Nordic Peril: The Sequel to Gone Missing in Sweden

[Loxuru]

I read the shootout three times. Did I miss or overlook something? The Syndicate team consisted of a chief, and two members, guided by Skagman. The latter is on the run, the team chief got shot by him. Another team member was killed by Gun.
Is there still one Syndicate team member around?
Or am I reading thinking ahead again?

 

[Barbaria1]

I read the shootout three times. Did I miss or overlook something? The Syndicate team consisted of a chief, and two members, guided by Skagman. The latter is on the run, the team chief got shot by him. Another team member was killed by Gun.
Is there still one Syndicate team member around?
Or am I reading thinking ahead again?

All three are dead. One was shot by Gun. A second was picked off by Johnson, and the leader was killed by Skogman.

 

[montycrusto]

All three are dead. One was shot by Gun. A second was picked off by Johnson, and the leader was killed by Skogman.

All three of the goons have been killed:
One Skogmanned, one Gunned and one Billed.
With poor old Gun shot
(Will she die? Let’s hope not!)
With drama this Barb-Noir is filled.

 

[Barbaria1]

Monty sums it all up so plain
In such clear poetic refrain
Everyone now has it in their head
That the Syndicate team’ all dead
No need to explain it all again

 

[montycrusto]

Monty sums it all up so plain
In such clear poetic refrain
Everyone now has it in their head
That the Syndicate team’ all dead
No need to explain it all again

I carefully sum up the plot
And I do it in verse ‘cos why not.
The limerick form
Always goes down a storm,
Yes, even with this hopeless lot!

 

[Loxuru]

All three are dead. One was shot by Gun. A second was picked off by Johnson, and the leader was killed by Skogman.

Thanks, I must have missed that kill by Johnson. Found it meanwhile.
Otherwise, peril would still have swarmed around the house!

 

[Barbaria1]

Chapter 28. On board a Swedish Air Force HKP 9 Messerschmitt Bölkow-Blom helicopter, near the country home of Åke Persson, Thursday, 22 January, 10:39.

Bulldozer Olsson gaped open-mouthed at the scene below as the helicopter hovered over the rooftop of a vehicle, half-buried in snow near the front entrance of Persson’s house. The pilot was holding the machine stationary over the car while the two SÄPO men Bulldozer had brought along on the mission worked at lowering the tackle needed to lift the woman lying on a stretcher fashioned from what appeared to be a door removed from its hinges.

The woman was half-naked, wearing nothing from the waist up except a swath of blood-soaked bandaging over her right shoulder. Her face was pale and contorted in pain.

From his vantage point Bulldozer recognized the upturned and anxious-looking face of Bertil Hansson kneeling beside the woman on the roof of the snowbound vehicle. And that of Chief Lennart Björklund, standing on the running board of one of the vehicle’s open doors and gripping one of the wounded woman’s hands in a concerned gesture of support.

Gathered around the vehicle were a number of others. Two unidentified men, whom Bulldozer assumed to be Pecos Bill Johnson and Ake Persson. And four women … one of them Asian and presumably the North Korean defector … and three others, who were unknown to him.

The face of one of three was partially concealed by her long brown hair, which the down draft of the helicopter’s blades kept blowing across it. Her body language, though, suggested that she was quite distraught over the plight of the wounded woman. She was repeatedly moving her open hand to her mouth.

The second was blond, and to his amazement and puzzlement: naked above the waist. Even more to his astonishment, she appeared to have been recently whipped judging from the markings visible on both her bared back and chest.

In his hand, he was receiving instructions on his phone from the third woman, whom he did not know. She had called him on Bertil Hansson’s phone and identified herself only as ‘Annika’. But she seemed to know what she was doing and, despite her apparent youth, spoke with a commanding air of authority.

“Now listen carefully,” she instructed, treating him as though he were a distracted school lad. “The woman you are about to load on board is Detective Sergeant Gun Thorell of the Uppsala Police Authority. She’s been shot, has lost a lot of blood, and needs immediate emergency care. I’ve checked and learned that the nearest Level 1 trauma center is Norrlands universitetssjukhus in Umeå. I’ve already alerted them to your pending arrival. All you have to do is get her there fast! Air time to Umeå shouldn’t be much more than twenty minutes.”



“What about the threat here on the ground?” he replied. “My men and I are fully armed professionals. Surely you need protection!”

“No need for that. We have the situation well in hand.”

“But we are SÄPO. In fact, young lady, you may not know it but you are speaking to Ragnar Olsson, the Chief of SÄPO. Internal security is our business. Allow me to take charge.”

“I don’t care if you’re the man in the moon. Shut up and do as I say!”

************************

Communications room, Syndicate headquarters, undisclosed location somewhere in China. Thursday, 22 January, 17:14 (11:14 Swedish time).

“It appears something may have gone wrong. We should have heard from our team in Skellefteå fourteen minutes ago. But there’s been no signal.”



“Perhaps they’re too engaged to report in?”

“Negative. Even if that were the case, the transponders they carry would report independently. Something has likely happened to them. My guess is that they are dead and someone who knows his stuff has rendered their equipment inoperable.”

“Who was it that our spy embedded in the Persson household reported to be the bodyguard for Colonel Chang?”

“I believe she identified him as “Pecos Bill Johnson … strange name.”

“No, there’s your answer. We know of him. He’s a pro and would be savvy enough to search for and silence all of their transponders.”

“But what about our embedded spy? She also has a transponder.”

“I suspect the answer to that again is Pecos Bill. She’s probably dead or in custody … unless …”

“Unless what?”

“Unless they turned her and she’s working for them and disabled her transponder.”

“Impossible!”

“Is it? She’s a woman!”

“Ohhh ….”

“Okay. I’ll report to the higher-ups. Keep a vigil until I get back. If the worst has happened, there will be hell to pay. This will not go down well!”

TBC

 

[Loxuru]

“No need for that. We have the situation well in hand.”

Really!? There is still one enemy around, and they know it! They have no idea what his intentions are!

 

[Loinclothslave]

Really!? There is still one enemy around, and they know it! They have no idea what his intentions are!

Potentially 2 if you include Marina

 

[Loxuru]

Potentially 2 if you include Marina

Good thinking!

We also wish to report that our mole within the Swedish Security Service, known as SÄPO, informs us that the Swedes have been alerted to a possible situation in Sollefteå, and that steps have been taken to be sure that any attempt by SÄPO to intervene will never get off the ground.

From Chapter 20! A mole within SÄPO! So, still three threats, in fact!

 

[Fossy]

“I don’t care if you’re the man in the moon. Shut up and do as I say!”

Who actually is this girl! She's so damn good in fact I'm beginning to get an uneasy feeling about her ... or maybe that's just me anticipating one of Barb's signature twists and turns ...

“Unless they turned her and she’s working for them and disabled her transponder.”

Spot on my friend!

“Okay. I’ll report to the higher-ups. Keep a vigil until I get back. If the worst has happened, there will be hell to pay. This will not go down well!”

And with Skogman still on the loose, hell could still very much be paid ...

Excellent stuff as always Barb ...

 

[twonines]

Gun`s alpha-female spot
Is threatened by Annika, who`s hot.
Can this be proper?
Can anyone stop her?
And does she want it or not?

 

[old slave]

“I don’t care if you’re the man in the moon. Shut up and do as I say!”

Oh Annika! I fear SÄPO might just think you are now a threat to national security. And bring you in for 'questioning'.

 

[Loxuru]

Oh Annika! I fear SÄPO might just think you are now a threat to national security. And bring you in for 'questioning'.

I rather think, Bulldozer should start fearing for his job!

 

[Fossy]

Oh Annika! I fear SÄPO might just think you are now a threat to national security. And bring you in for 'questioning'.

We can but hope 'old one' ...

 

[Barbaria1]

Chapter 29. “Picnic Bar” restaurant, Radisson Blu Hotel, Stationsgata 4, Uppsala, Sweden. Saturday, 31 January 22:40.



“A toast … I’d like to make a toast!” declared Chief Inspector Lennart Björklund, rising unsteadily to his feet and holding his glass of akvavit in front of his chest, “… a toast to our brave colleague and dear friend, Detective Sergeant Gun Thorell, now fully recovered and returned to us by her able medical team at Norrlands universitetssjukhus in Umeå. May she never ever go off again on any wild adventures without informing us beforehand. Skål!”

Having risen to their feet, everyone around the table looked, in turn, directly and solemnly at each of the others, shouted “Skål!”
and drained their glasses in unison.

That was just one of many celebratory toasts offered that evening by eight re-united survivors of that dreadful ordeal in Sollefteå … Chief Björklund, Bertil Hansson, Pecos Bill Johnson, Barbara Moore, Gun Thorell, Chang Min-Ji, Marina Pavlova, and the young and able Annika Sjöberg. Only Åke Persson was missing from the festive gathering, having important affairs to attend to in Geneva.

“Oh look!” cried Barbara, pointing unsteadily at the large-screen TV display mounted on a restaurant wall. “It’s B … Bull … Bullshit Olsson. He’s doing an intershoe … I mean interview. We can’t muss .. uh … miss this! Someone turn up the fucking volume!”

“She’s stinking drunk,” confided Hanson to the Chief as everyone turned to view the wall screen.

“Yeah, totally pissed … she should have stuck to her Riesling … another ten minutes and our Barb’ll be out cold, face-down on the table,” joked Bill Johnson on overhearing Hansson’s remark.

“I have with me tonight as our last guest,” intoned the television host of a popular late night news magazine hour, “Chief Ragnar Olsson, Head of SÄPO. He’s here to tell us of the incredibly mysterious happenings that took place up in Norrland not far from Sollefteå during last week’s winter storm. I know this is undoubtedly a hush-hush affair involving the Swedish security services, Chief Olsson, but there have been reports of the most extraordinary of happenings. What can you tell our viewers?”

“Well first, Agneta, thanks for having me on the show, and please call me ‘Bulldozer’. Everyone does.”

“Oh, of course, Bulldozer it is. Now tell us!”

“You’re correct. There were some quite extraordinary events that took place last week near Sollefteå. And the first thing to say is that there’s no danger to the public. SÄPO was there, responding quickly and efficiently under my direction to bring the situation to a proper and safe conclusion. Unfortunately I cannot for reasons of national … and I might add international … security divulge any of the details.”

“But you and SÄPO handled it well?”

“As we always do, Agneta. Under my leadership, SÄPO is perhaps the very best in the world at what it does.”

“What a bag of hot wind he is,” remarked Annika.

“Not unlike some that we have in North Korea,” remarked Min-Ji.

“Or anywhere,” agreed Hansson.

“But Chief … uh, I mean Bulldozer … there have been rumors … unconfirmed rumors … that the police force in Uppsala was also on the scene and played a major role in quelling whatever happened there. We have it, in fact, from a police officer on the Sollefteå force that, on the very night of the storm, a carload of Uppsala officers passed through his roadblock headed northwest, presumably for some place near Sollefteå.”

“Touché!” shouted Annika gleefully.

“Uhhh … well yes … as it turned out, SÄPO did coordinate efforts with the police in Uppsala. But their role, mind you, was totally under my command and firm direction. As a matter of fact, SÄPO often turns to units of the local constabulary for assistance. That’s quite routine.”

“But Uppsala is nowhere near Sollefteå!”

“True, but they were close at hand, given the proximity of Uppsala to the air base from which our operation was launched.”

“Keep digging Bulldozer!” guffawed the Chief.

“Then why were elements of the Uppsala force observed on the road to Sollefteå the night before?” came the knife-edged follow-up question.

“She’s got him by the balls now!” laughed Hansson gleefully.

“Mmmmhhhhhgh,” said Barbara, suddenly collapsing into Marina’s arms, mouth open, totally limp, head lolling off to one side.”

“See? What’d I tell you?” smirked Johnson rushing to Marina’s aide and helping her to lower Barbara to the floor.

“Bulldozer! Im waiting for an answer.” prodded Agneta, leaning forward, cocking her head to one side, and gazing meaningfully into the camera.

“Uh … some things … are … uh …. are classified,” he replied lamely. “We mustn’t reveal all our operational tactics to the general public … surely you understand.”

“Not really.”

“Look … I just want to extend a heartfelt thanks to all the brave men and women at SÄPO and, of course, to our police comrades too … whoever or wherever they might be … for so ably responding to my command decisions. It’s always, as they say, lonely at the top. I’m proud to lead these fine men and women.”

“Thank you Bulldozer for appearing on the show.”

“My pleasure.”

“That wraps it up for tonight viewers. Please join me, your host Agneta Karlsson, again next week when our guest will be Kriminalkommissarie Lennart Björklund of the Uppsala Police Authority, who will hopefully be able to shed additional light on what happened last week near Sollefteå.”

“Why you sly old dog!” exclaimed Hansson, gleefully slapping the Chief on the back. “Brilliant move, agreeing to go on that show, not before but after Bulldozer goes on and makes a complete fool of himself.”

“Thanks.”

“Now, if I may intrude on the celebration, perhaps you guys might help Marina and me in getting ‘passed out Barb’ here up to her hotel room.”

“No, there’s no need for that,” interjected Gun hastily. “I think we girls are fully capable of getting Barb up to her room all on our own. You guys just stay down here and enjoy yourselves.”

“You mean you’re not coming back down?” ventured Johnson.

“What do you think?” retorted Hansson with a rueful smirk.

*****************************

A summer cottage, Sandvika, Norway, Sunday, 1 February, 00:12.



Arne Skogman stretched his limbs, rose and ambled his way over to the fireplace in stocking feet to feed fresh logs on the fire. Through the window nearby, he could see in the moonlight the open expanse of the ice-covered lake, known as Innsvatnet, as well as the eerie distant brightness of the snow capping the 2400 meter high peak of Skardsfellet.

After nine days of trekking mostly on skis but at times benefiting from a lift by a local he happened across along the way, Skogman had crossed into Norway. And there he had immediately sought, found and broken into a summer cottage, the welcome warmth of which he was now enjoying. Judging from items left there by its owners when it was closed for the winter season it was owned, like thousands of other border-area mountain cottage retreats, by a family of urbanized Swedes. He therefore knew that he could safely and comfortably take refuge there and least until springtime rolled around.

He also strongly suspected that, for security reasons, the authorities were likely to try to bury what happened near Sollefteå … especially given the Syndicate’s failure to achieve its objectives. With luck, his own role … murky as it must be to the authorities … would be written off as not worth pursuing. And that by springtime he might safely return to Sweden and take up normal life again.

TBC

 

[montycrusto]

Chapter 29. “Picnic Bar” restaurant, Radisson Blu Hotel, Stationsgata 4, Uppsala, Sweden. Saturday, 31 January 22:40.

View attachment 1241074

“A toast … I’d like to make a toast!” declared Chief Inspector Lennart Björklund, rising unsteadily to his feet and holding his glass of akvavit in front of his chest, “… a toast to our brave colleague and dear friend, Detective Sergeant Gun Thorell, now fully recovered and returned to us by her able medical team at Norrlands universitetssjukhus in Umeå. May she never ever go off again on any wild adventures without informing us beforehand. Skål!”

Having risen to their feet, everyone around the table looked, in turn, directly and solemnly at each of the others, shouted “Skål!”
and drained their glasses in unison.

That was just one of many celebratory toasts offered that evening by eight re-united survivors of that dreadful ordeal in Sollefteå … Chief Björklund, Bertil Hansson, Pecos Bill Johnson, Barbara Moore, Gun Thorell, Chang Min-Ji, Marina Pavlova, and the young and able Annika Sjöberg. Only Åke Persson was missing from the festive gathering, having important affairs to attend to in Geneva.

“Oh look!” cried Barbara, pointing unsteadily at the large-screen TV display mounted on a restaurant wall. “It’s B … Bull … Bullshit Olsson. He’s doing an intershoe … I mean interview. We can’t muss .. uh … miss this! Someone turn up the fucking volume!”

“She’s stinking drunk,” confided Hanson to the Chief as everyone turned to view the wall screen.

“Yeah, totally pissed … she should have stuck to her Riesling … another ten minutes and our Barb’ll be out cold, face-down on the table,” joked Bill Johnson on overhearing Hansson’s remark.

“I have with me tonight as our last guest,” intoned the television host of a popular late night news magazine hour, “Chief Ragnar Olsson, Head of SÄPO. He’s here to tell us of the incredibly mysterious happenings that took place up in Norrland not far from Sollefteå during last week’s winter storm. I know this is undoubtedly a hush-hush affair involving the Swedish security services, Chief Olsson, but there have been reports of the most extraordinary of happenings. What can you tell our viewers?”

“Well first, Agneta, thanks for having me on the show, and please call me ‘Bulldozer’. Everyone does.”

“Oh, of course, Bulldozer it is. Now tell us!”

“You’re correct. There were some quite extraordinary events that took place last week near Sollefteå. And the first thing to say is that there’s no danger to the public. SÄPO was there, responding quickly and efficiently under my direction to bring the situation to a proper and safe conclusion. Unfortunately I cannot for reasons of national … and I might add international … security divulge any of the details.”

“But you and SÄPO handled it well?”

“As we always do, Agneta. Under my leadership, SÄPO is perhaps the very best in the world at what it does.”

“What a bag of hot wind he is,” remarked Annika.

“Not unlike some that we have in North Korea,” remarked Min-Ji.

“Or anywhere,” agreed Hansson.

“But Chief … uh, I mean Bulldozer … there have been rumors … unconfirmed rumors … that the police force in Uppsala was also on the scene and played a major role in quelling whatever happened there. We have it, in fact, from a police officer on the Sollefteå force that, on the very night of the storm, a carload of Uppsala officers passed through his roadblock headed northwest, presumably for some place near Sollefteå.”

“Touché!” shouted Annika gleefully.

“Uhhh … well yes … as it turned out, SÄPO did coordinate efforts with the police in Uppsala. But their role, mind you, was totally under my command and firm direction. As a matter of fact, SÄPO often turns to units of the local constabulary for assistance. That’s quite routine.”

“But Uppsala is nowhere near Sollefteå!”

“True, but they were close at hand, given the proximity of Uppsala to the air base from which our operation was launched.”

“Keep digging Bulldozer!” guffawed the Chief.

“Then why were elements of the Uppsala force observed on the road to Sollefteå the night before?” came the knife-edged follow-up question.

“She’s got him by the balls now!” laughed Hansson gleefully.

“Mmmmhhhhhgh,” said Barbara, suddenly collapsing into Marina’s arms, mouth open, totally limp, head lolling off to one side.”

“See? What’d I tell you?” smirked Johnson rushing to Marina’s aide and helping her to lower Barbara to the floor.

“Bulldozer! Im waiting for an answer.” prodded Agneta, leaning forward, cocking her head to one side, and gazing meaningfully into the camera.

“Uh … some things … are … uh …. are classified,” he replied lamely. “We mustn’t reveal all our operational tactics to the general public … surely you understand.”

“Not really.”

“Look … I just want to extend a heartfelt thanks to all the brave men and women at SÄPO and, of course, to our police comrades too … whoever or wherever they might be … for so ably responding to my command decisions. It’s always, as they say, lonely at the top. I’m proud to lead these fine men and women.”

“Thank you Bulldozer for appearing on the show.”

“My pleasure.”

“That wraps it up for tonight viewers. Please join me, your host Agneta Karlsson, again next week when our guest will be Kriminalkommissarie Lennart Björklund of the Uppsala Police Authority, who will hopefully be able to shed additional light on what happened last week near Sollefteå.”

“Why you sly old dog!” exclaimed Hansson, gleefully slapping the Chief on the back. “Brilliant move, agreeing to go on that show, not before but after Bulldozer goes on and makes a complete fool of himself.”

“Thanks.”

“Now, if I may intrude on the celebration, perhaps you guys might help Marina and me in getting ‘passed out Barb’ here up to her hotel room.”

“No, there’s no need for that,” interjected Gun hastily. “I think we girls are fully capable of getting Barb up to her room all on our own. You guys just stay down here and enjoy yourselves.”

“You mean you’re not coming back down?” ventured Johnson.

“What do you think?” retorted Hansson with a rueful smirk.

*****************************

A summer cottage, Sandvika, Norway, Sunday, 1 February, 00:12.

View attachment 1241073

Arne Skogman stretched his limbs, rose and ambled his way over to the fireplace in stocking feet to feed fresh logs on the fire. Through the window nearby, he could see in the moonlight the open expanse of the ice-covered lake, known as Innsvatnet, as well as the eerie distant brightness of the snow capping the 2400 meter high peak of Skardsfellet.

After nine days of trekking mostly on skis but at times benefiting from a lift by a local he happened across along the way, Skogman had crossed into Norway. And there he had immediately sought, found and broken into a summer cottage, the welcome warmth of which he was now enjoying. Judging from items left there by its owners when it was closed for the winter season it was owned, like thousands of other border-area mountain cottage retreats, by a family of urbanized Swedes. He therefore knew that he could safely and comfortably take refuge there and least until springtime rolled around.

He also strongly suspected that, for security reasons, the authorities were likely to try to bury what happened near Sollefteå … especially given the Syndicate’s failure to achieve its objectives. With luck, his own role … murky as it must be to the authorities … would be written off as not worth pursuing. And that by springtime he might safely return to Sweden and take up normal life again.

TBC

Lovely! Was expecting a ceremony where princess Barb would give medals to everyone except Chewbacca but I’m happy we got invited to this boozy piss-up instead.

 

[Loxuru]

Lovely! Was expecting a ceremony where princess Barb would give medals to everyone except Chewbacca but I’m happy we got invited to this boozy piss-up instead.

Of course not! This was 'The Syndicate Strikes Back!'
Coming up :'Return of the Bulldozer'!

“Oh look!” cried Barbara, pointing unsteadily at the large-screen TV display mounted on a restaurant wall. “It’s B … Bull … Bullshit Olsson. He’s doing an intershoe … I mean interview. We can’t muss .. uh … miss this! Someone turn up the fucking volume!”

“She’s stinking drunk,” confided Hanson to the Chief as everyone turned to view the wall screen.

“Yeah, totally pissed … she should have stuck to her Riesling … another ten minutes and our Barb’ll be out cold, face-down on the table,” joked Bill Johnson on overhearing Hansson’s remark.

Before II would unleash my exquisite irony to this scene, I want to be sure that the demerits are disabled!

 

[Fossy]

“Yeah, totally pissed … she should have stuck to her Riesling … another ten minutes and our Barb’ll be out cold, face-down on the table,”

Or up dancing on the tables ... great to see how quickly, after such an ordeal, Barb has returned life to normal!

“Mmmmhhhhhgh,” said Barbara, suddenly collapsing into Marina’s arms, mouth open, totally limp, head lolling off to one side.”

“See? What’d I tell you?” smirked Johnson rushing to Marina’s aide and helping her to lower Barbara to the floor.

Nope, deffo the face-down on the table option ...

This was a far less stressful chapter than recent episodes, and had the feel of the beginnings of the 'wrap' ... or does it?

Less stressful or not, another wonderful piece Barb!

 

[montycrusto]

Of course not! This was 'The Syndicate Strikes Back!'

If that’s the case, then not only would the Syndicate have (temporarily) won, but either Skogman or Kim Jong Un would have turned out to be Barb’s dad. Well there’s still time I suppose..