Selena pointed at the end of the building. "Someone's down there."
Three men carrying guns came around the corner and moved in a crouch toward the entrance where Forsberg had gone in. Two of them had pistols. The third cradled an AK. They weren't Swedish.
"I thought the back was covered," Ronnie said.
"Probably came out a side window," Nick said. "If they go in that door, they'll be behind Forsberg's and his team. We have to stop them."
Ronnie nodded in the direction of the building. "They don't know we're here. We can take them."
Nick tugged at the scarred earlobe on his left ear.
"Let's do it. Get their weapons."
The three men were intent on reaching the nearest entrance, twenty feet away. Nick and the others were almost on them when the man carrying the AK saw them coming. He shouted a warning, aimed the rifle at Ronnie and pulled the trigger. Nothing happened. He'd forgotten the safety.
Selena knocked the gun from his hands and beat him to his knees with a flurry of blows, then kicked him hard under the chin. His head snapped back with a sharp crack as his neck broke. He fell to the ground like a puppet with cut strings.
Nick grabbed the second man's pistol as it came up. He wrapped his hand around the slide, grabbed the forearm with his other hand and pushed the gun and arm in opposite directions. The sudden movement twisted the gun sideways and bent the trigger finger at an impossible angle. It broke. The man screamed in pain. Nick kneed him in the groin and punched him on the back of the neck as he folded over.
The last man fired as Lamont knocked his arm away. The round went wide. Lamont head butted him and kicked him in the head after he was down.
The fight was over.
Three Swedes came out of the building, followed by Forsberg. He looked at the three men lying on the ground and the weapons lying beside them.
"What happened?"
Nick pointed. "Those three were getting ready to go in behind your guys. We stopped them."
"I wasn't going to bring you along. I'm glad I changed my mind. Thanks."
"Sounded like you had a hard time inside."
"They were waiting for us. Someone tipped them off."
He took out a cell phone and dialed, spoke briefly and hung up.
"Ambulances are on the way. Three of my men are down. At least a dozen foreigners."
"Hussein?"
"Dead." Forsberg took off his headgear and wiped away sweat. "This is a real mess."
"What about his buddy, Gabriel?"
"No sign of him."
Selena said, "Why turn this place into a war zone?"
"They're terrorists. They don't need an excuse."
"Maybe. Or there's something they didn't want you to find here."
"Besides the weapons they had? If there is anything, we'll find it. Do you read Arabic?"
"Yes."
"Come inside with me. There's something I want to show you."
"I'm gonna stay out here. I need the air," Lamont said.
"Likewise," Nick said.
Sirens sounded in the distance.
CHAPTER 12
Selena followed Forsberg into the building, past his men herding people out. He led her to set of rooms where bullets had splintered the wooden door frame and punched holes in the wall. To her right, a door opened onto a bedroom. To the left was a small kitchen. Ahead was a sitting area.
"In here," Forsberg said.
The sitting area contained a worn couch, a desk and a chair. Hussein lay on the floor on his back, his robe soaked in blood. His eyes were open. His turban was askew. A pistol lay by his outstretched hand. Papers lay scattered on the floor around him, in front of a fire blazing in a brick fireplace.
"I think he was going to burn those papers," Forsberg said.
Selena picked up a page. "This doesn't look like anything important. It's an invoice from a grocer in Ystad specializing in Arab foods. Where's Ystad?"
"It's a small town all the way down south, at the tip of the country. Warmer, down there."
"Don't they have Arab grocers in Stockholm?"
"Yes, several of them."
"What else is in Ystad?"
"It's a commercial and fishing port. There's ferry service to Poland and Latvia from there. Also Denmark. From Denmark, you can go anywhere in Europe."
She handed him the paper. "Why order from way down there if you can get the same thing nearby? I'll bet that's where they ship the antiquities out of Sweden."
Someone called to Forsberg.
"Let me know if you find anything else," he said. He left the room.
Selena turned her attention back to the papers scattered on the floor. There were several invoices for Arab foodstuffs from the same address, dated over the past year. She didn't find anything else that seemed important and decided to look around the building.
She passed an open door and stepped through into an apartment. No one was there. A framed picture on a side table showed the translator, Gabriel, and a woman wearing a Hijab. They stood in a city square bordered by pockmarked and shattered buildings, signs of heavy fighting. Behind Gabriel was a shop sign with a name written on it in Arabic. The picture had been taken in Mosul.
Iraq, she thought. Gabriel is from Iraq. Hussein probably was as well. Where is Gabriel, I wonder?
She opened a dresser drawer and rummaged through it. She found a cell phone stuffed under children's clothes, where someone had tried to hide it. It was a throwaway. She put it in her pocket. Nick could decide what to do with it. After poking around a while longer, she went back outside.
Several police cars had arrived. With Forsberg's men, the cops moved the occupants of the refugee asylum into groups. They stood shivering in the cold, surrounded by hostile stares. Guns were pointed at them. No one smiled.
Selena took Nick to the side and showed him the phone. "This was in Gabriel's room. Should I give it to Forsberg?"
"Let's find out what's on it first. I'll take it."
She handed him the phone. Nick dialed Virginia. Elizabeth answered.
"What is it Nick?"
"The raid went south. There was a jihadist cell inside the center, armed to the teeth. They opened up on the Swedes."
"Why did they start shooting?"
"That's what everybody wants to know. Forsberg thinks they were tipped off. Selena thinks they were hiding something. That might be, but I think they're mostly just stupid jihadists who thought this was their opportunity to meet Allah. Forsberg and his people are going over the building with a fine tooth comb."
"Will they tell you if they find something we need to know about?"
"Maybe. Maybe not. I thought I might improvise a little, just in case they don't. I have something for Stephanie. Can you put her on?"
"Wait one."
Stephanie Willits came online. Steph was a critical cog in the complex machine of Project operations. There wasn't much she couldn't do with a computer or a piece of communications gear. Satellite communications was one of her specialties. She'd helped Nick and the others out of a bad situation in the field more than once.
"What's up, Nick? Elizabeth says you guys ran into serious trouble."
"We did, but it's over now. I have a phone in my hand. I want to send you whatever is on it."
"Give me a minute," Steph said.
Nick waited while she set up the transfer.
"Okay, go ahead."
Nick plugged the cell into his satellite unit, turned on Gabriel's phone and pressed a sequence of keys. Thirty seconds later the file transfer was complete.
Stephanie said, "Got it."
"This phone belonged to one of the jihadists. He’s missing and he may have been second in command. These guys were selling looted artifacts on the black market. If something indicates Swedish involvement, Stockholm will cover it up."