Serge watched them and took out his throw away pay-as-you-go cell phone.
“Leo, get the van. They’ve gone in a bar. Gustav’s it’s called, on a narrow street Jespervej. I’m going in there.”
He entered the bar and saw them sat at a high table on two tall stools. So he ordered a beer and sat where he could keep an eye on them. The bar was quite busy but not full.
“So, Nils, tell me what all this is about?” Marjan said in her best seductive voice. “Your other work, that is, not the radar stuff you do at Weibel.”
Nils looked at his beer. “If you’re meaning the work coupled to the information I get and put out on the forums I visit, then its complex.”
“Try me.” She leaned forward and batted her eyelashes.
“Ok, you asked. It is radar related. Ever heard of quantum entanglement? Or quantum physics and its possibilities?”
“Yes, but I’ve no real idea. It’s something to do with a cat in a box being dead or alive isn’t it?”
Nils grinned. “Schrodinger’s cat. It’s dead and alive at the same time.” Marjan frowned. He gave her a weak smile. “It’s a thought experiment. It’s not about a real cat. There’s a real phenomenon called quantum entanglement.”
He looked at Marjan warily, “This is going to be weird. Quantum entanglement says that two particles can be joined so that whatever happens to one must also happen to its partner, however far apart they are. Einstein called it ‘spooky action at a distance’. This happens instantly too. From here across the room or from here to a distant star, it doesn’t matter.”
“That’s rubbish, Nils.”
“It’s not, it’s real and proven.”
“Ok, so what has that got to do with what you’re doing and why the Russian intel people are interested?”
“I’ve made a huge breakthrough. I’ve been working on quantum radar and it’s regarding that. I’ll have to explain using some technical concepts. The device solves what computer science calls an ‘NP-complete’ problem: that’s a problem that’s impossible or nearly impossible to calculate on a classical device. Entangling allows the absorption spectrum and the resolution limit of quantum radar systems to be selected independently of one another. So, while current radar systems must compromise between range and resolution, quantum radar systems can simultaneously achieve the low attenuation/high range associated with a long wavelength and the high resolution associated with a short wavelength.”
“Give me the quick version,” said Marjan.
“A quantum radar could see through the background or camouflaging, through plasma shrouds around hypersonic air vehicles, through concealments hiding underground facilities, finding IEDs, mines and other threats. Aircraft, ships or missiles, of course, that would be chicken feed.” Nils grinned. “The big deal with all this is that the quantum radar source is undetectable.”
“What do they give you to smoke at Weibel? You’re on something, Nils. You’re telling me this radar can see anything and be invisible to the thing you’re looking at?”
“It’s more complex than that. But yes, in short, that’s about it.”
Marjan shook her head. “Fuck me.”
“Quantum radar can’t do that I’m afraid.” Nils laughed. “There’s more work to be done yet, but it’ll work. I’ve given it a name,” Nils said sheepishly.
“Go on.”
“I’ve called it the Eye of Ra. After the Ancient Egyptian Eye of Ra. It’s believed to be an all-seeing force that uses violence to subdue and control its enemies.”
Marjan smiled. “I can see why they’re after you. You’re either a genius or a nut job.”
Serge’s cell phone received a text message. That meant Leo was ready outside. He took out a map of Denmark and walked over to the couple sat on the tall stools.
“Excuse. I’m lost here. From Latvia, can you help? I need go to Odense city by car. Can you show? Outside?”
Nils took the map. “You need to get onto the E20. Come on.”
They stepped outside, and Leo climbed out of the van. The map was opened, and Nils started to explain the route. Marjan felt it first. A hand came around her head and closed over her mouth with a fabric pad. She smelt it. She knew it was a drug to render her unconscious. Marjan saw the other man had Nils in a similar grip, and she struggled. If she could just reach her leg scabbard and the knife. Marjan tried not to breathe the fumes.
“Titkofef.”
Someone pulled the hand holding the pad from her mouth. A man with glasses and blond curly hair stood before her, raised his pistol and shot the man holding the pad in the head with a silenced round. His colleague pulled the other man from Nils. The blond man put his gun to the struggling man’s knee and fired. He screamed and fell to the floor.
“Now, who are you?” demanded the man with the gun. He moved the gun to the man’s groin. The man with the shattered knee shuddered in terror.
“No, don’t, please.”
“Who are you?”
“Russian.”
The pistol pushed into the man’s groin.
“SVR, we are SVR. Don’t shoot.”
The man with the gun moved his aim to the Russian’s head and fired two rounds into his forehead.
He looked at Nils and Marjan. “Come.”
The blond man with the pistol pointed to a nondescript VW waiting nearby. The four of them got in and the car drove off.
“Fucking SVR, cruel bastards,” said the man who’d shot the last Russian.
“You shot them,” laughed Marjan.
“Yeah, well, they deserved it. You two need to get out of here.” He reached into the car’s glovebox. “Here, these passports will do. We’ll take you to the airport. Go anywhere in Europe. Get the first flight tonight and then get a flight from wherever you are to Oslo. You’ll be met there by one of us.”
Nils sat and watched the familiar Danish town pass by as they headed for the major highway. This last twenty four hours was mind blowing. A girl who hinted she was Mossad, he knew their reputation, and now shootings on the town’s streets. Russians were out to get him. This can’t be happening. The trouble is, it was.
“Where are we going?” he asked.
“Away,” said the driver. Nils looked at Marjan. She was a gorgeous looker. Mossad? He shook his head.
“Marjan, this sort of thing doesn’t happen. Not to me.”
She smirked at him. “Blame your brain. It got you into this shit.”
“You said we’ll be met by one of us. Who’s we?” Nils asked.
Marjan laughed. “Nils, haven’t you figured it out? You were rescued by the Mossad.”
The blond man turned and looked over his shoulder at the Dane. “You’re on a trip, my friend. Where?” He shrugged. “Just thank God it’s not Siberia.”
3
Marjan looked out of the window at the snow-covered homes and factories of the passing landscape below. The Finnair A321 was on finals for Gardermoen Airport.
At immigration, they showed their Polish passports and were admitted. They’d no luggage and so took the train into the city.
The two of them left the train and walked onto the modern concourse.
“Well, where are they? Your men?”
“They’ll be here somewhere,” she said. “Let’s get a coffee.”
They walked into a station cafe and ordered. Nils got a coffee and a fried egg sandwich.
Several minutes later, a young woman in ripped denims and a Greenpeace tee-shirt walked up to the table. “Is this free? Can I sit?”
Marjan looked up in concern. “Hmm, we are meeting someone soon. He’s not here yet.”