~Chapter Four~
"Send units to every damn bank in Ystad!" Kurt slammed the file for Axelia Stulnasson's case onto his desk; throwing his hands to his head in frustration, growling through gritted teeth.
"Kurt you know we can't do that," Ann-Britt informed from across the desk with her arms folded across her chest. "If we send people to every bank, the unit that hits the bank that Magnus is at will be at risk and there won't be enough officers to handle the situation."
In the corner, Lisa shook her head again in disbelief of the situation. "This must be a case of Stockholm."
"Does it matter? One of our best officers is being held at bloody gunpoint and we're talking about the person who is holding him hostage? We should be out there looking for Magnus instead of just sitting here!" Wallander exclaimed.
"Kurt, that's enough!" Höglund snapped, making the Detective Inspector clasp his mouth shut and sit on the desk, glaring at the floor. There was a reason why she was a good mother. "Now, there is hardly any evidence to show that Axelia Stulnasson was a girl with violent tendencies before she was abducted. Lisa's right, Kurt. By understanding that the person that has Magnus right now is still a victim herself, we need to decide if negotiations are still possible for the situation."
"Ann-Britt is right, if this is a serious case of Stockholm Syndrome, Axelia Stulnasson may be willing to kill Magnus and herself in order to keep the identity of her own captors safe," Nyberg added. "But if she shot Magnus' phone instead of him, there's likely still reason and fight in her. The only question is which bank they are at?"
Tapping his fingers against the desk just like Magnus would, Kurt nodding in understanding. "And Martinsson is a good Detective; he'll know exactly what to do. That why he's a Detective."
"Detective Inspector, Kurt." Lisa corrected him solemnly.
"Right," he sighed and stood up, "Which bank could he have possibly gone to?"
"Well, it's Magnus, he can't have gone far."
"Nyberg!"
The pathologist put his hands up in frustration. "No, really! I'm just saying that Magnus knew he had to be back, so he would have gone to the closest bank to the station."
Kurt ran a hand through his hair and shook his head as he began to pace. "Why don't we look at the library? Or the bakery? Check and see if he made it there."
The four were so consumed in their work that they did something that was often overlooked if it wasn't for Martinsson. The phones were ringing and they were doing what they usually would and ignored it out of habit. Luckily, Ann-Britt and Magnus weren't so different from each other and didn't do things the 'usual' way.
Forcing herself between the two now-raging grown men, Lisa tried calming the feud down but her words fell on deaf ears. "Boys, settle down!"
"I wasn't insulting him; I was describing him, Kurt!" Nyberg barked as Kurt tried to force his way past Lisa to grab the frustrated man.
Kurt rolled his eyes and tried to advance towards him but was stopped by Lisa's surprisingly strong arm. "Yes, because talking about how sitting at his desk all day on the computer relating to his lack of exercise is definitely not insulting him."
"Well, he's not the only one suffering from lack of exercise." Nyberg snapped back, taking a step forward.
"Hey!" Ann-Britt called from the phone, trying to get everyone's attention.
Shooting a dark glare, Wallander gritted his teeth. "Well you're one to talk!"
Now trapped in the middle, Lisa tried to force her elbows up to give herself some air, but her actions went un-noticed and of no use.
Putting the phone against her shoulder and picking up her stack of pink post-it notes, Höglund showered the two feuding men and the trapped chief in them, her cheeks beginning to redden in frustration.
"Will you two just shut up?" Her voice groaned and Lisa took her chance and pushed her way through to the younger Detective while the other two lowered their fists. "We have a call, and luckily I answered the damn phone while you guys acting like children."
Shaking her head in disapproval, Ann-Britt pressed the speaker on the phone as Nyberg and Wallander took the little squares of paper off themselves.
"Well, thank God for Ann-Britt for picking the phone," the familiar, condescending tone whispered through the speaker, lifting everyone's smiles and Kurt came forward and stood by the desk. "Can you guys even hear the phone ringing?"
"Glad to hear your voice again, Magnus."
A sigh was heard. "Gosh, don't even get me started on yours, Kurt," he chuckled into the phone.
.
With Axelia lying down on the floor in front of the door to look out from beneath it, Magnus ran a hand through his hair as he stood in the corner with the cell phone. "I need to be quick, Kurt, they'll be back soon."
"What do you have, Martinsson?" Kurt asked in his normal affirmative tone.
"Five men armed with automatics and a pistol, ranging from the ages of twenty-two and forty. The leader is named Peter, and he is the one that's been holding Axelia Stulnasson for the last two years."
"And where is Axelia now?"
"Lying on the floor," he responded as he watched her give a little wave in his direction from her spot and the light bounce off the cuffs, keeping her attention on the sounds and shadows outside of the closet.
There was a pause on the other end. "Okay?" An uncertain tone replied and Magnus couldn't resist the urge to chuckle into the phone. "Anyways," Kurt continued. "Magnus, which bank are you at, are the any other hostages, and are you or Axelia hurt?"
"We're at Sparbanken Syd. There were thirteen other people taken hostage, eight people have been killed, there are five gunmen-"
"Six" Axelia cut him off, making Magnus frown and lower the phone.
"What?" Magnus looked at her as she flipped her head to look at him with a small smile.
"Only six people were murdered. Two of the people who got shot were still alive and got out with the others," she informed him and resumed her position, "It was that couple."
Smiling, Martinsson replace the phone at his ear. "Only six people have died, the others were able to get out. You'd have gotten phone calls from them by now."
"Alright, we'll be over there soon. And you still haven't answered my last question: Are you and Axelia alright, Magnus?" Martinsson could hear the father part of Kurt taking over in the man's voice and it warmed his heart to know that he cared about him like that.
Cleaning his still-trickling nose, the blonde gave a subconscious nod into the phone. "We're managing, but we're okay. Be sure to have a medic though, Kurt."
"Of course. We'll see you soon, Martinsson."
"Thanks, Kurt."
"Be safe."
"I'll try, just please get over here, Kurt. As fast as you can," Magnus glanced at Axelia and bit his lip. "Goodbye," he whispered and shut the phone, letting out a breath to try an calm the electricity in his nerves.
Pushing herself off the floor, Axelia marched over to the blonde as he sat against a filing cabinet and slid down to join him, holding her arms against her stomach and stared at the floor. Looking over, Martinsson tentatively reached over and touched her scarred wrists, making her flinch again on instinct but relax as he took her arm into his careful hands. He took extra care to not touch the hand cuffs surrounding them but could feel the raised lines around them with his fingers, crossing over each other like a chaotic game of tic-tac-toe. Beneath them were bruises of all colors, and some sickening fresh cuts and burns. Some even had what looked to be ash shoved into them, something that some tribal groups did.
"Does it hurt?" he asked, still cradling her wrists.
She shook her head, keeping her eyes on the floor and bit her cheek. "Not anymore," she finally responded and looked at his face, eyes following the path of the drying blood. "What about you? Does it still hurt?" A finger pointed to his nose in a hesitant gesture.
Despite the stinging pain, Magnus shook his head and force a weak smile. "No, not anymore…Axelia, thank you for the phone and getting those people out," he drew his hands away from hers; the feeling of her scars just didn't fit with her innocent visage. "But why didn't you leave with them? You wouldn't be stuck in here if you had left with the others, Axelia. You should've gone."
Axelia shook her head and looked across the room, lips quivering with emotion. "If I did, they would've killed you."
"A price I'm willing to pay if it means people stay alive," he growled a bit harsher than he intended.
Green eyes stared deeply into the blue ones and they were dead-serious with intent. "You don't deserve to die alone, Magnus Martinsson, you're too selfless and kind to deserve that misfortune."
The DI drew his eyes to the vents on the ceiling and nodded to them, trying to convince her otherwise. "You can still get out of here, Axelia. Those vents will lead outside and I know I can lift you to get into them. Please."
"No," Axelia replied sharply. "I'm not leaving. I go, you die. You're not making me leave this room so that you can die a hero. Now quit trying to," Magnus gave a weary glance to her, surprised by her affirming tone.
"Sorry," she added after a moment of silence, making Magnus chuckle. "That was mean."
"It wasn't, you deserve every right to say your opinion and I respect that. But please, Axelia, if something happens, don't feel you need to take responsibility for it. If something happens to me, it happened because I choose to let it happened."
Silence fell on the room, and they could hear the others pacing outside of the door; dial tones, boots, and mumbling.
"Did you…" Magnus started hesitantly, catching Axelia's attention. "Ever find out why they…took you?" he asked, feeling eggshells cracking underneath him.
Her lip twitched and she shifted uncomfortably on the cold floor, staring at her purple indented and raised skin. "Stefan and I just wanted to go out for lunch that day," she whispered, choking on some words and fought some tears. "We went to the café a few blocks from our school for lunch, but just as we were leaving, I realized that I had forgotten my coat and told Stefan to keep walking and that I'd catch up. Once I got out, I spotted him, so I started running to catch up. That's when I ran into Peter getting out of the van with the duffle bags," a tear streamed down her face and she took a quick glance at Magnus, who was listening to the young girl's story with a pitying look. She was just at the wrong place at the wrong time. "When I hit him, my boot got caught on the bag and when I fell, it ripped and some money fell out. He was leaning against the van, so I got up and ran to Stefan, and I didn't think Peter saw me; I just wanted to get away from him. I told Stefan what happened, we went back to school and we tried to call the police and they wrote an anonymous report and said to call again from home. Stefan said he'd walk me there just to be safe. Turned out Peter had seen me and my uniform and was waiting for me. We were just a block away when they grabbed me…and they made sure that I heard the shots."
Pieces fell in place and everything made sense, and it was chilling. Martinsson knew he should speak, but his tongue fell flat and his mouth just hung open. He was speechless because he had worked the phones that day and he had taken her and Stefan's anonymous call. When they didn't call back, he just assumed it was two teenagers playing a prank and backed down when they realized that it was taken seriously. Magnus never felt more guilt in his life.
Without thinking now, Magnus just let words slide off his tongue, feeling it was only fair. "We sent letters to your family. Telling them that we were still looking for you and that we'd never stop," a hand ran through his now slightly damp curls and settled on the side of his face. "We just sent one today. That's why I'm here."
"In sending a letter to my family, you found me," she chuckled, tucking her black hair behind her ear which Magnus began to look at solemnly.
Noticing his lingering gaze, she pulled a lock into her view, running her fingers through it. "They hate blondes and wanted to lessen the chance that people might recognize me," she added, "It worked."
"It'll come back," he assured her, "It'll just take some time."
Letting her head fall back against the cabinet, Axelia bit the inside of her bottom black lip, and rested her eyes on the ceiling. "How long have you been working my case, Magnus?" She asked dryly.
"Since the beginning," he answered.
Axelia let her head drift slightly. "And how long did it take for you to start to believe I was dead?"
The answer was as painful to him as it was to her. "Eight months."
"Because you couldn't find me."
"Because we couldn't find anything," he added with a shake of the head. "But I kept looking."
Small specks of color began to form on her cheeks, and Axelia looked at him with a blank stare. "Why?" She asked, but Magnus could see a corner of her lip raise in small happiness.
"Hope, bringing closure to your family, making the world safer," he answered, just saying what came to mind first, when he found a deeper reason that constantly drove him to do his job. "And because I'm a father."
She looked up in surprise. "There was just something in my mind telling me to keep looking, to keep trying, because if it were my daughter, I'd stop at nothing until I knew she was safe in my arms again," the two looked at each other for a moment and shared a battered smile. "I knew you were alive, but just where you could be was absolutely terrifying."
Nodding, Axelia looked with a new light in her eyes, as if life was re-igniting in her small, frail form. "I kept screaming for help, and they would beat me until my voice was hoarse or I blacked out. But I always kept screaming, thinking someone might hear me and that it would be over. They would blast music to drown out my voice…and because they liked a beat to go to," the last words barely caught Magnus' ear because it was so quiet, like a child speaking up about a nightmare and the sound just catching the air. She didn't even have to say what happened to make his stomach twist.
"It's just good to know that it was worth it," she breathed just as her voice hitched, eyelashes soaking up the wetness in her eyes but her make-up ran anyways. "Do you think they'll recognize me?"
Magnus smiled and brushed the dark wetness from under her eyes off with his finger. "Of course they will; you're their daughter."
Brushing her eyes with the back of her sleeve, she sniffed and gave a half-hearted chuckled that sounded more like a sigh. "You're quite the optimist, Magnus Martinsson."
"Teh…tell that to my co-worker," he chuckled, but felt his throat close when he heard something coming from outside of the closet.
Sirens.
Standing up immediately, Martinsson reached down and grabbed Axelia's arm. "Get up and get ready," he whispered as he carefully pulled her off the floor, taking care to not touch the handcuffs.
Re-adjusting his coat, Magnus turned to face the door just as the lock clicked and light flooded the room, making both of the hostages flinch. Someone stepped into the room, and they saw that it was the college student beckoning them forward with a gun in hand.
"Out. Now," the two put their hands up behind their heads and walked out, receiving a shove as they passed the young armed man and made their way into the lobby.
In the middle of the room, Peter stood in the middle of the lobby with a phone in hand. "Come on, get over here so that our new audience can see," he said a bit too joyfully.
Obeying the maniacal man, the Detective Inspector fired a glare at him and rubbed some of the dry blood off his face with his knuckle, anger flaring through him. The other four stood around the room, each carrying duffle bags which were presumably filled with money. In the corner, the bodies were piled on top of one and other as if they were tossed there. Through the window, he could see Kurt and Ann-Britt with their guns drawn and directed nod towards them that was supposed to re-assure them in some way that Magnus could think of at the moment. Holding Axelia roughly by her hair as she crumbled to her knees, Peter simply smiled at the blonde's rage and shove him to them floor to match her stance.
"Let the games begin, Mr. Martinsson," a sly tone announced as the landline began to ring in the degrading man's grasp.
Offering it to the kneeling detective, who took it roughly out of his hand instead of knocking the man's teeth out, wincing as he felt the gun pinch his side in the uncomfortable position. Giving a side-glance and small smile to Axelia who looked at the side of his coat where she noticed a small bulge and directed her eyes back to the floor before the others noticed, Magnus answered the phone.
"Hello?" The DI asked carefully, not sure how to begin the conversation with his superior.
The responding voice he soon heard was not the one he was expecting. "Hi, I was wondering when you close. I was hoping to open up a new account today," a female voice replied.
"Umm…Sorry, miss, today isn't exactly the…best day to come in. We're a bit busy with something right now, so could you please call back another time?"
"But-I need to-"babble started on the phone and Martinsson went very apologetic and began fanning the phone as if the calm the situation down. Peter and Axelia frowned at his actions in uncertainty and thoughts that the man had suddenly gone mad.
"No, ma'am, I don't work here and I'm sorry for the inconvenience, but trust when I say that you do not want to come to this bank today."
"But I always go to-"
Shaking his head in a mix of panic and apology, Magnus just gave up. "The police are here, and I have to go. Sorry, but you'll have to try another bank. Bye," he pushed the END button in annoyance and handed it back to Peter. "Why don't we just get them to give us a radio, so that there aren't any interruptions and we can lessen the bill for the bank?"
"Fine," Peter rolled his eyes and grabbed Magnus by his collar, letting Axelia sink to the floor, and headed to the door with the struggling blonde in front of him and opened the door, making Kurt and everyone else raise their guns.
Calming himself internally, Martinsson tried to keep his internal self from showing to his co-workers. "Radio?" He asked casually and a young cadet slid his over to Magnus' feet.
Warm breathe crawled into his ear. "Pick it up. Or she dies," he saw Peter nod in Ann-Britt's direction, and Magnus nodded, leaning to the side and gently grabbed the radio. Once he had it in his hands, he felt a sharp jerk on his collar and winced as he was pulled back into the lobby.
"Channel six," Peter called, and Kurt simply nodded and picked up his radio.
Resuming his position on his knees, he felt the hand leave his coat and brought the radio to his face.
"Kurt," he licked his lips, trying to find the right words to start the negotiation. "Don't shoot the bastard yet."
A rough blow came down on the left side of the blonde's face, making him spit blood on the ground and roll his eyes up to Peter's. "I just saved your life, you're welcome," his familiar sarcastic tone rolled off his tongue and Kurt couldn't help but scoffed into the radio as the younger continued. "These guys want to make a deal with you, Kurt."
"Isn't that how it always is?"
~Chapter Four~
Author's Note: This would've been up sooner but my laptop had problems and wouldn't charge. It died, and I could type. Apologies all around. Stupid technology. Magnus, fix it-oh right, fictional character…stupid reality…