I pressed the button, heard the door to the building swing open. I opened the front door, watched as he appeared around the corner. He was carrying a scuffed plastic bag, wearing yesterday’s shirt. He looked flat and ragged, as if he had been up all night. He reached out, hugged me awkwardly, patted my back as he stepped away.

“Jo sends his love.”

“Thanks, Edvard,” I said. “Appreciate it.”

He gave a little half smile. “I did think you might need these.” He looked down at the plastic bag in his hand. “Normally they’d just download your phone and hand it back, but they’re up to their eyes right now.”

He opened the bag, handed me three simple gray mobile phones.

From his shirt pocket he took three folded envelopes. “SIM cards.”

“They didn’t take mine.” Vee was beside me, blinking up at Edvard.

Edvard smiled. “They will. Once they realize they haven’t.”

“Okay.” She reached into her jeans pocket, held out her phone.

Edvard shook his head. “I’m not on the clock.” He stood there for a moment, staring at Vee. “I can’t imagine what this is like for you, Viktoria.” He smiled awkwardly, turned, and walked briskly along the passageway.

Vee watched him go, listened as his footsteps faded down the passageway. The main door swung open; it swung shut. She turned to me. “Jo’s so great, and Edvard’s so weird.”

She headed into the living room. I heard her sit heavily down on the sofa, followed her in.

The images had switched to aerial shots from the news helicopters. Clothing lay scattered. Bodies lined the water’s edge, some in bags.

“Love,” I said, “I don’t think watching this is a such a great idea.”

“But yesterday, that clip they showed. Same dress. Same hair. So we know she was alive. And they never showed that bit again. Which is weird, right? We agree on that? And we agree that the bomb was a diversion? And the children on the island were the real target?”

“We don’t know that for certain.”

“Actually, yes, we do.” She picked up her phone, unlocked it, handed it to me.

PRESS RELEASE

All media

From the desk of Commander John Andersen

12 p.m., 23 June

“What is this, Vee?”

“Read it.”

At first you will call us child-murderers.

The actions we will take today are horrible, unthinkable to any civilized person. Yet the “children” we eliminate on this peaceful island would soon enough have on their hands the blood of our white brothers and sisters. And so we are compelled to act.

We must learn the lesson our enemies learned long ago: that the child is never simply the child. Children are soldiers. They are transmitters of ideology. We underestimate them at our peril.