Chapter 12

Once in the office, Hernandez picked up the phone, and asked to be sent the recordings of the surveillance cameras of the three nearest light rail stations. She sorted the recordings and began to watch them.

Just over an hour had passed when Lara Meyer approached Erik’s desk.

”The boss wants to see you,“ she announced.

Erik clicked the pause button on the video running on his computer. ”Did he say why?“

Meyer shook her head: “ No. But I have the impression that he’s in a very bad mood.”

Erik winced and turned to Zoe, who was staring at him with worry.

”It must be something about yesterday’s operation, nothing to be concerned about,” he said to reassure her.

Then he followed Lara, who was returning to the legal department, which was on the way to Hoffman’s office. Her hair, mostly black but with many silvery strands, swayed as it brushed her shoulders.

She really has beautiful hair, he thought dreamily.

Reluctantly, Erik veered toward Hoffman's office; the boss was on the phone but he gestured for him to enter and close the door behind him.

While he was waiting for his superior to end the phone call, he wondered why he had been summoned. Perhaps Hoffman was aware of the independent research that he and Zoe Hernandez had set up, and if so, was he about to be reprimanded for a deliberate breaking of orders? Technically Erik had done nothing more than follow the normal procedures for the search of an alleged infected, though...

“Well, Persson,” Hoffman's voice interrupted his train of thought, “I’ve been wanting to talk to you for a while,” he announced in an unconvincingly amiable manner.

He took off the headset he used for phone calls and set it on the desk, then carefully crossed his legs. It was clearly all aimed to pass more time and make Erik uncomfortable. This was one of the many ways in which Hoffman tried to make people feel his authority. His whole demeanour was packed with those little mannerisms; for example the fact that he showed up at meetings always in a hurry, as if he had just come from another appointment, a much more important one, or treating people from which he wanted to get something like buddies, and all the rest like trash.

Erik thought it was pathetic.

In any case, he waited patiently for Hoffman to finish his little show, thinking longingly at the half cigarette that he still had in the pocket of his coat.

”The fact is... “ Hoffman began, with deliberate slowness, “... that there is an issue that concerns me about this office.”

“Oh,” Erik merely remarked.

He had discovered long before that exhibiting a polite incredulity was the best way to make Hoffman get to the point.

“I’m discussing this with you because you're one of the few people whom I can trust... “

Probably you say the same thing to everyone, Erik thought.

”...but the fact is that I fear that there is a leak of information from this department.”

Erik's back stiffened, and he immediately felt alarmed.

This was not one of Hoffman’s frivolous preoccupations, but something serious. “What makes you think that?” he asked. “Does it have something to do with the two suspects who escaped yesterday, because if so... “

“No, no,“ his boss interrupted him. “Those two have nothing to do with this. Others will take care of it, people from the first ring or something like that... they have nothing to do with us.”

While Erik digested this new information, Hoffman straightened in his chair, leaning toward him: “I have analysed all the latest operations we made in the third ring. With each of them we had some sort of encounter with the rebels... It's as if every time they knew where we would strike,” he said, handing Erik a dossier.

Erik quickly flipped through it, and to his surprise he realized there were other coincidences he hadn’t thought of. Hoffman could very well be an insufferable dandy, but it seemed that behind that pompous facade he was hiding a more analytical mind than Erik had initially given him credit for.

”Do you have any idea who could... where, uh, could the information leakage come from?” he asked.

“Oh, Erik, I’m not accusing you, don’t worry,” Hoffman hastened to clarify. “Look, Persson... I mentioned this to you because I know you're a person I can trust completely. Geez, everybody knows that there is no one else who is as committed to stopping those damn infected as you are! I know that this conversation will remain between us. However...“ Hoffman went on with a dramatic sigh, “How long have you known Zoe Hernandez?”

The question left Erik speechless.

Among all the people he had considered as a possible spy, he never thought it could be Zoe.

“A year... a year and a half... why?”

“Well, the encounters with the rebels during our operations began a few months after her arrival. That is very suspicious, don’t you think?”

Erik shrugged, not knowing what to say.

”And then... she might be a decent officer, or at least so it seems, but,“ here Hoffman made a grimace, “she’s still PIGS, isn’t’ she? Better not to trust those folks.”

PIGS was the derogatory nickname that indicated the citizens of Europa whose ancestry came from Mediterranean countries: Portugal, Italy, Greece and Spain.

They were a minority and stereotypes labelled them as noisy, dirty and poorly organized. Erik thought that was a pile of rubbish, prejudices that were handed down from centuries ago, but people like Hoffman still looked down on those who did not have a French, German, Nordic or Anglo-Saxon surname.

”So, what do you think?” Hoffman pressed him.

Erik felt confused: “Honestly I don’t know. Hernandez has always seemed a very good officer and an honest person to me. I would be really surprised if I found out she has anything to do with the rebels,” he answered.

Hoffman appeared disappointed: “Well, I leave the file with you. Maybe you should take it home; do not leave it lying around on your desk. And don’t show it to anyone. Meanwhile, think about what I told you, and let me know if you notice any suspicious behaviour.”

Erik nodded and, a moment later, found himself ushered out of Hoffman’s office.

He went back to his desk in a trance. He could not believe that Zoe was the mole.

She was the person who had made him suspect the presence of an infiltrator in the first place! Why would she do that if she was the spy? Unless it was some astute ploy to confuse him, perhaps anticipating that Hoffman would mark her as a suspect.

Yet it seemed incredible... Hernandez was the only person who really tried to capture the two suspects who were on the loose, while Hoffman did nothing about it except give out nebulous and dubious directions.

What if Hoffman initiated this discussion on purpose to divert attention from himself and at the same time make Hernandez seem less credible?

“What did the boss say?” Zoe Hernandez asked when she saw Erik coming back.

For a moment Erik toyed with the idea of telling her the truth, but then changed his mind.

He hunched his shoulders: “Um, nothing special. He just showed me some reports about how efficient we are and how we should all strive for more.”

Hernandez rolled her eyes: “Go figure! Anyway , I have good news.”

“Really? What?”

Zoe turned the screen in his direction to show him two images: one was that of a young woman, about twenty-five years old, who pulled up the hood of a sweatshirt that had momentarily slipped down, probably due to the rush of air caused by an arriving train. The other was an older woman who had taken off her hat for a moment to arrange her hair. Both were on the same platform, though each had a wagon with a different number next to her.

Hernandez could not suppress a smile: “Got them... they took a train to the sixth ring.”