High Risk

by Simona Ahrnstedt

  “Tom, are you really doing this?” Mattias asked. He sounded concerned.

  “I have to. Would you come?”

  “I’ll come.” Mattias avoided his eye.

  Tom and Mattias attended the meeting at HQ along with five lawyers from the Armed Forces, plus two men in anonymous suits who didn’t introduce themselves and whom Tom suspected belonged to the intelligence service. There were also two witnesses from camp and a large number of high-ranking military men, their chests covered in medals. The commander in chief sat silently and severely behind his oversized desk. Tom wasn’t offered a seat. It was a clear demonstration of power.

  But Mattias was by his side. Tom was sure his friend, his brother-in-arms, his comrade, would back him up.

  After Tom gave his brief, concise report, Mattias got up. He was calm, seemed focused, as he always did.

  And then he drove the knife into Tom’s back.

  “Captain Lexington wasn’t himself even before we left for Afghanistan. He overreacted then, and he’s overreacting now. He hasn’t been himself for a while.”

  Tom thought he must have misheard.

  “We can’t rule out that the perpetrator was armed,” Mattias continued.

  An icy chill spread through Tom. “The perpetrator? There was no fucking perpetrator, it was an unarmed child.”

  “It was dark, it was chaotic. We can’t rule out that he posed a threat.”

  Mattias met Tom’s eye, and Tom couldn’t see a thing in his gaze. It was completely neutral. Not that he knew how a person was meant to look when they betrayed their best friend. Mattias lied, and Tom’s military career was over. He couldn’t stay. He had given them ten years of his life, believed in their ideals and spirit. But now it was over.

  Tom quit the very next day. Left the Armed Forces, never to return.

  That was eight years ago.

  And now Mattias was here, in Kiruna, pretending to be his friend in an attempt to bring him back into the Forces.

  But Tom was done with that; he knew it with certainty. Until yesterday, he thought he was done with Mattias Ceder, too. Now, he wasn’t sure. Part of him wanted to throw the traitor out, tell him to go to hell. But another part remembered their friendship.

  * * *

  “I’m going to buy groceries,” Tom said when Mattias got up just after ten. He skidded up onto the main road and then stepped on the gas until the snow swirled around him. The temperature gauge in the car showed seventeen degrees. For Kiruna, that was practically spring.

  After he made it to the grocery store, he bought bread, cheese, and orange juice, and then his eyes scanned the shelves of paperbacks. It was a long time since he last read a book.

  While he was working abroad, he devoured plenty of books: fiction, nonfiction, and biographies, most things in fact. Reading was a great way to wind down. When you were in a tight situation, the adrenaline would rush through your veins in a way you couldn’t imagine. He had been shot at by everything from terrorists to ordinary criminals, hunted by pirates, preyed upon by carjackers, and he’d fought the Taliban. In situations like that, you needed to be able to function without thinking. Otherwise, you would die—that was the evolution of the battlefield. It was afterward that you felt the reaction, and it could be powerful. Those who didn’t manage to wind down never lasted very long. Tom saw plenty of men go crazy after a battle because they never came down from their adrenaline high. Some soldiers and operatives used sex to relax, others worked out, many drank. But Tom liked to read.

  In school, reading was always torture. He didn’t know why, but everything to do with letters was a nightmare for him. Being forced to read aloud in front of the class, hearing the laughter when he struggled, practicing and practicing and still not keeping up. He felt stupid, and it wasn’t until he began his training to become an officer that things got better. He wanted to graduate so badly, he forced himself to study constantly and one day the letters just started to play ball. It was like his brain managed to forge a new circuit, and everything finally fell into place. Shit if he knew what happened.

  He chose two paperbacks from the bestseller list, paid, and packed up his things. Just as he left the shop, he heard a skidding sound, someone shouting, and then he was knocked to the floor by an enormous creature that appeared from nowhere.

  It was a dog—a huge, shaggy, gray thing—that collided with him. Its withers came up to somewhere on Tom’s thigh. The dog was dragging a leash behind it, and without even thinking, Tom put his foot on the handle just as the dog got ready to run off. It stopped with a jerk, and Tom bent down and quickly grabbed the leash. The dog pulled at it angrily, its ears flat and teeth bared. Tom hesitated. He’d seen far too many people attacked by angry packs of dogs to dismiss the danger. But there were a few kids outside the shop, and so he kept hold of the leash, at arm’s length now, wondering what the hell to do next.

  What kind of idiot kept a dog like this in town? He studied the trembling, bristling monster. It looked more wild than tame. Who even owned a beast like this?

  “Oh, God, thanks,” he heard, and a breathless Ellinor came running toward him.

  She was the last person he was expecting to see.

  “This is your dog?” he asked incredulously.

  “She got loose. She’s not used to me,” Ellinor panted. The animal followed her with its eyes, laid its ears flat against its head, and stared. Not that Tom could read a dog’s body language, but it felt like it was trembling when it pressed itself against his legs. It wasn’t angry, it was scared.

  “What’s it scared of?” he asked.

  Ellinor took off one of her gloves and wiped her forehead. She puffed a little. “Something startled her. I wasn’t ready, and she pulled free. She’s ridiculously strong. Strictly speaking, she’s Nilas’s responsibility.”

  Nilas. The veterinarian. The man Ellinor had inexplicably decided to leave him for. The irresponsible idiot who clearly owned an unpredictable dog and had no problem leaving Ellinor to run around after it.

  Tom stood still, with the leash in his hand and Ellinor’s eyes on his.

  “There you are. I was getting worried!”

  Ellinor turned around.

  Nilas.

  Tom couldn’t even think that awful name without pulling a face.

  Ellinor waved. “Don’t worry, she’s here.”

  Nilas came to a stop. He took off one glove and held out a hand. “You must be Tom,” he said.

  “Must I?” Tom replied, not reciprocating the handshake.

  Ellinor’s eyes narrowed, but Nilas just smiled. “Good of you to grab Freja. I’d best take her. She’s friendly, but dogs can sometimes bite when they’re scared. Come, Freja.”

  Nilas reached for the leash. Freja growled faintly, low in her throat, and Tom studied Nilas with a mean smile. “Funny, she doesn’t seem all that happy to see you. Maybe you’re not so good with animals after all.”

  “We think she was mistreated by her last owner,” Ellinor explained. “Nilas has been taking care of her because she was in such bad shape.” She raised her chin and said: “Nilas is fantastic with animals.”

  “Freja,” Nilas said, patting his thigh encouragingly.

  But Freja continued to tremble against Tom’s leg, and he was already regretting getting involved. He was completely uninterested in the crazy animal. Irritated, he held out the leash; he just wanted the whole thing to be over and done with. But Nilas didn’t take it. Instead, he studied Tom as though he’d just had an idea. Since one of Nilas’s last ideas was to sleep with Tom’s fiancée while Tom himself was in living hell, he was sure he wouldn’t much like this new one.

  “I am actually looking for someone who can keep Freja for a while. We already have two dogs, and they’re so lively they stress her out. She needs peace and quiet.”

  Tom said nothing. It wasn’t his problem.

  Ellinor placed a hand on Nilas’s coat sleeve. “Tom doesn’t like animals,” she said. It wasn’t true; he had no feeling
s either way. Ellinor, on the other hand, loved all animals.

  By now, Freja was no longer trembling against his leg. Instead, she started to scratch herself behind her ear, a huge paw clawing at her thick gray coat with frantic energy. Tom studied her. “What is she, anyway? Devil dog?”

  Nilas put on his glove and stood up straight. “She’s probably a mix. Mostly Irish wolfhound. They end up huge. She’s still a puppy.”

  “A puppy?” The dog had to weigh at least sixty-five pounds. How much bigger could she get? Freja gave a quick bark and then crashed down across one of Tom’s feet. She lay down right on top of it, crossed her front legs, and lowered her head.

  All three of them looked down at her. She didn’t seem to have any intention of moving. Tom tried to move his foot. She whined.

  “Worst-case scenario, we’ll have to put her down,” said Nilas.

  Ellinor raised a hand to her mouth and turned pale. Tom gave Nilas a suspicious look—he wouldn’t put emotional manipulation past him. Freja, still lying on his foot, had now started licking something on the ground, but other than that she looked pretty healthy.

  “Tom, you can’t let her be put down,” Ellinor said. Somehow he was now the villain in this whole tale. He should have just let the dog run off.

  Tom glanced around, as though he was attempting to find someone who could confirm the bizarreness of the situation he found himself in. A woman with her head bowed and a bouquet beneath her arm was just coming out of the grocery store. He recognized her, he realized, because it was Ambra Vinter. She seemed to be trying to sneak past without being seen.

  “Hi,” he shouted loudly.

  She stopped, looked up, met his eye, and hesitated, as though she really just wanted to hurry on.

  “Oh, hi!” Ellinor said cheerily. Ambra looked as if she had given up all hope of passing by without being noticed. She nodded to Tom and then turned to Ellinor.

  “Good to see you again,” said Ellinor.

  “Hi, Ellinor,” Ambra said. She greeted Nilas and glanced guardedly at Tom.

  “Hi,” he said again. Had she really been planning on sneaking past? Ambra shoved her hands into her coat pockets.

  Ellinor looked back and forth between them. “You two know one another?” she asked.

  “Yeah,” Tom said with a nod, at the exact moment Ambra shook her head and said, “No.”

  Ellinor cocked her head. Freja scratched herself again, her entire enormous body shaking.

  “We bumped into each other the other day,” Ambra said vaguely. It was clear the entire situation bothered her.

  “Ambra is working up here,” Tom said, though no one asked.

  “I know.” Ellinor nodded, placing a hand on Ambra’s arm. “She’s here to interview Elsa Svensson.”

  Ambra gestured to the bunch of flowers beneath her arm. “I’m actually on my way over there now. She lives around the corner. I didn’t realize you two knew one another. You wouldn’t be . . . ?” She paused, embarrassed.

  “Tom’s ex,” Ellinor filled in with a kind smile.

  “Thought so.”

  The silence spread. Nilas hadn’t said a word since he’d greeted Ambra. He just studied them, glancing at Freja every now and then. He stood there looking reliable, in a Norrland kind of way. It felt strange that Ellinor was with Nilas now. It felt wrong. Like a misunderstanding that Tom could fix if only he could sit down, draw up a plan, form a strategy. If he could just do something.

  Tom looked at the dog, which was sitting on his foot. Ambra scratched her nose and pushed her hair from her face. Ellinor, on the other hand, glanced between Ambra and Tom, a slight frown on her otherwise smooth brow, as though she was trying to work out if there was anything to read between the lines.

  “I’m going to be late,” Ambra said suddenly, not to anyone in particular. She gave Nilas a quick nod; gave Ellinor a quick, slightly awkward hug; and then glanced at Tom. It was impossible to tell what she was thinking.

  “Ambra . . .” he started, at the exact same moment that she said the world’s shortest “Bye” and hurried away. Leaving him, Ellinor, Nilas, and the dog to their fate. He didn’t blame her.

  “Sweet girl,” said Ellinor.

  Sweet? That wasn’t quite the word he would use to describe Ambra. Ellinor watched her until she turned the corner. “Is something going on between you? Or am I just imagining things?”

  Was there something between them? He remembered the noises Ambra made when he pushed her up against the hotel door.

  “No,” he replied firmly, and then a slobbering noise by his feet caught his attention. Freja had started chewing his shoelace. Drool was running down his boot. What the hell.

  “She likes you,” said Nilas.

  “I doubt that,” Tom said, with a glance in the direction Ambra had gone.

  “I mean the dog likes you,” said Nilas. “I’m not so sure about the girl. But the dog, she likes you.”

  Tom yanked his boot from beneath the dog. It was covered in slobber. Freja shook herself. Tom held out the leash to Nilas. He’d had enough of this circus.

  Chapter 16

  “We can surely have a little sherry before lunch,” Elsa said, opening a kitchen cupboard and taking out two small glasses and a bottle. She poured the liquor and handed Ambra a glass. Ambra wasn’t certain she had ever tried the stuff before, but she sipped it politely. If she’d had a grandmother of her own, she would have wanted to drink sherry with her. Elsa studied Ambra. “How are you?”

  The meeting outside the grocery store had had a stronger effect on Ambra than she expected. But she didn’t want to burden Elsa with that. “I’m fine. Thanks for inviting me over.”

  “I hope everything resolves itself with the flights. I’m sure there’ll be a spare seat soon. And your article was so lovely. You’re very talented.”

  “You think so? Thanks.” She was happy with the first, introductory piece. The actual interview would be published tomorrow.

  “Are you hungry? Sit, and I’ll serve up. I made moose steak. Real food. Do you like that?”

  “Sounds delicious.” The smell of the food was comforting. Meat, sauce, and potatoes. Proper Swedish food. She traced the squares on the tablecloth with her finger.

  “Are you sure everything is good? Did something happen? Is it the Sventins, did something else happen there?”

  Ambra shook her head. “It’s just this whole Kiruna trip,” she said, not quite honestly, because her thoughts were mainly on that strange scene with Tom outside the grocery store.

  She gently pulled at the tablecloth. Tom was in love with Ellinor, she was sure of that. And it wasn’t surprising. The woman was super gorgeous; she was blond, seemed nice and sweet and soft-edged. All in all the perfect woman. It was depressing.

  Elsa brought out a jug of lingonberry juice.

  “Sometimes I don’t understand myself. Or other people,” Ambra thought aloud.

  “Are you thinking of anything in particular?” Elsa asked as she placed a pot holder on the table, followed by a pot. She sat down opposite Ambra and held out the dish of potatoes. Ambra helped herself, allowed Elsa to serve her thin slices of meat.

  “Relationships, I guess. I don’t get why they’re so hard. For me, at least.” She heaped lingonberries, sauce, and pickles onto her plate, Elsa said bon appétit and they started to eat.

  “It’s delicious,” Ambra said between bites. It was so rare for her to eat home-cooked food. She just wanted to stay in Elsa’s cozy kitchen, eating homemade dinner, listening to the radio, and feeling normal for a while.

  “They’re hard for everyone. Some people never learn to master them. Relationships, that is,” Elsa said.

  Like me, Ambra thought. That was how it felt. As if she hadn’t learned all of the rules for navigating people without making a fool of herself. Without being abandoned. A small, illogical part of her often wondered whether there was something inside her, some quality that meant she genuinely wasn’t worthy of love. The grown-up, rationa
l part of her knew it was nothing to do with her. It wasn’t her fault her parents had died, that she was passed around in an imperfect system of foster homes. But it made no difference what her brain told her. She still had a nagging suspicion that, at some fundamental level, there was something lacking with her. That everyone she met would notice it sooner or later. That no man would ever look at her the way Tom looked at Ellinor.

  “Maybe I’m a lesbian and don’t even realize it,” she said.

  Elsa took another potato and laughed. “I doubt that, even if it is a lifestyle I’d recommend.”

  “I’ll remember that.”

  “Why was it that you ended up with the Sventins?”

  “My mom died and there was no one else, so social services placed me there.”

  “That’s terrible.”

  “Yeah.” Ambra didn’t remember any details from her early childhood, before everything changed. Sometimes she wasn’t even sure she knew the things she knew. Maybe those scents and odd, vague memories she thought she could remember were all just made up. A broad, smiling mouth and sad eyes. And, even earlier: two people who laughed a lot and who represented safety.

  “Mom died of a brain hemorrhage. It was Christmas. They didn’t find me until a few days later.” Ambra was in bed next to her when the police broke down the door. She didn’t remember any of this, but she had once read her file. “I guess that’s when I started hating Christmas.”

  The girl was found in bed next to the deceased mother, dehydrated and exhausted.

  Social services took care of her after that. For a while, a very distant relative took her in. She shared a room with two siblings and could vaguely remember colorful walls and sliced bread for breakfast, but they didn’t want to keep her. The family feels the child is too much trouble, she later read in her file. Apparently a five-year-old orphan could be so difficult that you got rid of her. There wasn’t anyone else after that, and so she ended up in her first foster home. Somewhere around the tenth, she finally lost count.

  Elsa lifted her sherry glass and studied her for a long while. “But something else is bothering you today, isn’t it?”