Chapter 8 chapter eight

There was an Irish law in AD 697 that prohibited women from serving in the army - that is to say there were women soldiers before that.Ethnic groups that have recruited female soldiers over the centuries include Arabs, Berbers in North Africa, Kurds in West Asia, Rajputs in North India, Chinese, Filipinos, Maori, Papuans, Aboriginal Australians , Micronesians and American Indians. Ancient Greek legends about fearsome female warriors are extremely rich, telling how women received combat training from an early age, such as the use of weapons, how to deal with physical exhaustion, and so on.They lived separately from the men and formed their own armies to fight.These stories tell us that they conquered men on the battlefield.For example, in 600 BC, the Amazonian daughter warrior appeared in Greek literature written by Homer.

The word "Amazon" was invented by the Greeks, and its original meaning is "without breasts".It is said that in order to facilitate the drawing of the bow, the right breast of the woman was removed with a hot iron block, either in childhood or in adulthood.Although the ancient Greek physicians Hippocrates and Galen are said to have agreed that the procedure improved the ability to wield weapons, it is doubtful that anyone actually performed it.Here's another linguistic mystery: Does the "a" prefix to "Amazon" really mean "nothing"?Some believe the opposite is true, that Amazons refer to women with exceptionally large breasts.And you won't find any sketches, amulets, or statues in any museum depicting a woman without her right breast, which would have been a fairly common subject if the rumors of mutilation were true.

When the elevator doors opened, Erica took a deep breath and walked into the editorial office of the Swedish Morgan Post.The time is ten fifteen in the morning.She came to work wearing black trousers, a red pullover and a dark jacket.Today is a typical May Day weather. On the way through the city, she found that labor groups had begun to gather, and it suddenly occurred to her that she had not participated in a similar parade for more than 20 years. She stood alone for a moment by the elevator door.First day at work.From here you can see more than half of the editorial office, with the editorial desk in the center.She also saw the glass door of the editor-in-chief's office, which was hers now.

She was not at all sure that she was the right person to lead the sprawling organization of the Swedish Morgan Post.It was a big step for her to go from a five-person magazine to a company with 80 reporters, 90 administrative staff, plus IT technicians, editors, photographers, advertising business and everything needed for newspaper distribution. daily.In addition, there is a publishing house, a production company and an investment management company with more than 230 employees. She stood there asking herself, could this whole thing be a big mistake? At this time, the older one of the two counter reception staff found out who the person who had just entered the office was, and quickly got up and walked out of the counter, extending his hand to greet him.

"Miss Bayeux, welcome to the Swedish Morgan Post." "Just call me Erica, hello." "This is Beatrice, welcome. Shall I take you to Editor-in-Chief Moreland? Or should I say the outgoing Editor-in-Chief?" "Thank you, I saw him sitting in that glass cage over there." Erica smiled and said, "I can go by myself, but thank you anyway." She walked quickly through the editing room, also noticing the sudden drop in the noise level, and everyone's eyes on her.She stopped when she reached the half-empty editor's desk and gave everyone a friendly nod.

"We'll formally introduce ourselves later." After she finished speaking, she walked to the front of the glass room and knocked on the door. Outgoing editor-in-chief Hawken Moreland has spent twelve years in this glass cage.Like Erica, he's a talent scouted from the outside—so he's walked the same path as her on his first day at work.He looked up, a little dazed, and stood up immediately. "Hello, Erica," he said, "I thought you only started work on Monday." "I couldn't bear to stay at home another day, so here I am." Moreland stretched out his hand and said, "Welcome, I am so happy that you can take over."

"Are you okay?" Erica asked. He shrugged just as Beatrice at the counter came in with coffee and milk. "It feels like I'm running at half my speed, and I don't really want to talk about it. I've been running around thinking I'm an immortal teenager all my life, only to realize I don't have much time left. But one thing's for sure It's—I don't want to spend the rest of my life in this glass cage." He said rubbing his chest.He had a cardiovascular problem, which was why he was leaving and Erica had to start work months earlier than scheduled.

Erica turned to look at the scene outside the editorial room, and saw a reporter leading a cameraman towards the elevator, probably going to cover news about the May Day parade. "Moreland... I can come back tomorrow or the day after tomorrow if I get in your way or you're busy today." "Today's job is to write an editorial about the demonstrations, and I can do it in my sleep. If the leftists want to go to war with Denmark, I have to explain where they are wrong. If the leftists want to avoid war with Denmark, I have to You have to explain where they went wrong."

"Denmark?" "That's right. The May Day message has to touch on integration. Of course, whatever the Left says is wrong." He laughed heartily after speaking. "Have you always been this cynical?" "Welcome to the Swedish Morgan Post." Erica never thought anything of Morand.He was an unassuming power figure among a distinguished group of editors-in-chief, who came across as drab and conservative in his editorials, good at complaining about taxes and downright liberal when it came to press freedom.But she had never met him in person. "Do you have time to tell me about the work?"

"I'm leaving at the end of June, and we'll be working together for two months. You'll find some good things and some bad things. I'm a cynic, so I see mostly bad things." He got up and walked over to her, looking through the glass into the editing room. “What you find with this job is that there’s a whole bunch of people out there who are against you — day editors and veteran editors are their own little kingdoms with their own circles that you can’t join .They’re going to try to expand their territory, they’re going to try to force their headlines and their point of view, and you’re going to have to fight hard to get your foot in the door.”

Erica nodded. "Your nightly editors are Billinger and Carlson... each has a lot of heads. They hate each other, the important thing is that they don't work in the same class, but both of them are a publisher and editor-in-chief Posture. In addition, there is news editor Anders Holm, you will have a lot of contact time, and I think conflicts will inevitably be inevitable. In fact, he is the person who makes the "Swedish Morgan Post" published every day. As for the reporter, there are some fundamental issues. Unfettered, and some really should be kicked out." "Don't you have a good colleague?" Moreland laughed again. "Yes, but it's up to you who you get along with. There are some really good journalists out there." "And what about the management?" "Manius Bosche is the chairman, the guy who snares you. He's charming; a bit old-fashioned and a bit edgy, but above all, he's the decision maker. Some of the directors—including those of the family that owns the newspaper A few people—mostly seemed to be sitting there killing time, some were running around, looking like professional directors." "You don't seem to appreciate your directors very much." "There must be a division of labor. We publish the newspaper, and they are responsible for the finances, so they should not interfere with the content of the report, but there will always be emergencies. Erica, I told you honestly in private, you will be very hard." "How to say?" "With a circulation of nearly 150,000 fewer copies since the glory days of the sixties, the Swedish Morgan Post may soon cease to be profitable. We have reorganized and have downsized since 1980 One hundred and eighty jobs. We switched to a small paper, which should have been done twenty years ago. The Swedish Morgan Post is still one of the big papers, but it will soon be considered a second-rate paper, Maybe it is now.” "Then why did they choose me?" “Because the average age of our readers is over fifty, and the growth rate of readers in their twenties is almost zero, the newspaper needs to be reinvigorated. The theory of the directors is to find the most incredible editor-in-chief they think.” "A woman?" "Not just any woman, but the woman who brought down the Wennerstrand empire, who is seen as the queen of investigative reporting and who is known for her toughness. Think about it, how can they resist? If you can't bring the paper back to life, No one could. The Swedish Morgan Post hired not just Erica Bayeux, but all the mystical charm that goes with the name." It was just after two o'clock in the afternoon when Blomkvist walked out of Copa's Bistro next to the theater in Hohensdur.He put on his sunglasses and turned onto Rue Bessonstrand to the metro station.He spotted a gray Volvo parked on the corner at a glance, but he didn't slow down as he passed.The license plate was the same, and the car was empty. This is the seventh time I have seen this car in the past four days.He didn't know how long the car had been parked in the area, and it was pure coincidence that he would notice it.The first time was on Wednesday morning, when the car was parked near the gate of his Bellman Road flat, on his way to work.He accidentally caught a glimpse of the license plate number beginning with "KAB", and he paid special attention to it because it was the abbreviation of Zarachenko's company name "Karl Axo Potting Co., Ltd."But if he hadn't found the same car a few hours later when he was having lunch with Kertesz and Marlene in Plaza Mayorga, he wouldn't have thought about it too much.This time the Volvo was parked in an alley near Millennium's offices. He suspected it might be his own delusion, but that afternoon when he visited Pangem at Ursta's rehabilitation center, the car showed up in the visitor's parking lot.It can't be a coincidence.Blomkvist began to pay attention to everything around him.Don't be surprised to see the same car again the next morning. But never saw the driver. I called the Supervision Office and learned that the owner of the car was Yoran Mortensen who lived on Wellingby Vitangi Road.After searching for an hour, it was found that Morrison had the title of business consultant and a private company under his name, and the address was a post office box on Fleming Road, King Island.Mo Tiansen's personal qualifications are quite interesting.In 1983, at the age of eighteen, he served in the Coast Guard and later became a professional soldier.After being promoted to Lieutenant in 1989, he transferred to the Police Academy in Solna and served in the Stockholm Police Department from 1991 to 1996.In 1997, his name was no longer on the field list, but in 1999 he registered and established his own company. The secret police, so to speak. Even something smaller than that is enough to make a diligent investigative reporter suspicious.Blomkvist believed he was being watched, but the method was so clumsy that it was difficult for him not to notice. But is it really clumsy?He initially paid attention to the car because the license plate number happened to have special meaning to him.If it weren't for the three letters "KAB", he wouldn't have looked at it at all. On Friday, KAB was conspicuously missing.Blomkvist couldn't be 100 percent sure, but it seemed a red Audi was following him that day.He couldn't see the license plate number.On Saturday, Volvo was back. Exactly twenty seconds after Blomkvist left the Kopa Bistro, Krist raised his Nikon camera under the awning of the Rosso Cafe across the street and aimed it at the The two men in the neighborhood theater took twelve photos in a row. One of them looked to be about forty years old, with blond hair.The other appeared older, with thinning reddish blond hair and wearing sunglasses.Both were wearing jeans and leather jackets. The two walked to the gray Volvo and parted.The older man boarded the train, while the younger man followed Blomkvist to the Hohensdur subway station. Krist puts down the camera.Blomkvist didn't explain much, but insisted that he wander around the Kopa Pavilion on Sunday afternoon, find a gray Volvo with a license plate number beginning with KAB, and told him to find a good location so that he could take a picture. The man who got into that car, and probably just after three o'clock.Blomkvist told Krist to keep his eyes open for anyone who might be following him. Sounding a lot like a typical Blomkvist prelude, Crist was never quite sure if he was inherently paranoid, or gifted.Blomkvist has indeed become autistic and difficult to communicate with since the Gothberga incident.In fact, this is not unusual.It's just that whenever Blomkvist is writing a piece of complicated news, it becomes especially apparent—Christ had seen the same unusual and mysterious behavior in the weeks before the Wennerstrom incident. . But then again, Crist saw it himself, and Blomkvist was indeed being followed.He felt vaguely worried, not knowing what new nightmare was brewing.Whatever it is, it will suck up Millennium's time, energy, and resources.At this time, the editor-in-chief of the magazine has just left the team and joined the big newspaper, and the stable state of "Millennium" has become chaotic again in a blink of an eye. Christ thinks that Blomkvist really shouldn't start any crazy things. plan. But Crist hasn't marched in a parade -- except for the Pride Parade -- for at least a decade.Anyway, there is nothing to do on this May Day Sunday, so it is better to accommodate the wayward issuer.Although he did not receive further instructions to follow, he still leisurely followed the Blomkvist man, but when he reached Long Island Street, he suddenly disappeared. After Blomkvist found out that his mobile phone was being tapped, the first thing he did was ask Kertesz to buy some second-hand phones.Kertesz bought a bunch of Ericsson T10s at a very low price, and Blomkvist bought some prepaid cards from Comviq Telecom, and distributed the phones to Marlene, Kertesz, Annika, Christ, Armansky, and I keep one for myself.These phones are only used for conversations that require absolute confidentiality, and for everyday topics, the original phones can and should be used.In other words, everyone has to carry two mobile phones with them. It was Kertesz's turn to be on duty on weekends, so when he entered the office in the evening, Blomkvist saw him again.Since Zarachenko's murder, Blomkvist has worked a twenty-four-hour shift, so that the office is always occupied, and someone spends the night in it every night.The duty list included himself, Kertesz, Marlene, and Krist.Rota is notoriously afraid of the dark, and would never spend the night alone in the office.Monica is not afraid of the dark, but she works too hard, so let her go home and rest after get off work.Sonny was a bit old, and being a marketing director had nothing to do with editorial work.He's also going on vacation soon. "Any news?" "Nothing special," Kertesz replied, "It's all May Day news today, which is only natural." "I'll be here for a few hours," Blomkvist told him. "Go and rest and come back around nine." After Kertesz left, Blomkvist took out his anonymous cell phone and called special correspondent Daniel Olsen in Gothenburg.Millennium has published several of his articles over the years, and Blomkvist is confident in his ability to gather background information. "Olson, I'm Blomkvist, is it convenient for you to speak?" "certainly." "I'd like to get someone to do a survey. We'll pay you five days' labor, and you don't have to write a report after the survey. Of course, you can still use it to write an article if you want, and we'll publish it, but it's mostly the survey part. " "Okay, let's talk." "It's sensitive, you can't discuss it with anyone but me, and you can only contact me via hotmail. You can't even mention that you're investigating things for Millennium." "Sounds interesting. What do you want to know?" "I want you to do a workplace report at Sogernska Hospital. We'll just call the report 'ER' and the purpose is to see the difference between the real place and the TV series. Observe in the nursing ward for a few days, talk to doctors, nurses, cleaners... in short, all the staff. Ask them about their work, what they really do, etc. And of course take pictures." "Intensive care unit?" Olson asked. "That's right. I want you to focus on Ward C, which is the follow-up care for seriously injured patients. I want to know the layout of the whole area, who works there, and their appearance and background." "Unless I remember correctly, there should be a patient named Liz Salander in Area C." Olson is indeed not a rookie who just debuted. "That would be interesting," Blomkvist said. "Find out which ward she lives in, who lives next door, and what's the routine in that area." "I don't think that should be the point of this report at all," Olsen said. "As I said... all I want is the results of your investigation." So they swapped hotmail boxes. Salander was lying on her back on the floor when Nurse Marion came in. She let out a "huh" and expressed doubts about whether the patient's behavior in the intensive care unit was appropriate.But she also acknowledges that it's the only space the patient has to exercise. Salander was sweating profusely.Following the advice of her physical therapist, she spent thirty minutes doing arm raises, stretches and sit-ups.In fact, she has a long list of exercises to do every day to strengthen the shoulder and hip muscles that underwent surgery three weeks ago.She was breathing heavily, and felt that her physical condition was extremely miserable.Although I get tired easily, my left shoulder is very tight, and it hurts after a little effort, but I am gradually recovering.The headaches that had been tormenting her since surgery have subsided considerably and now only occur occasionally. She thought she was eighty or ninety percent better, and would have been able to stride—or at least limp—out of the hospital if she could, but she wasn't.First of all, the doctor has not yet declared her cured, and secondly, her door is locked all the time, and there is a damn thug sent by a security company sitting in the corridor outside the door to guard it. Based on her health condition, she could actually be transferred to the general rehabilitation ward, but after repeated discussions, the police and the hospital agreed to let Salander temporarily stay in the eighteenth ward.This room is easier to guard, there are staff walking around 24 hours a day, and it is located at the end of the L-shaped corridor.After Zarachenko's murder, all the staff in Ward C were vigilant, and they knew Salander's situation very well, so it was best not to let her move into a new ward that operates with new procedures. In any case, in a few weeks, her inpatient stay at Sogernska would be over.Once doctors declared she could be discharged, she was sent to the Kronoberg detention center in Stockholm to await trial.And it was Dr. Jonathan who decided the timing. Dr. Jonathan allowed the first official police interview ten days after the Gosseberga shooting, which, in Annika's opinion, was to Salander's advantage.It's a pity that it is so difficult for Annika to see the client, which is very annoying. After the turmoil of Zarachenko's murder and Guerbo's attempted suicide, Jonathan assessed Salander's situation, and considering that Salander was involved in three murders and was almost killed by his father's attack, it must be under great pressure.He didn't know if she was innocent, and as a doctor he wasn't interested in that answer at all, except to conclude that Salander had been stressed, shot three times, and had a bullet in the brain that nearly killed her.She had a persistent high fever and severe headaches. He dare not be careless.Suspect or not, she was his patient after all, and it was his duty to make her recover.So he filled out a "no visitation" form, which had nothing to do with the prosecutor's restraining order.He prescribed all kinds of medicines and told her to stay in bed completely. But Jonathan also understands that segregation is an inhuman form of punishment, in fact close to prison.No friends were to be allowed and no one would be happy, so he decided to let Salander's lawyer take the place of friend.He had an honest talk with Annika, explaining that she could see Salander for an hour a day, during which time she could talk to her, or just sit quietly with her, but not talk about Salander Or the impending legal battle. "Salander was shot in the head and was very badly wounded," he explained. "I think she's out of danger, but she could still bleed or have other complications at any time. She needs rest and time to recover. Only when she is completely Once you recover, you can start to face legal issues.” Annika could understand Dr. Jonathan's argument.She would chat with Salander about some common topics, and occasionally hint at the main points of the strategy she planned with Blomkvist, but Salander had taken too much medicine and was too tired, and often listened to Annika talking. Fell asleep. Armansky looked at the photograph that Christ had taken of the two men following Blomkvist from the Copa House; the focus was sharp. "No," he said, "never saw them." Blomkvist nodded.It was Monday morning, and Blomkvist was in his office with Armansky after he entered the Milton Building from the garage. "The older one is Morrison, the owner of the Volvo. He has been with me for at least a week, maybe longer, as if he had a guilty conscience." "You think he's the secret police?" Blomkvist referred to Morrison's experience.Armansky hesitated. The secret police are always making mistakes, which can be taken for granted, and it is completely natural, and not only the Swedish secret police, but probably all intelligence agencies around the world.The French secret police even sent frogmen to New Zealand to blow up the Greenpeace "Rainbow Warrior", for Christ's sake!It must have been the dumbest intelligence operation of all time, but it was probably second only to President Nixon's insane break-in at Watergate.With such an idiot leader, it is no wonder that scandals frequently occur.The successes of the secret police were never reported, but the media, with the benefit of hindsight, lashed out at anything inappropriate or stupid. On the one hand, the media regards the secret police as an excellent source of news, and almost every political mistake made by the government makes headlines: "The secret police suspects..." The secret police's rhetoric is very important in the headlines. On the other hand, politicians of all parties and the media have always condemned particularly severely when they learned of an exposed secret police spying on Swedish citizens.Armansky found this really contradictory.He had absolutely nothing against the existence of the secret police.Because someone has to be in charge of watching those National Bolshevik radicals, people who have read too much Bakunin - who cares who these neo-Nazis read - lest they make a bomb out of fertilizer and oil and put it in the Inside a van outside Rosenbart.The secret police were necessary, and Armansky didn't think there was anything wrong with a little surreptitious surveillance, as long as their purpose was to protect national security. The problem, of course, is that organizations assigned to spy on citizens must be subject to strict public scrutiny and must adhere to high standards of constitutional principles.However, it is almost impossible for members of Congress to monitor the secret police, and even when the prime minister appoints special investigators, it is likely that they will only have a nominal hand in everything.Armansky has a copy of Libam's "A Mission" written by Blomkvist in his hand, and the more he reads it, the more surprised he is.Had it happened in the United States, a dozen senior intelligence officers would have been arrested for obstruction of justice and forced to appear before public committees in Congress.But in Sweden, these people are clearly untouchable. The Salander case shows what appears to be disarray within the group.But when Blomkvist sent a security phone, Armansky's first thought was: This man is delusional.It wasn't until after listening to the detailed process and examining Christ's photos that he reluctantly admitted that Blomkvist's suspicion was justified.This is not a good omen, but it shows that the plot to get rid of Salander fifteen years ago is not a past tense. It would be too much to say that everything is a coincidence.Regardless of the possibility that Zarachenko was killed by a lunatic, when the murder happened, the most important documents that Blomkvist and Annika needed to prove were also stolen at the same time.This was bad enough, but the key witness Björk also hanged himself. "Okay, I can give this to the person I'm connecting with, right?" Armansky asked while sorting out Blomkvist's information. "You said this is someone you can trust?" "A man of the highest moral renown." "In the secret police world?" Blomkvist couldn't hide his doubts. "We must agree. Panglan and I both accept your plan and are willing to cooperate with you. But we can't figure out the whole thing alone. If we don't want to end in disaster, we have to find allies in government agencies." "Okay." Blomkvist reluctantly nodded in agreement. "I never reveal the data before the article is published." "In this case, though, you've revealed it. You've told me, your sister, and Pangem." "That's right." "You do this because even you understand that this is not just an exclusive of your magazine. This time, you are not an objective reporter, but a real participant in the unfolding events, so you need help. You can't win on your own." Blomkvist surrendered.He hadn't told Armansky or his sister the full truth anyway.He and Salander still had a secret or two that only the two of them knew. Finally he shook hands with Armansky.