Alex Lukeman: The Cup

"I don't see what it's got to do with us."

"The Swedes are overwhelmed. The connection to ISIS is bad news. They've asked President Rice for help and we're it."

"Don't the Swedes vet these people when they come over the border?"

"It's a sensitive issue. Most of the refugees are Muslims from the Middle East and Africa. They've brought a huge wave of crime and violence into Sweden but the police are undermanned and hamstrung by the socialist government."

"Why doesn't their government do something about it?" Ronnie asked.

"The Swedish Social Democratic Party puts the welfare of the refugees ahead of its own people. Their policies are going to cost them the next election, but for the moment they're still in charge and pushing their agenda. People who complain are attacked in the press as xenophobic and racist."

"Does this mean we're going to Sweden?" Nick asked.

"What the President wants, he gets."

"What are we supposed to do over there?"

"Find out what Andersson knew. Or at least what the Swedes know that he knew. He would have filed reports. See if you can pin down a connection to ISIS. If you find something, follow it up. Use your best judgment, but remember that you're under their command as long as you're in the country.

"I don't see why Rice thinks we're the best people to do it."

"Maybe he just likes us," Lamont said.

"Lamont… " Harker's tone carried a warning note.

"Sorry, Director."

"We have an understanding with Sweden. They keep an eye on Russia for us, we help them out once in a while. Sending you over there is part of the quid pro quo. I'm sending all of you. Just in case you run into something serious."

"The guy in that picture ran into something serious," Ronnie said.

"He had to know something," Nick said. "Why torture him if they only wanted him dead?"

"It could be a message to the local Muslim population," Selena said.

"What do you mean?" Harker asked.

"The symbolism. That man was crucified. ISIS does that."

"So what's the message?" Lamont asked.

"Keep your mouth shut. We can make this happen to you."

"Was Andersson a cop?" Ronnie asked.

Harker tapped her fingers on her desktop. "No. He worked for KSI, the Office of Special Collection. That's more or less Sweden's equivalent of the CIA, though it's a lot smaller. You don't hear much about it in Sweden, or anywhere else."

"Swedish spies?" Ronnie asked. "Seems like everybody's got spies these days."

"KSI specializes in HUMINT, human intelligence. Andersson would have been working informants. You'll have to follow his trail."

"When do we leave?" Nick asked.

"Tomorrow. You're going commercial on SAS. National headquarters for KSI is in a suburb of Stockholm called Solna. I booked your flight. Your contact over there is a Major Otto Forsberg."

"Did you book a hotel for us?" Selena asked.

"No," Harker said, "I thought I'd leave that to you."

"Weapons?" Nick asked.

"The Swedes don't want you bringing them into the country."

"I don't like that."

"There's nothing I can do about it. If there's a problem, let me know and I'll see what I can do."

"I'd feel better if you'd send a package to the embassy, just in case."

"I can do that," Elizabeth said.

"What's the weather like this time of year?" Lamont asked.

"Cold. Be glad Stockholm doesn't get as cold as it does farther north."

It was nighttime when they arrived in Stockholm. Late October in Sweden meant short days and nights growing long. The city was already in winter mode. The temperature outside was a chilly 10° above zero. Snow covered the ground around the airport.

A man wearing a dark overcoat came forward to meet them as they neared customs. He had the face of a man who had seen more than he wanted to. He was around six feet tall, about Nick's height, with the same hard look Nick saw every time he looked in a mirror. It was something that came with years of military service. He was about forty years old, with blonde hair cropped close to his head. He had ice blue eyes that passed over Nick and the others with quick appraisal.

"Nicholas Carter?"

"Yes."

"Otto Forsberg. Welcome to Sweden."

Forsberg's English was good, his accent slight. They shook hands. Nick introduced the others. In Sweden, everyone learned English in school.

"Come with me," Forsberg said. He flashed his ID and took them through customs, bypassing inspection.

"Do you have checked baggage?" he asked.

"No, just what we're carrying."

"Good. I have a car waiting."

As they left the airport and stepped into the Swedish night, the cold hit them with razor sharpness. Selena pulled up the fur-lined hood of a blue parka. The coat set off the blue/violet color of her eyes and her blondish hair. With her high cheekbones and fair skin, most Swedes would take her for a native.

They got into the car, a black Volvo wagon idling by the entrance to the terminal. The heater was blasting. Nick was glad of the warmth inside the car.

"Where are you staying?" Forsberg asked.

Selena gave him the name of the hotel. Forsberg said something to the driver and they pulled away into light traffic.

Forsberg opened a briefcase that had been in the car and took out a folder. He handed it to Nick.

"We will begin tomorrow. In the meantime, I thought you would want to see what we have found out so far."

"Anything new on who killed your man?"

"We're still following up on our inquiries."

"So, nothing new."

"Not yet."

"How do you plan to work us into your investigation?"

"I will be honest. It was not my idea to invite you here. I don't see what you can do that we can't. However, you are here now and my orders are to find a way for you to be useful."

"Sure glad we can be useful," Lamont said.

"It's an awkward situation," Forsberg said. "At this point I'm not sure how you fit in. You bring fresh eyes to our investigation. Perhaps you'll see something we've overlooked. Or you may have an idea that helps us find whoever killed Vilgot. You know what it's like. Intelligence work is a little like being a policeman. There's a lot of looking at bits of information and trying to piece them together into a picture we can understand."

"You knew the dead man?" Selena asked.

"Yes, I knew him. We are a small organization and he was a good friend. This is personal for me. I want the people who did this. If you can help me do that, I will be very grateful."

"We didn't bring our weapons," Nick said. "Speaking of grateful, that's what I'd be if you could issue us pistols."

"You think you will need them?"

"Something like what you have under your coat would probably work."

"Ah, I didn't think that was quite so obvious."

"What are you carrying?" Ronnie asked.

"A 10mm Pist 88 , what you would call a Glock 17."

"To answer your question," Nick said, "I don't know if we'll need them but I don't want to find out we do if we run into trouble. Whoever killed your man isn't playing games. If we succeed in finding him, he may be with his buddies. Even if he's not, he's not going to go peacefully."

"I'll see what I can do," Forsberg said, "but it's unlikely to be approved. Not many of us carry guns here."

"Mmm," Nick said.

"Tomorrow we are going to one of the asylum centers for the refugees," Forsberg said. "It's the last place Andersson was seen before he disappeared. I want to question the residents again."

"Residents?"

"It's an apartment block, people from Syria and Iraq. It's not a pleasant place but it's better than living in a plastic tent. The people there are lucky."

"Some kind of luck," Lamont said.

"Do you speak Arabic?" Selena asked.