Bubble(41)

The floor of the tunnel beneath him was rough, and his hands and knees were protesting increasingly loudly. To the left of him ran a number of thick pipes, and one of them was seriously bloody hot.

Hed already burned his left arm a dozen times, and sweat was starting to drip down his back and face. He could have done with a break several minutes ago, but he had no great inclination to appear pathetic to Nora. If she could do it, then so could he!

He was keeping as close to her as he could, listening out for her movements and breathing in the tunnel ahead of him.

He felt movement over the back of one hand and for a moment he thought hed got too close to her. Then he realized that it didnt feel like a leather boot, but something damp and furry.

A tickling motion against the inside of his calf make him jerk and bang his arm against the hot pipe again.

Bollocks! he yelled.

Are you okay?

A faint bluish light appeared ahead of him, then swung round towards him. She was using her mobile phone as a torch.

A fucking rat, he muttered. I hate rats  …

We can stop for a bit if you like?

No, no, its fine. Lets carry on.

But Nora seemed to have realized how tired he was. She turned round and sat across the passageway, pulling her legs up and pressing her boots against the hot pipe. Out of her trouser pocket she pulled a tub of chewing tobacco and, without showing the slightest sign of offering any to him, tucked one of the tiny pouches under her lip.

We probably havent got far left  …  She put the tub back in her pocket.

Where to? The station at Slussen, or what?

He stretched his stiff limbs and tried to sit in the same position as her.

I thought that to start with, but the tunnels curving in the wrong direction. Were heading south. I think we must be getting close to Medborgarplatsen  …

Okay  …  And when we get there, where do we go after that? Wheres this flat Manga mentioned?

Youll see  …

He tried to look hard at her, but the mobile was facing towards him and her face was in shadow. She was actually pretty cool. Clearly the smart one of the group.
 
 

 

Kent Hasselqvist was a pathetic little approval-junkie, and Muscleman Jeff lived up to all his prejudices about tattooed gym-freaks with cropped hair. But Nora was different.

So, what was your role in the Game? he said in a tone of voice that was supposed to sound relaxed and not uncomfortably interested.

I mean, were you a Player or an Ant? he added rather less confidently when she didnt answer. Or some sort of Functionary like Mangelito?

Still no answer.

Okay, Greta Garbo. Sorry I asked  …  he muttered and resumed the crawling position.

Shall we? He nodded at the tunnel ahead of them.

She sat still for a moment longer.

Then she shifted round and switched off her mobile.

A Player, just like you, she said, and began to crawl away.

Rebecca carried on scrolling down the page. Most of the information seemed to come from the Royal Library, so a visit there felt like a natural next step.

In 1968, four years after her dad was fired from the military and, according to Sammer / Pellas, started work as a consultant, Sweden signed the non-proliferation treaty and gradually began to dismantle its nuclear weapons programme, which officially ended in 1972. But the following section on Wikipedia appeared to contradict that:

However, activities related to nuclear weapons continued at the National Defence Research Establishment even after the dismantling work had been concluded in 1972, albeit on a considerably smaller scale. (Resources in 1972 were approximately one third of the 1964-65 level.) Research into ways of protecting against the effects of nuclear weapons, unconnected of any research into active construction or an independent capability, continued.

All of this fitted perfectly with what Uncle Tage had said. A large, top-secret research project requiring clandestine contact with other countries. A project which was later closed down but continued on a smaller scale, even more secretly than before. Rumbling on below the surface with the tacit approval of those in power.

In 1985, however, a newspaper article attracted a lot of attention and the Palme government suddenly got cold feet. An official investigation was set up, and took two years to conclude that there were no conclusions to conclude seeing as all research into nuclear weapons really had stopped in 1972, just as the government had been claiming all along.

Two years allowed plenty of time to shut things down, cut off all contacts and erase all traces for good. A solution that suited all parties. Or at least almost all  …

If she was right, if the L-programme and its even more secret successor had been Sammers and, by extension, her dads project, then this would mean that they were both conclusively removed from it in 1985 or 86.

The safe deposit box contract had been signed in 1986, and that was also the period when Dad began to change. He became bitter, angry  –  and considerably more violent. Was that when he got hold of the revolver, or had he had it much longer, possibly from Uncle Tage as a form of security?

The nuclear weapons programme was originally under the auspices of the air force, and, in contrast with the army, their personnel were issued with this sort of revolver, .38 calibre.

That would explain why Uncle Tage was so keen to get hold of the gun, apart from wanting to keep it away from Henke.

He wanted to get shot of the revolver for good.

Before it could be traced back to events in the past  …

Now what had he meant by that?

Then there were his cryptic words towards the end of the conversation that she hadnt really taken in before she was out of the car. Something about not letting history repeat itself.

She closed her eyes, rested her head in her hands and massaged her temples.

God, what a story!

Did you get far up the rankings? he gasped towards her legs. I was first runner up, Player number 128. I was actually in the lead for a while, but I suppose you know all that  …

No answer.

She really was playing hard to get  …

Without any warning Nora suddenly stopped and he almost hit his head on her backside. Not that that would have been a wholly unpleasant experience.

He was about to open his mouth to say something clever when she cut him off.

Shhhh!

Now he suddenly noticed the faint light ahead of them.

It was coming through the roof of the tunnel, through some sort of grille or something. There was a vague sound of voices in the distance.

What time is it? he hissed.

Half past five.

For a moment he thought she meant in the evening. That they had spent a whole day crawling through the darkness. But that obviously wasnt the case. Theyd picked him up from Långholmen in the middle of the night, then theyd walked through the tunnel just in time to see the last trains rumble home before the system shut down.

Add a few hours for talking and crawling, and it would soon be time for breakfast.

Nora carried on moving forward carefully, stopping just below the grating. She got up into a crouch and carefully stretched out, reaching towards the light. Her head disappeared from view and for a moment, even though he could see the rest of her body, he felt strangely abandoned.

Then she was back.

Come on!

She waved him forward.

Quick! she added when he failed to move fast enough.

He crept forward and got up beside her, so close he could feel her breath on his cheek.

Medborgarplatsen underground station. She pointed upwards. The platforms empty, but the station must be opening any time now because I can hear voices. We have to get up before they let in the morning rush  …

Otherwise it would look a bit odd, wouldnt it? she added, when he didnt seem to get what she meant. Two shabby-looking people crawling out of a hole in the ground  … ?

Sure, of course, he mumbled.

God, he was being slow!

She stood up, flicked some sort of catch, and then raised the grating.

She did a little jump and climbed out.

Here!

She reached one hand down towards him.

For a moment he considered ignoring it, because obviously he could get himself out of a fucking hole without any help. But his body was completely knackered and he had no desire to get stuck halfway up, like some geek doing circuit training. So he took her hand, pushed off from the floor and jumped towards the hole. She pretty much pulled him out onto the platform.

Come on, theyve started letting people in, I heard someone rattling keys  …

She hadnt let go of his hand, and pulled him up on his feet, then dragged him after her towards the middle of the platform.

From the staircase leading down from the entrance at the far end they could hear a metallic sound that seemed to be getting closer. But there was still no sign of any early morning passengers.

Two pairs of legs in blue trousers appeared in their field of vision.

Then weapons belts with jangling handcuffs, followed by blue uniform jackets and two capped heads.

Cops  –  one male, one female.

Heading straight for them!

Shit!

For a moment he was seized by an instinct to run. But Nora was still holding his hand, forcing him to calm down.

Pull your hood up, she whispered, then slowly began to slip towards the nearest flight of steps up from the platform. There seemed to be voices coming from up there.

He did as she said and slowly pulled his hood over his head.

Well already be late, get a move on! someone above them growled.

Presumably the station staff, about to open up.

HP glanced cautiously over his shoulder. The cops were getting closer, gaining on them with every step.