Holger woke slowly and stretched snugly. He had a feeling of warmth throughout his body. That was unfamiliar, not just because the sun was streaming through the bedroom window on Niels Andersens Vej. Last night was terrific. He had found Louise waiting for him at home when he arrived. She had fallen asleep on the couch in front of the television with a Dannebrog flag held close to her chest. He had carried her to bed without waking her, but Holger had sat beside her for a long time. Thankfully watching her as she lay there sleeping peacefully. Safe and innocent, as only a child still oblivious to the adult world could. Blissfully unaware of the perils of ambition, lust for power and sheer evil that were part and parcel of the human race. He had finally kissed her softly on her forehead and tiptoed out of the room.
After a quick shower, he fetched the morning newspaper in the letterbox. His Panerai showed that it was just before ten, and he switched on the TV and put on a pair of jeans. He had to fasten his belt several notches tighter than usual, and in the hall mirror, he noticed his trousers hanging from his waist. Ok. Maybe I didn’t receive any medals or public recognition, but at least I got the body of my youth back, he thought smilingly and threw a T-shirt over his head. 464
He went out into the kitchen and made himself a cup of Nescafé. The smell almost made him ecstatic, and he realised how many more everyday routines he would now appreciate afresh. That’s a way to get your life into perspective, he thought and smiled. It’s absolutely amazing to be home again. The signature tune from the TV News dragged him out of his thoughts, and he focused on the TV screen.
‘The kidnapped Jaeger, Kaare Strand, has surprisingly been freed under mysterious circumstances. He reported himself to customs officers at the Polish ferry dock in Copenhagen early this morning and later boarded a morning flight for Aalborg. Our reporter in Aalborg is at Limfjord Hotel right now, where he is about to give a statement to the press.’
Holger sat back comfortably on the sofa as the images cut to the hotel in Aalborg. Kaare appeared on the screen. He still looked pretty rough, but his composure mirrored a calmness and inner balance that would make any Buddhist monk proud. Holger could see a woman, presumably his wife, in the background. She looked happy but also exhausted. She’s probably been up the entire night waiting since Kaare called her around 1 a.m., thought Holger as the reporter started posing her questions.
‘It is no secret that I have been under intense pressure for the past few weeks,’ Kaare answered.
He took a swig from the water bottle he held in his hand and continued:
‘I have been subjected to a great deal of cruelty, but thanks to people whose identity I cannot reveal for their safety, I am standing here today. For similar reasons, I can’t comment on the details of my release. I owe it to these people. But I will say that I have 465great difficulty expressing the enormity of my gratitude to those who helped me.’
He paused, looked directly into the camera and continued without blinking:
‘And I will never forget the Danish state for its efforts throughout the ordeal.’
The remark sucked the air out of the room, and several journalists stretched microphones at him, ready to pose questions.
‘I am now going to spend a few weeks with my family. I would also like to take this opportunity to thank all of you from the media for the support for me and my family, and for today conveying my thanks to the true heroes. Heroes that, for different reasons, will never receive public recognition for their efforts. Once again, thank you for coming,’ he continued.
The woman had stepped up beside him; he drew her tight and let his hand gently massage her faintly swollen stomach, just about visible through her blouse, before walking away from the microphone. The picture switched back to the studio anchor, who after stalling for a moment, received a message through the earpiece:
‘That was Kaare Strand in Aalborg, and now over to TV 2’s correspondent in Moscow, Jens F. Poulsen, with an update from Russia:
‘The Interior Ministry has this morning released a statement that Russian police are currently carrying out a large operation against criminal groups. The leader of the ultra-nationalist party Mother Russia, Andrej Nitchenko, is amongst those arrested. It is rumoured that Mr Nitchenko will be put on trial for crimes against the state. Just a few days ago, Mother Russia was involved in a fierce firefight on the outskirts of St Petersburg. Members of 466the party’s security guard fought a veritable war against factions of the local mafia on a disused airbase.’
The feature returned to the studio in Copenhagen:
‘Thank you, Jens. We’ll bring you the latest developments in the twelve o’clock news, where we also have word from the Foreign Office, which has called a press conference to shed light on the government’s role in the freeing of Kaare Strand. And now, let’s have a look at the weather,’ said the newsreader and handed over to the weather girl.
Holger switched off the set and went into the kitchen to make another cup of coffee. Strangely, he found the news less attractive now. Perhaps because I know that it’s rarely the truth that is conveyed. Just a snippet. Never that which determines the actual events. Never in-depth. Holger shook off his cynicism and let a warm smile broaden as he heard Louise coming down the stairs. She could spend more time with me now, he mused. Especially if I am no longer so absorbed in work but concentrate on what I know to be important in life. After a journey through hell, he had been given a new lease of life and was firmly committed to making the most of it.
By the time Louise entered the kitchen, he had already poured her a glass of orange juice. He hugged her, placing a tender kiss on her forehead and handed her the glass. He ignored the juice spilling onto the light herringbone wood floor. Once, it would have made him angry. But not now. Recent events had taught him that only what was irreplaceable mattered.