The Complete Game Trilogy: Game, Buzz, Bubble. Литагент HarperCollins USD

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got rid of Dad’s stuff just after he died, when they moved into the city.

      The Salvation Army had picked up the lot, every last thing. He definitely didn’t need any reminders of the old bastard and what he had done.

      Looking in the mirror was more than enough …

      No, there was really only one thing in the flat that he was worried about, something he’d rather not have Becca snooping about in. But he didn’t have much choice. Even if she did find the box, she wouldn’t realize, or at least he hoped not.

      She was okay, Becca, as far as sisters go. More than okay, actually … Even if she was always getting at him, she stepped up whenever it really mattered.

      Watching his back …

      She’d always done that, ever since they were little and he … well … he loved her for it.

      Obviously that was the case, even if he was reluctant to admit it. Becca was the only family he had, actually the only person who had ever behaved like someone who was family ought to. The only fixed point in his life. In fact, he’d do almost anything for her if she asked …

      Bloody hell, that sounded wet!

      He’d never dream of saying anything like that to her face. He actually felt a bit embarrassed just thinking stuff like that, but maybe it wasn’t so weird that he was getting a bit soppy now that it was time to leave his homeland for good?

      Sollentuna flew past on the right-hand side and he slouched down in his seat to try to get comfortable. He’d already scanned his fellow passengers a couple of times and none of them looked suspicious. To be on the safe side, he’d pulled his usual 007 stunt when he reached Central Station, and had waited until the very last minute before racing for the airport bus. No-one had followed him, he was sure of that.

      But on the other hand, maybe they didn’t need to shadow him? According to Erman, they were everywhere. Hundreds, maybe thousands of little Ant-eyes looking out for him, sweeping their mobiles over people’s faces until the face-recognition app found a match. And suddenly he was a red dot on a map! Hadn’t the bus driver given him a strange look when he got on? What about little miss businesswoman behind him, sitting there fiddling with her Blackberry? He could feel his pulse rate going up and closed his eyes for a few seconds.

      Just calm down, HP, you’ve been doing this shit for too long! Your brain just sees what it wants to see, so leave off wanting to see this sort of bollocks and get a fucking grip!

      He took a couple of deep breaths and then opened his eyes.

      Everything was fine. There was nothing to worry about. He was on his way to leaving the Game, putting this crap behind him and starting a whole new chapter. Disappearing under the radar and becoming a ghost-rider. So why couldn’t he put his mind to rest? Probably because there was something in all the crap that was still sticking out, something he hadn’t fixed.

      Somewhere near Bredden he worked out what it was. A quick call to Becca from his new mobile, it was worth the risk. He was going to switch when he got to Thailand anyway. And he had to know, had to be properly sure. That she’d be safe. Out of harm’s way.

      She picked up at once.

      ‘Rebecca Normén.’

      ‘It’s me. A quick question.’

      ‘Okay, but it’ll have to be really quick, I’m at work, things are a bit …’

      ‘The mobile, the one you picked up from Manga. What did you do with it?’

      He held his breath.

      ‘I booked it into lost property, it’ll be there until they can trace the owner.’

      ‘Great!’ he breathed out.

      Everything was fine, time to round it all off. Now he could exit with a clear conscience.

      ‘I was just worried you might have kept it or something …’

      ‘No, it’s down in the store. Apparently it was reported stolen by some company out in the Western District, according to the IMEI number. Some telecoms company, I think it was. Anyway, I thought you were on your way out of the country?’

      Suddenly he sat up in his seat.

      ‘I am. You don’t happen to remember what the company was called?’

      ‘No, not really, something short. I’ve got it written in my pad, but that’s down in my locker …’

      He could hear voices in the background.

      ‘Listen, I’m about to get in the lift so we’ll be cut off. I can text you the name in a minute if it’s important?’

      ‘Sure, no problem, you’ve got my new number now …’ he muttered as thoughts flew round his head.

      ‘Well, bye, Becca!’

      ‘Bye, Henke, look after yourself.’

      The call was cut off abruptly. The thoughts had time to start whirling again before his mobile bleeped. He didn’t really need to open the message to read the address of the company. The crumpled up note he’d got off Erman the other day was enough.

      Torshamnsgatan 142, Kista. Acme Telecom Services Ltd

      And all of a sudden he was nowhere near as sure that he really wanted to stop.

       16

       Who is playing who?

      She’d reached the third bend when it happened. She was going about a hundred and had just got past the obstacle when the front tyre blew and the steering wheel began to shudder madly in her hands.

      Even though she had been expecting it, her pulse was racing as she struggled to regain control of the vehicle. Braking hard, the jolt on the pedal telling her that the ABS was working.

      ‘Stop the skid, steer into the direction you want to go in, don’t fight it,’ the instructor said beside her.

      When the car had stopped at the side of the road she realized she was wet with sweat.

      ‘Good! No problems at all, Normén!’ the instructor summarized.

      She nodded in response and tried to look calm and composed.

      Driving instruction out at Tullinge airfield was obligatory, so she just had to grit her teeth and get through it even if her heart had started doing panic-stricken somersaults in her chest the moment she sat in the driver’s seat.

      The tyre blow-out at speed was the last task of the day, and she’d be heading home immediately after the debrief. Which suited her fine.

      Kruse was better, considerably better, in fact. It looked like he was going to make a full recovery.

      It was a hell of a relief, and made everything a bit easier to cope with, now that she knew who had thrown the stone through the windscreen, and possibly even why. But obviously she couldn’t tell anyone that whole story about the Game. Not even Anderberg would manage to stay quiet about something like that, she was sure of that.

      So she’d just have to deal with her demons the way she always had. With shock therapy.

      What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger, and all that macho bullshit … If you were terrified, you ought to join the police. If you felt insecure, you should become a bodyguard, and if you had a car-crash you just had to jump back in the driving seat as soon as you could. Take the bull by the horns and put your foot hard on the pedal.

      Yippikayee! as Henke would have put it.

      She wondered what he was doing now?

      He


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