A Death in Sweden (18 page)

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Authors: Kevin Wignall

BOOK: A Death in Sweden
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Chapter Thirty-seven

Dan went back and had dinner at the hotel, then slept for a while and went out again later when the street was quiet. He could see the lights were out in the office building so he punched in the code and stepped inside.

There were no cameras in the lobby. There was an elevator, but he wouldn’t want to use that the next day. Around the corner behind it he found the stairs and walked up to the top floor.

Stairs and elevator opened into another small lobby with only one solid-looking door. It was a combined swipe and keypad. He doubted they used the same code for both doors, and didn’t want to risk trying it in case the system recorded failed entry attempts.

Instead he went back across the road and returned with his bag. He installed a small camera cut into the side of one of the polystyrene ceiling panels and checked it on the monitor, recording himself as if he were keying in.

Happy, he took the bag back across the road and then went to his hotel. He set his alarm for seven, though he didn’t sleep much and was up beforehand. He grabbed some breakfast and made his way along the street.

At eight, he sent a message to Josh on Adam’s phone, saying, “Worse this morning. Staying in bed for the day.”

Minutes later he got a message from Josh, saying, “Take it easy, buddy.”

Dan watched the rest of them arrive, just as he had the day before. The only difference this time was that the two guys in the car arrived before nine. It suggested he’d been right, that they’d been sent to beef up security.

As each one went in he looked again through the binoculars, making sure the code didn’t change from day to day. He checked, too, that the camera was working, and just from a cursory glance he already had a rough idea of the key code for the inner door. Once he was satisfied all of them were in, he went back over the tapes, firstly confirming the code, then looking at the other one to see what he could see of the office.

There seemed to be a small reception area just inside the door, easy chairs, so most of the desks had to be to the right and around the corner from it. That would help him with cover if he needed it. The key, though, would be getting the two guys from the Vergoncey first. He had no doubt the others would all be able to defend themselves, but not at the same pitch.

At twelve he started to get himself ready, and at half past the hour he sat in front of the monitor looking at the view through the camera that looked directly at the door of the office.

It was fifteen minutes before the door opened and the same two people, the woman and the guy, came out to go and get the lunch order—maybe they were the most junior, or more likely, they just enjoyed the opportunity of getting out for half an hour. Either way, it would earn them a stay of execution.

As they came out, but before the door had closed, something was said behind them, and the woman laughed as if at some corny joke and turned to say something back. There was the two-man security detail, lounging on the easy chairs right inside the door.

Dan moved to the window and watched as the man and woman came out of the building and walked along the street. He wondered if they were a couple. He doubted it, somehow. When the other guys had been showing her attention the previous evening, her companion hadn’t seemed unhappy or possessive.

He waited fifteen minutes, not wanting to wait longer in case they were served quicker today or went somewhere closer. Then he crossed the street, keyed in and climbed the stairs, seeing no one, almost certainly being seen by no one.

He keyed in the other number for the top door, swiped Adam’s card and pushed the door open. He hit the older guy first, a shot straight to the head even as he was smiling and no doubt ready to make some comment to the woman about lunch.

The fair-haired guy tried to jump up and go for his gun at the same time, his reflexes pretty good, but Dan hit him in the chest, knocking him back into the easy chair, and fired again at his head before moving around the corner.

One of the suited guys was just sitting at a computer and staring across the room, as if wondering what the commotion was. The other was scrabbling in a drawer, probably for a gun that should have been on him. Dan hit him first, then the static one.

But that was where he ran into difficulties. Because he couldn’t see the other casually dressed guy. There was a door to a bathroom, but there was also a desk in the far corner that was surrounded by dividers like a cubicle.

Dan stepped back to the cover of the corner, checking behind him to make sure of what he already knew, that he was surrounded only by bodies. He waited a beat then and said, “If you come out now, I won’t hurt you. If you make me come over there, I will.”

“I wouldn’t do that. I’m armed!”

He was in the cubicle.

“Wrong answer. If you’re armed, I’ll kill you.”

He heard him mutter to himself, “Oh God, oh God.” He was panicking, and Dan guessed from the informal dress that this was the other tech guy, probably the Josh who’d exchanged messages with Adam.

Dan had come in here intent on killing all of them, but it was amazing how quickly that need for vengeance had dissipated, or at least become discerning. He’d still take down the other part of the team, wherever they were, probably at Brabham’s house, because those were the people who’d done for his friends and tried to do for him. But there was nothing to be gained from killing this guy.

He spoke now, desperately weighing his options as he said, “If I come out . . .”

“Throw the gun out first. If you come out with a gun, I’ll shoot.”

“How do I know you won’t shoot me anyway?”

“If I wanted to shoot you, do you think that cubicle or a gun or anything else would stop me?”

There was silence, and Dan was beginning to get impatient, thinking of the returning lunch party, but then a gun slid across the floor from behind the cubicle.

“Okay, I’m coming out. Please, don’t shoot me.” He stood with his hands raised. He had longish hair and the beginnings of a beard, a young face beneath it all, like some grad student who’d considered becoming a folk singer but had fallen into this by mistake. “Seriously, I’m just a tech guy.”

“Are you Josh?” He nodded. “Yeah, it was me who sent the message from Adam’s phone. Adam’s dead.”

“Oh God.”

Dan took the cuffs and threw them to him.

Josh caught them and Dan said, “Come out from behind the cubicle and put them on, hands in front.” When he hesitated, his expression pleading for more assurances, he added, “You’re still alive. No reason you can’t stay that way, as long as you don’t try anything stupid.”

“I won’t, I promise.”

He stepped out, desperately trying to avoid anything that might resemble a sudden movement, and put on the cuffs.

“Okay, move over here and sit on the edge of this desk where I can see you.”

Josh did as he was told and Dan was pretty sure he wouldn’t try anything, but he still kept an eye on him as he moved the two bodies from the easy chairs, dragging them and dropping them behind one of the desks. A lot of blood was visible on one of the chairs, from the head wound, so he took an overcoat that was hanging up and threw it over the chair, the result casual enough that it was unlikely to arouse suspicions.

He walked back to Josh then and said, “They should be back any minute. I’ll be straight with you, I’d intended to kill all of you today, for what you’ve done to me and my friends.” Josh tried to respond, no doubt to argue his innocence, but Dan put a finger up and silenced him. He pointed at the two bodies he’d just moved and said, “Those two I would’ve killed anyway, but I don’t want to turn this into something bigger than it needs to be. You understand?”

“I think so.” He didn’t, but it probably didn’t matter, either.

“What I’m saying is your two colleagues who went to get the lunch, I don’t want to hurt them, but if you speak or try to attract their attention in any way, I’ll have no choice but to kill all three of you.”

“You . . . you always have a choice.” Dan raised his eyebrows, his expression alone asking Josh if he really wanted to debate this issue. “I won’t say a word.”

“Good. Is the rest of the team at Brabham’s place?”

He nodded and said, “We’re only the logistical side here, we . . .
we just . . .” Something about Dan’s expression cut him short.

They sat in silence for a few seconds. Josh still looked eager to say something else, and opened his mouth but stopped himself when they heard the elevator mechanism spring into life.

Dan pointed and said, “Move onto that desk there.” Josh moved quickly and Dan walked to the far side of the entrance door from where he was able to cover all the angles.

He could hear them chatting and laughing as they stepped out of the elevator, then the activity beyond the door before the lock freed itself and they pushed it open.

As they stepped inside, she was laughing at something and he was saying, “Seriously, that’s exactly what happened.”

They were in and the door had closed behind them before they turned and saw Josh sitting on the desk, though they couldn’t see any bodies yet. They both froze, trying to make sense of it. It probably would have come to them after a moment or two but he didn’t give them time.

“Either of you move and I’ll kill you.”

They hadn’t been moving anyway, but there was a different quality to their stillness now.

The woman said, “Josh?”

“Everyone else is dead, but he’s not gonna kill us if you do what he says.”

The guy said, “Mr. Hendricks, Dan . . .”

“Move forward, slowly, put the lunch down on the desk in front of you, and then turn around with your hands visible. Josh is telling the truth, but I’ll kill you if you try anything.”

They stepped forward, though he could see the guy turn his head a fraction, as if trying to tell her something. She either didn’t see him or was better at concealing it, and she put the bags on the desk in front of her. He did the same, clumsily, and one of them fell to the side of the desk.

He made a dramatic effort to save it, but Dan could see exactly what he was doing. The world shifted down into slow motion and Dan was furious with the guy, wondering why he had to do this, why he had to put Dan in this position again.

The guy righted himself, turning, and Dan had to at least credit him with a clean draw from his holster, but it wouldn’t be enough. Before the guy’s eyes had even locked on their target, Dan had fired, hitting him in the side of the head.

The woman let out a small scream but had her hands up. The guy crumpled, still midway through his heroic turn, and fell, his head crashing against the side of a different desk. He landed with his arm underneath him, looking uncomfortable even in death.

Dan noticed Josh shaking his head, and it seemed his consternation was aimed less at what Dan had done than at his colleague’s unnecessary heroics. The woman still had her hands up, but she was breathing deep and rapid, a febrile quality about her.

“Do you have a gun?”

“It’s in my purse, next to my desk.”

“Okay, turn around, slowly.”

She turned, and despite the shaky breathing, she looked resolute and met his gaze directly.

Dan said, “There was no need for that to happen.”

“He went for his gun. I can vouch for you on that.”

She was trying to appease him, which he didn’t like somehow, and he said, “I don’t need you to vouch for me on anything.” He felt he’d been peevish then. She was scared, that was all, and understandably so. “What’s your name?”

“Callie Frost.”

“Oh.” She looked questioningly, and he said, “No, I imagined you being Hispanic or . . .”

“Spanish. My mom is Spanish.”

He nodded, then said, “Take a seat, Callie, the chair over where Josh is sitting.” She crossed the room and sat down, and Dan pulled another chair over, gesturing for Josh to move from the desk. Once they were both sitting, Dan rested his weight on the edge of the desk opposite them and said, “What’s your role in this team, Callie? Josh is a tech guy. What do you do?”

“It varies. I’ve been running the external assets.”

He smiled and said, “Do you see the irony in that? You’ve been hiring external assets, most of whom haven’t been very good, to help kill some of the external assets who served this agency for years, one of whom has just taken apart your office.”

“We’ve only used them this last week, since you and Patrick White got active. Bill got nervous, but it isn’t easy finding reliable people at short notice.”

“Which is why Patrick White was so good, because he built up his roster over years.” She didn’t respond, and he wondered what line they’d been sold on the nature of Patrick’s service. “How many people are left on your list?”

She shook her head, but then, as if she saw a threat in his expression, she complied and said, “About a dozen for now. Targets are prioritized and continually reassessed. When they reach level one they go on the list. You’re currently the top target.”

Dan smiled at that, though he wasn’t sure if he’d earned that status because of what he’d been doing these recent weeks, or because a lot of far better, and therefore more dangerous, people had already been eliminated.

He looked at Josh and said, “You hear that description? What does that sound like to you?” He didn’t wait for an answer, but turned back to her and said, “To me, Callie, it sounds like a death squad. Makes me wonder if Brabham ever ran a station in South America back in the seventies.”

She’d regained her composure again now and said, “Do you really think you’re in any position to take the high ground, Mr. Hendricks?”

Josh looked panicked by her response, as if he thought the situation might still be more volatile than it seemed.

“With you, no, I’m not. With Bill Brabham, yes, because the lowest of the low is on higher ground than Bill Brabham.” She looked skeptical, but he said, “You don’t have to take my word for that—you’ll see the proof soon enough.”

She looked ready to respond, but jumped a little when a phone on the desk behind her started to ring and vibrate about the surface.

“It’s Eric’s phone.” Dan gestured for her to pick it up and she looked at the screen and said, “It’s Bill.”

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