In the square, Peter glanced briefly at Mads and Bridget on the second floor of the restaurant. He was unarmed after handing over his Webley to Sasha who was holding a knife to his throat.
“You have white hair like an old man,” Peter said, taunting the Russian.
“The white hair,” Sasha said. “You like it? It’s in the genes, Mr Faye.”
“Let’s get this over, Sasha,” Vladimir said.
“How many innocent people have you killed?” Peter asked with feigned interest.
“No one is innocent,” Sasha said. “They all deserved to die.”
“Why did you kill Federmann and his men?”
“You mean that fat Nazi and his friends?”
“They didn’t deserve to die.”
“Enough time wasting, Mr Faye,” Sasha said. “Let’s get this over with. Remove the head covering from the woman.”
“Of course.”
On the second floor of the restaurant, Bridget was terrified.
“I can’t make the shot,” Mads said with his finger on the trigger. “The Russian is standing too close.”
“Shoot him, Mads, please.”
Bridget could hardly bear to see the denouement of the confrontation. Her fear was so great.
“He’s raising his hand,” Mads said. “He's raising his hand.”
Peter put his hand on Evdokia’s head and started to pull the black bag off. Sasha had stepped away from Peter to better observe the woman as Peter gave a sharp tug to the bag. The surprise was total. Sasha and Vladimir were looking at a man in Evdokia’s grey coat, wearing women’s stockings and shoes. From behind his back, Hendrik brought up a Suomi submachine gun and fired into Sasha’s chest on full automatic, blasting him clear off his feet like a rag doll. He turned the gun on Vladimir, who ran off.
Peter quickly recovered his Webley from the dead Russian and pulled Hendrik over to the monument in the middle of the square as gunshots pinged off the cobblestones. Hendrik turned his gun on Sasha’s henchmen, wounding one of the men firing from the shadows. The second man escaped as Vladimir took off in his car into the narrow streets.
From the second floor of the restaurant, Bridget ran downstairs and out into the square, followed by Mads with his long rifle. Bridget joined Peter and Hendrik at the monument.
“Are you all right?” Bridget asked.
“We’re fine,” Peter said, embracing Bridget.
Mads arrived with his sniper rifle safely back in its box. Together, they hurried out of the square to their cars. They stopped at Mads’ vehicle and opened the boot where Evdokia waited with a rag stuffed in her mouth. Mads pulled out the rag and helped Evdokia out, untying her hands.
“Where’s my husband?” Evdokia asked and then looked at Hendrik in her raincoat.
“That’s my coat, you bastard, and those are my shoes. You’ve ruined them.”
Hendrik stepped out of the woman’s shoes with their open heels and put on his own. He struggled to remove Evdokia’s raincoat, which was tight around the shoulders.
“Your husband took off after the shooting,” Peter said.
“You killed Sasha?” Evdokia asked as she collected her things.
“Yes, he’s dead.”
“Very good. That man was a devil.”
“We’ve got to go now,” Mads said. “The police are on their way.”
“Tell your husband when you see him that I kept my part of the bargain,” Peter said. “Now go.”
Evdokia nodded and ran off into the night as Peter and Bridget climbed into the Opel.
At the main dock in Nynäshamn, Peter and Bridget climbed aboard a Swedish fishing boat with their bags and waved to Mads and Hendrik on the dock. Captain Ludvig was in a hurry to be off and the boat started to pull away from the dock.
“Peter, Bridget. The captain will take you as far as Karlskrona, where you will catch another boat to Copenhagen. Have a nice trip. Remember to visit us in Finland.”
“A present for you, Peter,” Mads said as Hendrik tossed a bottle of Swedish aquavit over the gunwale into Peter's welcoming hands.
“For my nerves?” Peter asked.
Mads nodded.
“Aquavit cures every ill.”