Chapter 26 Chapter Twenty Six

Kohlberg and Larson were still hiding inside the Eastman Dental Center when sirens were heard.First they heard a police car coming across St Eric's Bridge from the direction of Kings Island Road, and then other police cars joined them from all directions, sirens blaring, but it didn't seem close enough. But Kohlberg found them in silence.It feels a lot like walking through a pasture on a summer night, only the crickets stop chirping where you stand. Kohlberg looked in the direction of Dara Street just now and found that the situation did not deteriorate further, but there were signs of improvement.Two patrolmen were still lying in the round pool, but there were no other casualties in the street.All the people who were in the square before had dispersed, and even the people who were lying on the ground before disappeared. Obviously, those people were not injured.

Larson didn't answer the question of how to cross the street, but bit his lower lip solemnly and stared at the row of white dentist's coats hanging on the wall behind Kohlberg. They have only two options. Run straight across the square and across the street, or sneak through a window to Vassar Park for a detour. Neither method is very wise. The first method is tantamount to suicide, and the second method takes too much time. Kohlberg looked out cautiously again, not daring to move the curtains. He nodded in the direction of the fountain.The scene in the circular fountain looked very surreal - it was like a globe, with a child kneeling on the Nordic peninsula, and two patrolmen crossed in the shape of a cross.

"Did you know those two?" he asked. "I know," said Larson, "the patrolmen in Solna, Kristiansund and Kavant." The two were silent for a while. "What are they doing here?" Then, Kohlberg asked a more interesting question. "Why would anyone shoot them?" "Why did someone shoot us?" This is also a very good question. Apparently someone was interested in killing them.Someone with an automatic rifle shot dead two uniformed patrolmen and tried every means to kill Kohlberg and Larson.But this so-and-so seemed not interested in other people, because there were still many live targets in the square at that time.

Why? One answer quickly emerged.The killer knew Kohlberg and Larson, he knew who they were, and he wanted them dead. Did the murderer also recognize Kristiansson and Kavant?Not necessarily, but the uniforms make their identities obvious. What identity? "Looks like someone doesn't like the police," Kohlberg muttered. "Yeah." Larson responded. He weighed the gun in his hand. "Did you see if that bastard was on the roof, or in a room?" he asked. "No," said Kohlberg. "I didn't have time to see it clearly." There was some movement in the street, small but frightening.

An ambulance came from the south, stopped, then backed up to the fountain, and stopped.Two men in white coats got out of the car, opened the back door, and pulled out two stretchers.They act calmly and don't seem nervous at all.One of them looked up at the nine-story building across the road, but nothing happened. Kohlberg had a bitter face. "Hey," Larson said immediately, "we have a chance." "A once-in-a-lifetime opportunity." He wasn't particularly excited, but Larson had already taken off his jacket and coat and was flipping through the row of white coats.

"They only come in three sizes," Kolberg said. Larson nodded, tucked the pistol into his belt, and slipped into his coat, which was tight at the shoulders. Kohlberg shook his head, reaching for the largest piece, the belly was so taut. Kohlberg felt that the two of them were like a couple in a silent film. "I thought it might work," Larson said. "Maybe that's all," said Kohlberg. "Ok?" "All right." The two walked down the steps, across the flagstones and past the ambulance crew.Paramedics had just loaded Kavant onto the first stretcher.

Kollberg looked down at the dead man's face and recognized the patrolman.He had run into this man a few times while on vacation.This guy did something big once.what is it then?Looks like he caught a dangerous rapist. Larson was already in the middle of the road, and the ill-fitting doctor's coat made him look very old.The two paramedics stared at them in surprise. Gunshots rang out. Kohlberg rushed across the street. But this time the gun was not aimed at him. A black and white police car was driving along Odin Road with its siren blaring.The first bullet was fired as the car passed the Rue Stewart, followed by a barrage of shots.

Larson ran to the sidewalk to take a closer look. The police car first accelerated, then began to sway left and right, and finally rushed through the intersection of Odin Road and Darla Street and disappeared. The gunfire stopped, and then There was a loud crash of metal clashing. "Idiot," Larson said. He joined Kohlberg at the entrance, lifted his white coat and drew his pistol. "People are on the roof, you can't go wrong, let's fight and go." "Yeah, he's on the roof now," Kolberg said. "What do you mean by that?" "I don't think he was on the roof before."

"Let's fight and go." Larson repeated. There were two entrances on the street-facing side of the building, and they were at the north-facing entrance, and the pair rushed in.The elevator was broken, and several panicked residents stood on the stairs. Seeing Larson's coat torn, bleeding from his head, and holding a gun in his hand, everyone was even more at a loss.Kohlberg's police badge was in his coat pocket, but the coat was in a building across the street.Even if Larson had any certificates on him, he would never show them. "Get out of the way," Larson said gruffly.

"Everyone stay downstairs here together," Kolberg suggested. It took some effort to appease the group, which were three women, a child and an old man.They probably saw what had just happened from the window. "Please remain calm," said Kohlberg. "There will be no danger." Hearing his own words, Kohlberg smiled wryly in his heart. "That's right, the police have arrived." Larson followed behind Kohlberg. The elevator stopped at the sixth floor, and the elevator door on the floor above was open, and they could see the shaft of the elevator.The elevator seemed very wobbly and someone had intentionally stopped it, most likely the guy on the roof.So now they knew one more thing about him—he was a good shot, knew both of them, and knew how to operate elevators.

There are always new situations, Kohlberg thought. The two climbed another staircase before being blocked by an iron gate.The iron gate was locked, perhaps closed from the other side, but how it was closed was hard to say. However, they immediately concluded that the door could not be opened in the normal way. Larson twisted his thick golden eyebrows into a ball. "There's no need to pry," said Corberg, "it won't work." "We could break into one of the rooms," Larson said, "and climb up through the window." "Without ropes or ladders?" "Well," said Larson, "it still doesn't work." He thought for a few seconds before adding, "So what if you climbed to the roof? You don't have a gun." Kohlberg didn't answer. "The situation at the entrance on the other side should be the same." Larson said bitterly. Sure enough, the entrance on the other side was also sealed.There was a jerky old man who claimed to be a retired army captain, and was closely guarding several residents. "I want these common people to hide in the basement." The old man said. "Very well," Larson replied, "that's what we're going to do, Captain." Otherwise, the situation was exactly the same—locked iron doors, open elevator doors, and damaged elevator machinery.There is no way. Larson scratched his chin gravely with the barrel of the gun. Corberg looked nervously at Larson's gun.It was a well-polished and well-maintained gun, with grooves carved into the walnut handle.The safety catch is locked. Although Larson often behaves irrationally, he never fires unless necessary. "Have you ever shot someone?" he asked suddenly. "No. What are you asking for?" "have no idea." "I think we should go over Odinplatz," Kolberg said. "Maybe." "We're the only ones here who know what's going on, at least we know what happened just now." Larsson clearly did not agree with Kohlberg's suggestion.He plucked a nose hair from his left nostril and watched absently. "I want to get that guy off the roof," he said. "But we can't go up." "Yeah, we can't go up." They go back to the first floor.Just as they were leaving the building, four more shots were heard. "What is he playing?" Kolberg asked. "Patrol car," Larson replied, "do practice." Kohlberg looked at the empty patrol car, the blue flashing lights and searchlights on the roof all smashed out. They left the building and turned left at a haste, clinging to the wall, onto Belvedere Street.There was no one on the street. As soon as they rounded the corner, they threw their white coats on the pavement. The pair heard a helicopter rumbling overhead, but couldn't see it. The wind picked up, and although the sun was shining, it was bitterly cold. "Did you find out the name of the guy who lives up there?" Larson asked. Corberg nodded. "There are two houses on the top floor over there, but one of them seems to be empty." "What about the other household?" "There is a man named Erikson who lives there with his daughter." "Go check it out." In short, there was a sharpshooter with an automatic gun who knew Kohlberg and Larsson, didn't like notes, knew how to operate elevators, and was probably Eriksson. The two walked forward quickly. The police siren came from far and near. "Maybe we'll have to deal with him from the outside," Kolberg said. Larson doesn't seem to agree. "Maybe," he said. Although there are no people on Dala Street and its surrounding areas, Odin Square is very lively.The rectangular square was packed with black and white police cars and uniformed police officers, which naturally attracted a large number of spectators.Due to the hasty road blockade, the traffic was in chaos for a while, and almost the entire central area of ​​Stockholm was affected, and the situation in the square was the most impressive.The cars on Odin Road were jammed all the way to Fakhla Road, and several buses crowded the square.As soon as the scuffle started, the empty taxis waiting in the square were even more afraid that the world would not be chaotic. All the drivers ran out of the taxis and squeezed together with the police and the crowd. Everyone couldn't figure out what was going on. More people poured in from all sides, especially those who got off the subway.A police force on motorcycles, two fire trucks and a helicopter monitoring traffic also joined the fray.Plainclothes police were everywhere, trying to squeeze a little room in the crowd. Even if Niemann was still alive and directing the situation, Kolberg thought, the situation would probably not be much better.He and Larson squeezed toward the subway entrance, which seemed to be the command center. There the two found Hasson of the Fifth Division, or should be said to be the deputy captain of Norman Hasson, and Adolph Frederick, who knew the area well.A chat with these two should help. "Are you in charge here?" Kolberg asked. "No, it's not." Hassoon looked around nervously. "Then who is responsible?" "There are several candidates, but Inspector Malm just arrived, and he's in the car over there." The two squeezed to the side of the car. Malm, in his fifties, is neat and elegant, with curly hair and a pleasant smile. Rumor has it that the high-ranking official rides a horse to keep in shape.He has an excellent image, and the newspapers have praised him well, but he is very problematic as a policeman-some people suspect that he is not qualified to be a policeman. "My God, Larson, you look awful," he said. "Where's Baker?" Kolberg asked. "I haven't contacted him yet. Anyway, the current situation requires experts to come forward." "What expert?" "A police expert, of course," Malm said impatiently. "The commissioner is out of town, and the chief of the city police department is not on duty. I've contacted the police commissioner, he's gone to Rocky Sands, and—" "Good job," Larson said. "What do you mean by that?" Malm asked suspiciously. "That gun won't hit him," said Larson innocently. "What? Anyway, I was ordered to supervise the case, and I know you just came from the scene. How do you think the situation is?" "There was a crazy man sitting on a roof with an automatic rifle and shooting cops," Larson said. Malm looked at him expectantly, but Larson said nothing more. Larson shook his arms and slapped his sides to keep him warm. "He's fortified inside the building," said Kolberg, "and the surrounding buildings have lower roofs, and sometimes he stays in the upper rooms, but we haven't seen him so far. In other words, It might be difficult to arrest him." "Hmph, no, there should be many ways." Malm said arrogantly, "The police have all kinds of resources." Kohlberg turned to look at Hasson. "What happened to the police car that was hit in Odin Road?" "It's too bad," Hasong said with a cold face. "Two people were injured, one was injured in the arm, and the other was injured in the leg. Can I make some suggestions?" "What advice?" Larson asked. "Let's evacuate from here first, and go inside the cordon, such as the gas plant on Sol Street." "Where the old gas tanks are," said Kohlberg. "That's right, they've already removed the gas tank, and it's going to be used to cover the communication channel." Corberg sighed.The old brick gas tank is a very special building. Unfortunately, only a few visionary people are willing to work hard to preserve the ancient relics, and of course it failed-what is more important than building a communication channel? Kohlberg shook his head, why does he keep thinking about irrelevant things?Must have been a little distracted. "Can the helicopter land there?" Malm asked. "Can." Malm glanced at Larson. "Is that out of range?" "Yeah, unless that bastard has a mortar." Malm was silent for a while, then looked at several colleagues, and finally announced loudly: "Guys, I have an idea. Let's move to the gasworks on Sol Street in batches. Everyone gather there first. The time is—" He looked at his watch and said, "Within ten minutes."