142

"So, it looks like this Gus guy is a friend of Pedro," Bjorn commented, noticing a Lance Security logo at the bottom of one of the posters in front of Gus' store. "Proud to be associated with Lance Security and Rogue Justice," it said in a banner next to it.
"That's a sinister organization if I ever saw one," Bjorn continued, pointing to the banner. "Rogue Justice, I mean."
"Yeah?" Ante asked. "And what is it?"
"They are hired guns, that's what they are."
"A little like us in other words," Ante commented flippantly.
"Well, not exactly. We don't kill for money."
"Really?"
"No! What is it with you?"
"I mean, if we get orders from Oslo to arrest or kill Jan, for instance, we're not going to do it?"
"Well... But that's different. And it's not going to happen. Is it?"
"I sure hope not. I'd hate to get on the wrong side of him and his thugs."
"Me too."

Having seen enough of Gus' posters, Bjorn turned to the street, looking in both direction from the corner where they were standing. He could see the odd car moving passed the intersection down by the main road. But the road along the crest of the hill was quite deserted. There were a few parked cars here and there, but no one out in the street.

"He even has a shooting range," Ante commented.
"Who?" Bjorn asked.
"Gus."
"Really? Where?"
"Over by the airport, apparently."
"And how do you know?"
"Well, it said on that poster you pointed to. Didn't you read it?"

Bjorn turned to have another look at the poster which had appeared to him as a pure propaganda piece for selling military grade weapons. And now at second glance he saw it immediately. Gus did not only sell guns and security equipment. He provided training too, and the poster made this quite clear.

"Funny how I didn't get that right away," Bjorn commented.
"You're a terrible detective, that's for sure," Ante replied.
"You think so?"
"Yeah, I do," Ante said with a smile. "But lets have a pizza. I'm hungry."

The men crossed the street and walked in the direction of the church.

"So, who is this Gus anyway?" Bjorn asked. "Sounds like an American with a name like that."
"I think he is. He sounds like it, and he looks like an ex-marine. You know, with a crew cut and everything."
"Really? And why is he here? He's not an asylum seeker, surely."
"No. I'm pretty sure he isn't."
"He's part of this whole Mafia thing, isn't he?" Bjorn suggested.
"Mafia?"
"Well, how else would you describe the things going on here?"

Ante didn't reply right away.

"I kind of like this, though," Ante replied.
"You do?"
"Yeah. I don't see anything wrong going on."
"You don't? But that guy is selling weapons over there. Don't you find that a tiny bit creepy? And look! Isn't that David's drug store?"

Bjorn pointed across the street, a little up from where they were walking.

"The sky is not the limit! Isn't that what it says on that board over there?" Bjorn continued.
"Yeah, yeah, it does."
"Isn't that a little odd?"
"Well... It's not like that guy is forcing me to buy his drugs."
"But he's obviously selling drugs, isn't he?"
"Yeah, but he's a pharmacist. What do you expect."
"I'd expect him to sell proper drugs. You know, medicine. Not crap."
"Okay, okay! So this place is in the hands of the Mafia. So what?"
"So what?" Bjorn asked perplexed.
"Yeah? So what? As long as no one is harmed, what do I care?"
"Boy! You  really have spent too much time with Thomas."
"Yeah, I guess I have," Ante said with a smile. "But anyway, here's Peppe's Pizza. Let's have a bite!"