Page 32 of Spymaster

Sloane nodded. “Lars is known for his good looks—tall, blond, and Nordic. But he is even better known for his vanity. When he started to go bald, his friends began buying him hats. His trademark is one of those small Alpine-style caps made out of felt.”

“A Tyrolean?”

“That’s the one. He has all kinds of them.”

“Which division of MUST is he from?” Jasinski asked.

“Now you’re going to stump me,” Sloane replied. “I’m not up to speed on all the acronyms yet.”

“It’s okay. What does he specialize in?”

“Espionage and clandestine operations.”

“He’s probably in KSI then.”

“That’s the one,” said Sloane.

Also known as the Office for Special Assignment, KSI was the darkest corner of Swedish intelligence. In all of the country’s civil law system, there was only one mention of it.

Jasinski was intrigued. “How is it you know him?” she asked.

“I don’t. Not personally. I only know of him. He and my boss go way back together.”

“Lars and Harvath do?”

Sloane smiled. “I should rephrase that. Lars and my boss’s boss go way back.”

“And who is your boss’s boss?”

Sloane smiled once more. “Now we’re getting into things above my pay grade.”

“So you’re not going to tell me?”

“It’s better if you ask Harvath,” she replied as she glanced back out the window.

Jasinski realized that she had likely hit a dead end. Changing the subject, she, too, looked out the window and asked. “Are we in trouble?”

“Only if they search our luggage.”

Shit, Jasinski mumbled under her breath.

“And knowing Harvath,” Sloane continued, “he probably did date one of their daughters. So we’re probably totally screwed.”

The joke made her smile. “Where’d he get the Norseman call-sign?”

“In the SEALs. He had a thing for flight attendants from Scandinavian Airlines. Dated quite a few of them. The name started as a joke, but stuck.”

“And now?”

“Meaning what?” Sloane replied. “Is he dating? Married?”

Jasinski nodded.

Sloane grinned. “Yeah. His friends refer to her as the ‘underwear model.’ Her parents are from Brazil. She’s gorgeous. Super smart, tough as hell, and really sweet. Why? You’re not interested in him, are you?”

“Me?” Jasinski scoffed. “No. Not at all. Just curious.”

She’s a liar. And not a very good one, Sloane thought. But better for her to know up front. Harvath was as close to marriage as you could get without actually being married. The joke around The Carlton Group was that if he ever came back home long enough for there to be a wedding, he’d probably be married already.