“Then I’ve got something. Okay, it’s messy, I’ll have to dig more, but here’s the general shape of it. SOR is short for the Sons of Ragnar. That’s a reference to Ragnar Lodbrok, a Viking hero.”
“I’ve seen that show, Vikings,” Crowley said. “They fans too?”
“No, don’t get sidetracked by pop culture.”
Crowley laughed. “Mate, I’m joking. I’m a historian too, remember?”
“Right. Well, shut up and listen then. The Sons of Ragnar still worship the old Norse gods. They’re trying to bring that worship back into the mainstream. They want to make the Norse religion the official national religion of Scandinavia, and reunite all the Scandinavian countries back into a single kingdom.”
“A kingdom? Like with a king. Not a unified republic?”
“Wait, reading.” Cameron breathed down the line for a moment and Crowley watched the streets of Rome slide by out the window, then the cab moved onto the highway heading for the airport.
“Okay,” Cameron said. “It’s all a bit complicated. They want a united Scandinavia, no longer any part of Europe, to be run like a kingdom but with an elected council in charge. They’ve got a secret draft charter that we’ve managed to get hold of. It would take me too long to read through it all now, but I can send it to you. Anyway, the upshot is that it’s not just some band of hippy cranks with delusions of pagan glory.”
“No kidding!” Crowley said. “The kind of people coming after us have been well organized and well-armed.”
“Right. And they’re well backed. The Sons of Ragnar is controlled and bankrolled by businessmen mostly, a band of very wealthy people. Some politicians are cozying up to them too, if our intel is to be trusted. Which it usually is. That means they have all kinds of power structures available to them. And it’s all managed by one man in particular, an incredibly wealthy businessman.”
“Let me guess,” Crowley said. “His name is Landvik?”
“You got it. Halvdan Landvik. A notoriously xenophobic man, very well known in Norway for his brutal and cut-throat corporate methods. He’s powerful, with many powerful friends. I got a picture of him here, I’ll send it over. Tall guy, something like six-three, fit and strong, in his mid-forties. It’s not public that he’s in charge of the SOR, of course, but that’s what all our intel points to. His full name is Halvdan Ragnar Landvik, if you believe that, and he runs the SOR from its secret base on the island of Björkö, in Sweden, not far from the archeological site of Birka.”
Crowley nodded to himself. This was why it always paid to have informed friends to help decode information gathered by unpleasant means. “You think the site, this Birka place, is relevant?”
“Relevant to what, mate? I’m not sure what it is you’re up to. But you know what? This is a pretty interesting place. Björkö means ‘Birch Island’, and it’s only about thirty kilometers from Stockholm, in Lake Mälaren. Back in the day it was an important trading center, used for goods from all over Scandinavia and Central and Eastern Europe, and the Orient too. Birka, on the other side of the island, is a significant archaeological site with loads of Viking lore attached to it. It’s been a UNESCO World Heritage Site since 1993. According to this, a silver ring from a Viking-era grave in Birka is the first with an Arabic inscription from that era ever found in Scandinavia. Think about the significance of that! I’ll send all this info over to you. Well, the relevant parts at least.”
Crowley blew out a long breath. What did it all mean? It was fascinating stuff, but how did it relate to Rose? He thought about her birthmark, like the result of the blood eagle torture. And didn’t Ragnar Lodbrok die that way? He’d need to check his history books again, but it was all too far-fetched and complicated to figure out now. Regardless, whatever the deeper reasoning, he had a lead. “Bless you, Cam. You’re worth your weight in gold. Looks like I’m going to Sweden then. Can you figure out the best way for me to get to this island of Björkö? I’ll fly to Stockholm on the next plane out of Rome.”
There was silence from the other end for a moment.
“Cameron? You still there?”
“You’re really going up against this Landvik and his people?”
“Don’t try to lecture me now, Cam. I don’t have any choice. He’s got Rose and I don’t think he means to treat her well.”
“And you say you’re enjoying a bit of action in the field again?” There was a slight longing in Cameron’s voice now.
Crowley laughed. “Sitting at a desk starting to get to you, mate?”
“You fly to Stockholm, Jake. I’ll meet you there.”
Chapter 37
Rose had no concept of how much time had passed. The drug had worn off slowly, leaving her muddle-headed for a long time, but she had regained her senses and her fury focused as her thoughts did. Still tied to the dentist’s chair, she had been moved into more of a sitting position and the pressure of the bindings had eased marginally. She still couldn’t move much, but at least her blood flowed.
The large blond man returned, carrying a covered plate. She smelled the hot food immediately, rich and savory, and her mouth watered instantly. She realized she was famished.
“You will need your strength,” the man said. “Eat.”
“You going to feed me like a baby, or do I get a hand free to hold my own fork?”
He smiled and slit one binding with a shiny silver pocket knife, then handed her a plastic fork. He set the plate on her lap and stepped away.
Rose set the metal covering aside and saw a large pile of stew, chunks of lean-looking red meat, carrots, potatoes, peas. It smelled amazing and, despite her reservations, she dug in. The first few mouthfuls she barely chewed, and as they hit her stomach she slowed down, took a few breaths and began to eat more normally. She needed to make a break for it, but she would eat first. She needed the strength.
“My name is Karl,” the blond man said while she silently shoveled the food in. “Once you have finished your meal, you will be untied and taken outside. A vehicle is waiting there, and you are to be transported somewhere else. If you comply, it will all go more easily for you.”
Rose’s stomach turned, a wave of nausea threatening to send the meal straight back up again. “Easier for me? Seriously? This is my last meal and you want me to be a meek little lamb?”
Karl frowned. “Not your last meal.”
“You said there’s something inside me and you have to take it out. I can’t see that going particularly well for me, can you?”
Karl shrugged, looked away. “It’s not like that. The process will be… unpleasant, perhaps. That’s all.”
Rose swore at him and went back to cramming food into herself, desperate only for the energy it would give her. Once she scraped her plate clean, the man rose and moved toward her. He took the plate and held out his other hand. Rose stared at him.
Karl sighed. “The fork, please?”
Rose sneered and handed it over. “A plastic fork?”
“You kept it, didn’t you? Thought maybe you could do something with it? Honestly, I respect you for trying, but I have a job to do. Now, I’m going to untie you. Please don’t do anything stupid.”
“You’re confident, here on your own with little old me,” Rose said, giving Karl a sarcastic smile.
He stopped, stood up again and looked down at her. “There are others outside. Should I call them in?”
Rose deflated in the chair. “No. Fine.” At least now she knew for sure that he wasn’t alone, but she didn’t know how quickly the people outside might respond. Or if she could get by them. But forewarned was forearmed.