Chapter 13 Chapter Thirteen

On Tuesday morning, Figuelaura woke up at 6:10, jogged along Melastran North Road for a long distance, went home to take a shower, and clocked in at the Police Headquarters at 8:10.She had prepared a memorandum, writing down the conclusions reached the day before. At nine o'clock, Ai Kelinte came, and she waited for him to deal with the letter first, and then knocked on the door twenty minutes later.After he reads her four-page report, at last, he looks up. He said, "Secretary." "He must have approved Mo Tiansen's loan, so even though the personal security team said that Mo Tiansen was in the anti-intermediary team, he must also know that he is not there."

Ai Kelinte took off his glasses and wiped them carefully with a paper towel.He and Secretary General Albert Schenk had met countless times at parties and internal meetings, but they could not be called acquainted.Schenk is a short man with thinning reddish-blond hair who has gained weight by now.He was about fifty-five years old and had been with the NSA for at least twenty-five years, possibly longer.He has served as Secretary-General for ten years and before that as Deputy Secretary-General.Ai Kelinte felt that he was a man of few words, but he could be cruel when necessary.He doesn't know what he does in his spare time, but he remembers seeing him in casual clothes in the police garage once, with a golf bag slung over his shoulder.Another time I ran into him unexpectedly at the opera house.

"One thing suddenly occurred to me," said Figuelaura. "What's up?" "Gulbo. He served in the forties and became an accountant or something and disappeared in the fifties." "so what?" "When we talked yesterday, it seemed like he was some kind of professional killer." "Sounds far-fetched, I know, but..." "What I thought was that there was so little background on him, it was almost like a smoke screen. During the 1950s and 1960s, both the NSA and MI had set up outside cover companies." "I'm curious when you thought of it." Aikelint said.

"I want to apply for permission to look at the profile of the fifties," Figuelaura said. "No," Ai Kelinte shook his head and vetoed. "If you want to see the file, you have to get the approval of the Secretary-General. Before we get more data, we can't attract attention." "Then what's next?" "Mottensen," Akellint said, "find out what he's doing now." While Salander was studying the transom in the room, she heard the sound of a key turning at the door, and it was Jonathan who entered.It was past ten o'clock on Tuesday night, and she was trying to figure out how to escape from Sogenska Hospital, but he interrupted her.

She measured the size of the window and found that her head could go in, so it shouldn't be a big problem to squeeze other parts of her body in.This place is three stories high from the ground, but as long as the bed sheet is torn and a three-meter-long standing lamp is used to assist, it should be fine. She planned her escape step by step.The question is what to wear?She has half-length underpants, hospital pajamas, and a pair of plastic slippers she managed to borrow.She had two hundred crowns in cash that Annika had lent her to buy sweets from the hospital snack shop, and if she could find a Salvation Army store in Gothenburg, that should be enough to buy a pair of cheap jeans and a T-shirt.The rest of the money has to be used to call the plague, then everything will be fine.She intends to arrive in Gibraltar a few days after her escape and create a new identity of another nationality from there.

Jonathan sat in the visitor chair, she on the edge of the bed. "Hello, Liz. I'm sorry I haven't seen you these days. The emergency room is really busy, and I have to bring some interns." She did not expect that Jonathan would come to see her specially. He picked up the medical records and looked closely at her thermometer and medication records. The temperature was very stable, between 37 degrees and 37 degrees 2, and she hadn't taken any headache medicine for the last week. "Dr. Andlin is your attending doctor, do you get on well with her?" "She's fine." Salander said flatly.

"May I check for you?" She nodded.He took out a pen-type flashlight from his pocket and bent over to shine on her eyes to see how the pupils were opening and closing.Then ask her to open her mouth and check her throat.Then he gently hugged her neck with both hands, and turned around a few times. "Does your neck hurt?" he asked. She shook her head. "How's the headache?" "It still hurts occasionally, but it passes quickly." "You're still recovering, and in the end you won't have any headaches at all." Her hair was still short, and she didn't need to flick the locks to feel the scar above her ear.Although it is slowly recovering, there is still a small scab.

"You've been scratching your wounds, don't do that." She nodded.He grabs her left elbow and lifts his arm up. "Can you lift it yourself?" She raised her arms. "Do you feel pain or discomfort in your shoulder?" She shook her head. "Do you feel tight?" "A little." "I think you need to do a little more shoulder rehab." "It's hard being locked up here." He smiled slightly. "It won't be long. Have you followed the physical therapist's advice?" She nodded. He first pressed the stethoscope on his wrist to let it warm up, then sat on the edge of the bed and unbuttoned Salander's pajamas, listening to her heartbeat and taking her pulse.He told her to lean forward and put the stethoscope on her back to listen to her lungs.

"Cough." She coughed. "Okay, you can put on your pajamas and go to bed. From a medical point of view, you're pretty much recovered." She thought he would get up and say he would come back in a few days, but she didn't expect him to continue sitting by the bed, seeming thoughtful.Salander waited patiently. "Do you know why I am a doctor?" She shook her head. "I came from a working family and always thought I wanted to be a doctor. When I was a teenager, I actually thought about being a psychiatrist. I was so smart." As soon as he said the word "psychiatrist," Salander looked at him alertly.

"I wasn't sure I'd be able to handle school, though. So after graduation, I learned to weld, and even worked as a welder for a few years. I figured it would be nice to have a back-up specialty if medical school didn't work out. And being a welder It’s kind of like being a doctor, it’s all about fixing things. Now I’m fixing people like you in Sogenska.” She wasn't sure if he was playing tricks on her. "Liz...I was thinking..." He was silent for a long time, and Salander could hardly help asking him what he was thinking.Still, she waited for him to speak. "Would you be mad at me if I asked you a personal question? I want to ask you as a person, not as a doctor, and no record will be left of your answer, and I will not tell anyone else. If It's okay if you don't want to answer."

"what is the problem?" "Ever since you were locked up at St. Stephen's at the age of twelve, you have refused any psychiatrist who has tried to talk to you. Why?" Salander's eyes became a little sad, but she still didn't show any emotion when facing Jonathan.She sat quietly for two minutes. "Why do you ask this?" she finally said. "To be honest, I'm not sure. I probably want to know something." Her lips curled up slightly. "I don't talk to crazy doctors because they never listen to me." Jonathan laughed. "Okay, so tell me... what do you think of Tyler Pollyan?" Jonathan threw the name out of the blue, and Salander almost jumped up.She narrowed her eyes. "What the hell is going on, quizzes? What do you want to do?" Her voice was as rough as sandpaper. Jonathan leaned forward, too close. "Because there is a Tyler Pollyan...what do you say...the crazy doctor, who is quite famous in our industry, he came to see me twice a few days ago, trying to persuade me to let him examine you. " Salander immediately felt a chill run down her spine. "The Magistrates Court will appoint him to carry out a mental state assessment on you." "so what?" "I don't like this guy, I told him he can't see you. Last time he showed up in the ward without warning and tried to convince the nurse to let him in." Salander's lips were tightly shut. "He's acting a little oddly, and a little urgently. So I'd like to know what you think of him." This time it was Jonathan's turn to wait patiently for Salander's answer. "Tyler Pollyan is a beast," she said at last. "Is there any personal grudge between you?" "you could put it that way." "Another official came to talk to me and wanted me to let Tyler Pollyan see you." "The results of it?" "I asked him what kind of medical professional can evaluate your situation, and then told him to die. Of course, my tone was tactful. The last question, why are you willing to talk to me?" "You're asking me a question aren't you?" "Yes, but I'm a doctor and I've studied psychiatry. Why would you want to talk to me? May I assume you have some degree of confidence in me?" She didn't answer. "Then I decided to read it this way. I want you to know this: You are my patient, which means I work for you and no one else." She looked at him suspiciously, and he looked back at her for a moment, then said in a more relaxed tone: "Like I said, from a medical point of view, you can be considered a healthy person, and you don't need to recover for a few weeks. It's a pity that it's too healthy." "Why is it a pity?" He smiled brightly and said, "You're getting better so quickly." "What's the meaning?" "Meaning I don't have a valid reason to keep you here. Prosecutors will transfer you to a detention center in Stockholm shortly to await your trial in six weeks. I'm guessing a request will be made next week. Which means Taylor Pollyan will have a chance to watch you." She sits still.Jonathan seemed a little distracted, and he leaned over to arrange the pillow for her, talking as if to himself. "You no longer have a headache or a fever, so Dr. Andlin will probably discharge you." He stood up suddenly as he spoke. "Thank you for your willingness to talk to me, and I will see you again before you are transferred." He had already reached the door before Salander spoke. "Doctor Jonathan." He turned around. "Thank you." He nodded slightly, then went out and locked the door. Salander stared at the locked door for a long time, then lay down and stared at the ceiling again. Then she suddenly felt something hard under the pillow.She picked up the pillow and accidentally found a small cloth bag that had never existed before.She opened it and stared at the Palm T3 handheld computer and charger in disbelief, then took a closer look and found a small scratch on the upper left corner of the computer.Her heart skipped a beat.It's my PDA, but why... She glanced at the locked door in surprise.Jonathan is truly a character full of surprises.She was so excited that she turned on the computer and found that it was password protected. She stared in frustration at the flickering screen, as if challenging her.How could they think I could... At this moment, she looked inside the small cloth bag and found a folded piece of paper at the bottom.She opened the paper, and there was a line of words in beautiful handwriting on it: You are a hacker, find a way to unlock it!Little detective B For the first time in weeks, Salander laughed out loud.sharp!She thought for a few seconds, picked up the stylus and wrote down the number combination "9277", which happened to be the corresponding number on the keyboard of the four letters WASP (Wasp). Trespassed into her apartment on Fiskar Street, set off the alarm and was forced to guess the number. wrong. She tried "52553" again, which corresponds to the letters KALLE (little detective). Not right either.Since Blomkvist intended her to use the computer, the chosen password must not be too difficult to guess.He signed himself "Little Detective," a nickname he had always hated.She thought about it for a while, and she was sure it was some kind of insulting word.So she typed "Seven Four Seven Seven Four" for PIPPI, damn Pippi Longstocking. The computer starts up. First, a smiley logo appears on the screen, with a comic speech bubble next to it: You see, it's not difficult.It is recommended that you click into the saved document. She found a "Hi, Liz" document at the top, so she clicked on it: Disclaimer first, this is a secret between you and me.Your lawyer, my sister Annika, didn't know you had this computer.Keep it secret. I don't know how much you know about what's going on outside your locked ward, but it's odd that (despite your eccentricity) there's a whole bunch of loyal morons out there willing to do what they can for you.I've started an elite society called "Samurai at the Stupid Table", and we have an annual dinner party where we have fun talking bad about you. (Sorry, you were not included in the invite list.) well, let's get back to business.Annika is doing her best to prepare for your court work.Of course, there's the catch: she's also bound by those damned oaths of secrecy while working for you, so she can't tell me what you guys talked about, which would be a little inconvenient.Fortunately, she was still open to receiving information. I have to talk to you. Do not send to my e-mail. Maybe I'm poor and nervous, but I have reason to suspect that I'm not the only one who can see the letter in that mailbox.If you want to post something, go to the Yahoo community "Stupid Table".The account number is Pippi, and the password is p9i2p7p7i.Michael Salander read the letter twice, staring at the computer in bewilderment.After this period of life without a computer, she has had enough of being banned from the Internet.But she really didn't understand which toe Blomkvist was thinking with, and secretly slipped a computer to her, forgetting that she needed a mobile phone to connect. While thinking hard, she heard footsteps in the corridor, she quickly turned off the computer and stuffed it under the pillow.Only when I heard the sound of the key opening the door did I realize that the cloth bag and charger were still on the bedside table.She reached out and grabbed the cloth bag and hid it under the quilt, while the wires were clamped between her legs.When the night shift nurse entered the room, she lay obediently and looked up at the ceiling. The nurse greeted her politely and asked her how she felt and if she needed anything. Salander replied that she was fine and would like a pack of cigarettes.The nurse refused her request firmly but kindly, and instead gave her a pack of nicotine gum.When the nurse closed the door, Salander glanced at the guard sitting in the corridor.She waited until the nurse's footsteps faded away before picking up the handheld again. She turned on the power and searched online. When the computer suddenly showed that the connection had been established, she seemed to be frightened.Connected to the Internet, incredible. She jumped out of bed at once, but she hurt her injured hip by jumping too fast.She looked around the room.how could be?She went around, checking every corner.No, there are no mobile phones in the room.But she was able to connect.At this time, she suddenly showed a strange smile.This is a wireless control connection, using Bluetooth with a detection range of ten to twelve meters to connect to the mobile phone.Her eyes inadvertently noticed a vent directly below the ceiling. The bastard little detective used some method to place a mobile phone outside her room.This is the only explanation that makes sense. But why not just sneak in the phone along with it?Ah, yes, batteries. The handheld only needs to be charged once every three days.A mobile phone that is connected to the Internet will run out of battery soon if it is heavily connected to the Internet.Blomkvist—or rather someone in his employ who was out there—had to change the batteries regularly. But he also sent in the charger for the computer.He is not so stupid. Salander began to think about where to put the computer. She needed to find a hiding place.There were sockets by the door and on the wainscot behind the bed that powered her bedside lamp and electric clock.There is also an alcove that originally housed a radio.She smiled.Chargers and computers can fit in there.She can use the outlet in the bedside table to keep the computer charged during the day. Salander was overjoyed.It was the first time in two months that she turned on the computer and surfed the Internet leisurely, and her heart was beating so hard. Surfing the web with the tiny screen and stylus of a PDA is not the same as surfing the web with the seventeen-inch screen of a powerful laptop.But she finally connected online.Now she has access to the world from Sogernska's hospital bed. She started by going to a rather boring website full of rather uninteresting photographs taken by an obscure and less-than-skilled photographer, Jill Bates, in Jobsville, Pennsylvania.Salander had verified that there was no such place as Jobsville.Bates, however, took more than two hundred photos and created a small album of thumbnails.She scrolled down to the one hundred and sixty-seventh photo, clicked to enlarge it, and it showed the church in Jobsville.She moved the cursor to the church steeple and clicked, and a dialog box popped up immediately, asking for a user name and password.She took out her stylus and wrote "Remarkable" in the name field and "A(89)Cx#magnolia" in the password field on the screen. A dialog box appears saying "ERROR wrong password", and a button that says "OK - try again". Salander knew that if she pressed the "OK" button and tried another password, the same dialog box would still pop up, no matter how many years she tried All the same. So she clicks on the "O" of "ERROR". The screen went blank for a moment, and then an animated door opened, and a figure resembling Lara Croft from the video game "Tomb Raider" stepped out of it.She asked with a speech bubble: "Who are you?" She clicked into the bubble, wrote "Wasp", and immediately got a response: "Prove it, or..." Laura in the animation then pulled the safety of the gun.Salander knew that this threat was not just a casual talk.If you write the wrong password three times in a row, the website will be shut down, and the name "Wasp" will be deleted from the membership list.So she carefully wrote down the password "MonkeyBusiness". The screen changed again, now with a blue background and a text: Citizen Wasp, welcome to the Republic of Hackers.It has been fifty-six days since your last visit.Eleven citizens are currently online.Do you want to 1. browse chat rooms; 2. send messages; 3. search archives; 4. chat; 5. have sex? She clicked "Four. Chat", and then entered the "Who is online?" menu, and saw a string of names: Andy, Bambi, Dakota, Jabba, Buck Rogers, Datura, Pride, Slippery, Sister Zhen, Banjin and Sany. Wasp wrote. Ban Jin wrote. Trinity wrote. Dakota wrote. Salander wasn't so sure, but suspected that Dakota was a woman.The other citizens online, including the one who calls herself Sister Jane, are all boys.Hacker Republic (when she was last online) has sixty-two citizens, four of whom are women. Wasp wrote. Dakota wrote. Trinity wrote. He was immediately surrounded by five people. Of the sixty-two people, Hornets met only two.One is the plague, which is not online for some reason.The other is Trinity.He is British and lives in London.She had met him for a few hours two years ago when she and Blomkvist were tracking Hayley Van Yeer and asked him to help with an illegal wiretap at a St. Albans residence.Salander fumbled with the stylus, wishing she had a keyboard. Mandala wrote. She tapped the letters. Praed wrote. slippery wrote. The three of them scrambled to ask questions at the same time. Salander briefly described her situation in five lines, and everyone seemed to be muttering to themselves worriedly. Trinity asked. Bambi wrote. Sister Jane writes, and then there is a rush of discrediting the Wasp's intelligence.Salander couldn't help smiling.Finally Dakota got back to business. Ban Jin wrote. Wasp replied. Mandala wrote. Citizens of Hacker Republic don't usually spread computer viruses, on the contrary, because they are hackers, they are sworn enemies of idiots who create viruses just to disrupt the network and destroy computers.These citizens are information addicts and just want a functioning Internet to hack. But their proposal to shut down the Swedish government is no bluff.The Republic of Hackers is not a club that everyone can join, but an elite force composed of top players. The defense units of all countries in the world will be willing to ask them to assist in network military technology at sky-high prices, as long as they can convince these citizens Certain countries generate loyalty.But that's very unlikely. All of them are computer whiz, proficient at designing viruses, and if the situation requires it, they can be thrown into a special activity without much fuss.A few years ago, a citizen of Hacker Republic — who usually works in software development in California — was swindled out of patents by a startup dot-com company that had the nerve to take him to court.The incident kept activists in the Republic awake for six months, hacking and destroying every computer in that company.All the secrets and e-mails inside the company—plus some bogus documents that might lead one to think the president was involved in tax evasion—are happily posted online, along with the now-less-so-secret A message from his mistress and several photos of a Hollywood party where the president can be seen snorting cocaine.The company finally closed down after six months, but even after several years, several "volunteers" who can hold vengeance in the Republic of Hackers are still searching for the whereabouts of the former president. If fifty of the world's top hackers decide to join forces to attack a country, the country may not perish, but it will inevitably face serious problems.As long as Salander nodded, billions of dollars in losses would definitely not escape.She thought about it. Dakota wrote. Mandala wrote. Bambi wrote. Trinity wrote. Salander lay on the pillow, watching everyone's conversation with a smile.She really didn't understand why it was so difficult for her to talk about herself with a real person of flesh and blood, but she was able to confide her most intimate thoughts to this group of complete strangers on the Internet.In fact, these lunatics could be called Salander's family or a group that she could identify with.It was unlikely that any of them would help her resolve her problems with the Swedish government, but she knew they would spend their time and energy, if needed, in a real show of their strength.Through this network, she can also find hideouts abroad.At the beginning, it was through the relationship of the plague on the Internet that she got a Norwegian passport of Neisser. Salander had no idea who the citizens of the hacker republic were, and she only had a vague idea of ​​what they were doing offline—citizens were vague about their identities.Banjin once said that he is black, an American male Catholic, and lives in Toronto.He is also likely to be a white female Lutheran who lives in Skövde, Sweden. She is most familiar with the plague.He was the one who introduced her into this family, and no one can join this exclusive club unless someone strongly recommends her.And to become a member, you must know a citizen. On the web, Plague is a smart, gregarious citizen.In real life he was an extremely obese and socially handicapped thirty-year-old man living in Sundbyberg on disability assistance.He rarely showers and the apartment smells like a monkey cage.Salander always went to see him only after a long time, and she would rather only communicate with him on the Internet. While continuing to chat, Wasp was downloading emails sent to her private mailbox in Hacker Republic.One was from another member, "Poison," with an attached version of her Asphyxia l. The Asphyxia program can control other people's computers through the network.Poison says he has used it successfully, and his upgrades cover the latest versions of Unix, Apple, and Windows.Salander sent a short reply letter thanking him for upgrading the version. In the next hour, as the United States entered the night, another six or seven citizens came online, welcoming the Hornets back to the team before joining the discussion.When Salander was about to log off, everyone was discussing whether it was possible to use the Swedish Prime Minister's computer to send polite but crazy emails to other heads of state, and then formed an operation team to investigate.Before going offline, Salander wrote a text message: Hugs and kisses were sent to say goodbye to her, and the hole in her head was reminded to keep warm. Salander joined Yahoo and logged into the private community "Stupid Table" after she got offline from the Republic of Hackers.She found that there were only two members: herself and Blomkvist.There is a message in the mailbox, which was sent on May 15th, and the subject line reads: "Look at this first." Hi Liz: The current situation is as follows: The police haven't found your apartment yet, and they haven't got Bierman's rape DVD.This disc is very strong evidence, and I don't want to give it to Annika without your permission.I have the keys to your apartment and a passport in Neisser's name. But the backpack you carried to Gosseberga is indeed in the hands of the police.I don't know if there is anything in it that cannot be leaked. Salander thought about it for a moment, and felt that there should not be any.A half-empty coffee pot, a few apples, a few changes of laundry.no problem. You'd be indicted for grievous injury or attempted homicide to Zarachenko, and grievous injury to Landin at Stahlhermann because you shot him in the foot and broke his jaw.But the evidence in each case was murky, according to reliable police sources.The following things are important: 1. Zarachenko denied everything before being shot, claiming that Niederman must have shot and buried you alive.He also sued you for attempting to murder him.The prosecutor will insist that this is your second attempt to kill him. 2. Neither Landing nor Niminan said a word about what happened to Staller Hermann.Landing was arrested for kidnapping Miriam, and Niminan was released. Salander had discussed all of this with Annika, and it was nothing new.She had told Annika what had happened in Gosseberga, but she had never mentioned Bierman. I think you don't understand the rules of the game yet. Is such that.Zarachenko had taken refuge under the wing of the secret police during the Cold War, and for fifteen years had always been protected no matter what the catastrophe.Some people depend on Zarachenko for their career prospects, so they have cleaned up countless messes for him.It's all crime: Swedish officials help conceal crimes committed against individual citizens. Should things break out, both the Conservatives and the Social Democrats would be exposed to scandal, and especially the top secret police would be exposed as complicit in crime and immorality.Although some crimes have passed the prosecution period, they will still cause scandals.The heavyweights involved are either retired or about to retire. They will do everything they can to mitigate the damage they and their men suffer, which means you will once again be their pawn.But this time the point is not to give up a pawn, but to actively minimize your own personal damage.So I have to lock you up again. That's how things will evolve.They knew that Zarachenko's secret could not be kept for much longer.I've written the report and they know I'll publish it sooner or later.Of course, now that everyone else is dead, it doesn't really matter.What they care about is their own survival, so the following will be their priorities: 1. They had to convince the District Court (actually, the general public) that the decision to send you to St. Stephen's in 1991 was legal and that there was something mentally wrong with you. 2. They must separate the "Sarande Incident" from the "Zalachenko Incident".They'll try to create a situation where they can say, "Yes, Zarachenko is a monster, but that has nothing to do with the decision to lock up his daughter. She's locked up for insanity — anything to the contrary is those Pathological fantasies of acrimonious journalists. No, we did not help Zarachenko commit any crimes, that was the delusions of a mentally disturbed teenage girl." 3. The problem is that if you are released, it means that the district court thinks that you are not only innocent but also not crazy, and it also means that the decision to imprison you in 1991 was illegal.So they will definitely put you in a mental hospital at all costs.If the court decides that you are mentally ill, the media's interest in continuing to dig up the "Salander affair" will gradually fade.This is how the media works. do you understand? She had thought of all this herself, but the problem was that she didn't know what to do. Liz, let's be honest, this battle is going to be fought in the media, not in the courts.It's a pity that spectators will be banned during the trial in order to "protect your privacy." On the day Zalachenko was shot, my home was burglarized.The lock hadn't been picked, and nothing had been touched or moved, with one exception.The binder containing Björk's report from Björmann's summer house is missing.At the same time, my sister was also attacked, and a copy of the report was taken from her hand.That binder is your most important exhibit. I'm breaking the news that our Zaraqenko data is missing.In fact, I have a third copy, which was supposed to be given to Armansky.So I made a few more copies and hid them in safe places. Our opponents—among them several high-ranking individuals and certain psychiatrists—are of course also preparing for the trial with Prosecutor Extron.I have a source that has provided me with information on the developments, but I think you should have a better chance of finding out.It's urgent. The prosecutor will try to put you in a psychiatric institution, assisted by your old friend Tyler Pollyan. Prosecutors can leak information as they see fit (and they do), but Annika can't fight this kind of media battle, she's completely tied. But this limitation doesn't bother me.I can write whatever I want, and I have a whole magazine at my disposal. However, two important details are still missing: One, I need something to prove that Prosecutor Extron is in some way inappropriately working with Tyler Polian to put you in the madhouse again.I wish I could be on any talk tv show, release the profile, and debunk the prosecutors. Two, to fight the media war, I have to speak openly about things that you might consider private.With all the bad press you've had since Easter, it's probably overestimating the situation to stay out of the way.I have to rebuild a brand new media image for you, even if you think it is an invasion of your privacy, of course it is best to get your consent.do you understand me? She opened the folder in "Stupid Desk", and there were twenty-six documents in it.