Lets not be too hasty, Mr Black. You are angry at the moment, which is entirely understandable. But dont allow that to make an enemy of a friend. After all, it is impossible to know in whose hands the hard-drive will finally come to rest …
You mean if you manage to get hold of it first?
If that scenario were to occur, I can put your mind at rest already, Mr Black. Naturally, I would personally guarantee that the information would remain secure. And that you and PayTag would be in no danger …
Ah, now I get it … And your guarantees would obviously come at a price?
Nothing in the world is free, Mr Black, and you of all people should know how valuable information can be, dont you think?
Im warning you …
Think very carefully, Mr Black. If I were you, I would be weighing my words with the utmost precision. So, what was it that you were about to say?
… Nothing.
Good. It would seem that we understand each other. I shall be in touch again shortly, when I hope to have rather better news for you. But, for now, goodbye.
How the hell could you possibly have known … ? Hasselqvist was rubbing his wrists. That they were expecting us, I mean?
It was starting to get light, and the birds in the trees around them had already kicked off with Now Thats What I Call Pine Forest …
HP shrugged, pulled on his hoodie and gobbed into the nettles.
Just a feeling, really. There always seemed to be someone one step ahead of us. First down in the tunnel, then that helicopter. Like they always knew where we were, keeping an eye on us. Besides, I got a tipoff …
Who from?
Oh, lets just say from a friend …
He bundled up the technicians urine-stained uniform, stuffed it under one of the seats and pulled out a cigarette. The violent adrenalin rush that had given his hands Parkinsons for the whole of the past hour seemed to have subsided for now. Hasselqvist still didnt seem entirely satisfied.
But where the hell did you get everything from, the taser, the hard-drive with all the ID numbers … ? When did you find the time to sort all that out?
Ive got an old friend who lives out near the Woodland Cemetery … HP cupped his hands round the cigarette. He can get hold of pretty much anything if youre prepared to pay, he muttered from the side of his mouth while he struggled to get his lighter to work. All I had to do was turn up, see if he was in, and ask nicely. You did ask me to come up with a backup plan …
He finally got the cigarette lit, took a deep drag and then blew the smoke up towards the treetops.
Sweet!
What about Jeff? Nora this time.
No need to worry, hell be fine. Unlawful threats, trespass, a bit of resisting arrest combined with violence against a public official. If he hasnt got any previous convictions, hell get away with a fine. Two months prison max … Open prison, at that … he added, when she didnt seem quite as relieved as he had hoped.
Why could he never learn just to keep his mouth shut?!
I still dont see why … Hasselqvist whined. Why didnt they pick us up ages ago? Why let us get anywhere near the Fortress?
For fucks sake, just think about it, Kent! Nora snapped. What better PR could PayTag dream of than catching a group of internet terrorists red-handed? A chance to show the world how effective their security apparatus is, and simultaneously how desperate and evil we, their opponents, are? If youre not with us, youre with the terrorists – that tricks worked before. Shit, how come I didnt see this coming … ?
She picked up a stick and began to draw some lines in the grit on the track.
The EU Data Retention Directive would have swept through every parliament in Europe, just like anti-terrorism legislation did after 9/11. Then PayTag could sit back and rake in the profits. The Game Master came up with a suspected terrorist, and fixed him up with a few other suitable scapegoats. People who had already outlived their usefulness …
She scratched over the lines she had drawn, turning them into crosses.
Four of them …
No-one spoke for a while.
Then Hasselqvist opened his mouth again, but Nora beat him to it.
It must have been him. You get that, dont you?
HP didnt answer.
W-who? I dont get it! Hasselqvist whined.
The Source, Manga. It must have been him deceiving us.
We dont know that, HP muttered.
Of course we do …
The penny finally seemed to have dropped for Hasselqvist:
The whole thing was his idea! It was him who brought us together, me, Nora, Jeff …
And you, HP, Nora said quietly as she went on drawing lines on the ground.
There could be other explanations. He might have been tricked himself, the Game Master might have …
You just dont want to see it, Nora snapped, throwing the stick into the undergrowth. We got fucked, properly fucked by someone whos an expert at mind games like this. For all we know, Manga could have been working directly for the Game Master. Maybe he could even …
She broke off.
What? What were you going to say, Nora? HP snapped back. Lets hear your brilliant deduction … !
I know Manga is your friend, but you have to consider the fact that he could actually BE the Game Master …
Impossible!
Why? Hasselqvist seemed to have taken Noras side.
Because Ive met the Game Master, I told you. His name is Tage Sammer, and hes about seventy …
How do you know hes the Game Master? Did he say so? Nora again. They were working as a team now.
Yes. Well, no, not in so many words …
He could hear how flaky it sounded.
Look, its like this: I met him out in the middle of a forest. He gave me a task, a totally mad one that I couldnt possibly carry out. He wanted me to attack the royal family, okay?
No-one said anything, the other two seemed to be waiting for him to go on.
Theyve been chasing me ever since, trying to send me mad …
Was that when you decided to shoot Black? Nora said.
Erm … yes, and no. I mean, I wasnt really myself …
But what did the Game stand to gain from you going mad? I mean, if they wanted you to carry out a task … ?
He had to admit that he had no answer to that.
Manga is dead, he said bluntly. That, if anything, proves …
Do we actually know that? Hasselqvist was sounding very agitated now. Okay, so Nora saw the barn explode. But what if Manga managed to get out … ?
Hmm. Im inclined to agree with HP on that, Nora said. No-one could have survived that!
A short silence followed as Hasselqvist reflected on this.
Okay, how about this: the helicopter was there to give Manga a chance to escape. Create a diversion so that wed all leave without him. But they hadnt counted on the explosives going up, because they were supposed to be in the van. Dont you remember how Manga protested when Jeff said we had to move everything into the Polo?
Hasselqvist was sounding more and more heated.
That must have been it. The helicopter would have given him a chance to get out, leaving the rest of us to head off to the tunnel on our own. And that fits with the GPS transmitter I found in the back of the van. They needed a way to keep track of us once we were on our own, without Manga …
Nora looked like she wanted to say something, but Hasselqvist carried on.
Then, when we switched vehicles, they lost us. So they were left staring at the tunnel while we snuck in through the main entrance. It all fits …
HP didnt respond, just stood up and marched straight out into the forest.
Where are you going? Nora called after him.
Need a piss, he muttered, mostly to himself.
He had no desire at all to continue this discussion. Manga was dead, Sammer was the Game Master. If Manga had somehow been involved, the short-sighted little snake had in all likelihood been shafted as well, just like him and the two muppets by the van.
He stopped, whipped out his joystick and took aim at an anthill. Someone had betrayed them, that much was crystal clear. But if it wasnt Manga, then who was it … ?
Another question he had no answer to …
So what do we do now? Nora said when he returned to the van with a fresh cig in the corner of his mouth.
We head back to civilization, find a computer with a decent internet connection, and send the contents of that hard-drive to every newsroom we can think of. And to the email address of every MP, of course.
He took a deep drag.
That ought to give them something to think about before the vote on the EU directive. Its a pretty shocking experience, he went on, getting all of your electronic footprints thrown back in your face like that. And the papers will have a field day. Just think of all the goodies hidden away on that hard-drive.
He nodded towards his rucksack.
Affairs, tax fiddles, all sorts of unsuitable connections. You name it!
He grinned and shook his head.
It might even lead to a new election … In which case …
… PayTag, Black and the Game are fucked! Nora concluded.
Her voice sounded a bit brighter.
Theres no way they could recover from something like this. Not just because the most wanted man in Sweden managed to fool them and get in and out of their ultra-secure underground bunker …
HP muttered something, finished his fag and ground the butt into the dirt.
… but because the hard-drive proves that they really did have the tools to cream off their customers information. Picking out anything of interest, then refining it into a saleable asset. Just as we suspected the whole fucking time!!! Theres no way anyone would want to work with them after this …