He nods. ‘I guess so. And I guess Myriam is working on behalf of the Americans somehow. That’s what Yassim says, that all the Western intelligence services are working together.’

‘What a jackpot for a brand-new embassy intern,’ George says, turning to him. ‘Straight into the thick of it?’

Jacob shrugs. ‘It wasn’t my choice to end up here.’

‘But there’s something that doesn’t add up here,’ George says.

Klara is silent for a moment, then she nods gently. ‘Yep, it doesn’t explain the Russians. And it doesn’t explain Gabi’s arrest, which is the reason we’re here.’

‘I don’t know anything about any Russians,’ Jacob says quietly.

‘Also your story doesn’t account for the fact that your boyfriend kidnapped then saved you. What the hell is that all about?’

‘I told you I don’t know.’ He lets his head fall forward again, into his hands, and it sounds like he’s sobbing.

‘The memory card,’ Klara says. ‘That’s the key. Where is it?’

In the rear-view mirror, she sees Jacob stick a hand into the pocket of his long parka. When he takes it out again, he’s holding a small, insignificant piece of plastic.

‘Is that it?’ says George, almost sneering. ‘Why didn’t your boyfriend just email it to whoever was going to take it?’

‘Yassim said they never use email or computers connected to the Internet,’ Jacob says. ‘Everything is done face to face.’

‘And Gabriella?’ Klara says. ‘Why did you contact her?’

He pauses before answering. Why did he contact her? ‘I read about her. She seemed tough, independent. And I didn’t know what would happen when I got here. What if I flew to Brussels and Yassim never showed up? Should I go to the police after what I went through in Beirut? I thought I needed a backup. And I guess I was right.’

*

The rain has started to fall harder and harder, and Klara adjusts the wipers.

‘We’re going home,’ she says quietly. ‘No sense in staying here. We’re driving back to Sweden.’

It feels good to make a decision, to have a goal, a direction, even if she has no idea what’s waiting for them there either.

George types their destination into his GPS, and they follow the blue line on the digital map: Leuven, Cologne, Hamburg, Copenhagen.

‘Ten hours to Malmö,’ he says. ‘Then we’ll see where we go from there.’

3

24 November

Belgium/Germany

It’s getting dark by the time they pass Leuven, and by Liège, night has definitely fallen. Klara glances in the rear-view mirror, but all she can see is a long line of headlights behind her.

‘I wonder if someone’s following us,’ she says. ‘I can’t imagine that we got away that easily.’

‘Believe me,’ Jacob says from the back seat. ‘It wasn’t that easy.’