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“Why make an exception for me?”
“Because a man with your experience would be extraordinarily useful to us.”
I frowned. “Where would I be doing this job? I’m assuming not behind a desk.”
“Heavens, no. Your duties would take you all over the world, although primarily Europe and Eurasia. Maybe the occasional job in North Africa.”
“Look – I’ve got to tell you right now, if you ever ask me to do something that goes against the Swedish military or government, then – ”
“Not at all. We take our relationship with our allies very seriously. We would never do anything to compromise Sweden’s government or military. On that, you have my word.”
“What would the job involve?”
“Basically what you do for SOG. In a more… focused capacity.”
“Military operations?”
“Of a sort.”
“What sort of military operations?” I asked, disliking his vagueness.
“Your primary job would be to remove certain ‘bad actors’ from the theater of operations.”
Assassinations.
I looked at Alistair in silence. He just gazed back at me calmly.
“So you want me to kill people,” I finally said.
“You kill people now. Or you did in Afghanistan, anyway.”
“I killed Taliban – terrorists – ”
“You killed whomever Sweden and NATO told you to kill,” Alistair pointed out. “All that would change is that MI6 will tell you who to target. All to the benefit of Sweden and NATO, I might add.”
In reality, it wasn’t the killing that bothered me. I was a member of Special Forces and a sniper. I had killed dozens of men during my time in the military. Looking through a scope and pulling the trigger was my job.
It was more who I would be killing that gave me pause.
“What kind of ‘bad actors’?” I asked.
“Those acting against the best interests of NATO and Britain. Terrorists… rogue arms dealers… leaders of organized crime… people like that.”
Alistair could tell I still wasn’t entirely sold, so he continued:
“Think of it this way: you can be deployed back to Afghanistan and target a bunch of low-level combatants who are basically just cannon fodder… or you can go after the people at the top, the ones who fund the terrorism and give the orders for the atrocities. The ones who profit from the death and chaos they sow. This job would allow you to lop off the dragon’s head instead of trying to kill it with a thousand cuts.”
I had to admit that was appealing. Back in Afghanistan, I’d always felt I was just killing grunts who would be replaced by someone else the next day. Except for the time Rachel came to Bagram and we took out Massoud, we never bagged a big target. Nothing ever seemed to change. Or at least nothing that mattered to the big picture. We were just treading water until the day that NATO or the US decided it wasn’t worth their while to stick around anymore.
The frustration was immense. You felt like you were punching a clock on a job that might kill you, and yet nothing you did would ever make a difference. The only thing you cared about was making sure you and your buddies came back home.
Speaking of which…
“Would I be on a team?” I asked.
“No. You would be a one-man operation reporting directly to me. You’ll probably interface with other operatives in the field – receiving support from them so you can complete your mission. But otherwise, you’d be a lone wolf.”
“And you think you could get me out of my military service?”
