189

By the time Bjorn and Frank entered the parking lot, Igor had already unloaded his car. And Ante was out with Igor looking over the wares and signing off on the delivery.

"You got any mail for us? Any parcels? Letters?" Frank asked, directing his question at Igor.
"Yep! Several letters and a parcel from Oslo," Ante answered on Igor's behalf. "Looks like you got our scanner already."

Ante handed the parcel and some letters to Frank, who gave a satisfied nod at the sight of the brown cardboard box, marked special delivery.

"Let's check this out," Frank said, turning to Bjorn. "Let's see if it is the scanner."

Frank brought the box and the letters into the living room where he dropped them on the coffee table.

"Ah... This letter is for you," Frank noted as he quickly looked through the post. Frank handed the letter to Bjorn, who put it in his back pocket. Then he opened the parcel with eager anticipation.

"Well, there it is!" Frank said with a satisfied smile as it became evident that the parcel did indeed contain the promised scanner. "Looks like you'll have your PC back very soon," Frank continued while removing a small hand held device from the box. "This comes with its own PC," he explained, calling Bjorn's attention to a small laptop included in the box.

A one page instruction leaflet explained how the included PC was configured to plug and play. All that was required was to connect the scanner to the PC, and to connect the PC to the internet.

"Why don't you take this out to Geir?" Frank suggested, putting the scanner back into the box before handing it all over to Bjorn.
"Sure! I'll do that," Bjorn replied, happy to know that he would soon have his PC back.

Bjorn took the box under his arm and headed back out, where he came across Ante and Igor again.

"So it was the scanner, was it?" Ante asked.
"Yes it was," Bjorn replied with a satisfied smile. Then he set off to the glass cage to have it installed.

Bjorn found Geir strutting about on the road immediately in front of the glass box, the automatic pistol hanging across his belly. He was clearly enjoying a sense of importance where he was moving slowly around. It was not immediately clear what it was all about, but as Bjorn came closer to the glass cage, he could see that Gus and his men had started setting up a sign down the road. The curve in the road, and the steepness of the stretch of road where the men were working had hidden them from Bjorn's view.

"They are not our prisoners of war, you know," Bjorn noted dryly as he approached Geir.
"No. Of course not," Geir replied, pretending to be confused by Bjorn's remark. "I'm just watching them. Making sure they do their job right."
"Yeah, but you don't need to stand here to see them work. You can see them just as well from the office."
"Sure. But it's a nice day. And it's easier to call them from here if I see them doing anything wrong."

Bjorn looked at Geir, but did not call him out on his nonsense. Instead, he called Geir's attention to the parcel under his arm,

"I can set it up for you," Bjorn suggested, seeing that Geir was in no hurry to go into the glass cage.
"If you don't mind," Geir responded, returning his attention to Gus and his men.
"You're not curious about the scanner?" Bjorn asked.
"No. Should I? It's just a scanner, isn't it?"
"Yeah, but..."

Bjorn gave up on drawing Geir's attention back to back to the scanner. And, in fact, he was quite happy to leave the man outside, as his very presence made him nervous and irritated.

Bjorn climbed into the office with the parcel where he disconnected his own PC, and replaced it with the one sent to them from Oslo. Bjorn connected the scanner to the lap top, typed in the name and password included in the one sheet manual, and after connecting it to the web, everything came up as it should.

Bjorn made a quick check to see if he could go to other web sites, but that proved impossible. The only site accessible to the lab top was the database at the foreign ministry. And even there, the browsing he had been doing earlier was cut off. The PC was dedicated to doing one thing, and one thing only, and that was to scan passports and similar travel documents.

"Maybe just as well," Bjorn thought to himself while picking up his own laptop and charger. "It's not like we are supposed to sit out here and surf the web."

Then, as Bjorn was about to leave the glass cage, Igor drove up to the side of the office. Bjorn let him pass with a friendly smile and a push of the green button. He watched Igor drive down the hill, slowly passing Geir and Gus before speeding up. Things were harmonious in a way, Bjorn thought as he picked up his things. Even Geir seemed to fit into the picture, despite his irritating ways.

188

"Excellent service, don't you think?" Frank asked Bjorn as soon as the two men had walked beyond hearing distance of Gus and his men.
"You placed the order this morning?" Bjorn asked.
"No. I contacted him yesterday. But still... Very impressive, don't you think?"
"Sure. Very impressive."

The two men walked in silence for a while. Then, Frank broke the silence by telling Bjorn that he was going to ask Gus to set up the fence he was planning to raise around the checkpoint.

"Really?" Bjorn asked, surprised. "Is that a good idea? I mean... Gus is one of them, isn't he?"
"Gus is harmless," Frank replied with confidence. "And a useful guy to have on our side. It's not people like Gus and Pedro and Jan we have to look out for. They are doing fine. They are profiting from this whole thing, and won't suddenly attack us. It's all the other villagers we have to keep an eye on. The desperate ones. The ones slaving away in Ane's factory, and all the others working for peanuts. The place is a prison camp. And in a prison camp you got two kinds of people. The inmates and the wardens. Gus is a warden of sorts. He's one of us."

Bjorn nodded. He agreed that Gus was hardly going to go on a suicide mission against the checkpoint any time soon. The man was no doubt doing just fine and would have nothing to gain by attacking them.

"So you're going to let Gus put up the fence?" Bjorn asked rhetorically.
"Yep. I actually contacted him several days ago when looking for quotes, and he's definitely the cheapest one. And with this quick service, he has convinced me. I'm going to use him. And why not? We use Pingo for our food, and no one finds that strange. They could in theory poison us all. But the idea is ludicrous. So ludicrous in fact that I bet you never thought of it."

Frank was right. The idea had never crossed Bjorn's mind.

"You see," Frank continued. "All these people making money out of this whole situation are completely harmless. The ones who will eventually attack us are the desperate ones. Not the ones that are profiting from this."
"Like those guys being flown in from Lier later this week?" Bjorn suggested.
"Yeah. And those slaving around in Ane's factory. There is a lot of desperation down there. And it's only going to get worse."

187

Bjorn was reluctant to leave his PC with Geir. But what could he do? Frank had in a sense taken over control of it, and ordered it used by Geir. Bjorn could not very well take it with him without first talking it over with Frank.

Bjorn left the glass cage feeling very uncomfortable with the whole situation. Then, as he spotted Frank up the road where Gus and his men were setting up a larger sign board, he figured he had to tell Frank how Geir had misbehaved, so in stead of heading back into the barracks, Bjorn proceeded up the road in the direction of Neiden.

Snow was melting on both sides of the road, but the tarmac was dry with the exception of the occasional trickle of water from one side of the road to the other. The tepid heat of the sun warmed his back pleasurably, and he felt strangely excited by the fact that he was walking up a stretch of road that he had never walked before.

"It's not a bad life at all, is it?" Bjorn thought to himself as he looked around at the great expanse of snow, poked through by rocks and bare knolls, recently freed from the white blanket of winter.

"Come and have a look at this," Frank said in a loud voice before Bjorn had come close enough to vent his frustration with Geir. "You got to see this! This is great."

Bjorn went up to Frank, turned around, and looked at the sign with its instruction to the drivers entering the colony from Neiden. "Passports required on entering," it read. "24 hour rule applies for tax free quotas purchased in the colony. Minors may only enter together with legal guardian."

"Well... Minors can't drive cars," Bjorn commented, thinking the last sentence a little superfluous.
"Sure, but they can hike, or take the bus," Frank countered. "There have been quite a few cases of kids getting into the colony without their guardians' consent over the last few months."
"Is that so?" Bjorn asked, feigning ignorance.
"Yep. The child protection service even had to close down its orphanage in Kirkenes and move to Alta. And even then, there have been escapes."
"Really?"
"It's a big problem. It's not something the media talks about, of course, but truth is that this colony is starting to be a lot of trouble, and I'm afraid it's our job to contain it and keep things from getting too much out of control."

Bjorn nodded thoughtfully.

"I caught Geir snooping around on my PC," Bjorn said, changing the topic of conversation to his more immediate concern.
"Really?"
"Yeah! And I'm not at all happy with him using it. I wasn't happy to start with, and I'm even less happy with this now."

Frank looked at Bjorn. "So how did you find out about this?" he asked.
"I got a message on my mobile. He was trying to change my profile."
"On your PC?"
"No. On a website where I have an account."
"Really?"
"Yeah."
"That's not like him, is it? Why would he do that?"
"I don't know. But he did it, and it is my PC. I just don't want him to use it."
"You want me to talk to Geir?"
"No, no..." Bjorn answered immediately, feeling suddenly uncomfortable with the way the conversation was going. Just the thought of having Geir and Frank discuss Bjorn's profile on the Blacklist was enough to make his cringe. "I just want you to know that I'm not happy with the situation."
"Okay," Frank said, turning his attention back to Gus and his helpers. "That looks absolutely fantastic, guys!" he said with genuine enthusiasm. "Let's set up the other ones too."

Then, as Gus and his men put away their tools in the back of their truck, a car could be seen pulling up to the glass cage, down the road.

"That looks like Igor's car," Frank noted. "Let's go down and see if he brought any post with him. If we're lucky, he might have the scanner. And then your problem will be solved."
"Igor brings the post with him?" Bjorn asked.
"Yeah, once or twice a week," Frank explained.

Frank turned back to Gus and asked him if he was all right with setting up the rest of the signs on his own. Gus responded by reiterating what Frank must have told him earlier, and it was clear that Frank's help was no longer needed.

"Let's see what Igor might have brought with him today," Frank said. Then the two men headed down towards the barracks where Igor had swooped in with his van and started to offload his cargo.

185

Bjorn rinsed his thermos and put it on the rack above the kitchen sink to drip dry. Then, he went up to his room for a rest. He felt like being on his own again, and sensing that Ante was feeling the same way, he left the man in the kitchen to finish his things.

Back in his room, Bjorn took a quick peek outside. He looked over at Gus' house in the distance, and was struck by how the place had completely lost its menacing appearance now that he had met Gus in person. Having shook hands with him, it seemed quite inconceivable that the man would do anything to harm him or any of his colleagues at the checkpoint. Gus simply wasn't the type to do anything rash. Bjorn's brief encounter with the man had convinced him of that.

"Strange how that goes," Bjorn thought to himself. "How meeting someone face to face can change ones feeling about another so dramatically."

Bjorn picked up the remote control for the TV, got into bed, and started zapping through the channels.

"... fight extremism," a voice said as he zapped over to one of the news channels. And there was a picture of the Wikipedia logo in the information box next to the anchorwoman that drew Bjorn's attention.

"Is Wikipedia fighting extremism?" Bjorn wondered. But he soon understood that Wikipedia was in fact the source of the alleged extremism, and not an institution fighting it. The TV display split into two, with the minister of cultural affairs appearing with a concerned look to the right of the anchorwoman. The minister explained how articles on Wikipedia had become ever more extreme over time, and that it was currently at a point of being dangerously misleading. She had therefore decided to allocate resources towards a general clean up of Wikipedia to make sure the various articles that so many people rely on for facts, were as factual and reliable as they should be.

It would be a daunting task. But the alternative to facing the online extremism head on would be to let it grow unhindered, and that could have some very serious consequences, the minister explained. Then she made a general appeal to the public about being critical about things found on the web, announcing that people should report suspicious content to the ministry through a newly created website called Real Truth.

The web address was displayed at the bottom of the screen, and the anchorwoman repeated it twice before thanking the minister for her time.

What followed was economic news. There had been a hostile attack on the Norwegian currency, but it had been pushed back by the central bank selling record amounts of US dollars. Nevertheless, the Norwegian currency had fallen, and there were concerns that there would be renewed attacks coming soon.

"That won't go down well with Espen," Bjorn thought, remembering how cross Espen got at the unexpectedly high price of the Gram on Friday. "Surely, the Gram will go up in price even more after this."

Bjorn remembered, with some amusement, how Espen had reacted to the price rise, which had occurred despite the falling gold price, so much touted in the news. But just as Bjorn's mind started to drift, a message came in on his mobile phone, and he was cut short in his meditative ramblings. He picked up his phone to see who it might be, and was somewhat surprised to see that it was from the Blacklist.

"Please confirm the changes to your profile," it read. And on reading these words, Bjorn immediately knew that Geir had been messing around on his PC. He leaped to his feet, and headed down to the glass cage, angry and impatient with Geir's misbehavior.

183

Bjorn found Frank talking to Gus and his two helpers by the entrance to the barracks.

"Did you tell Geir to use my PC?" Bjorn asked, breaking into the conversation.
"Yeah, I did," Frank replied, glancing briefly over at Bjorn before continuing talking to Gus.

Bjorn put his thermos by the entrance. Then he picked a cigarette out of his pocket and lit it. He started puffing it, standing by the door, at a discrete distance from Frank and the men from the village. The sun was just about to turn the corner of the building, but its rays were still beating down on the south wall, and Bjorn enjoyed the heat that they generated. There was still plenty of snow everywhere, but it was melting, and in another few weeks, it would probably all be gone.

Bjorn listened in on the conversation taking place without paying much attention. But from the accents, he figured that Gus must be an American and that his two helpers were Eastern Europeans, maybe Russians. They were talking about the signs, and where and how to set them up.

"What do you think, Bjorn?" Frank asked a little unexpectedly, lifting up a metal plate with the word "Customs" printed on it. "Looks professional, don't you think?"
"It sure does," Bjorn agreed.
"They made some bigger ones too, with instructions for people entering and leaving the colony. Come have a look!"

Bjorn walked over to where the men were standing. Looking into the back of Gus' truck, he could see several more metal plates with text on them, and a number of metal rods. There was also a big chest of tools and a small generator next to the plates.

"You got all this done this morning?" Bjorn asked, more out of politeness than genuine curiosity.
"Yes we did," Gus replied with a smile. "I'm Gus, by the way," he added, extending his hand for a handshake. "We promise, and we deliver. That's our motto."

Bjorn introduced himself briefly, and the two men shook hands. Gus' handshake was firm and assertive without being unpleasant.

"And this is Aleksander and Martyn," Gus continued. "They are from Ukraine."
"Pleased to meet you," Bjorn said politely, giving the two Ukrainians a friendly nod.

182

Bjorn felt strangely pleased with himself for having registered his complaint with the Blacklist. He was not alone in finding it intolerable that the website did not allow him to remove his profile, and having registered his complaint together with the three other disgruntled users, he had at least made it clear that he too was less than pleased with the way the site was hogging his data. He still felt irritated that his profile could not be erased, but his anger was gone. It was not like the site had an awful lot of information on him, and apart from the villagers and a few desperate individuals from places like Libya and the Middle East, no one was taking the site seriously anyway.

Bjorn poured himself a final cup of coffee from his thermos. Then, looking out over the fjord, he noticed the barge that had entered the port earlier, maneuvering out towards the center of the bay, filled with a cargo of containers. On studying the containers more closely with his binoculars, he saw that they were accommodation units, similar to the ones next to Ane's fish processing plants. And indeed, pretty much identical to those used as barracks at the checkpoint.

Bjorn sipped his coffee while following the barge on its way to its destination. For a while, it looked like it was heading for the village, but then, as it came closer, it made another turn and headed towards the airport. And just as the barge disappeared from view, another barge appeared, heading out from the port. This one filled with rocks and boulders. "It must have come in on someone else's watch," Bjorn thought as he looked closer to see if the rocks were iron ore, or simply building material.

The rocks carried by the second barge were pale grey, and clearly not iron ore, so Bjorn concluded that it must be intended for some building project, possibly related to the living units that he had just seen. He put down his binoculars and finished his coffee, idly following the barge on its way. And to Bjorn's satisfaction, the second barge followed the exact same path as the first one. They were related, in other words, just like he had thought. "They must be doing some last minute work in preparation for the influx of asylum seekers," Bjorn concluded.

The second barge disappeared behind the hill between him and the airport, and for a while, there was virtually nothing to occupy his mind. The coastguard vessel out to the north east was laying still in the water. The cranes to the north west were hardly moving, and even the luxury apartments down by the water seemed almost lifeless, with very little work being done outside.

Bjorn grabbed his pack of cigarettes, and was about to step outside when a small truck that he had idly been following as it headed towards the port, slowed down by the intersection with the Neiden road. The truck took a right turn, and sped up again as it started its climb towards the checkpoint.

Bjorn put the pack of cigarettes back in his pocket, and looking briefly at his PC to see if he was still logged in with the Department of Justice, he closed the tab connected to the Blacklist, not bothering to log out. A few minutes later, the truck appeared from behind the hill to the north east, after having been out of sight for a while. Then it completed its climb up the winding road before coming to a complete stop next to the glass cage.

The driver was a strong man with a crew cut, and next to him sat two men, just as strong as him but with a less disciplined look.

"We're here with the signs that Frank ordered," the driver said, before Bjorn had time to ask for the men's passports.
"Signs?" Bjorn asked, confused.
"Yep. Frank placed an order for some stuff this morning, and we're here to deliver it."
"Is that so?" Bjorn asked, still a little confused. "Wait a minute, I'll call Frank."
"Sure, you go ahead."

Bjorn called Frank, and got him immediately on the other end of the line.

"There's a guy here with some signs he's delivering," Bjorn explained. "Something you ordered this morning, he says."
"Oh! Already?" Frank replied. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you, but I thought they wouldn't be here before Geir had taken your place. Just let him in, will you?"
"Okay... He has two guys with him. Is that still all right?"
"Sure! They're putting up the signs. He'll need help to do that. You let them in. Tell them to drive up to the barracks, and I'll meet them there."
"Okay."

Bjorn put down the phone.

"That seems to be in order," Bjorn said to the driver. "Frank will meet you at the back of the barracks." Then, he opened the gate, letting the truck pass.

A little later, Geir appeared from behind the barracks, all smiles, wearing his bomber jacket and pilot sunglasses. Bjorn checked his watch, and was surprised to see that it was indeed time to call it a day.

"So, who was that guy I just let in?" Bjorn asked as Geir entered the glass cage.
"That was Gus, the owner of the gun store down in the village," Geir explained.
"Really?" Bjorn said in amazement.
"It's not as crazy as it sounds," Geir continued. "He is good with these kind of things. He does it cheaply and quickly. And Frank figures that we can influence him to our advantage if we promise him some business from time to time. Pretty smart, huh?"

Bjorn was not convinced, but nodded nevertheless. Then he handed the automatic pistol over to Geir.

"And let me use your PC, will you?" Geir insisted, as Bjorn was about to unplug it.
"No! It's mine," Bjorn retorted, pulling the cord from its socket.
"But mine is a stationary. I can't very well bring that one out here. And Frank suggested I use yours."
"He did, did he?" Bjorn asked, still very reluctant to hand his PC over to Geir.
"Yeah, he did."
Bjorn looked at his PC, then back at Geir. "Okay. If that is so, I'll let you use it. But only this once."

159

What exactly was Pedro having in store for him on Tuesday, Bjorn wondered. Now that it was established that Pedro was right about Wednesday, it seemed unlikely that he would be wrong about Bjorn's schedule on Tuesday. There would be some sort of test, and Bjorn would be judged according to his performance, but what exactly the test would entail was unknown.

It did not matter much what it was all about, though, Bjorn concluded, since the test was no doubt set up to test his personality in some way. There was some final test for him to clear before his assignment on Wednesday, and all he had to do on Tuesday was to act naturally, and pretend that he did not know that he was being tested.

But now that Pedro had hinted on the test, it was impossible for Bjorn to completely rid himself of the sense of self consciousness that comes with such knowledge. He felt watched and monitored, even in his own room. And on that note, his attention was drawn to a sun glare coming from a window or similar reflecting surface down in the village.

Suddenly, Bjorn got the creepy feeling that the whole village was watching him, but he lay the absurd thought quickly to rest, focusing instead on where the glare was coming from. He picked up a pair of binoculars and directed them towards the village, but the glare was gone before he found its source. Instead, he found himself studying Gus's gun store, partly hidden behind the little hill where Gus had set up the installation of fences and other defensive hardware.

"He has a clear view of us from that top window," Bjorn thought to himself as he studied the house that had once belonged to Ante's grandparents. "But he'd be an idiot to fire anything at us from that position. It is too far away and too obvious a target for a counter strike."

However, Bjorn could not completely free himself from an uneasy feeling that the bunker boys might have been right after all. Some of the stuff Gus had on display on his posters were hardly defensive, and if people were stocking up on that kind of weaponry, an attack on the checkpoint could easily be made. But it would be suicide for whoever attempted it. The air force would be called in, and the rebels would quickly be crushed. They would never reach Neiden, and even if they did, what could they do?

Only a suicidal bunch of madmen would attempt an attack on the checkpoint, and as far as Bjorn could judge, Lundby was not exactly brimming with such people. True, some of the folks down there were running away from the law, and Einar had even killed a man. But everyone seemed to have purely defensive concerns. And then there were people like Pedro and Jan who would hardly approve of such an attack. Those men would only stand to loose if things went completely haywire,

An attack on the checkpoint would be both suicidal and meaningless. If it ever happened, it would be a random act of violence, or an act of desperation, a final retaliation against a great injustice. And as long as no one was pushing them up against a wall, an attack was extremely unlikely, even if technically possible.

And while thinking of this, Bjorn realized that he was not much more exposed to violence where he was than he would have been on any other military base. Military personnel were increasingly being targeted by islamists and other loonies. He was probably no more exposed to such random violence at the checkpoint than anywhere else. But Gus' clear line of sight was nevertheless a little unsettling.

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!"

141

"There it is!" Ante exclaimed on seeing the roof of his grandparent's home appearing behind a small hill. "You see that hill, with the barbed wire and fences and stuff? Well, that is all part of my grandparents' back yard. It's turned into a kind of a show case for Gus's defense installations."
"So he's not just selling guns?" Bjorn asked.
"No. Anything defense related, he's into it."
"Really? You know Gus, then?"
"Yeah. I met him a few weeks back when I was in town with Thomas. We went up here to have a look at the store. And so we got to meet him. He seems like a nice guy."
"But all that barbed wire and stuff does not look too inviting, does it."
"Well, that's why he has it out in his back yard, tucked behind that hill, I guess."
"Yeah, I didn't see any of that when we drove by in Igor's car."
"No. It's all pretty toned down, seen from the street side."

Getting closer to Gus' property, the various exhibits could be seen in more detail. There were several different examples of fences, there were surveillance cameras, and rolls of barbed wire put out here and there. And it was clearly all for show.

Little foot paths, laid out with plenty of gravel, connected the back yard to the dirt path that the two men were following, clearly inviting them to walk in between the installations, almost like an open air museum.

"You want to have a look?" Ante asked as they came across the first of the foot paths leading into Gus' property.
"Sure! Why not?" Bjorn answered. "It's almost like a war museum, isn't it?"
"Yeah, it is, isn't it?"

"Private Property," a sign read, with "Trespassers will be Shot" written in small letters underneath. And was it not for the fact that the sign was placed on the back of a fence, so as to indicate that the threat applied to those venturing out of Gus' property, rather than into it, Bjorn would have hesitated to follow the foot paths further. But as it were, it all seemed quite harmless, despite of its aggressive nature. It also helped that the exhibits were clearly marked, and separated, so as to underscore the fact that the items on display were all for sale and only serving as examples.

"So you think this guy put up the fence around Ane's factory?" Bjorn asked idly.
"He probably did," Ante answered. "Who else would have done it?"
"Good point."

The men strolled around the hill with the fences and barbed wire, reaching the side of the little house that had once belonged to Ante's grand parents.

"Looks like Gus is away," Ante commented on seeing the windows of the house, all behind closed metal shutters.
"Those shutters are also part of what this guy sells, you think?" Bjorn asked.
"Probably is," Ante said with a nod. "He's basically the security installation guy. It's probably not a bad business to be in. Not in a place like this, anyway."

"Well, look at what we have here," Bjorn exclaimed on following one of the foot paths over to the front of the house. "It's the exact same armillary sphere that Frederico has in front of his church."
"It is, isn't it?" Ante agreed. "You see, they are all over the place."
"Yeah, you're right. It's a little occult and spooky, don't you think?"
"Kind of, I guess. But it doesn't bother me."

And it did not bother Bjorn either. Not there and then, anyway. However, some sort of massive propaganda was going on in the village, and although harmless at the moment, he could not quite rid himself of the thought that this could all turn pretty ugly at some point.

"And here we have the guns," Ante said, pointing towards several large posters put up along the street. "They are all to scale, and with the prices displayed under each item. Come check it out!"

Bjorn followed Ante to the posters which were all facing the street.

"So this is how Gus shows off his wares?" Bjorn commented as he turned to the front of the posters.
"Yeah, the house is too far removed from the street to have a very effective store front, so he put up these posters instead."
"That's a pretty smart move."
"It is, isn't it? People can window shop here along the street, and then go in an get the gun they want."
"Or at least have an idea what they might like, before going in to talk to Gus."
"Exactly."
"But Gus isn't here, is he?"
"Nope. Here are the opening hours. He's closed on Sundays."
"Closed and away, by the look of it."

139

The steepest part of the walk up to the ridge of the hill was over and done with right at the start of their walk, and the rest was pretty much flat all the way, with an occasional incline here and there.

The rock shielding the church to the north east could be seen in the distance, but from where they were walking nothing could be seen of the village itself. And once the apartment building disappeared out of sight behind them, the port and the control tower of the airport in the distance to the east of them were the only reminders of the civilization that they were a part of.

The walk was invigorating, and Bjorn took great pleasure in feeling the rays of the sun hit him on his back.

"It's not a bad place, is it?" Bjorn asked emphatically.
"No. Not at all," Ante agreed. "I used to go for walks here with my grandparents as a kid, you know."
"Good memories, huh?"
"Yeah. Summer up here can be pretty special."
"So, where did they live?" Bjorn asked, mildly curious.
"I'll show you. We actually drove past it on the way here."
"Really?"
"Yeah. It is now occupied by this Gus guy. He has turned the living room into a store front for his guns."
"The gun shop used to be your grandparents' home?"
"Yeah."
"And your grandparents sold their house to him?"
"No. My grandmother died a few years back. And we sold it to Jan."
"And he has sold it on to Gus?"
"Yeah, I guess so. Or he is renting it out to him."

Bjorn looked over at Ante to see if he was displaying any sense of regret, but could not decipher his expression.

"So, how does that make you feel?" Bjorn inquired. "Could have been cool to have that house now, with the village coming back to life and all."
"Yeah. But we didn't know that back then. Back then, nobody lived here except during the summer. It was like a summer house, and was hardly used at all. This place was pretty much a ghost town back then, and Jan was the only one interested in buying the property."
"You think he knew about this project even back then?" Bjorn wondered.

Ante did not answer right away.

"It's hard to say," Ante said thoughtfully. "But I don't think so."
"Why not?"
"I don't think this project was planned like years in advance."
"You don't? Why not?"
"Because... Well... It sprang out of a random constellation of circumstances."
"Huh?"
"No one was planning this thing back then. What made this happen was more like an accident. It was all about the port to start with. Then they opened the iron mine, and then there was the idea of this asylum center."
"And what's random about that."
"Well... If it was planned, wouldn't there have been other offers for the house than just Jan? Wouldn't other people be interested in buying up all this cheap land too?"
"Not if it was planned by Jan."
"Single-handedly?"
"Sure, why not?"
"Well, that's just nonsense. The whole project is a collaboration between Pedro, Mons and the foreign minister. Jan was just a lucky bystander."
"Yet, he seems awfully chummy with Pedro."
"Okay, so maybe Jan was in on it too. But they weren't planning this like years in advance. How could they?"
"So, why do you think Jan wanted to buy your grandparents' place, then, if there were no plans to do anything with the village?"

Ante was again silent for a while, figuring things out for himself.

"Because," Ante answered while still thinking. "The village always had the potential to become something. Jan was betting that something would happen, something good. And right now, it seems like his bets are about to pay off. But that does not mean that he knew exactly what would happen. All sorts of things could have happened. But with a port and an airport and even an abandoned mine and factory in the area, a revival has never been totally out of the question. And so he placed his bets accordingly. Maybe he had some vague plans relating to his casino. But even that would not have been more than a vague plan since the law allowing him to open it was not even proposed back then. And this is much bigger than his casino anyway. This is a huge thing happening here, and I seriously doubt he had it all planned out when he bought my grandparents' house."

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."

63

Bjorn looked up from his computer screen while contemplating the arguments laid out by Pedro and the stall owners. The sun setting behind the mountains to the north west of Lundby made the sky flare up in the same dramatic fashion as it had done when Bjorn first arrived at the checkpoint, less than a week ago. It was a truly impressive view. Stunning and eerily cold and indifferent, as if completely immune to anything anyone might want to do to it. Watching it from the comfort of his office chair was delightfully meditative, making his thoughts move freely from one thing to another.

Bjorn found Pedro's argument quite revealing in that it exposed a motive for Pedro's decision to go into the deal with the foreign minister in the first place. The village was at the time completely uninhabited, and it was not unreasonable of Pedro to think that his promise to maintain public properties would include a right to "tax" anyone using these properties. And with a growing population, the money he could get through taxation would increase.

However, Pedro had not actually made his claim to the public properties widely known, so it was quite understandable that the stall owners felt that they had a right to use the village square without paying any dues to Pedro. And with this in mind, Bjorn returned to the article he was reading, feeling empathy for the squatters who were fighting for their right to be left alone.

The leaflets handed out by Pedro's men had come as a complete surprise to the stall owners, and feeling threatened by Pedro's sudden land claim, some of the stall owners had immediately gone ahead and bought themselves handguns over at Gus's gun store. And shortly after, the stall owners had formed a union, agreeing to stand together against what they felt was an attempt at extortion.

The union of stall owners, with its armed members, had in turn caused concern over at the casino, which prompted Jan to arm his employees, just in case the squatters would get the idea that they could do anything they wanted now that they have banded together. But the stall owners were quick to contact Jan, assuring him that they had no other agenda than to protect their right to be left alone. And having no interest in frightening their customers they agreed among themselves that they would keep their weapons concealed, and continue their peaceful activities as if nothing had happened.

Eager to find a peaceful resolution to what could potentially lead to an ugly situation right across from his casino, Jan volunteered to act as a mediator between the stall owners and Pedro, with a further suggestion that the stall owners not only complain directly to Pedro, but also make their case public by publishing a formal statement on the Blacklist, a website specifically designed for public grievances.

And it was the public statement made on the Blacklist that had drawn the attention of the journalist to the rapidly escalating conflict. It had prompted her to go out and get the full story, interviewing both the stall owners and Jan and his people. But, unable to reach Pedro, the only statement in his defence was the short reply made by him to the formal complaint on the Blacklist. Pedro's unwavering position was that since he had taken on obligations to take care of public properties in Lundby, he had in effect also received the right to demand rent from these same properties.