump on us. Like this business of them keeping records of all internet and mobile traffic, have you heard about that one? Like the Post Office opening all our letters and parcels before delivering them. Another crazy EU idea that the general population only swallow because were too busy gawping at all the inbred royals turning up here … Its just like East Germany, if you ask me …
HP nodded distractedly.
Suddenly he realized who the taxi driver reminded him of.
Manga …
Fuck, he missed Manga. Not a squeak since last winter. He didnt answer his phone, neither his mobile nor his landline. Almost as if he was keeping out of the way on purpose …
Well, here we are, Kungsträdgården. Card or cash?
HP mumbled something inaudible and pulled a crumpled 100-kronor note from his trouser pocket.
What time is it, anyway?
Quarter to six in the morning, mate, a hell of a time to be up and about …
HP opened the car door and stepped out onto the pavement, trying to get his lighter to work.
His hands were shaking so much that he almost burned the end of his nose before he got the fag lit.
The morning chill made him shiver and he took a few deep drags to warm himself up a bit. The illuminated façade of the Grand was a hundred metres in front of him. He thrust his hand into his pocket and closed his fingers around the handle of the revolver.
Almost there.
Almost home …
She stood up and stretched, then went for a short walk along the corridor. Almost four hours on that chair had made her limbs go stiff.
She stifled a brief yawn and looked at the time. It would be time to set off in a few minutes.
Room service had arrived half an hour ago, meaning that Black was now rested, showered and fed.
Unlike her …
She stifled another yawn and held her right hand up in front of her. Only a faint, almost imperceptible tremble.
The effects of the sleeping pill hadnt had time to wear off properly yet. The pills didnt really seem to help her insomnia, and even if the doctor had told her to increase the dose, she usually just ended up in a drowsy doze rather than the deep sleep she needed. The little pots were straining the fabric of her trousers.
One sort of pill to get through the night, another to get through the day …
Her thoughts were still churning. The safe deposit box, the passports, the revolver, Tage Sammer – unless his name was really André Pellas, and Henke, of course.
She had called him four times during the night, and sent him a text. A flagrant breach of Stigssons orders. But as usual she had only ended up with the automated voicemail service.
Obviously it could all have been coincidence, that was probably the most likely explanation. A loosely configured terrorist group occasionally known as the Game didnt necessarily have to have anything to do with the game Henke had got caught up in.
She was used to indistinct threats, that was pretty much part of the daily diet at the Security Police. But she couldnt be certain, not until shed spoken to Henke, heard his voice, checked he was okay. And that nothing of what was going on around PayTag had anything to do with him.
Her earpiece crackled into life.
Were in position outside the main entrance, boss, Kjellgren said. Theres about a dozen people out here, reporters and a few early birds on the lookout for royalty and celebrities. No sign of any demonstrators, over.
Good, I want two men out on the pavement. Well probably be on our way in a few minutes, over.
Copy that!
A door further along the corridor opened and Thomas came out.
He was wearing the same suit, and the same loafers, but the shirt was new. Just like the last one, its collar was waging an uneven battle against Thomass thick neck, and the knot of his tie was already noticeably loose.
Good morning, Rebecca. Are we ready?
All ready, well be heading back to Bromma Airport and flying up. The helicopter can carry four passengers, so therell be plenty of room.
And everythings prepared up there?