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Thursday, August 28, 2014

112

Ante and Bjorn looked at Frank's gun on the coffee table, then at each other.

"So what do we do?" Ante asked.
"About the gun, you mean?"
"Yeah."

Bjorn had no ready answer. Ante shouldn't have picked the gun up in the first place, but now that the damage was done, they had to come up with some way to make it seem like almost an accident that the gun found its way back to the checkpoint.

"Will you take it up to Frank for me?" Ante asked.
"Me?"
"Yeah... you know... Take it up and give it to him. Say something like, 'Ante picked this one up for you, and here it is', you know... matter of fact like."
"No! I'm not going to do that. It's your problem, not mine. And by the way, Frank is almost certainly fast asleep right now. He won't be very happy with me waking him up."

Ante looked disappointed and a little desperate.

"Come on!" Bjorn said, making an effort to sound sensible. "It's not such a big deal. Why don't you keep it with you until Frank shows up, and then you give it to him... in the manner of fact way you had in mind."

But before Ante had time to reply, Thomas appeared in doorway.

"So, what's up?" He asked cheerfully.
"Ah... nothing." Ante answered, shortly followed by Bjorn telling Thomas honestly about the gun, without revealing any of the conclusions that he and Ante had arrived at, or saying anything about the prostitutes.
"Well, that's nice of you," Thomas said with not even a hint of irony. "I'm sure he'll be happy to have it back... Imagine that, though... Misplacing his gun at the casino... He really is an airhead at times."

"So, what's for dinner?" Thomas continued, clearly not very concerned about Frank's gun.
"Roasted turkey legs," Ante answered. "With roasted potatoes and green beans."
"Man! And I'm missing out on that!"
"You are?" Bjorn asked, puzzled.
"Yeah, I'll be sitting in the glass box while you enjoy your feast... Make sure you leave some for me, will you?"
"Of course," Ante answered. "Have I ever not done that?"
"No, but I don't want to take any chances."
"You want me to bring out a plate for you right away when we start eating?" Bjorn suggested, for some reason feeling generous towards Thomas. "That way you won't have to wait until nine."
"Well, that would be great. You think Frank's okay with that?"
"Sure... of course," Ante said confidently. "He won't mind."

Wednesday, August 27, 2014

111

"So, who's the one with limited observational skills now?" Bjorn asked with a malicious smile.
"Well, we don't actually know that he's corrupted," Ante countered while looking around for a place to drop the gun.
"No, but do you have a better explanation?"
"Not really."
"So you think I'm right, then?" Bjorn asked, delighted to finally being the observant one.

Ante did not answer, putting instead the gun down on the coffee table. Then, as Bjorn pressed him for an answer he had to admit that Bjorn had a good point. But it wasn't completely impossible that Frank was the kind of person who'd spend every penny of his earnings on immediate pleasures such as those available at the casino, so he refused to give Bjorn full credit for his conclusion.

"It amazes me that no one has seen this before, though," Bjorn continued. "I mean... He has behaved like this before, hasn't he?"
"Every single time we´ve been down there," Ante confirmed. "But this was definitely his most outrageous performance so far."
"And no one has wondered about this?"
"No."
"But now that I've mentioned it, you find my explanation entirely plausible?"
"Plausible, yes. But not the only possible explanation."
"And that is why you don't want to report any concern to his superiors?" Bjorn asked, looking around to make sure that Ante and he were the only two in the room.

Ante hesitated, as if he was unsure what exactly his concern was. "But we do not know who his superiors are, do we?" he ventured as an initial objection.
"But that is not very hard to find out, is it?" Bjorn countered.
"No, maybe not. But do we really want to have Frank investigated? You think he's dangerous?"
"If he's corrupted, who knows what he might do?"
"But do you honestly think he's dangerous?"
"I don't know."
"Exactly! So why should we do anything? As long as we don't know anything, we shouldn't say anything... And Frank is a good boss, he gives us all sorts of freedoms, and if they replace him, I'm sure life will not be as good."

Bjorn had to agree with Ante's final point. Frank was an easy going boss, never too picky about the rules, and having him replaced would almost certainly lead to less freedoms. And maybe this was why everybody else too were pretending not to notice Frank's self indulgent blowouts.

"It wouldn't be very popular with our colleagues, would it?" Bjorn asked rhetorically.
"It would not," Ante agreed.

Then, as their mutual but unspoken agreement to keep quiet about Frank was sinking in, Bjorn was reminded of his conversation with John, and he broke the silence between the two by asking why Ante had offered him so little for the night shift.

"Oh... I don't know," Ante replied, clearly caught off guard by the change of subject. "I did not expect you to take my offer without haggling, I guess."
"Well, I'm not very pleased with it," Bjorn said, not hiding his disappointment.
"Yeah, but what should I have done? You accepted the offer and took the money. Should I have stopped you?"
"Yeah, you should. You should have offered me one G for the job."
"One G? Well... that would have been more than what I pay the others. Eight hundred MG would have been more like it."
"Okay... But that's what you should have offered me."
"I only had that five hundred MG token on me."
"So?"
"Well..."
"Anyway... Don't pull stunts like that on me again, will you? I like you, and I don't want to end up disliking you for stupid things like this."

Ante looked a little bothered, yet defiant. But he did not pursue the topic any further. Instead, he asked Bjorn if he had managed to change his night watch with John.

"Yes, I did," Bjorn said. "And I've noted the changes on the spread sheet in the kitchen."
"Good... And how do you plan to get your rest for the night?"
"I'll turn in early, I guess... Why?"
"So you'll be fine with a trip to Lundby tomorrow?" Ante asked.
"Yes?"
"How about us two going down there tomorrow, after breakfast?" Ante suggested. "We can have lunch at Peppe's, and explore the village. You'd like that, wouldn't you?"
"Well, that's a great idea," Bjorn answered with enthusiasm.
"So that's a deal then?"
"Sure."

Monday, August 25, 2014

110

There were no more mentions of Rouge Justice in the article, and Bjorn had the distinct impression on having read the whole thing that the mention of the company was something of an afterthought, as if the author of the article had had a hard time believing the existence of the company herself.

However, there had been a series of incidents lately, in places like London and New York, where people had been assassinated in what seemed to be acts of extrajudicial justice, and Bjorn could not help being reminded of these incidents on having read the article.

The most famous case was the killing of a Syria fighter returning to his native England. The jihadist had been met by two police officers at Heathrow airport, and was being escorted out of the building when his head pretty much exploded from a bullet entering his forehead and ripping out most of his brains on exiting on the other side.

The shot had been fired at a relatively short range, and at a top down angle which had seen the bullet lodge into the asphalt right behind the victim. The spot from which the shot had been fired was quickly identified, but the investigation of the incident came to nothing, despite the enormous amount of video surveillance available. Several suspicious individuals had been seen both entering the Heathrow area shortly before the incident, and leaving the area shortly after the shot was fired. However, no one was ever apprehended, and the official narrative of what had actually happened shifted as time progressed.

To start with, the police promised a swift and effective investigation, clearly confident that their enormous stack of video surveillance would soon reveal who the killer was. However, as time passed and no progress was made, all sorts of conspiracy theories started evolving, and in the end, the police seemed happy to give some support to the idea that it had been the English secret service, the CIA or some similar government agency that had been behind the assassination. The victim was after all suspected of having beheaded an American reporter, and his prompt execution on returning to England was by and large a popular one. A narrative in which the assassination was in fact planned and executed by government agents was in other words a desirable one from a purely political perspective.

But Bjorn did not buy it. There were too many inconsistencies in the new semi-official narrative, and the assassination at Heathrow was by no means the only one. Jihadists were dropping dead all over the place it seemed, if they were in fact all jihadists that is. And these other cases were generally played down in the media, which Bjorn took to indicate that people in powerful places were determined to keep these cases out of the public eye.

Bjorn found it much more likely that someone, or some group of people, had taken it upon themselves to execute who they themselves regarded as dangerous elements. And Bjorn was not the only one to be of this opinion. He had been following several web sites that claimed to report stuff that the government controlled media was either playing down, or ignoring all together, and he had seen how the reports were getting ever more ugly. And there seemed to be a growing sense among many that some sort of extrajudicial justice was warranted and desirable as long as the government seemed more concerned about protecting the perpetrators of crimes than to prosecute the criminals and have them properly sentenced.

It was the episode in Paris a few years back, where a raving anti-Semite had shot several Jewish school kids, execution style, and posted it on the web for all to see, that had turned talk into action, it seemed. The man had barricaded himself in a council flat, shooting at the police from the windows of his council flat, when he suddenly dropped dead just as the police was moving a robotic tear gas launcher up to the window.

The police was determined to catch the man alive, and was very upset to find him dead on the floor when they entered his flat. They reported it as suicide. But it could not possibly have been the case since the bullet that killed him was of a calibre that did not match any of his weapons. Someone had shot him dead, and it was not the police, nor the man himself. And ever since, a string of similar episodes kept popping up. Outrageous criminal behaviour such as the episode in Paris kept being met with fairly prompt executions, which in turn were covered up by the police, reported as suicides, or pretended to have been planned and executed by the authorities themselves.

But to think that a company existed out there with assassinations of this kind as its business model seemed a far stretch of the imagination. Killing people could hardly be a regular business. However, if Rogue Justice was more like an alias for something else, it could make some sense. Its mention in the article was in a way a message to people that assassinations are fully supported by powerful individuals in Lundby, provided the right conditions are met. It was in a way a green flag to anyone contemplating such an action, and a giant red flag to anyone considering a terrorist attack on the village. The way the company was mentioned was in many ways a clear message to people to feel free to create such a service if they feel it warranted. Neither Pedro nor Jan would object to it, provided the targeted person was plainly and clearly a dangerous criminal.

And it was while he was lost in speculations like these that Ante suddenly came into the room, all smiles and happy, calling on Bjorn to give him some attention. Bjorn was at once distracted from his thoughts, and was in stead confronted with Ante holding up a gun belt with a gun in it, swinging it from side to side as he asked Bjorn rhetorically to guess who's belt it was.

"It's Frank's gun, isn't it," Bjorn answered.
"And guess where I found it?" Ante continued with a smile.
"Upstairs at the casino?" Bjorn ventured.
"Exactly, and you won't believe what good old Frank has been up to."
"But you are going to tell me anyway, aren't you?" Bjorn asked.
"I am indeed!" Ante answered, smiling even broader. "He was kicked out this morning for being the biggest prick ever. He behaved as if the whole darn whorehouse was there to serve him, and although this was kind of quite for a while, it was not very welcome as the night drew to an end. So finally, they kicked him out for being a loud pain in the bum... Imagine that! Being kicked out of a brothel for being too eager!"
"But who in their right mind hangs around in a brothel for more than their allotted time?"
"Allotted time? What do you mean?" Ante asked, looking a little puzzled.
"Well, you just said he was too eager. He was hanging around there way beyond his allotted time, or am I missing something?"
"There is no such thing as allotted time in a brothel. As long as you pay, you can hang around as long as you please."
"Well, sorry for not knowing that," Bjorn answered, for once pleased to be the ignorant one. "So he paid for the whole night?"
"He did indeed."
"But isn't that expensive? I mean... Even in Lundby, that kind of services are hardly free."
"It is kind of odd, isn't it?" Ante agreed. "I have no idea where he gets the money from... and that gold card he keeps waving about..."
"He's corrupted, isn't he?" Bjorn ventured.
"By Jan and Pedro and those guys you mean?"
"Yeah."

Ante looked at the gun, and then back to Bjorn.

"You're right," Ante conceded with a concerned look on his face. "Somebody is paying him for something."
"Maybe we shouldn't talk too much about this in other words," Bjorn suggested. "Or do you think we should report this?"
"Oh no!" Ante said, suddenly fearful. "Let's just keep this under wraps."

Friday, August 22, 2014

109

The skimpy little newspaper was surprisingly full of well written articles, mainly focusing on local news, but also having the occasional musings on world events. Musings that were as anti-government as everything else in the newspaper, with plenty of over the top claims about the evils of foreign and domestic policies. "To understand the world, we have to keep in mind that governments are in fact criminal gangs, running protection rackets and fighting turf wars for their cronies," it said at one point in what would otherwise have been a well balanced and level headed analysis of the mess in Libya.

It was a little annoying to keep finding such blatant anti-government propaganda, but also refreshing in a way, considering how universally pro-government other news providers tended to be. From listening to TV reports, one would think that another military intervention in Libya was nothing short of an obvious must do. Having someone point out the complete mess left by the first intervention, and putting a question mark by the wisdom of further interventions seemed both proper and just, and it made it all the more evident that many so called journalists are not doing their job properly these days since such musings are rarely if ever expressed in the mainstream media.

However, Bjorn felt so uncomfortable being reminded of the possibility, however remote, that he might be called upon to protect so called national interests in Libya that he turned the page before reading the article to its end. He got the point. According to the Gazette "national interests" are in fact shorthand for oil fields, and the war in Libya has nothing to do with the security and well being of ordinary people, neither in Libya nor anywhere else. Rather, it has everything to do with oil companies wanting ordinary people to pay and risk their lives to secure their oil fields in far away places. Bjorn did not have to read the whole article to know that this would be the typical anti-government attitude towards the latest developments in Libya.

"Maybe true, maybe not," Bjorn thought to himself, uncomfortable with the idea that he might be drawn into an ugly war as a mere pawn in somebody else's game. But the article on Libya was soon forgotten as he turned his attention to the fears and anxieties experienced by the locals in Lundby regarding the so much talked about wave of immigrants, soon to flood the village with all sorts of people.

People in Lundby had been buying a lot of guns over the last two weeks, and a shooting range over by the airport had seen considerable business, with many people using it to practice using their newly acquired weapons. Pedro's insurance business had also seen a significant uptick. Everyone was scared, it seemed, and Bjorn got the distinct feeling that Pedro, or Gus the gun store owner, were behind this, doing their best to make things sound worse than they were in order to generate even more business for themselves.

There was nothing very surprising about the first half of the article, which focused entirely on Gus's gun store and Pedro's insurance company. However, when Bjorn came across a mention of a company called Rogue Justice, Bjorn had to reread the sentences in front of him a couple of times to make sure he had understood them correctly.

"Is this serious?" Bjorn wondered, dropping the newspaper onto the coffee table. "Is this real?"

Bjorn looked out of the window, digesting the strange and matter of fact way the article had described the services offered by Rogue Justice. He noted that the snow had now fully turned to rain. Then he picked up the newspaper again, rereading the sentences once more.

 "For those with particular concerns," it read, "Rogue Justice will facilitate assassinations, provided the person in question is clearly and obviously guilty of a grave crime, Rogue Justice will facilitate the elimination of that person against a fee ranging from one KG and upwards depending on the difficulty of the job."

Thursday, August 21, 2014

108

Bjorn found a red pen next to the fridge, and noted down the change of schedule on Frank's spreadsheet. Feeling peckish, he proceeded to make himself a ham and cheese sandwich, which he brought with him back into the living room.

There was still nobody there, and the comfy chair was where he left it, squarely in front of the large window by the coffee table. The sleet was giving way to a light drizzle, and there were hardly any snowflakes fluttering around outside. But the drab view had a sombre fascination to it, and Bjorn was happy just siting in the easy chair for a while, munching his sandwich while contemplating the grand silent nothingness of the arctic.

Seemingly out of nowhere, Bjorn was suddenly reminded of the slogan used by David's Pharmacy. "The sky is not the limit," hovered in his head as a quirky thought, and he found himself wondering what the limit is, if not the sky. "What a silly slogan," he thought as he contemplated the absurdity of the quote. "Why would anyone want to go beyond the sky?"

Then, waking up from his meditative state, he realized that the slogan was actually staring him right in the face all along. He had put the Lundby Gazette face down on the coffee table, and the ad for David´s pharmacy was right in front of him, with the slogan as its title.

Having finished his sandwich, Bjorn picked up the newspaper and after a brief look at the ads on the back, he started reading the articles, starting with the front page headline which read: "Will the boom turn to bust?"

The article was all about the spectacular increase in commercial activity that had blessed the little community with plenty of business and job opportunities. And retail had been particularly blessed with ever growing demand for all the cheap products available in the village. People were coming from all over Finnmark county to buy cheap stuff in Lundby, and a new make shift supermarket had been opened in an abandoned warehouse at the port in order to handle the expected all time high influx of shoppers over the weekend. An improvised petrol station had also seen the light of day over at the port.

Entrepreneurs, both local and not so local, were scrambling to take advantage of the unique tax benefits offered in Lundby. However, the article pointed out that the current state of affairs would not likely last for much longer. Competing businesses outside of Lundby were petitioning government agents in Oslo to crack down on the village and level the playing field by introducing tariffs and taxes. And it would be naïve to think that the central government would not act to save and help struggling businesses in Kirkenes, Neiden, and even Alta and Tromso by introducing tariffs, not least because this would add to the coffers of the central government in Oslo.

The article concluded that things would soon become much harder for businesses in Lundby, and that exuberant investments into retail businesses at this point was extremely risky. The retail market could easily be reduced to just a fraction of its current size. And with popular support for such an action from local merchants outside Lundby and ordinary people living far away from the village, unable to take advantage of the great bargains to be had in Lundby, the likelihood of high tariffs being introduced seemed a near certainty.

The article was level headed in many ways, but Bjorn found its aggressive tone towards the government in Oslo surprisingly harsh. The journalist was completely ignoring the fact that the government had actually created Lundby in the first place. Levelling the playing field, as it were, made perfect sense, both from the viewpoint of local disadvantaged businesses and from the viewpoint of the government. And with most people unable to take advantage of the bargains in Lundby, the new regulations would have little political impact. Bjorn agreed with the article's conclusion, but did not see it as necessarily a bad thing, considering how many people would actually be better off by an intervention.

Wednesday, August 20, 2014

107

Bjorn waved goodbye to Ante as he passed by in the back seat of Igor´s car. Then he held out a hand to get a sense of how hard it was raining.

Standing on the ledge by the front door, he was reasonably sheltered by the small cape protruding overhead, and with a slight breeze coming from the north he could easily light himself a cigarette as it was practically wind still where he was standing, facing the hills to the south.

Bjorn took a few deep puffs of his cigarette, started thinking about Frank´s idiotic adventure and was by way of associations suddenly reminded of the boat taxi that he had to inform Frank about. He felt a sting of shame as he thought of the boat taxi. The service was so obviously out of line with the regulations that he should have seen it immediately, just like Geir did. However, there was also something equally obvious about the great benefit of the service to the people of Kirkenes and Lundby. And this had somehow obscured the fact that it was way out of line as far as the regulations were concerned. He had seen the benefit to everyone, while he should have seen, in his capacity as boarder guard, the violation of protocol and regulations.

Bjorn felt incompetent, and he worried for a moment that the incompetence was structural in the sense that it had something to do with his personality, rather than commitment. Ante had just accused him of being a lousy observer, not for not seeing stuff, but for not seeing the right kind of stuff. And Bjorn had to admit that there was some truth to what Ante had said, and he wondered as he stood there with his cigarette in hand, if he could hope to get better at seeing the right kind of stuff, or if he was in fact a hopeless case incapable of improving his observational skills.

Bjorn tossed the butt of his cigarette, still glowing, out on the wet slushy mess covering the parking lot. It hissed briefly as it hit the ground, and disappeared promptly as it rolled off to the side into the tracks carved into the wet snow by the tires of Igor´s car. Then he turned back into the stuffy warmth of the barracks.

"The second door to the right," Bjorn thought to himself as he climbed the stairs. Then he knocked on the door and waited for John to open, which John did after first asking "who´s there?"

John made no effort to be friendly, and looked at Bjorn blankly as he explained why he would like to swap his night watch with John.

"And what´s in it for me?" John asked, evidently not in a mood to change anything.
"Ah... I don´t know. It´s not like I got an awful lot for taking the night shift in the first place," Bjorn answered.
"Really? What did you get?"
"Five hundred MG."
"He paid you funny money?" John asked, genuinely surprised.
"Yeah... I spent it last night. All of it. So it was not really funny money to me since I needed it anyway."
"Sure... But five hundred MG? What is that?"

John made a quick calculation of the corresponding amount in "real money", but knowing the exact exchange rate Bjorn corrected John with the actual amount, which was slightly more than John´s estimate.

"Still, that´s almost half of what I got," John said. "I think you´ve been had."
"Really?" Bjorn asked, feeling a sting of anger for having been conned into taking the night shift too cheaply.
"Yeah... You have to be careful with Ante... Offer him an inch and he´ll take an arm, if you know what I mean," John added.
"But I like Ante," Bjorn protested.
"Not so much anymore, I bet," John said with a malicious smile.
"No... But I´ll talk to him. I´m sure its some stupid prank or something... Anyway, will you swap my night shift with the one you got tonight?"
"For the right compensation... sure."
"Well, then I´ll just leave it as it is," Bjorn said, feeling angry with John for having no desire to help him out for free.

Bjorn thanked John for nothing, and turned around, fuming and frustrated from repeatedly feeling like a dupe and a failure. Then to his surprise, John called after him.

"It´s all right Bjorn!" John said. "I´ll swap your night watch for mine. Make sure to note it on the fridge, will you?"
"Really?" Bjorn asked suspiciously.
"Yeah sure... You go ahead and note it down, and I´ll take your night watch tomorrow."

Tuesday, August 19, 2014

106

Frank left the room tired and fuming with frustration, leaving Igor puzzled and Ante grinning happily.

"Well, that was quite a performance," Bjorn noted, the dull sound of Frank stomping up the stairs in the background.
"What was all that about?" Igor asked.
"Frank managed to misplace his gun at the brothel," Ante answered.
"He did? What a jerk."
"Oh well, he's a nice guy. I'm sure God will forgive him... Give me five minutes, will you, and I'll be with you."

Ante left the room for the kitchen, shortly followed by Igor who went outside to wait in his car, leaving Bjorn all to himself again. The snowy weather was turning into sleet. Big heavy drops of water could be seen between the snow flakes, and the greyness outside was turning correspondingly somber and uninviting.

Bjorn was glad to have the day off, still feeling tired and dull from the night's experiences. But tonight, or was it the following night? Bjorn had promised to take Ante's shift, and he was starting to dread it. It had seemed so far into the future when he accepted the deal, but time to deliver on his promise was soon arriving.

Then a thought struck him. If he was to take the night shift tomorrow, it would lead directly to his regular morning shift, and that would mean twelve continous hours in the glass cage. That would be impossible. He would need some sort of arrangement with Ante or somebody else to get a break around breakfast time, at the very least.

Bjorn had to find out exactly what he had agreed to, so he got out of his chair and headed for the kitchen.

"When exactly am I taking your night shift?" Bjorn Asked as he entered the kitchan. "Tonight, or tomorrow ninght?"
"Tomorrow," Ante answered without taking his eyes away from the turkey legs he was marinating.
"But that leads directly to my morning shift."
"It does, doesn't it?" Ante commented, still not taking his eyes off what he was doing. "I can take thirty minutes in the cage while you get your breakfast. Or you can swap with John. He's taking my night shift tonight."
"He is?"
"It's all written down on Frank's schedule."

Bjorn looked over at the paper hanging on the door of the refrigerator. The spread sheet had hand written lines and comments in blue and red all over it, yet for some reason, Bjorn had never bothered to study it to find out exactly what the rearrangements were.

"If you were a little more attentive to details, you'd be a lot better off," Ante remarked.
"What you mean?" Bjorn asked, feeling strangely hurt by Ante's comment.
"You're not a very astute observer, are you?"
"Me?"
"Yes, you... If you spent a little more time observing the world and a little less time meditating or speculating or whatever you do, you would be much better off. I'm sure of it."
"But I do pay attention to stuff," Bjorn protested.
"I'm sure you do," Ante answered with a smile. "But are you paying attention to the right kind of stuff. That's the big question."

Bjorn did not respond to Ante's provocation.

"You'll find John in his room, second door to the right," Ante continued as he finished marinating the turkey. Then, as he washed his hands before covering the meat with aluminum foil, he suggested that Bjorn sort out his problem himself.

"If there's no change to the schedule, I'll sit in the cage for you half an hour Monday morning," Ante continued. "And if you swap with John, please note the changes on Frank's spreadsheet. That way I'll know what your plans are for Monday."
"Okay," Bjorn said with a nod.

Bjorn followed Ante to the front door where Ante stepped out in the miserable weather, only taking an umbrella to protect himself.

"I'll be back in an hour," Ante commented as he headed for Igor's beat up Volvo. "Should I pick up Frank's gun too, while I'm at it?"
"No! Don't do that!" Bjorn responded, sensing that such a favor would be received badly by Frank.
"He wouldn't like that, would he?" Ante added with a mischevious smile.
"No, he wouldn't."