Page 136 of Hidden in Memories
“If you’re lying to me, then it’s Filip who will pay.”
“I promise we’re not going to try anything,” Hanna assures him quickly.
And then, before he can reply, the connection is broken.
109
Hanna is waiting for a new phone to arrive. Someone has given her a chocolate cookie, which she is munching in order to give herself some energy. Every muscle aches from the tension of the last few hours.
Filip’s life is in her hands.
She must not fail.
The door opens, and in comes Jonas Höglid, the leader of the SWAT team. He is well over six feet tall, and his heavy uniform and sturdy body armor make him appear even bigger. He looks at Hanna as if she were an object to be assessed.
“The best thing would be to separate the perpetrator from the hostage,” he says in a matter-of-fact tone. “If you could persuade Mogren to come down to the entrance, my team can go in the back way with tear gas.”
The suggestion stresses Hanna out. If Mogren realizes he is under attack, anything could happen.
Daniel is also skeptical. “That carries a significant risk. If he works out what we’re doing, then ...”
Jonas runs a hand over his shaven head. “The other alternative is to lure him to a window so we can get a clear shot.”
“We need to carry on negotiating,” Hanna says firmly. “However long it takes.”
A few more hours won’t matter if it saves a human life.
“We need to prioritize measures that will reduce violence,” she continues. “I think we should keep talking to him.”
She looks to Daniel for support, but Jonas is hard to convince. “It’s well below freezing out there. My team’s combat-readiness is dropping with every hour that passes. We can’t wait around indefinitely.”
A colleague comes into the motor home to inform them that a fully charged phone has been sent into the hotel. He gives Hanna the new number on a piece of paper. She holds it in her hand. It is as light as a feather, but it feels like a ton weight.
This could be the key to a peaceful resolution.
Or a catastrophe.
“I trust you, Hanna,” Daniel says. “You can do this.”
He gives her an encouraging nod, and she manages a wan smile in return. She is both exhausted and full of adrenaline.
It isn’t over yet.
It won’t be over for a long time.
“Okay, we go again,” she says, calling the number.
110
The shuffling footsteps on the stairs terrify Filip.
As long as he was alone in the bar, at least he was unharmed. He has waited and waited, hoping that the police will rescue him. Instead his kidnapper seems to be on the way back.
Filip still has no idea who he might be, but those approaching footsteps fill him with fear.
A middle-aged man appears in the doorway. He has dark hair and narrow eyes, with a big belly beneath a thick, scruffy sweater.
He looks big and strong.
