“I need you. One last operation.”

“I can’t.”

“Yes, you can. And you can still spend nine hours every other day on dialysis. You can take the lift instead of going up the stairs. I’ll even arrange for somebody to carry you back and forth on a stretcher if necessary. It’s your mind I need.”

Clinton sighed. “Tell me.”

“Right now we’re confronted with an exceptionally complicated situation that requires operational expertise. Wadensjöö has a young kid, still wet behind the ears, called Jonas Sandberg. He’s the entire operations department and I don’t think Wadensjöö has the drive to do what needs to be done. He might be a genius at finessing the budget, but he’s afraid to make operational decisions, and he’s afraid to get the Section involved in the necessary field work.”

Clinton gave him a feeble smile.

“The operation has to be carried out on two separate fronts. One part concerns Zalachenko. I have to get him to listen to reason, and I think I know how I’m going to do it. The second part has to be handled from here, in Stockholm. The problem is that there isn’t anyone in the Section who can actually run it. I need you to take command. One last job. Sandberg and Nyström will do the legwork, you control the operation.”

“You don’t understand what you’re asking.”

“Yes, I do. But you’re going to have to make up your mind whether to take on the assignment or not. Either we ancients step in and do our bit, or the Section will cease to exist a few weeks from now.”

Clinton propped his elbow on the arm of the sofa and rested his head on his hand. He thought about it for two minutes.

“Tell me your plan,” he said at last.

Gullberg and Clinton talked for a long time.

Wadensjöö stared in disbelief when Gullberg returned at 2.57 with Clinton in tow. Clinton looked like… a skeleton. He seemed to have difficulty breathing; he kept one hand on Gullberg’s shoulder.

“What in the world…” Wadensjöö said.

“Let’s get the meeting moving again,” Gullberg said, briskly.

They settled themselves again around the table in Wadensjöö’s office. Clinton sank silently on to the chair that was offered.

“You all know Fredrik Clinton,” Gullberg said.

“Indeed,” Wadensjöö said. “The question is, what’s he doing here?”

“ Clinton has decided to return to active duty. He’ll be leading the Section’s operations department until the present crisis is over.” Gullberg raised a hand to forestall Wadensjöö’s objections. “ Clinton is tired. He’s going to need assistance. He has to go regularly to the hospital for dialysis. Wadensjöö, assign two personal assistants to help him with all the practical matters. But let me make this quite clear… with regards to this affair it’s Clinton who will be making the operational decisions.”

He paused for a moment. No-one voiced any objections.

“I have a plan. I think we can handle this matter successfully, but we’re going to have to act fast so that we don’t squander the opportunity,” he said. “It depends on how decisive you can be in the Section these days.”

“Let’s hear it.” Wadensjöö said.

“First of all, we’ve already discussed the police. This is what we’re going to do. We’ll try to isolate them in a lengthy investigation, sidetracking them into the search for Niedermann. That will be Nyström’s task. Whatever happens, Niedermann is of no importance. We’ll arrange for Faste to be assigned to investigate Salander.”

“That may not be such a bright idea,” Nyström said. “Why don’t I just go and have a discreet talk with Prosecutor Ekström?”

“And if he gets difficult-”

“I don’t think he will. He’s ambitious and on the lookout for anything that will benefit his career. I might be able to use some leverage if I need to. He would hate to be dragged into any sort of scandal.”

“Good. Stage two is Millennium and Mikael Blomkvist. That’s why Clinton has returned to duty. This will require extraordinary measures.”

“I don’t think I’m going to like this,” Wadensjöö said.

“Probably not. But Millennium can’t be manipulated in the same straightforward way. On the other hand, the magazine is a threat because of one thing only: Björck’s 1991 police report. I presume that the report now exists in two places, possibly three. Salander found the report, but Blomkvist somehow got hold of it. Which means that there was some degree of contact between the two of them while Salander was on the run.”

Clinton held up a finger and uttered his first words since he had arrived.

“It also tells us something about the character of our adversary. Blomkvist is not afraid to take risks. Remember the Wennerström affair.”

Gullberg nodded. “Blomkvist gave the report to his editor-in-chief, Erika Berger, who in turn messengered it to Bublanski. So she’s read it too. We have to assume that they made a copy for safekeeping. I’m guessing that Blomkvist has a copy and that there’s one at the editorial offices.”

“That sounds reasonable,” Wadensjöö said.

“Millennium is a monthly, so they won’t be publishing it tomorrow. We’ve got a little time – find out exactly how long before the next issue is published – but we have to confiscate both those copies. And here we can’t go through the Prosecutor General.”

“I understand.”

“So we’re talking about an operation, getting into Blomkvist’s apartment and Millennium’s offices. Can you handle that, Jonas?”

Sandberg glanced at Wadensjöö.

“Evert… you have to understand that… we don’t do things like that any more,” Wadensjöö said. “It’s a new era. We deal more with computer hacking and electronic surveillance and such like. We don’t have the resources for what you’d think of as an operations unit.”

Gullberg leaned forward. “Wadensjöö, you’re going to have to sort out some resources pretty damn fast. Hire some people. Hire a bunch of skinheads from the Yugo mafia who can whack Blomkvist over the head if necessary. But those two copies have to be recovered. If they don’t have the copies, they don’t have the evidence. If you can’t manage a simple job like that then you might as well sit here with your thumb up your backside until the constitutional committee comes knocking on your door.”

Gullberg and Wadensjöö glared at each other for a long moment.

“I can handle it,” Sandberg said suddenly.

“Are you sure?”

Sandberg nodded.

“Good. Starting now, Clinton is your boss. He’s the one you take your orders from.”

Sandberg nodded his agreement.

“It’s going to involve a lot of surveillance,” Nyström said. “I can suggest a few names. We have a man in the external organization, Mårtensson – he works as a bodyguard in S.I.S. He’s fearless and shows promise. I’ve been considering bringing him in here. I’ve even thought that he could take my place one day.”

“That sounds good,” Gullberg said. “ Clinton can decide.”

“I’m afraid there might be a third copy,” Nyström said.

“Where?”

“This afternoon I found out that Salander has taken on a lawyer. Her name is Annika Giannini. She’s Blomkvist’s sister.”

Gullberg pondered this news. “You’re right. Blomkvist will have given his sister a copy. He must have. In other words, we have to keep tabs on all three of them – Berger, Blomkvist and Giannini – until further notice.”

“I don’t think we have to worry about Berger. There was a report today that she’s going to be the new editor-in-chief at Svenska Morgon-Posten. She’s finished with Millennium.”

“Check her out anyway. As far as Millennium is concerned, we’re going to need telephone taps and bugs in everyone’s homes, and at the offices. We have to check their email. We have to know who they meet and who they talk to. And we would very much like to know what strategy they’re planning. Above all we have to get those copies of the report. A whole lot of stuff, in other words.”