Oh? He sat up again, rubbing his head.
The same words, over and over again.
What words?
The Luttern labyrinth. What does that mean?
He shrugged his shoulders.
You tell me. Ive been trying to work it out for weeks now. Luttern is a region in northern Germany, in Westphalia, to be more precise. Thats all Ive managed to find out.
Okay, well that explains the street name …
What?
Westphalia was Swedish once, thats why they named a street after it.
Hang on, what are you talking about? Theres no Lutternsgatan in Stockholm …
No, not any more, there isnt. They got rid of it when they built Kungsgatan. They did away with another road at the same time, Hötorgsgränd …
She was interrupted by an announcement over the tannoy.
We will shortly be arriving at Stockholm Central Station. The platform will be on the left hand side of the train, facing the direction of travel.
We at Swedish Railways would like to welcome you to Stockholm, and once again, we apologize for the late arrival of this service …
Nora stood up from her seat.
Time to go …
He stretched, then squeezed out of the window seat.
So where was it, then, Lutternsgatan?
Where Malmskillnadsgatan crosses Kungsgatan, I think.
The train was slowing down jerkily, making the carriage sway.
I did a unit on the architecture of Stockholm at university, in case youre wondering … she added. The only reason I remember Lutternsgatan is that we were given half the day off to go and take pictures of the sign …
The sign? He pulled the rucksack on.
Theres a sign under the Malmskillnad Bridge … She helped him with the straps. To commemorate the breaching of the Brunkeberg Ridge and the successful union of separate districts of the city, something like that. It was part of the test …
She carefully did up the metal catch across his chest, and pulled up the hood of his jacket. The other people in the carriage were making their way to the exits, but Nora took HPs hand and forced her way through to one of the doors. The train pulled slowly into the platform.
They saw the men as the train moved slowly along the platform. Two standing at the end of the platform, another two in the middle, all of them in dark suits and sunglasses, their earpieces clearly visible. Nora squeezed his hand.
Ready?
He nodded.
She turned towards him and started fiddling with the thick flap of material above the catch of the rucksack, adjusting the velcro several times before she was satisfied. It felt bulky against his chest, as if it had grown while he was asleep.
There, now youll be able to run without it rubbing.
The train made a few last jolts.
If we get separated dont wait for me, she said. The mission comes first. Whatever happens you have to get to that internet café, okay?
He nodded.
Good.
Just as the door began to bleep, she leaned forward, put her hand behind his back and kissed him.
Thirty minutes to go, are you ready?
She nodded to Runeberg as he marched towards her over the cobbles, but he didnt respond.
Over here, everyone.
The other four bodyguards joined them.
Weve just received new information. The two remaining suspects are not longer thought to be in the forest outside Uppsala. They may have managed to get back to Stockholm.
Are we cancelling the cortege? one of the other bodyguards asked.
Runeberg shook his head. The threat is not judged serious enough …
He gave Rebecca a quick look.
Someone really wants this cortege to go ahead. At almost any cost, it would seem …
She let a few eager passengers out first before pulling him onto the platform.
The train on the other side of the platform must have just arrived as well, because the platform was soon full of people heading in all directions.
They zigzagged their way towards the exit, trying to keep their heads down.
The exit was getting closer.
A loud cry behind them made him look back.
Two men in suits were heading straight for them.
Come on!
Nora dragged him after her, forging ahead faster and faster.
Off to the left in front of them two more men were trying to elbow their way through the crowd of passengers. Nora broke into a run, pushing a couple of people straight at the two men. One of the passengers fell over right in front of the suits. But Nora didnt stop. She pulled his hand harder, speeded up and found a gap along the edge of the platform.
The exit was getting nearer.
Then he caught sight of the man from the Fortress. His square frame was unmistakeable. The security chief, the man hed almost run over …
The man wasnt moving, he was just standing there waiting by the exit. Staring straight at them. His knees were slightly bent and he had his hands out in front of him, like an American footballer.
HP pulled Noras hand, then looked back over his shoulder. Their pursuers were just a few metres behind them.
No chance of turning back, that escape route was completely cut off …
Ten metres away from the man, and HP thought he could just make out a hint of a smile. A creepy, snakelike smile that made HP shudder.
But Nora carried on straight ahead without seeming to realize the danger.
The man steeled himself, thrusting his shoulders out … At the last moment Nora let go of his hand. Her long legs pumped a few times like pistons on the platform …
Then she jumped.
She crashed straight into the man. Their bodies collided with a muffled thud.
He heard Nora yell something, saw her hands rise and fall as she made an all-out attack on the man, and HP was overwhelmed by an instinctive urge to help her.
Then he realized that she wasnt shouting at the man.
She was yelling at him.
Keep going, keep going, keep …
One of the mans massive hands grabbed Nora by the neck, lifted her from the ground and cut off her cry. HP looked straight ahead and aimed for the exit. But it was impossible not to look back. Nora was struggling wildly, trying to loosen the mans grasp round her neck.
HP looked forward again to avoid running into the doorpost. When he emerged into the hall he looked back one last time and just managed to see the massive man toss Noras limp body aside as if it were a ragdoll.
The feeling took him by surprise. It came out of nowhere, and it took him just a fraction of a second to identify it. Hate.
White hot, burning hate!
His pursuers were still close behind him. HP raced through the concourse, aiming for the main exit. But just as he was about to swing left through the glass doors leading to Centralplan he caught sight of a police car outside, and carried on straight ahead instead. Someone shouted something behind him, but he ignored them.
Shit, obviously he should have run down into the underground network instead of heading straight for the nearest exit like some fucking rat …
The south end of the concourse was rapidly approaching and all the exits were behind him. There was nothing but restaurants at this end, no decent escape route anywhere.
A quick look back.
Two muppets in suits ten metres behind him, then another group led by the square-framed man.
The door to the restaurant was getting closer but he made no effort to slow down.
Instead he stormed past the reception area and carried on towards the back of the room.
A swing door opened to his left and a waiter came out carrying two plates. HP raced past him with the narrowest of margins and shot through the swing door into the kitchen.
Two men in aprons looked up in surprise.
Exit? HP yelled.
One of them pointed with a spatula.
Thanks! he managed to splutter before rushing on.
There was a serving trolley parked by the wall and he pulled it over behind him to slow his pursuers. But he didnt waste any time looking at the result. Instead he crashed into the door with full force, hammering the handle down and lurching out into an enclosed yard. In front of him, on the other side of the fence, stood the ten-metre tall cement pillars supporting the Klarastrand flyover.
Out of reflex he ran to the right, and it took him several seconds to realize that the way out was back to the left.
Fuck!
The men chasing him crashed through the door, but hed just spotted another way out. The end of the station building was covered in scaffolding, and there was a ladder not far ahead of him. He scampered up it to the first platform like a chimp on acid, and just as the first suit put his hand on the ladder he kicked it away as hard as he could.
The ladder fell to the ground and he heard swearing below him, but didnt stop to see if it had landed on anyone. He raced off along the planks until he found some more steps, and shot up them to the next level.
The railing of the flyover was clearly visible now.
Up another level, and now he could feel the scaffolding shake as his pursuers ran along the platforms below him.
Another level, and now he was the same height as the railing.
The only problem was that there were two metres of empty air between it and the scaffolding …
One last ladder and he was at the top of the scaffolding.
Fuck, it was high!
Someone shouted something in English. The platform was shaking badly, and he guessed that everyone chasing him was now scrambling up the scaffolding.
The flyover was about a metre below him, but at least two metres away. Difficult, but not impossible. Well, that was what he hoped, anyway …
But of course he did have the rucksack on his back now.
It felt heavier than before, but that could well be because he was weaker.
The scaffolding was shaking more and more.