“Delta One, come in. Over.”
Munch released the TRANSMIT button on the walkie-talkie and waited for a reply.
“Nine, this is Delta One. Over.”
“This is Nine. What’s your position? Over.”
Munch glanced at Kim, who sat with the Glock in his lap. He wore a bulletproof vest and a grim expression on his face. Curry was sitting in the back; he, too, was wearing a bulletproof vest and holding a pistol in his hand. They had driven down the forest track with the headlights switched off, and they could make out the house now. It was not far away.
“Nine, this is Delta One. Eyes on location in forty meters. No target in sight. Over.”
“Delta One, this is Nine. Hold your position, and don’t shoot until I give the order. Received? Over.”
“Nine, this is Delta One. Received, over and out.”
“It’s pitch-black,” Curry whispered, leaning forward between the seats.
Munch took out his night-vision binoculars and aimed them at the dilapidated old building in front of them. There was nothing to suggest that the small cottage was inhabited. That was probably the intention. The GPS coordinates from the film had taken them to this place. He was grateful to Gabriel Mørk, who with the help of a friend had managed to identify the location in record time. The guy had really turned out to be a find. Munch pressed the walkie-talkie again.
“Delta Two, this is Nine, come in.”
“Nine, this is Delta Two. Over.”
“Position? Over.”
“This is Delta Two. We have two men behind the house, east. Three in front of the entrance, northwest. In position fifteen zero meters. Over.”
“Delta Two, this is Nine. Await further instructions. Over and out.”
“Strange that there’s not a single light, isn’t it?” Kim Kolsø said as Munch handed him the night-vision binoculars.
“Perhaps she’s not there?” Curry wondered out loud.
“Or they’re in the basement,” Munch said.
He took the binoculars back from Kim and aimed them at the small house. There were three units attending. Two from the armed-response unit, Delta, who had turned up with a group of marksmen and a SWAT team, in addition to Munch, Kim, and Curry. Munch returned the binoculars to Kim and almost had to smile as he remembered how Ludvig and Gabriel had both insisted on coming with them. Ludvig was one thing—after all, he’d been a police officer for a long time—but Gabriel? The boy had probably only ever let off fireworks. But he had guts. A real coup for the team, definitely. Munch had told them to man the office. He had enough of a force here.
“Are we sure that she also has Mia?” Kim said.
“We don’t know, but at the same time we do, don’t we?” Curry said.
“Her car was found outside the nursing home,” Munch said. “And the last message from her cell phone was sent from somewhere on Drammensveien.”
“Thrown out a window, probably,” Curry snarled.
“Did you discover anything about the boy? Iversen?” Munch said.
Kim had worked on his own case and come back just in time to join the team heading to the house.
“I spoke to his teacher, Emilie Isaksen,” Kim replied. “Very resourceful woman with a great social conscience. Wish there were more like her. The boy is gone. The parents are gone. She had just rescued the younger brother from the house—he was there without food for a week. I told her not to do anything on her own, but I doubt that she’ll listen. She’s probably on her way up to the forest to look for Tobias as we speak.”
“Talk to Ludvig,” Munch said. “Get Hønefoss Police to dispatch a unit.”
“Already done,” Kim told him.
Munch nodded affirmatively in response. If you could trust anyone, it would be Kim Kolsø. Curry, however, he had to keep an eye on. Kim sat motionless in the passenger seat, while Curry in the back could barely sit still.
“So what do we do?” Curry said, leaning forward between them again.
“We wait,” Munch said.
“What are we waiting for? That crazy woman has Mia inside. Who knows what she’s doing to her? Why don’t we just kick the door in and take the bitch out?”
“Curry,” Kim said to calm him down.
“I know what’s at stake,” Munch said in a steady voice. “My granddaughter is in there.”
He gave Curry a look that could not be misinterpreted. Curry grunted, somewhat apologetically, and sat back in his seat.
Marion was in there.
Munch pulled himself together. He could not assume that mantle now. The mantle of grandfather. Mikkelson had tried to insist that Munch stay home, letting others do the job, but not even a bulldozer could have held Munch back. He raised the binoculars to his eyes again and looked toward the dark house.
“How long do we wait?” Curry said impatiently from the rear seat.
“Curry,” Kim said again.
“No, he’s right,” Munch said gruffly. “There’s nothing to wait for.”
He pressed the walkie-talkie again.
“Delta Two, this is Nine, come in.”
“Nine, this is Delta Two. Over.”
“Delta Two, this is Nine, stand by for entry. Over.”
“Delta Two. Received, over and out.”
Munch checked that the safety catch had been released on the Glock before looking to the other two. “Are we ready?”
Kim nodded.
“Oh, yes,” Curry said.
Munch carefully opened the door and got out of the Audi as quietly as he could.