Page 132 of Lars


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“Don’t look around like that,” Alistair scolded me. “It makes you look suspicious.”

“I was just making sure – ”

“I wouldn’t have met you here if it was unsafe,” he said coldly. “You do your job, I’ll do mine.”

Now that he was my employer, Alistair was starting to turn into a real dick.

“Study the photo,” he ordered. “I’m going to need it back when I leave.”

As I stared into the eyes of the man I was going to kill, I asked, “What did he do?”

“He’s the CEO of a company that makes munitions for NATO. Because of that, he’s privy to some rather sensitive information – which he gave to the Chinese after they blackmailed him over his 20-year-old mistress, who’s on their payroll. Rather than lose half his fortune in a divorce, Solner decided to commit treason.”

That sounded like a good enough reason to kill somebody.

“I’m going to need a gun,” I said.

“A .300 Win Mag with a suppressor and Bushnell scope will be in the vehicle. There will also be a suppressed Glock 22 for any close-up work.”

I raised my eyebrows. Everything Alistair had mentioned was top-flight quality.

“I’ll need to shoot the rifle a couple times to adjust the scope to my liking,” I said.

“Kirkenes is extremely remote. Just drive 10 miles in any direction and have at it.”

“What do I do with everything after I finish?”

“Just put them back in the car. Our agent will take care of it when you drop off the car.”

I picked up the cell phone. The screen was locked.

“What’s the password?” I asked.

“546237. The phone pad numbers for Kinberg, just without the ‘G’.”

I entered the password and opened the phone. There were only a few apps installed, including Google Maps.

I checked the contact list. There was only one number programmed in.

“Do NOT contact Rachel on that phone,” Alistair warned me. “In fact, don’t make any calls unless it’s to that number. Memorize it just in case you lose the phone, and call it when you’re done or if you get in trouble.”

“How’s cellular reception in Kirkenes?”

“The phone has satellite connectivity. It’ll work even out in the middle of nowhere. All the other pertinent information – your tickets, hotel, and itinerary – are in that packet. Memorize and destroy everything but your tickets and hotel reservations. Your flight is tomorrow evening. You’ll have to spend the night in Oslo and catch a morning flight to Kirkenes.” Alistair cleared his throat. “I know we discussed this already, but it bears repeating: if you get caught – by the Norwegians or Solner’s men – you cannot rely on us. You cannot call Rachel, your friends, or anyone you know. You cannot contact the Swedish or the British embassy. You’ll have to deal with the mess yourself. Do you understand?”

“What if I’m wounded?”

“If you get hurt but are otherwise uncompromised, call the number in the phone. They’ll arrange extraction.” Alistair stared me dead in the eyes. “Do you understand?”

“Yes.”

“Good. I need the photograph back.”

I handed it to him and he tucked it inside his jacket.

“What about renting a place to live here in London?” I asked.

“Don’t worry about that until you get back. In fact, keep things as they are for at least a month. I might be able to arrange a flat for you under a shell company.”

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