He fought back tears and smiled weakly. “That would be nice, actually.”
“Just let me put the rest of this away, and we’ll head out,” said Klara.
At least this way, I can find out what happened, and how much the soldiers know, she thought.
The fluorescent lights in the hospital hallway buzzed faintly overhead, their sterile glow casting long shadows down polished floors. Klara followed Lars past the reception desk and toward the observation wing where the Home Guard soldiers had been admitted.
The place smelled like antiseptic and recycled air. Lars walked quickly, fists clenched, his face pale and tight. Room 212 was just ahead.
Inside, two soldiers were already awake and propped up in their beds, IV drips attached to their arms. Both looked up as Lars entered — then visibly relaxed.
“Lasse!” one of them called, voice hoarse but eager. “Hell, man, you should’ve seen it.”
Lars smiled tightly and crossed the room. “You scared the crap out of us, Niklas. You look like a bomb hit you.”
Niklas gave a weak laugh. “Close enough.”
The other soldier, who Klara recalled was named Jonsson, was watching her with vague recognition. “Hey. Klara, right? From the energy thing? Weren’t you at Lars’s birthday party?” he asked.
“I was,” she said, keeping her tone warm but neutral. “I’m so sorry you’re both here. We heard it was bad.”
Niklas gestured toward the third bed, its curtain drawn and lined with medical monitors that hummed softly. “It was worse for Kalle. They don’t know if he’s going to pull through. Internal bleeding, shrapnel… he was closest to whatever blew.”
Lars swallowed hard. “What the hell happened?”
Jonsson shook his head. “We saw some strange markings in a restricted woodland plot — chalk lines, I think. We got closer and saw someone burying a disc of some kind near a service road. We went to check it out, but the person was way deep in the woods before we could get to them. Kalle was inspecting the edge of the device when it blew. I swear, there wasn’t even a trip wire.”
“It wasn’t some buried artillery shell?” Lars asked.
“No way,” Niklas answered. “It wasn’t old. Looked like a fresh plant job. Modern casing.”
Jonsson nodded. “We were just doing recon, man. Nothing aggressive. No digging. It still went off.”
Klara fought to keep her expression composed. She folded her hands in front of her coat to hide her trembling fingers.
“What do the police say?” Lars asked.
“They’re treating it like sabotage, maybe terrorism,” said Niklas. “They’ve cordoned the area and called in the bomb squad from Stockholm.”
Jonsson added, “But nobody knows who placed it. No cameras. Just started to look at it, and then boom.”
Klara exhaled slowly, letting herself lean against the window frame. Her heart was still racing, but the weight of the dread in her chest subsided.
They don’t know, she realized. Not yet.
One of the machines behind the curtain gave a dull beep. A nurse entered, checked the vitals of the unconscious man, and adjusted the IV line. She gave them all a tight smile and slipped out without speaking.
Lars stood there in silence for a moment. Then he reached over and gripped Jonsson’s shoulder. “I’m glad you two are OK.”
“Still hurts like hell,” Niklas grunted, adjusting his bandages.
“You’re lucky,” Klara said gently. “It could’ve been much worse.”
They both nodded. Then, mercifully, the room fell into quiet conversation — Lars asking after families, Niklas joking about the food, and Jonsson grumbling about hospital gowns.
Klara listened, chimed in when needed, and mentally marked every detail they didn’t know.
For now, she was safe.
Klara’s boyfriend came home a little early that evening.
“How are your friends at the hospital?” she asked.
“Better,” Lars replied, giving her a hug. “Kalle is stable now. They said it looks like he will pull through.”
“That is so good to hear,” Klara replied. Her voice conveyed relief and compassion for his friend, but she also wondered if the third soldier knew something his friends did not.
“I haven’t started dinner yet, but I bought salmon,” Klara explained.
“That’s right, it’s your turn tonight,” Lars replied.
“I know I’m not as good a cook as you, honestly, but I feel that it’s only fair for me to share the load,” Klara explained.
“No need to downplay your food,” Lars answered. “I love your meals.”
She smiled and set to work cooking some baked salmon with dill and lemon, which she accompanied with a side of quinoa, steamed broccoli, and cold cucumber salad. Lars turned on the news while she cooked.
When the news turned to events in Asia, Klara saw it as an opening. “Lars, do you think this stuff happening in Taiwan with China places Gotland in danger?” she asked. “You know, because of the Chinese presence in Kaliningrad and this big EDEP exercise?”
Her boyfriend replied, “I don’t know, but everyone is jumpy.”
As she started placing dinner on the table, Lars’s face lit up. “Oh, I almost forgot to tell you,” he said. “We caught a lucky break on who might have placed the explosive device.”
“Really?” Klara asked. Based on his tone, she was sure it wasn’t linked to her, but her heart beat faster all the same.
“It appears they managed to obtain some footage of the guy the Home Guard thought they saw placing the device. It turns out the person had an Interpol Red Notice on him for the murder of a police officer in Gibraltar.”
“No way!” Klara replied, answering in a way to make him feel like she was showing interest in him, but all the while, her mind was racing.
“Yeah,” Lars continued. “Then he got caught snooping on a submarine arriving at the naval base some eighteen months ago.”
“Wow,” Klara answered.
“The guy was apparently working as a cultural attaché at the Chinese embassy in Stockholm,” Lars continued, “but in reality, he’s more likely a spy, possibly looking to do some sabotage stuff on Gotland ahead of the EDEP exercise. No one is really sure. It’s unclear if he’s still on Gotland or if he escaped off the island on one of the late-evening ferries.”
“Oh, man. Do I need to be worried?” she asked.
“Honestly… I don’t know,” Lars replied. “There’s a lot of scary stuff going on in the world right now. It’s best to keep your wits about you, for sure.”
Klara went in for a hug, allowing Lars to comfort her, and also giving her a moment to contemplate where this left her.
Is this going to compromise my mission? she wondered. The wheels turned in her mind.
After dinner, she told Lars, “With everything going on, I think I need to go home and notify members of the Baltic Resilience & Renewables Initiative of the recent events on Gotland. I probably should also run some damage control, so people won’t back out of my Baltic Wings Festival.”
Lars was concerned, but he understood and offered to walk her to her apartment.
Once she arrived, she opened her laptop and began to create an encrypted document. Klara began making a list of “suspicious things” that she had noticed about the Chinese investors and NGO members that were a part of her recent tour of Gotland. In the document, she noted how she’d worked with groups like this in the past, so she hadn’t initially thought anything of it, but with all that had happened, now it seemed like some of the things they’d done might be a part of something bigger. She noted how they were trying to get too close to military lines when touring the Tofta Solar Pilot Site, and how they were asking too many questions about the military presence on Gotland.