‘Over here!’ a voice shouted.
The guard had opened the door wide and had taken up a position halfway between it and her. He’d drawn his baton and was staring at the corner where their attackers ought to have appeared by now.
With a couple of quick strides Rebecca half-pulled and half-shoved the Minister for Integration through the door that they had left just a few minutes before. She could still hear the assistant’s hysterical sobbing behind her, but paid him no attention, concentrating on getting her charge to safety.
It wasn’t until several minutes later, after reinforcements had arrived and the situation had calmed down, that she realized that the whole of her upper body was covered in blood.
Dear HP
This is a trial game worth 100 points.
Try it out, and if you like the experience,
decide if you want to continue playing.
This is your task: At the next station a man in a light coat will get on the train.
The man will be carrying a red umbrella.
For 100 points, you must take the umbrella
before the train reaches Stockholm Central.
If you succeed I will unlock the phone and it will be yours to use as long as you participate in the Game. Do you understand?
Yes
No
This was actually fucking cool, HP grinned to himself as he clicked on Yes. Real Mission Impossible stuff – all that was missing was the dry voice and the telephone going up in smoke.
This message will self-destruct in ten seconds …
He still hadn’t managed to work out which one of the other passengers was working for Manga, but it didn’t really matter. He thought he had a pretty good idea of what it was all about now. Either he was expected to chicken out and would have to put up with weeks of crap about what a coward he was, or else – and this was more likely, now he came to think about it – there’d be some trick with the umbrella. It would be glued down, or would spray water, or give him an electric shock when he tried to grab it, and one or other of the passengers would film it so he could enjoy his humiliation on YouTube for months to come. It really was a beautiful set up, and now it was too late to back out.
Excellent!
When you get the signal to start playing, fix the phone to your clothes with the camera facing out, so we can see how you get on with your task.
Do you understand?
Yep, he understood. Fix the phone to his front, camera outwards.
YouTube, here I come!
HP grinned again. God, Manga was an ingenious bastard. This set a whole new standard. As he clicked on Yes once more, he realized to his surprise that his hangover was almost gone.
Good, HP!
You can start your task.
Good luck!
The screen went dark.
Okay, better follow the rules for a bit longer, he thought, and attached the phone to his belt, with the camera facing out, as per the instructions.
As the train pulled slowly into Sollentuna station he could feel his heart start to beat faster.
The man with the light coat got on at the far end of the carriage and it took a few moments before HP saw him. An ordinary-looking Swede, about forty, one metre eighty or so, same as him. Dark-framed glasses, hair combed back, a summer suit and coat, he noted as the train set off from the platform. That had to be hot.
The man’s lower half was hidden, so HP couldn’t see if he really was carrying an umbrella. There was only one way to find out.
He stood up and started moving slowly through the carriage towards the man. For some reason he was sweating, his t-shirt was sticking to his chest and his palms itched, but this time it was more than just the hangover.
As he passed the teenage girls one of them suddenly burst out laughing and the sound made him jump. Pull yourself together, this is only a game, an elaborate prank, nothing to get excited about. Stealing a crummy umbrella was hardly that much of a challenge for him. He’d nicked considerably better things than that.
Now he could see that the man was carrying a black and white paper bag, one of those designer ones with a rope handle and a big logo to show the world that he could afford to shop in the smartest shops. A cylindrical object stuck up from one side of the bag. The umbrella!
HP felt his pulse start to race. He had to admit that this was all pretty exciting. Stealing something while the whole thing was being filmed …
Okay, so the man in the coat was in on the whole thing, but even so. There was something appealing about the unfolding situation that he couldn’t quite explain. But he really didn’t want to make a fool of himself.
‘Next stop Karlberg. Karlberg, next stop,’ the speaker in the roof announced, and he felt the train start to slow down. He took a few more cautious steps towards the man, who hadn’t so much as glanced up at him.
Then the train jolted several times and stopped at the platform. The doors opened, letting in a smell of warm tarmac and hot brakes. HP took another step forward. Here we go!
‘Pigs’ blood,’ Superintendent Runeberg said from behind his desk, leaning back in his chair.
Although several hours had passed since the events outside Rosenbad, and even though the office was air-conditioned, Rebecca was still sweating. Her hair was wet from the shower, and in the absence of anything better she had put on her gym kit, the only clean clothes she had in her locker.
‘They threw pigs’ blood at you and Lessmark,’ her boss went on. He was a thickset man in his mid-forties, with a steely gaze, spiky blond hair and a suntan that went all the way down to his scalp.
A perfect example of a bodyguard. Good-looking too, if you like the over-pumped type, she thought.
But those days were far behind her now.
Strangely, considering what had happened, she felt pretty good, with the possible exception of a bit of adrenalin-fuelled trembling that she was doing her best to hide. She had done her job and her charge was okay, that was the main thing. She could think through the details later.
‘According to Forensics, one of the men threw a balloon filled with pigs’ blood at the Minister for Integration, but you burst it with your baton and most of the contents ended up on you. The minister escaped with a few drops on her jacket
