Come on, Anette. You can do it!

She took another deep breath as the light from her flashlight slid over the flaking plaster on all sides, and the walls seemed to narrow in more and more around her. She noted her symptoms of panic and struggled to gain control.

You don’t die from sweaty palms and a little shortness of breath.

Maybe that inner monologue was the reason why she didn’t see him until he was right in front of her. The shock hit like a gut punch, and she had to bend over and hold on to the wall to keep from collapsing. She was gasping for air.

On the cold concrete floor in a narrow passageway deep within Fort Prøvestenen lay Oscar Dreyer-Hoff, staring blindly at the ceiling.

CHAPTER 22

The military EH101 Merlin helicopter flew in low over Copenhagen and landed on the roof of National Hospital. Clouds still covered the city in a thick layer, and rain was falling heavily in an early storm-induced darkness. The rescue helicopter was a flying emergency room with two nurses and a doctor on board, who tried to revive the patient all the way from Fort Prøvestenen. Detective Anette Werner sat beside them with a blanket around her shoulders, watching.

It took less than five minutes from the landing on the roof until Oscar Dreyer-Hoff’s gurney was rolled into the hospital’s trauma center. Here a team of sixteen doctors, surgeons, and trauma nurses stood waiting to continue the resuscitation attempt. The cardiologist determined that the patient was more dead than alive. His body temperature was 76.5°F, which meant that he was suffering from third-degree hypothermia. There were scant respiratory motions, and his pupils were not reactive.

The trauma team began CPR immediately, as they slowly warmed Oscar’s chilled body and administered IV fluids. With severe hypothermia, it’s no good warming patients up too quickly from the outside because then the cold blood flows to the heart and stops it. Instead, the perfusionist hooked Oscar up to a heart-lung machine that took over his circulation, allowing his blood to slowly regain the proper temperature.

A medical secretary walked Anette down the hallway to the family members’ waiting room and gave her a cup of hot cocoa. That’s where Jeppe found her when he came running through the trauma center’s red doors eight minutes later. She looked so very fragile that he walked straight over and threw his arms around her. For the first time in their ten-year partnership Anette put her forehead against his shoulder and allowed him to comfort her. After several minutes she pulled away and dried her cheeks.

“Typical of you to take advantage of a situation like this to feel me up!” she joked.

Jeppe laughed and took a seat on the wool sofa next to her.

“Are you okay?” he asked.