is reliable, can take most kinds of ammunition. And then she had a Stechkin APS with a Makarov magazine. Not everyone would choose that weapon, but I know it better than I know my own cock. The fact is that I got a little nostalgic in a way that suited the mission
.
I would finish the job when the opportunity arose. I knew that it could take weeks, but now I was prepared materially once again. And I wasn’t planning on taking more risks like the one with the cleaning lady
.
In my business, we don’t think like other people. We act according to our own set of rules. I think that’s how we’re made. We are solitary authorities. We can’t change. That is our strength. Like Alexander Solonik—may he rest in peace—used to say,
“Eto vasja sudba”—
“It is your fate.”
I was ready now
.
I would eliminate Radovan Kranjic
.
6
Natalie was sitting in the passenger seat next to Stefanovic. New car smell, tan seats in luxury leather, built-in media system in the middle console, and a crucifix dangling in the rearview mirror.
Dad was riding in a different car. That’s how he wanted it. Dad’s business didn’t always exactly conform to Swedish government regulations. And sometimes he was forced to get tough with people who tried to pull a fast one on him—so there were people out there who didn’t like him at all. But all this about riding in different cars seemed over the top.
Stefanovic was driving in a relaxed manner, one hand in his lap and the other resting lightly on the steering wheel. Natalie and Stefanovic used to sit the opposite way—her behind the wheel and him beside her. Stefanovic’d been one of the people who taught her to drive a year and a half ago, when she’d slaved away to get her license. Total: more than seventy classes at the driving school, and probably more than a hundred with Stefanovic. Lollo laughed her ass off every time they talked about it. But then Natalie passed the test on her first try—Louise had to try four times before she nailed it.
They were on their way to an MMA gala at the Globe Arena: Extreme Affliction Heroes. Natalie’d been to a few other K1 and boxing events, but never MMA.
“Before, everyone talked about K1, but now the UFC hysteria’s hit Sweden,” Stefanovic said. “We’re in on twenty-five percent of this gala and twenty-five percent of one of the gyms. There are UFC-signed fighters here today. But our guys kick ass.”
It was hilarious when Stefanovic tried to use expressions that he thought were young and hip. Like
kick ass
—seriously, it sounded just as funny as when Mom said her new Chloé shoes were “to die for.”
“It’s the first time,” he went on, “that Extreme Affliction Heroesare up in an arena as big as the Globe. It’s the next big sport in this country.”
They drove over the bridge from Södermalm to Gullmarsplan. Natalie gazed out the window. The water looked like gray sheet metal. It was raining. Again. A spring almost entirely without sun.
Natalie’s rabbit fur vest was in the backseat. She was wearing a Swarovski necklace and a white ruffled shirt from Marc Jacobs that she’d borrowed from Louise. She was wearing jeans that she’d bought at Artilleri2, a pair of Victoria Beckham Wide Leg in dark indigo blue. She was relaxed enough to fit in at the gala. Her dark hair was pulled back in a ponytail. She examined herself in the rearview mirror—met her own brown eyes and long lashes.
The Globe Arena was glowing in the distance—purple and blue spotlights were supposed to make it nicer than it actually was. Natalie remembered the outdoor lighting in Paris. The French knew how to illuminate a city at night—spotlights aimed at majestic facades.
They drew closer, looked for the parking signs. Drove in under the Globe. A massive parking garage. A green Volvo pulled in after them. A common color these days?
Viktor’d wanted to come along to the gala. But Dad’d deemed it not appropriate. That was all right with
.
I would finish the job when the opportunity arose. I knew that it could take weeks, but now I was prepared materially once again. And I wasn’t planning on taking more risks like the one with the cleaning lady
.
In my business, we don’t think like other people. We act according to our own set of rules. I think that’s how we’re made. We are solitary authorities. We can’t change. That is our strength. Like Alexander Solonik—may he rest in peace—used to say,
“Eto vasja sudba”—
“It is your fate.”
I was ready now
.
I would eliminate Radovan Kranjic
.
6
Natalie was sitting in the passenger seat next to Stefanovic. New car smell, tan seats in luxury leather, built-in media system in the middle console, and a crucifix dangling in the rearview mirror.
Dad was riding in a different car. That’s how he wanted it. Dad’s business didn’t always exactly conform to Swedish government regulations. And sometimes he was forced to get tough with people who tried to pull a fast one on him—so there were people out there who didn’t like him at all. But all this about riding in different cars seemed over the top.
Stefanovic was driving in a relaxed manner, one hand in his lap and the other resting lightly on the steering wheel. Natalie and Stefanovic used to sit the opposite way—her behind the wheel and him beside her. Stefanovic’d been one of the people who taught her to drive a year and a half ago, when she’d slaved away to get her license. Total: more than seventy classes at the driving school, and probably more than a hundred with Stefanovic. Lollo laughed her ass off every time they talked about it. But then Natalie passed the test on her first try—Louise had to try four times before she nailed it.
They were on their way to an MMA gala at the Globe Arena: Extreme Affliction Heroes. Natalie’d been to a few other K1 and boxing events, but never MMA.
“Before, everyone talked about K1, but now the UFC hysteria’s hit Sweden,” Stefanovic said. “We’re in on twenty-five percent of this gala and twenty-five percent of one of the gyms. There are UFC-signed fighters here today. But our guys kick ass.”
It was hilarious when Stefanovic tried to use expressions that he thought were young and hip. Like
kick ass
—seriously, it sounded just as funny as when Mom said her new Chloé shoes were “to die for.”
“It’s the first time,” he went on, “that Extreme Affliction Heroesare up in an arena as big as the Globe. It’s the next big sport in this country.”
They drove over the bridge from Södermalm to Gullmarsplan. Natalie gazed out the window. The water looked like gray sheet metal. It was raining. Again. A spring almost entirely without sun.
Natalie’s rabbit fur vest was in the backseat. She was wearing a Swarovski necklace and a white ruffled shirt from Marc Jacobs that she’d borrowed from Louise. She was wearing jeans that she’d bought at Artilleri2, a pair of Victoria Beckham Wide Leg in dark indigo blue. She was relaxed enough to fit in at the gala. Her dark hair was pulled back in a ponytail. She examined herself in the rearview mirror—met her own brown eyes and long lashes.
The Globe Arena was glowing in the distance—purple and blue spotlights were supposed to make it nicer than it actually was. Natalie remembered the outdoor lighting in Paris. The French knew how to illuminate a city at night—spotlights aimed at majestic facades.
They drew closer, looked for the parking signs. Drove in under the Globe. A massive parking garage. A green Volvo pulled in after them. A common color these days?
Viktor’d wanted to come along to the gala. But Dad’d deemed it not appropriate. That was all right with
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