Chapter 34. Valö, the Oskarsson boathouse, Monday, May 16th, 11:53.
“Damn! They clean got away,” declared Fintväder, standing at the open seaward entrance to the boathouse and watching as the sleek dark profile of the racing Barracuda stealth craft diminished to little more than a distant small speck on the gray wind-tossed sea.
“They won’t get far,” observed Hansson. “The Swedish Navy and Air Force are out there.”
“And so is that incoming storm,” replied Fintväder, pointing to the great mass of very low, threatening clouds rolling in over the sea. And the wind is picking up too. We’re in for a bit of a gale.”
“About these three fellows …”, interrupted the Captain in charge of the Swedish commandos. He had come up behind the two policeman. “It’s my understanding that the Police back in Uppsala would like to have them arrested and detained?”
“Yeah, do that, please,” responded Hansson. “We’ll be taking them back with us on the police launch … soon as the weather clears, that is. In the meantime let’s hold them in the cabin.”
“Right. Thought you’d also like to know that your man, Palmgren … the one who took a bullet in the shoulder … is going to be okay. Medic says the wound is superficial.”
“Thank goodness for that!” said Fintväder solemnly.
“One other thing … what do you want done with the two corpses? … couple of nasty customers from the looks of them.”
“We’ll be taking those two back with us too,” replied Fintväder, wrinkling his nose in distaste.
**********************
Office of Chief Inspector (Kriminalkommissarie) Lennart Björklund, Police Authority (Polismyndigheten) Headquarters, Svartbäcksgatan 49, Uppsala, Sweden, Monday, May 16th, 11:55.
“Are you having any success with cutting off their escape?” asked the Chief anxiously of the Captain of the Visby.
“Negative,” came the reply. “The damned thing is fast, and our radar won’t lock onto it. We’re also up against an incoming squall line that’s almost sure to swallow them up, and will force us to slow down.”
“Damn! And how about the Air Force?”
“Negative again. Low clouds and bad weather. Everything is grounded. Nothing possible there.”
The Chief was about to say something further … most probably one of his choice expletives, when he was distracted by the desk sergeant who was waving at him from outside the open office doorway.
“Yes, what is it?” demanded the Chief crossly.
“Sorry to disturb, Chief, but there’s a video call for you. Someone who claims he needs to speak with you urgently. Says he’s with the Syndicate.”
“Damn! Patch him in immediately.”
“A minute or two later, an image appeared on the wall screen … an image of a logo featuring a solid black disc against a dark red background with the words ‘SYNDICATE’ emblazoned across it in white. From the speakers came a metallic voice.
“Good morning, Inspector Björklund … I should almost say good afternoon as it’s nearly noon in Uppsala.”
“Who are you, where are you, and what do you want?”
“You needn’t know anything about who and where. and there is no way you can find out. I see you have the American CIA man, Barton there with you. Tell him not to try. It’s truly impossible to trace this transmission.”
“Then what do you want?”
“Just a friendly little chat, Björklund. I know that Senator Moore and his slutty assistant, Ms Merriweather, are there with you as well.”
“Alright, alright. You’ve made your point. You’re all powerful and have tabs on everything and everyone,” intervened the Senator, taking charge of the proceedings. “What do you want to chat about?”
“Ahhh, got your attention, have I? Good. Just a friendly update. The Syndicate has heard from its operatives. I’m informed that your daughter, Barbara, is in our hands. She was removed from the island where our Swedish client was holding her, and is being sped as we speak to a secret location from which she can be extracted from the region. My operative tells me that she is unharmed save for the ill effects of a brutal whipping … videos of which will be sent to you in good time. I’m sure you will find them quite entertaining. She writhes and screams so sexily under the lash. My operative tells me it’s really quite a spectacle.”
“You bastards! You know by now that I will not accede to your demands, not even for my daughter. And as I told you earlier, you haven’t much chance of extricating her from the region. The authorities have been very thorough.”
“I doubt they can stop us, Senator. It should be child’s play. We can bide our time. The Syndicate is everywhere, as you well know. We can stash her in places where the authorities can be paid off or may even be sympathetic … as in St. Petersburg and Kaliningrad, for instance … but in any of the Baltic countries, really. As I said, we’re literally everywhere.”
“Well, we’ll see. But, tell me. What exactly do you plan to do with her if you do manage to get her out?”
“That’s already been worked out, Senator. A certain well-known gentleman in Pyongyang has agreed to purchase her, and add her to his select stable of Western female sex slaves. He’s agreed to take the Swedish policewoman, Gun Thorell, too. He tells us that he’s hoping your upcoming run for the U.S. Presidency will be successful, as he intends to use your daughter’s freedom as a secret behind-the-scenes diplomatic bargaining chip when the time is right. Think about that, Senator.”
“My country would never accede to such a bargain!”
“It would if there was to be a show trial and public execution. Your daughter is quite outspoken about regimes such as Kim’s. And no telling what she might reveal under a thorough interrogation … Pyongyang-style. Like I said, think about it Senator. Good bye for now.”
And the screen went blank.
*************************
At sea, in the hold of the Barracuda stealth craft, Monday, May 16, 12:08.
Buffeted by the bouncing craft as it bucked the swells racing headlong into the wind, Barbara and Gun were thrown together again and again. and forced in the direction of the craft’s stern until their bodies came to rest against the back panel of the rectangularly-shaped hold into which they had been dumped. There was no light. They were in total darkness, and very cold. There was only the warmth of their naked bodies.
Tossed together again by a particularly big jolt, Barbara landed in such away that her bound hands were pressed into Gun’s face. Gun grunted and kneed her gently and insistently, while pushing her face into Barbara’s hands.
She got the message, and fumbled to get her fingertips under the edge of the tape over the police woman’s mouth, which she then managed to pull loose before the bow of the craft slammed into another wave and threw her aside.
“Bra gjort!” cried Gun in Swedish, before switching to English. “Well done! Now let’s try to get ourselves back-to-back and see if you can free my hands.”
Barbara nodded and tried to comply. It took three attempts, the bouncing of the boat defeating the first two. But she managed to get into position long enough on a third attempt to loosen the cords around Gun’s wrists. And Gun, in time, managed the rest … after which she untied her ankles and turned to freeing Barbara.
“Now what?” cried Barbara, rubbing her chafed wrists. She wasn’t in the best of shape for heroics. She was stiff and sore, and her whipped backside still smarted like wildfire. But at that point she was eager for anything … come what may.”
“We have to be clever,” warned Gun, raising her voice enough to be heard over the roar of the engine. “These guys are armed and ruthless. We’re naked and have few options. We’ll need surprise and confusion on our side … I’m feeling around on the backside of this box we’re in right now, and there seems to be a hatch door. I’m guessing it leads to the boat’s engine compartment. If we can get the hatch open and wiggle through, perhaps we can find a way to cut the engine … and that could be just the element of surprise and confusion we need.”
TBC
“Damn! They clean got away,” declared Fintväder, standing at the open seaward entrance to the boathouse and watching as the sleek dark profile of the racing Barracuda stealth craft diminished to little more than a distant small speck on the gray wind-tossed sea.
“They won’t get far,” observed Hansson. “The Swedish Navy and Air Force are out there.”
“And so is that incoming storm,” replied Fintväder, pointing to the great mass of very low, threatening clouds rolling in over the sea. And the wind is picking up too. We’re in for a bit of a gale.”
“About these three fellows …”, interrupted the Captain in charge of the Swedish commandos. He had come up behind the two policeman. “It’s my understanding that the Police back in Uppsala would like to have them arrested and detained?”
“Yeah, do that, please,” responded Hansson. “We’ll be taking them back with us on the police launch … soon as the weather clears, that is. In the meantime let’s hold them in the cabin.”
“Right. Thought you’d also like to know that your man, Palmgren … the one who took a bullet in the shoulder … is going to be okay. Medic says the wound is superficial.”
“Thank goodness for that!” said Fintväder solemnly.
“One other thing … what do you want done with the two corpses? … couple of nasty customers from the looks of them.”
“We’ll be taking those two back with us too,” replied Fintväder, wrinkling his nose in distaste.
**********************
Office of Chief Inspector (Kriminalkommissarie) Lennart Björklund, Police Authority (Polismyndigheten) Headquarters, Svartbäcksgatan 49, Uppsala, Sweden, Monday, May 16th, 11:55.
“Are you having any success with cutting off their escape?” asked the Chief anxiously of the Captain of the Visby.
“Negative,” came the reply. “The damned thing is fast, and our radar won’t lock onto it. We’re also up against an incoming squall line that’s almost sure to swallow them up, and will force us to slow down.”
“Damn! And how about the Air Force?”
“Negative again. Low clouds and bad weather. Everything is grounded. Nothing possible there.”
The Chief was about to say something further … most probably one of his choice expletives, when he was distracted by the desk sergeant who was waving at him from outside the open office doorway.
“Yes, what is it?” demanded the Chief crossly.
“Sorry to disturb, Chief, but there’s a video call for you. Someone who claims he needs to speak with you urgently. Says he’s with the Syndicate.”
“Damn! Patch him in immediately.”
“A minute or two later, an image appeared on the wall screen … an image of a logo featuring a solid black disc against a dark red background with the words ‘SYNDICATE’ emblazoned across it in white. From the speakers came a metallic voice.
“Good morning, Inspector Björklund … I should almost say good afternoon as it’s nearly noon in Uppsala.”
“Who are you, where are you, and what do you want?”
“You needn’t know anything about who and where. and there is no way you can find out. I see you have the American CIA man, Barton there with you. Tell him not to try. It’s truly impossible to trace this transmission.”
“Then what do you want?”
“Just a friendly little chat, Björklund. I know that Senator Moore and his slutty assistant, Ms Merriweather, are there with you as well.”
“Alright, alright. You’ve made your point. You’re all powerful and have tabs on everything and everyone,” intervened the Senator, taking charge of the proceedings. “What do you want to chat about?”
“Ahhh, got your attention, have I? Good. Just a friendly update. The Syndicate has heard from its operatives. I’m informed that your daughter, Barbara, is in our hands. She was removed from the island where our Swedish client was holding her, and is being sped as we speak to a secret location from which she can be extracted from the region. My operative tells me that she is unharmed save for the ill effects of a brutal whipping … videos of which will be sent to you in good time. I’m sure you will find them quite entertaining. She writhes and screams so sexily under the lash. My operative tells me it’s really quite a spectacle.”
“You bastards! You know by now that I will not accede to your demands, not even for my daughter. And as I told you earlier, you haven’t much chance of extricating her from the region. The authorities have been very thorough.”
“I doubt they can stop us, Senator. It should be child’s play. We can bide our time. The Syndicate is everywhere, as you well know. We can stash her in places where the authorities can be paid off or may even be sympathetic … as in St. Petersburg and Kaliningrad, for instance … but in any of the Baltic countries, really. As I said, we’re literally everywhere.”
“Well, we’ll see. But, tell me. What exactly do you plan to do with her if you do manage to get her out?”
“That’s already been worked out, Senator. A certain well-known gentleman in Pyongyang has agreed to purchase her, and add her to his select stable of Western female sex slaves. He’s agreed to take the Swedish policewoman, Gun Thorell, too. He tells us that he’s hoping your upcoming run for the U.S. Presidency will be successful, as he intends to use your daughter’s freedom as a secret behind-the-scenes diplomatic bargaining chip when the time is right. Think about that, Senator.”
“My country would never accede to such a bargain!”
“It would if there was to be a show trial and public execution. Your daughter is quite outspoken about regimes such as Kim’s. And no telling what she might reveal under a thorough interrogation … Pyongyang-style. Like I said, think about it Senator. Good bye for now.”
And the screen went blank.
*************************
At sea, in the hold of the Barracuda stealth craft, Monday, May 16, 12:08.
Buffeted by the bouncing craft as it bucked the swells racing headlong into the wind, Barbara and Gun were thrown together again and again. and forced in the direction of the craft’s stern until their bodies came to rest against the back panel of the rectangularly-shaped hold into which they had been dumped. There was no light. They were in total darkness, and very cold. There was only the warmth of their naked bodies.
Tossed together again by a particularly big jolt, Barbara landed in such away that her bound hands were pressed into Gun’s face. Gun grunted and kneed her gently and insistently, while pushing her face into Barbara’s hands.
She got the message, and fumbled to get her fingertips under the edge of the tape over the police woman’s mouth, which she then managed to pull loose before the bow of the craft slammed into another wave and threw her aside.
“Bra gjort!” cried Gun in Swedish, before switching to English. “Well done! Now let’s try to get ourselves back-to-back and see if you can free my hands.”
Barbara nodded and tried to comply. It took three attempts, the bouncing of the boat defeating the first two. But she managed to get into position long enough on a third attempt to loosen the cords around Gun’s wrists. And Gun, in time, managed the rest … after which she untied her ankles and turned to freeing Barbara.
“Now what?” cried Barbara, rubbing her chafed wrists. She wasn’t in the best of shape for heroics. She was stiff and sore, and her whipped backside still smarted like wildfire. But at that point she was eager for anything … come what may.”
“We have to be clever,” warned Gun, raising her voice enough to be heard over the roar of the engine. “These guys are armed and ruthless. We’re naked and have few options. We’ll need surprise and confusion on our side … I’m feeling around on the backside of this box we’re in right now, and there seems to be a hatch door. I’m guessing it leads to the boat’s engine compartment. If we can get the hatch open and wiggle through, perhaps we can find a way to cut the engine … and that could be just the element of surprise and confusion we need.”
TBC
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Well written chapter Barb
