She could very well be the person who directs the Barbro team, Modin thought. Aloud he said: “So we have links to the Swedish Foreign Ministry here?”
“You think they are involved?”
“Oh, absolutely.”
“I’m afraid, I don’t understand,” Kim said and lowered her head.
“Many of the staff members at the Foreign Ministry in Washington are secret service operatives. There are even links to Stay Behind, which is a secret organization supported by NATO. There are direct links to the CIA.”
“And you think Jonas worked for this organization?”
“You know that Anker Turner, the former Defense Minister, used to be the Swedish Ambassador at our Washington embassy.”
“No I didn’t know that,” Kim said, smiling. “And I’m not sure I know why that matters.”
“The Swedish Ambassador in Washington makes good contacts to the White House, and then, once he’s part of the Swedish cabinet as Defense Minister, he does the bidding for the Americans,” Modin said in a low voice as if he was thinking aloud. “Could be,” Modin continued. “I certainly think that all of this has to do with your husband’s death. I am worried that you are in danger, too. I fear you know too much. You may need protection, Kim.”
“Oh, I’d like that, Anton Modin. I’d like to be protected by you.”
Anton got embarrassed. “Well, I meant I’ll have to make sure that you have protection at all time.”
She nodded, then took a large swig of wine, and swallowed hard.
“That’s too bad. I think you might be all the protection I can take.”
CHAPTER 45
GRISSLEHAMN, SUNDAY, JANUARY 3
Modin woke up as the garbage truck’s abruptly put on the brakes outside his house on the driveway. He looked at his watch. It was eight in the morning. He turned over gently and saw the beauty next to him. She was still sleeping. The covers had slipped down to her thighs. She was lying on her side. He carefully pulled up over her shoulders. It was cold in the room. The fire in the hearth from the night before had faded long ago. Modin was happy and not a bit hung over on the one bottle of white they had shared. They had talked until well into the night, then relocated up to the bedroom and made love under the covers.
He went down to the kitchen to prepare breakfast.
Modin felt liberated by the long conversation. About Estonia, about his family, his father, mother, and grandmother. Now he had even more of a reason to cross the Baltic Sea and visit Estonia. And find the truth about the M/S Estonia ferry. The answers to his questions were across the sea, he was certain of it.
Standing by the window in his worn slippers and bathrobe, he looked out across the Sea of Åland. He thought about the woman who had written him the letter from Estonia.
“Good morning Anton,” Kim’s voice interrupted his thoughts. She came into the kitchen and hugged him with gentle energy. He turned around and kissed her.
CHAPTER 46
STOCKHOLM, MONDAY, JANUARY 4
Modin bought two one-way tickets in cash at the Free Port in Stockholm. He didn’t have to identify himself, which was convenient, as he intended leaving the country unnoticed and without leaving a trace. He had booked a luxury cabin, or rather, he had bought what the ferry to Estonia considered luxury—the rough equivalent of a standard room at a four-star hotel in the boonies.
This would be the first time he’d take a ferry to Estonia since the fateful journey in 1994.
When he turned around after obtaining the tickets, he saw Kim sitting on a white plastic bench between two gray-haired pensioners, presumably from the outskirts of Tallinn, who had been in Sweden to do some shopping.
Kim was smiling at him. He was still unsure whether he was right to take her along. But she wanted to come. Didn’t want to be alone in Stockholm, and a trip to Estonia wasn’t far.
The ship sailed and they looked out over the bridge to Lidingö; the channel had frozen over. Only narrow strips of open sea could be seen, and the ferry made its way into one of the larger ones. They’d get to the Stockholm Archipelago and the Söderarm Lighthouse a couple of hours later.
“Come on, let’s go inside. I’m freezing.”
“Yes, it really is cold. But it’s not likely any storm is brewing. Tonight will be a quiet night. Not like the night the M/S Estonia went under.” He carefully took her hand and looked at her.
Nothing to worry about.
After their meal, they entered the piano bar. A young Estonian woman was playing Billy Joel songs, alternating with tunes by Elton John. She seemed nice and innocent, and gifted. If some greedy manager would make a pass at her, all would be lost. Her talent rested in her innocence.
“Shall we dance, man of mine?” Kim had downed a gin and tonic; her eyes were slightly glazed.
They went over to the empty dance floor. He had not danced since the night before the Estonia disaster. Was he ready? It seemed fitting to dance here, on the ferry, now, on his way to discovering the truth. He was ready.
They clutched each other tightly.
The DJ was playing Elton John’s song dedicated to Princess Diana: “Goodbye, England’s Rose.”
Kim rested her cheek on Modin’s shoulder and he stared at the bar at the narrow end of the dance floor. Hundreds of bottles stood in front of a mirrored wall. He felt great. I don’t care a fuck if the ferry sinks, he thought. This is the perfect way to die.
At about midnight, they were passing the Söderarm Lighthouse on course toward the open seas. In a few hours, they would be entering the Bermuda Triangle of the Baltic Sea: the area to the south of the Finnish island of Utö. That was where the sea was widest and deepest—and where, fifteen years earlier, the ferry had sunk.
Modin felt nothing. He was on his way someplace else.
CHAPTER 47
TALLINN, ESTONIA, TUESDAY, JANUARY 5
The ferry will be docking in five minutes. All vehicle owners are requested to immediately make their way to the car deck!”
The announcement of the loudspeakers in broken Swedish spread anxiety aboard. That, at least, was how Modin interpreted it. He jumped out of his bunk and cautiously opened the door to his cabin. He peeked out and saw a trolley all loaded up with breakfast; a few plates with tin lids over them and a large pot of coffee. A little further down the hall, an angry-looking cleaner was staring at him. He quickly dragged the trolley into the cabin and closed the door again before she had time to say anything. Then he jammed the door handle with his roller case.
“Come on, Kim. Wake up. The Estonians are coming!”
“What?”
“Do you want to have breakfast? That’s what we’ve paid for.”
Kim looked up, drowsy. She didn’t understand a thing.
They had breakfast in silence. Modin wanted to debark the ship as soon as possible, but Kim was hungry.
The night before, with a few drinks under his belt, he had been able to handle the voyage, and even enjoy it. Now that he was facing an ice cold gray morning and an epic hangover, the Estonia-bound ferry gave him claustrophobia. They had been on board for too long. The smells, the buzz of conversation, and the rush outside their cabin engulfed him like a black bag over his head.
They showered, got dressed, and packed up their belongings in two roller cases. Once down in the harbor, they took a taxi to the Hotel Tallinn. They checked into the suite at the top of the building. It was a new hotel, but did not seem at all modern. In fact, there was something utterly unmodern about the entire town of Tallinn, which was now the Estonian capital. Even the newly developed areas seemed like a bad imitation of an old-fashioned small American city with a large shopping mall and glass-facades covering the full front of buildings. Everyone was inexperienced in these first years of independence, even the city zoning authorities, which was plain for all to see. They had pushed ahead a bit too fast and the architecture had not caught up with progress elsewhere. In less than twenty years, Tallinn had been converted from a gray smallish Commu
nist town with an even smaller historic center into an international business hub. Property prices had shot up and wealth had spread even to ordinary people. Now, only some twenty percent of the population of Estonia were living below the poverty level. Of course, in Sweden, the percentage was far lower, hovering at only five percent, but in neighboring Latvia, fifty percent of the population was poor. Things were going well for Estonia. Even the living standards of the Russian minority had improved after the Russian Duma in Moscow had taken its protective hand away in 1992. At the time, Russians suddenly had to fend for themselves, and many ended up in poverty. Some moved to Russia, but most just stayed. Those who learned the Estonian language became winners in the new country. They became bridge-builders between what had been the old Soviet Estonia and the new Euro-Estonia. They lived in the best of both worlds, because they knew both languages and understood both cultures. Some also accepted money from the KGB to infiltrate the country. The idea had been to make sure that Estonia won’t become a satellite for the United States, but that didn’t work well. The Estonian-Russians loved the U.S., let development take its natural course during the Yeltsin era, and became rich instead.
Most of the wealthy in Estonia were ethnic Russians even today. They lived in Tallinn and surroundings, preferably near the sea, in large luxury villas with garages full of cars and bodyguards on the payroll. They bought their place in the country with the money obtained by selling off old Soviet factories and other real estate, raw materials, and military equipment. After the Soviet Union collapsed, such deals could provide a lot of wealth, and they took care of business. Weapons, which were usually shipped to developing countries, were a particularly lucrative product.
Encouraged by Moscow, the Russians began to gain influence in Estonia by the force of money instead of military. Estonians who had a positive attitude toward Moscow enjoyed the greatest amount of progress, at least in those first few years. This development was similar to the development in Sweden during the 1970s and 1980s. Back then, those who had good relations with American companies reaped the benefits and made material progress. Things had changed since. Once Estonia, Latvia, and Lithuania had been liberated, the Americans moved their investments from Sweden to these Baltic countries, because now they had become the front line against former enemy Russia. American financial power competed with Russian financial muscles, and many were able to make a private fortune in that competition. The Swedish companies who had been abandoned by international investors had to get by with investing money in Russia or China.
We’re world leaders there today, Modin realized, but how long before the bubble bursts?
Modin was sitting in an armchair upholstered in cloth and had grabbed a beer from the minibar. Kim had gone off to the spa for a massage. Estonia is a nice place for those who have money, Modin thought.
Estonia was much more expensive now than in 1994, when he’d been here with his family. He had brought large amounts of cash this time—some ten thousand Euros, worth around 13,000 dollars—because everything had to be paid for in cash, so that the Estonian Security Service could not track their travels.
CHAPTER 48
TALLINN, TUESDAY, JANUARY 5
Kim hired a car at the reception. A Chevrolet Trailblazer, the most expensive car they had. She added a GPS.
Lots of snow had fallen in and around Tallinn and they were going to be driving out into the countryside. An SUV would come in handy.
Kim handed Modin the car keys before he went to the bar in the lobby. He ordered a Bloody Mary and sat down on one of the light brown leather couches. He unfolded a large map, which he produced from his black shoulder bag.
The drink was delicious, and he noted without emotion that he had been drinking rather uncontrollably since they had boarded the ferry to Estonia.
He studied the map in detail, then spread it out over the whole coffee table. This map covered Estonia and nearby areas of Russia: Tallinn to the northwest, Narva to the northeast, the tourist destination Pärnu along the long stretch of sandy beaches to the southwest, and the university city of Tartu in the southeast. That’s where Modin’s father went to school. Tartu was not all that far from Vahtseliina, one of the stops on this journey.
But there were many more personal reasons for this road trip.
He pulled his shoulder bag closer and took out a book that described research projects in the Baltic countries during the 1990s. Looking at each year, Modin surveyed projects concerning nuclear facilities. The most famous was the submarine base and training facility at Paldiski. There were also less well-known smaller mobile nuclear weapons facilities, which had been hidden in small camouflaged hangars in the Estonian forest during the 1980s. The warheads were hidden under a roof so that they would remain invisible to U.S. satellites and could be ready for use in less than thirty minutes, ready to fire at European cities.
The missiles in Estonia were, for instance, aimed at Swedish Defense Headquarters, at the Muskö underground naval base in the south of the Stockholm archipelago, and at the southern Sweden naval facility in Karlskrona. These small mobile facilities could be controlled via portable telephones that could be taken into the sauna or the bedroom if needed. This was the Soviet primary line of defense against a first strike by NATO. In the book Modin had with him, various Soviet officers reported with confidence that they could fire a first strike before NATO bombers struck. The book did not mention that NATO nuclear arms were in Swedish waters nearby, on board British and American attack submarines. Did the Russians know about these? Modin wondered.
Modin did not know where the Soviet missiles had vanished as the Cold War ended. One of his tasks when he came here in September 1994 had been to get information about these missiles. Intelligence reports suggested that there was a large cache in Paldiski, and that the Russian military was short of cash. Their careers were at an end and many of the Russian soldiers and sailors could only look forward to pensions that were poorly financed, if at all. The troops stationed in the Baltic countries were last on the list of Russian priorities for financial support. These men had not been paid for several months, and they had to get by as best they could. So, they sold weapons and other military equipment to the highest bidder. It was a Klondyke for military intelligence organizations all over the world, even Sweden. There had never been a better opportunity for obtaining secret Russian material. And so, Modin travelled to Estonia in 1994, with a plastic grocery bag stuffed with dollar bills under his arm.
Time to shop! Modin were supposed to buy what he could. His wish-list from back home was long. It even included a midget submarine from the Paldiski Naval Base.
“Can I have a drink please?”
Kim sat down next to Modin.
The waiter brought a glass of white wine, placed it on the marble coffee table, and left walking backwards, so he would not miss a glimpse of the foreign couple. He likely mistook them for a real American couple—exactly what Modin had wanted. He had insisted that the only language they should use on the trip in public was English, and that they should be dressed in business apparel.
The deception seems to be working, Modin thought. No one but Americans makes such a big impression on Estonians. They are the kings and queens over here. They protect the Estonians from the Russians, guaranteeing their freedom and sovereignty.
And now, Estonia had even joined NATO, which in itself was a sensational development. Who could ever have imagined that a decade ago?
CHAPTER 49
How are you? I mean being back here. How does it feel?” Kim asked, lounging on the low couch.
She seemed to be having a good time at the bar. Modin was glad he had brought her along. The trip would have been that much more difficult without company. He now had a friend on duty, should he have a breakdown or crack up.
“Great. Thanks to you.”
He looked around. He scanned the room for anyone who could possibly be working for Estonian intelligence. The hotel seemed quiet enough.
The be
ginning of January was most the low season in this eastern country. The New Year celebrations were over and a long winter lay ahead. You could get depressed in less dreary circumstances.
“I am not here to enjoy myself. I’m here to investigate the sinking of the M/S Estonia. And I want to make a number of new contacts. Be prepared. We could be under surveillance, so we have to be careful. You too.”
“Investigating the Estonia ferry disaster is still a sensitive matter here?”
“It sure as hell is. And not only for me. Don’t forget that Estonia belongs to NATO today. This city is no doubt crawling with British, German, and American secret agents, not to mention Russian undercover agents. In intelligence terms, Tallinn is what Stockholm or Helsinki used to be. The intelligence community establishes contact with Russia and China right here. This is where the new Iron Curtain runs.”
“But what has the Estonia ferry got to do with NATO? I thought it was the Russian mafia that sank the ship.”
“I don’t know yet. Pretty strange things happened in Tallinn in the early 1990s. I was over here often back then. Both the Prime Minister of Sweden at the time, Carl Bildt, and U.S. President Bill Clinton had assignments over here—secure Estonia for the West, get the newly independent country to be on our side. They were negotiating hard with the Russian authorities, which were not at all happy to leave strategically important military installations here in the Baltic countries. In the summer of 1994, it seemed as if the problem would never be solved. Both sides were resisting. In the end, it was President Yeltsin who cut the Gordian knot. He signed the agreement on troop withdrawals with no strings attached. Estonia could now get a NATO membership and once for all cut its ties with Russia.”
Under Water (Anton Modin Book 3) Page 14
