A Death in Sweden

“Okay, I wouldn’t have left two people like that, but I can understand why he did it. And I won’t decide until I have all the facts.”


He nodded, and stared at her for a second, before saying, “The guy you went with to get the lunch, was he your boyfriend?” She looked up at him, accusing, as if asking what business it was of his. He thought of Inger, telling him how he didn’t understand women, not really, and he had to hand it to her on that. “I don’t mean to pry. I just mean . . . I’m sorry I had to kill him.”

She relented a little and after a pause, she said, “Roommates. We shared an apartment, that was all. He was a good guy.”

“What about the team Brabham has out at the house?”

“The alpha team.”

Incredulous, Dan said, “The alpha team?”

“Bill’s idea of a joke.”

“How many are there?”

“Nine. No, four.”

“That’s quite a difference—nine, four—which is it?”

“There were nine. Jack Carlton was team leader, but he was hit, so was Rob Foster. Then Alex Robinson took over but he had to fly home yesterday—he needs an operation on his leg. You killed two in the office. That leaves four.”

“The guy who needs the operation, Alex Robinson?”

She nodded and said, “He got hit, shooting it out at Charlie Hamsun’s place.”

“When they were ambushed?” She nodded again, but looked less certain because of his tone. “It was just me and Charlie at Charlie Hamsun’s place, but it’s important you know this in case you’re ever unlucky enough to be in the field with this Robinson guy—he ran. He ran as soon as Jack got into trouble, didn’t even fire a bullet. Charlie hit him with a sniper round as he high-tailed it into the woods.”

Josh came out of his trance again, sounding angry and irritated as he said, “I knew that story was bullshit!”

“So, this alpha team, it was them who went after Charlie in Croatia?”

“Of course. After what had happened with Jack and Rob, four of them went.”

“Good, and what I need to know is whether all four were involved in torturing him, or just some of them, and I want names.”

She looked as if he was asking for the impossible, and said, “We don’t know who did what, we just know the mission was a success. And it was just the other day. With you running wild in France, we’ve been fighting to keep our heads above water.”

“I don’t buy it. These guys like to tell war stories. You heard all about how Jack Carlton and Rob Foster died. You’ve had two guys loafing around your office since yesterday, the rest of the team holed up at Brabham’s place. You’re telling me you still have no idea? That no one talked about how they killed the guy who killed Jack Carlton.”

She didn’t answer, but Josh was suddenly paying a lot more attention and he looked at her and said, “For God’s sake, Callie, just tell him.” He waited only a moment, and when she didn’t fill the pause, he turned to Dan and said, “Alex Robinson was shouting his mouth off about how he cut the big bastard up and shot him six times before killing him.”

Callie still didn’t speak, but he could see from her expression that it was true. It was a frustrating truth at that, because it meant the guy he most wanted to harm was safely out of reach in America. He wouldn’t stay out of reach forever, though.

“Thanks for telling me, Josh. And, Callie, I said you needed to watch your back if ever you worked with Robinson, but you don’t need to worry about that. In fact, you can just pass on a message to him—when you see him, let him know that whatever happens, whatever job he takes, the day will come when I track him down and make him pay for every one of those wounds he inflicted on my friend.”

Again, she didn’t respond but seemed to be turning something over in her mind, and a minute or so passed before she said, “Has it never occurred to you, Dan, that you’ve picked the wrong side? You assume Patrick White is a force for good here, that Bill Brabham is the bad guy. I might not agree with the way we’re going after assets that worked in good faith, but White was a maverick who left this agency in jeopardy. Now he’s jumped ship and is trying to take revenge on people like Bill.”

“You think Patrick White was a maverick? Callie, you wouldn’t believe some of the things Western intelligence agencies were doing ten years ago. There was stuff going on that even the people at WikiLeaks wouldn’t have believed. The thing is, though, you believe in it all because you believe in Bill Brabham.” He walked over to get one of the laptops and put it on the floor midway between her and Josh. “I’ll tell you something else—the only side I ever picked until now is my own. I’ve had a selfish life, but for the first time ever in these last few weeks, I have come down on one side, because I’ve learned what kind of person Bill Brabham is, and now I’ll show you too.”

Kevin Wignall's books