Chapter 66
66
After waking up with a hangover from hell the next morning, I dealt with a few loose ends. I sold my motorcycle to another guy in the unit for $200 and gave away anything I couldn’t fit into two duffel bags.
Then I boarded a bus to the civilian airport at Linköping and got on a plane to Amsterdam.
This time, though, I didn’t immediately catch another plane to London.
Instead, I went to visit Gunnar.
As promised, he’d moved to Amsterdam after he got out of the service. I figured I’d hang out with him for a day or two before going to London.
He’d been super enthusiastic when I’d called him – “Sure, my brother, come stay with me as long as you want p>
But as soon as I saw him at the airport, I did a doubletake.
Holy SHIT had he gone downhill.
In the months since I’d seen him, he must have gained 40 pounds of belly fat.
Rachel had once said that Gunnar reminded her of the Dude from The Big Lebowski, mostly because of his beard. Now, he looked the part even more because of his weight. His clothes added to the effect: zip-up cardigan, dirty t-shirt, and pajama bottoms. Plus his beard had gone wild.
“Lars!” he cried out cheerfully. “Good to see you, my brother p>
“Hey, Gunnar,” I said, slapping his back as I hugged him. “Good to see you, too p>
“Any other luggage p>
“This is it p>
“Alright, then – let’s go p>
We caught a taxi and headed for his place. During the drive, I kept our discussion confined to our former unit and how the guys were all doing. Anytime Gunnar asked how I’d gotten out early, I promised I’d tell him later. I wasn’t about to discuss it in front of a taxi driver.
The cab dropped us off in front of Gunnar’s apartment building, an old stone building near the red-light district.
As soon as he opened the door to his apartment, the stench of marijuana slammed into me. It permeated the entire room.
The place was a disaster, with bongs, plastic baggies full of pot, and greasy fast food wrappers littering every surface. The furniture included a faux leather recliner, a threadbare couch, a couple of end tables with lamps, a rickety wooden table with two chairs, and an overstuffed bean bag.
One part of the room, though, looked unlike everything else: a computer workstation.
Five monitors sat in a semi-circle atop a desk. On the floor was a computer tower with cables spilling out of it. An expensive-looking computer gaming chair sat in front of it all.
“Throw your bags anywhere, bro!” Gunnar said as he cracked open a beer and held it out. After I took it, he grabbed the nearest bong and lighter. “You want some? They have the best shit in the world here in Amsterdam p>
“No, I’m good. Could we have a quick discussion before you start smoking out p>
“Sure – what’s up p>
“You mentioned you got a job working for a defense contractor. How’s that going p>
“It’s going great, bro! They let me work from home, and they don’t care about my ‘extracurricular activities p>
He chortled as he gestured to the bong.
“What do you do for them?” I asked.
“Forensic hacking p>
“…what p>
“I try to hack their systems and find weaknesses and shit. Wanna see my rig?” he asked as he waddled over to the computer. “It’s super sweet p>
“Do you only hack the company you work for, or – ”
“Naah, my employer works with a bunch of other defense companies, so I’m usually trying to hack them, too p>
Gunnar typed in a password that seemed to be a hundred characters long. Suddenly, the monitors flickered to life with a stream of numbers and letters straight out of THE MATRIX. I stared at them, completely unable to comprehend what I was seeing.
“So… you’re pretty good at this, then p>
“Dude, I’m one of the best. When I’m really baked, I’m a freakin’ genius p>
“Could you hack anybody? Like… MI6 p>
Gunnar swiveled around slowly in his chair. “Um… why would you want me to hack MI6, exactly p>
“I’m going to tell you something, but I need you to swear that it never leaves this room p>
“Lemme see your phone first p>
“What p>
“Gimme your phone p>
I handed it over. He reached into one of the desk drawers and pulled out a small black bag, unzipped it, placed my phone inside, then zipped it up again.
“Okay, go ahead,” he said cheerfully.
“What was that about p>
“Faraday pouch,” he explained as he held the bag up. “Blocks all electromagnetic transmissions. You know they can access your microphones and listen in on everything, right? Even when the phone’s off p>
I stared at him in shock. “You’re kidding p>
“Nope. The Americans got into trouble for it a few years ago. Spying on their citizens and shit. Sweden’s doing it, too, just on a more limited basis. But if you wanna talk about hacking MI6, best to use a Faraday bag and make sure nobody’s listening p>
“Okay…” I said, slightly bewildered.
“Is this about Rachel?” Gunnar asked. “She works for MI6, right p>
“Yes – ”
“How’s that going p>
“Fantastic. That’s why I’m moving to London, so I can be with her p>
“That’s great, bro!” Gunnar said with a gigantic smile.
“Thanks. But I need you to swear that this conversation won’t ever be mentioned anywhere else p>
“Okay,” he said cheerfully.
“I’m serious, Gunnar p>
He beamed. “So am I p>
I hesitated… then decided that if Swedish defense contractors trusted him with their secrets, I could, too.
Either that or the defense contractors and I were both fucked.
“I got recruited by a guy in MI6 named Alistair Webb. I’m not supposed to tell Rachel or anybody else – ”
“And you told me?! I’m honored, my dude p>
“…you’re welcome,” I muttered. “Anyway, he’s the one who got me out with an honorable discharge p>
“Wow! How’d he do that p>
“Through MUST p>
Gunnar whistled. He knew the acronym for Swedish Intelligence; everybody who’d served in Special Forces did. “Daaaamn… dude must have some pull p>
“Yeah, but I want to know who I’m getting into bed with. I tried Googling him but couldn’t find anything p>
Gunnar chuckled good-naturedly. “You already made a deal with the devil, but you want to look into him now p>
“Yes,” I said, annoyed. “Can you do it but keep it quiet? I can’t have him find out that we’re poking around p>
“You want me to hack into one of the most powerful intelligence agencies in the world… look for dirt on a dude in one of their most classified departments… and do it without anybody finding out? That’s what you’re asking me to do p>
When he said it like that, it sounded ridiculous.
“…yeah,” I said hesitantly. “Can you do it p>
“Sure!” he said brightly. “I figure it’ll take me… oh… three or four months to do it right, so neither one of us goes to prison for the rest of our lives p>
My shoulders sagged.
“Or,” he said as he turned to the monitor, “I could just ask my MI6 homies if they know about this Alistair dude p>
I stared at him in shock, unsure I’d heard him correctly.
“Wait – what p>
“Oh, yeah, man – I got homies in all the major agencies in the world,” Gunnar said as he banged on the keyboard at a million miles an hour. “They all talk to each other, you know. I met most of ‘em in cannabis chatrooms p>
“…how is that even remotely safe p>
“What, you mean like if there was a North Korean mole or something? After you work in intel for a while, you kind of learn the secret handshake. You do the little dance, you feel each other out, you doublecheck each other’s bona fides… and if everything’s kosher, you’re all good p>
“But you met them in cannabis chatrooms p>
He chuckled. “You wouldn’t believe how many potheads there are in the intelligence community. Chills ‘em out enough to deal with all the fucked-up shit p>
I shook my head at the sheer bizarreness of what Gunnar was telling me. Hundreds of people smoking out and acting as back-channels to the most powerful government agencies in the world?
Insane.
…but it was a hell of a lot quicker than three or four months of hacking.
There was just one problem.
“You’ve got to keep this incredibly quiet, though,” I insisted.
“Okay,” Gunnar answered nonchalantly.
“These ‘MI6 homies’ of yours, they can’t let Alistair know that they’re – ”
“I think you need some bong time, dude,” Gunnar said cheerfully. “You want a hit p>
“No p>
“Then drink some beer, because you’re stressing the fuck out over nothing.” Gunnar smiled as he continued to type. “We help each other out on stuff all the time, bro – shit that could start World War III if anybody knew about it. Has World War III started yet p>
“No – ”
“Exactly. So chill out.” Almost as an afterthought, he asked, “What’s the job you’re gonna do for this Alistair guy p>
I hesitated about telling him, then decided he’d seen enough combat not to be shocked. “Assassinations p>
Gunnar stopped typing…
Paused for a couple of seconds…
Then slowly looked over at me.
It was the first time I’d seen true shock on his face in a long, long time.
“It’s what I do now,” I pointed out. “It’s what you did in Afghanistan p>
“I killed terrorists, bro.” He was no longer cheerful.
“You killed whoever the military told you to kill,” I said, then realized I was basically just parroting Alistair.
“I killed people who were shooting at me, dude,” Gunnar said with a slight scowl. “Are the people you kill gonna be shooting back p>
“If Command told us to take out the leader of a Taliban cell without anybody knowing we were there, and nobody was shooting at us – would you do it p>
Gunnar grumbled a little. “Are you gonna kill bad guys, at least p>
“Of course. Arms dealers, terrorists, organized crime figures – ”
“I kinda work for an arms dealer, dude p>
“Rogue arms dealers p>
“Kind of depends on who’s defining the ‘rogue’ part…” Gunnar muttered.
“Which is why I want more information on this Alistair guy. I need to know what I’m getting myself into – without him knowing about it p>
“Alright. Let me see what my homies in MI6 can tell us p>
“Gunnar – ”
“On the down-low, yes, yes,” he said, his voice finally becoming cheerful again as he turned back to his keyboard. “Calm down, Grandma. It’s gonna be fine p>