Game: A Thriller Read Free Page B

the back entrance to the Gallery shopping mall. Our uniformed colleagues in the regular force stopped the subway, but before they managed to get hold of someone in charge and the order was actually given, at least four different subway trains left Stockholm Central, and one from Kungsträdgården nearby, so if they were stupid enough not to just melt into the crowds around Sergel’s Square there were plenty of opportunities for them to get away on the subway.”
    Runeberg shrugged in resignation.
    “One advantage of doing this sort of thing in broad daylight in the middle of the city is that it’s a lot easier than most people think to get away,” he concluded.
    “While you were cleaning yourself up I had a quick chat with your driver, Mr. Göransson. He claims that you told him to go ahead of you to the foreign ministry and wait there,which was why you had no escape route,” Runeberg went on in a businesslike voice. Rebecca jerked in her chair.
    Not only had Bengt disobeyed her orders and put her and her charge in danger, now the fat little bastard was lying to save his own skin. Trying to blame her for everything, what fucking nerve! If he’d done his job and the car had been where it should have been, she would have been fine; she could have managed perfectly well without backup.
    She opened her mouth to protest, but her boss raised a hand to stop her.
    “Take it easy, Normén. You don’t have to say anything, I know the bastard’s lying. In the ten months that you’ve been with us, no one’s been more by-the-book than you. You don’t do anything without considering it from every angle, and your colleagues have nothing but praise for your efforts. The other day one of them said you were one hundred ten percent professional, and I wouldn’t disagree with that assessment. You’re a pretty good bodyguard, Normén. For a rookie, anyway . . .” He grinned. “Besides, Göransson is a hopeless liar. He was sweating like a pig and was almost in tears at the end of our little talk. So, since approximately an hour ago, his services have been at the disposal of the job market. I don’t give a shit what the union says. I threw him out of the back door myself,” Runeberg concluded with a smile, nodding happily at Rebecca to confirm that he had done precisely what he said.
    Little boys, she sighed inwardly before realizing that he had actually praised her work, so she opted to lower her eyes respectfully to underline her status as grateful subordinate. As usual in this sort of system, you had to make the best of things and not make a fuss.
    The fact that the guard on the door had had to help still annoyed her, but Runeberg had just called her a good bodyguard, which wasn’t bad for a rookie with less than a year’s experience.
    Not bad at all!
    ♦  ♦  ♦
    HP counted to ten in his head and glanced at the platform one last time before stepping up to the man in the coat. The man looked up at him in surprise from the newspaper he had just pulled out of his pocket.
    “Tell Mange he’s still a carpet-licking bastard!” HP shouted into the man’s ear, as he snatched the umbrella from the paper bag and, just as the doors were beginning to close, he leaped out onto the platform. He landed so hard that he almost lost his balance and had to take a couple of lurching steps to stop himself falling flat on his face.
    Fuck me! he thought as he sprinted toward the steps at the far end of the platform. It wasn’t quite the stylish exit he had planned, but what the hell. He had the umbrella, the task was accomplished, and none of the nightmare scenarios he’d been imagining had come true. The umbrella had been no problem, no explosions, no cascade of water, and no grinning TV presenters telling him he’d just been caught on You’ve Been Framed, Candid Camera, or some similarly classy program.
    Apart from the stumble as he left the train, everything had gone according to plan and he could relax and enjoy the