‘I had the chip,’ Yassim says quietly. ‘I had the plan, but I didn’t have the password. I knew it involved multiple coordinated attacks. But I had no details. And I trusted the Russians before Paris. But after that, when I realized how ruthless they were… I realized that if I gave the cell in Brussels the chip everything would be over, they’d have the information and I would lose control. And the Russians wouldn’t stop them. Jacob offered to do it that very evening.’

Yassim turns around and looks at him.

‘I didn’t want to at first. The thought had occurred to me, but I couldn’t pull you into this. I definitely couldn’t suggest it. But when you brought it up…’ He shakes his head slightly. ‘I knew it was an opportunity. It was dangerous, of course, but it gave me a few days to find the password and then pick you up at the airport. But they were suspicious and insisted on meeting you themselves. I had no alternative so I had to agree then try to improvise. It was just dumb luck that you were smart enough to remove the chip, Jacob. Even though in the moment I was afraid they were going to shoot us both. It was close – I think I got you out at the very last second.’

‘But how did you get the password?’ Jacob asks. ‘If you tried so long…?’

‘How do you think?’ he says, staring coolly into Jacob’s eyes.

‘You forced them?’ Jacob says. ‘Somehow?’

‘Somehow,’ Yassim says, turning his gaze back to the forest and darkness outside.

25 November

Bergort

Two men have entered the soccer field and they’re coming towards her unhurriedly with their hands at their sides. One is dressed in a long, dark coat, bareheaded. His well-trimmed, grey hair is styled in a way that doesn’t seem to be affected by wind or snow. In the dark, Klara can just make out that he seems tan, with deep wrinkles on his forehead.

The other man, walking right behind him, is very large and wears some kind of Gore-Tex jacket, with a hat pulled low on his forehead.

He has a gun in his hand, but it’s pointed down towards the AstroTurf.

They stop about five metres from Klara without saying a word. She throws a glance over her shoulder, towards the other end of the field, and sees another man there.

She’s surrounded. It’s a trap, just as she thought, and now it’s time. Time to drive this story to its end. Her mouth is very dry, but she feels strangely focused, strangely calm. Despite the men coming towards her.