273 Chapter six, 2017, spring break: 10 (1/2)

Just outside Hiroshima Ulf heard a voice calling his name. His real name, not the Japanese pronunciation of it.

'What the hell?'

He stood by his bike outside a convenience store, and there just wasn't any way he could pretend he hadn't heard.

'How did they find me? Oh well, I guess it was bound to happen.'

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”Who's asking,” he said.

”I am,” a man in his forties answered in Swedish.

'An arrival? Bloody hell, it's Christina's grandpa!'

”You took ages to track down, but just vanishing off the net won't stop someone like me. I'm too old for that crap anyway.”

He would be. Ninety, a hundred? Well, something like that. ”What do you want, Mitsuo?” Ulf said, likewise in Swedish.

”They're looking for you, your friends you know.”

Ulf nodded. He knew. ”What about it?” He couldn't depend on their friendship just yet, so he tried to sound as callous as possible.

”I heard you hurt my Tina.”

'So he's here on a revenge trip.' ”She hurt herself. I helped,” Ulf admitted. Thinking of her ripped a hole in his heart.

”I heard she hurt you,” Mitsuo said.

'OK, so not a revenge trip after all.' ”We weren't too smart, I guess,” Ulf said. ”Too late now.”

Mitsuo shrugged. ”I disagree. When they're dead, or you've transited, then it's too late, and sometimes not even then.”

Ulf suspected Mitsuo thought of how he met Christina in this world. ”That's not why you had me tracked down, is it Mitsuo?”

Mitsuo smirked. ”No,” he agreed. ”It's not. I think you're both idiots, but I'm no matchmaker. I need to speak with you about killing.”

”I already made it clear that murders are unacceptable.”

”Does that include those directly involved in the attack on your friends?”

Ulf took a deep breath. For a moment he hesitated. Those directly involved. That would include the one who shot Amaya's friend. For a short time he fought a battle in his mind. His Swedish pacifist upbringing versus what had happened.

”Ulf, I need an answer.”

”Wait!” 'The morally right thing to do, or the right thing to do?' ”Kill them!” he said to his own surprise, and for the first time since the kidnapping attempt he remembered the sound of gunshots in the car he rode. How his daughter received the wounds she eventually died from. ”Kill them all!”

”Whoa! Now you wait a moment. What do you mean by all?”

”Only those directly involved. Take them out. No torture, no talking, no nothing. Just kill them!”