The Informer (Sabotage Group BB) Read Online Free Page B

closing the door as she leaves the room.
    He stands there in the middle of the room, looking at the closed door. The paint is starting to peel off the top of the door. Everything decays. He pulls the chair to sit down in front of the typewriter, but instantly gets up again. He empties the cup of coffee in one big gulp. Ersatz coffee, tastes terrible, but at least it’s warm. He falls back into the chair, running his hands down his face.
    Everything’s a mess. He’s losing his grip. His life’s a jigsaw spilled on the floor.

7
    It is ten minutes to six. Riding her bicycle along the four lakes in central Copenhagen, the pedals scratching the chain guard, and the wind making it a struggle to get anywhere, Alis K knows, she’ll be at the hospital on time; she has to.
    If you are not on time, you don’t come at all. Lingering at the gates for everyone to notice is far too dangerous. Someone might call the Hipo or the Gestapo, trying to make some easy money. You simply can’t let yourself be noticed. An assignment is instantly canceled if you’re not there on time.
    Stopping at the back of the municipal hospital, she gets off her bicycle to avoid being a few minutes early. She pulls it down the side street along the wall surrounding the hospital, then heads towards the main gates on Oster Farimagsgade.
    This will be her fourth termination. Her fourth kill. She’s calm, but excited—focused. It’s no game killing a Hipo officer.
    Hipo is short for Hilfspolizei —the helping police. It is a Danish police force, formed to keep some law and order in the city, after the Germans discharged the entire Danish police force a few months ago. The original Danish police force had continued as the law enforcement of the country for the first four years of the German occupation. That ended september the 19th 1944, when the Germans rounded the Danish police force and almost two thousand police officers were straight to the German concentration camps. The Hipo HQ is located at the old central police station. Four men in each car and running on gasoline, the Hipo patrol the city in cars with the doors removed to let the officers disembark the vehicles quickly to return fire in the frequent event of an attack. Being a member of the Hilfspolizei , you’re automatically placed on the death lists of the resistance. The Hipo are feared and hated far worse than even the Gestapo and the SS.
    At exactly 6:00 p.m. Alis K is leaning against her bicycle in front of the twin main gates of the hospital. The boy is not there. For a short moment she’s close to wishing he will not show up at all. She has no concerns whatsoever of killing a couple of Hipo herself. It’s a job that needs to be done. However, she is not all that excited about having to guide a big boy in the art of murder.
    But no more than two minutes later, he halts his bicycle in front of her.
    “My name’s Alis K,” she says. “From now on you will be Willy. Come on, let’s push the bicycles for a bit.”
    He nods. His eyes sparkle. A little boy at Christmas. Starting to walk, she flashes him a smile.
    “Your first assignment is tonight.”
    “Tonight?”
    “Yes.” Finding the pistol inside her purse, she slips it into his coat pocket. “Don’t!” She grabs him by the wrist, pulling his hand away from the pocket. “It’s a gun. Made in Denmark, it’s a very poor gun. However, it was the best I could get at this point. You can keep it, but try to get a better one.”
    Now his eyes widen. He’s starting to get nervous. He is realizing this is for real. This is now; this is it.
    “What’s the plan?”
    Alis K starts walking again. The first man she killed was a pharmacist in the northern suburb Hellerup. Last year at springtime. Discovering his neighbor providing shelter for a wanted saboteur, he called the police. Jens, who was a police officer back then, managed to warn the saboteur before they came for him.
    Handed a gigantic Belgian revolver, Alis K was ordered