The night was unusually turbulent for May. Though the wind howled and rain battered the surface, the fjord near Lysekil remained deceptively calm. Below, five meters under the water, Amir was untroubled by the weather above. His primary concern was staying on course. He periodically checked the compass strapped to his wrist, careful to monitor his buoyancy and oxygen levels.

Frustration simmered as he mentally berated himself for not wearing the dry suit. But there was no turning back now. His focus was on locating the ferry, which was vital for his mission.

This ferry was more than a mere transport; it was the crucial link connecting Lysekil to the rest of the mainland. Lysekil having more than enough gasoline they could comfortably operate it, cutting travel time east by three quarters. Without it, the journey would require a 30-kilometer detour north before going south for 60 kilometers before heading east, effectively channeling their armored vehicles exactly where Oksjo wanted them.

There had been talks of taking out their oil ship, but it was understood that they would need it themselves if Lysekil ever reopened to trade. Amir pushed aside the lengthy debates and arguments from back in Oksjo, dismissing them as increasingly irrelevant. At least in Oksjo, there was some consensus, unlike the futile “diplomatic mission” from Norrköping to Lysekill, which proved to be nothing more than a daily exercise in filling plates and occupying space. Thankfully, the “pipehitters” they had sent were actually semi competent.

Amir glanced at his compass once more. The absence of visible seabed would unsettle most people, but for an experienced diver like him, it was a reassuring sign. It meant he was on the right course and not too close to the reef. It prevented him from drifting into shallow waters or crashing against the rocky shore if the current became strong.

There had also been discussions about using ATGM missiles against the ferry, but that would reveal their hand prematurely. So now, Amir was making his way across the fjord. Peter had dropped him off a few kilometers back near the beach and was hopefully still waiting for him.

Amir’s thoughts drifted back to Anna, a persistent distraction ever since he’d glimpsed that old photo in the Trollhättan storage room. But as he peered upward, his focus snapped back to the present. The long shape above him, now clearly visible, was unmistakably his target.

He took a deep breath, steadying himself as he assessed the situation. He carefully plotted his ascent, aware that a rapid climb could lead to decompression sickness or worse, barotrauma. His experience told him to ascend slowly and methodically.

He checked his compass one last time, making sure he was aligned with his planned route. His buoyancy control device and gauges were in working order, and his air supply was sufficient for the climb.

Amir started his ascent, rising steadily and keeping a close eye on his depth and surroundings. He moved slowly, his movements deliberate, to ensure he didn’t trigger any issues. The pressure change was gradual, allowing his body to adjust and avoiding any risk of sickness. The scuba gear he had purchased for his honeymoon to Tahiti, which never happened, was a far cry from the equipment issued by the Swedish special forces. But it got the job done.

He squinted through the darkness, trying to make out the ferry pier and confirm that it was indeed his target. The distance from his drop-off point had been carefully calculated, so the risk of hitting the wrong target was minimal. His confidence came from Przemek’s team, who had conducted thorough reconnaissance.

The pier was heavily guarded, with troops stationed on both sides and a few even permanently aboard the ferry. Surfacing under the full moon’s light would be foolhardy. The best course of action was to remain submerged and avoid detection.

He made his way to the rotors, silently hoping they wouldn’t be activated at that moment. Pushing aside his fear, he focused on working efficiently and swiftly. He carefully opened the diving bag strapped to his feet. As he began to remove its contents, he almost lost his grip, catching the bag just in time.

The mortar shells, assembled by less-than-reliable hands, seemed sturdy enough for the task. Despite the makeshift quality of the work, they appeared to be functional. The idea of testing their reliability under water pressure while attached to his leg was a risk he was prepared to take. Amir, known for his reckless tendencies, had survived many close calls—sometimes barely escaping dangerous situations, often fueled by alcohol and a death wish that far exceeded most.

He’d struggled with suicidal tendencies since his teenage years, but the brief periods of normalcy he’d experienced before everything was violently stripped away only added to his torment. Amir had long been resigned to the idea that if he didn’t meet his end through his own actions, it would eventually be brought about by someone else. For him, the line between living and dying had blurred, and his reckless bravery reflected a man who had lost everything worth living for. Be it by his own bullet some night, or someone putting Amir in his sight before pressing the trigger. He knew he was living on borrowed time. Something he had nearly been kicked out of from the Swedish special forces team before on multiple occasions.

The magnets worked way too well. They stuck on his watch nearly having him think about abandoning it just before finding the strength to rip it off. He secured the magnets with the artillery shells attached more safely this time as they met the hull of the ferry. Right between the rotor blades and where part of the fuel would be stored. With the triple-layered plastic bag enveloping the IED, he set the kitchen timer to forty minutes.

Jonathan’s gaze darted between the ferry and his watch, anxiety etched on his face. Amir had estimated it would take him 30 minutes to reach the ferry and plant the explosives. With the timer set for forty minutes, Jonathan realized the explosion should have happened five minutes ago.

“He probably just decided to take the scenic route,” Skadi said, her voice light and teasing as she lounged next to him under the tarp. “I mean, an extra hour isn’t going to make or break our whole operation.”

Jonathan shot her an annoyed look. “We’ve been waiting for an entire day. An extra hour feels like a lifetime.”

Despite the darkness, he could make out her blonde hair, braided neatly over her shoulder. Without asking, Skadi snatched his helmet and plopped it onto his head, then folded down the night vision goggles with a mischievous grin.

“Hey, watch the battery!” Jonathan protested, trying to pull the helmet off. Her warm hand gently but firmly blocked his attempt, pressing against his face.

“Did your parents really name you Skadi?” Jonathan asked, curiosity piqued.

“It’s an old name,” she replied with a playful shrug. “Even in Norway, it’s pretty uncommon.” She set the helmet aside, momentarily forgetting to turn off the night vision goggles. Nikolaj shot her a frustrated look as the goggles blinked uselessly.

Skadi’s playful demeanor and charm seemed to cut through the tension, even as Jonathan’s impatience simmered beneath the surface.

“Never heard it before,” Jonathan said, shutting off the night vision goggles and carefully placing the lens cap back on.

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Skadi raised an eyebrow, her playful grin widening. “You’ve never heard of Skadi?”

Jonathan looked puzzled for a moment, then shook his head. “Can’t say I have.”

“Skadi’s a Norse goddess,” she explained with a wink. “The name’s got a bit of ancient ‘je ne sais quoi’ to it.”

Jonathan chuckled, his earlier tension easing. “Well, now I know. Guess it’s fitting, considering all the ancient flair you bring to the table.”

Skadi laughed, her eyes sparkling with amusement. “Glad you think so. Maybe next time I’ll tell you the whole myth behind it.”

“What about now?” Jonathan asked, a hint of flirtation in his tone as he looked at Skadi with renewed interest. “We have the entire night”.

Skadi's eyes sparkled with amusement, and she leaned in slightly, clearly enjoying the shift in their conversation. “Well, if you’re curious, let me tell you a bit about Skadi.”

She paused for a moment to gather her thoughts, then began, her voice animated. “Skadi is a Norse goddess associated with winter and hunting. She’s known for her fierce independence and strength. The myth goes that she was a giantess who sought revenge for her father’s death. To do so, she traveled to Asgard and demanded justice from the gods.” She said as if reciting a passage from a book. It was clear it wasn’t the first time she had to explain it.

Jonathan listened intently, clearly intrigued.

“Instead of exacting revenge,” Skadi continued, “the gods struck a deal with her. They offered her a choice: she could choose a husband from among the gods, but she could only see their feet. She picked the one with the most beautiful feet, thinking it was the god of beauty, but ended up with Njord, the god of the sea. It wasn’t the ideal match for her, as she loved the mountains and winter, while he preferred the sea.”

“I wished women chose me thanks to my feet.” Jonathan said interrupting her, she ignored what he said before contiuing.

“Even though the marriage didn’t work out, Skadi remained a powerful and respected figure. She became a symbol of winter and hunting, embodying the harsh but beautiful aspects of nature. She was known for her skills in archery and her connection to the wilderness.” Skadi added as she removed her soft finger from his mouth.

Jonathan glanced at Skadi with a curious expression. “So, why were you named Skadi?”

“Mom had a phd in that subject, Dad tried to talk my mother out of calling me that but guess he failed.” She responded as she looked back down the hill they were on to the ferry about 10 kilometers away.

Jonathan, feeling more drawn to Skadi’s calm and captivating presence, decided to break the silence. The night was so still that it felt like the perfect moment to ask more about her.

“So, what’s the story with you being in Norrköping?” he asked, trying to sound casual.

Skadi looked out over the fjord, her tone easygoing. “I was studying in Stockholm. When things got crazy, I fled with some friends from my campus and ended up in Norrköping. I joined the local guard there since I’d already done my military service back in Norway.”

Jonathan’s interest was piqued. “Really? I did my service too. How come I’m just hearing about this now?”

Skadi laughed softly, glancing at him. “Well, for the past day, you’ve been glued to your book, and when you were on watch, you had this intense look like you could scare away a cow just by staring at it.”

Jonathan chuckled, a bit embarrassed. “Yeah, I guess I’ve been a bit distracted.”

Skadi grinned. “When I got to Oksjö a couple of days ago, Amir mentioned I was lucky to be with you. Said you’re one of the funnier guys around.”

Jonathan’s smile widened. “Well, I’m glad to hear that. I guess I owe you for putting up with me.”

Their eyes locked, the moonlight casting a silvery glow on Skadi’s blue eyes. Jonathan’s heart pounded, feeling like it might burst from the intensity of the moment. As Skadi’s hand gently wove through his hair, they leaned in, their lips meeting in a tender kiss.

They kissed softly at first, then with growing passion, their hands cradling each other’s faces, fingers tangling in each other’s hair. The world around them seemed to fade, leaving only the closeness and warmth of the moment.

But then, the serenity was shattered. A distant, thunderous boom erupted from the direction of the ferry, sending a shockwave through the air that broke their embrace and rattled the trees around them. The ferry burst into flames, a second fireball erupting from one of its compartments, followed by a third, even more violent explosion that seemed to shake the earth beneath them despite the ferry being on top of hundred of meters of water.

A cascade of smaller explosions followed, lighting up the night sky with fiery bursts and sending debris raining down. The remnants of the ferry were obscured by a thick cloud of smoke and flame, while gasoline floated on the water, spreading a blazing layer across the surface.

“That’s ammunition cooking off!” Skadi shouted, her voice barely cutting through the roar of the chaos.

Jonathan, still in shock, barely registered her words. “What?” he asked, his eyes locked on the inferno.

“The bastards were storing ammunition on board!” Skadi yelled back, her expression a mix of disbelief and grim satisfaction. “Look at those rockets flying off into the sky before they explode—holy shit, we hit the mother lode!”

Jonathan’s gaze followed the erratic paths of the rockets, their trails lighting up the night sky. “I’ve seen it before,” Skadi said, grabbing Jonathan’s helmet with a renewed seriousness. She placed it on his head with a quick, practiced motion, then activated the night vision goggles.

The goggles revealed tracer rounds streaking through the air in all directions, confirming what her eyes had already told her.

“KASPER!” Przemek yelled as he sprinted towards them, his voice barely audible over the cacophony of the ongoing explosions. The duo, startled by his sudden approach, barely had time to respond with a hurried “GHOST” before he reached them.

“Amir’s plan went better than we thought,” Przemek panted, catching his breath. “We’ll keep watch tonight until they make a move. Once you see anything worth hitting, you guys engage with the missiles. Remember, we’re not here for the Volvos—prioritize the IFVs. Or if they really do have a tank, that’s your top priority!”

He glanced at the flaming wreck of the ferry, which was now sinking under the weight of the devastation. “I’ll pass the info to Nikolaj and Ming on your right. Don’t count on their ATGMs working; the fire control system is faulty. It might all fall on you,” he added, his face set in determination.

“Get some sleep. Only one person awake at a time. Stay in your positions don’t move. Be ready for tomorrow,” he instructed before turning to leave.

As he was about to run off, he tossed a final phrase over his shoulder. “Nie chwal dnia przed zachodem słońca!

Jonathan struggled to respond, his words coming out haltingly. “Bez Boga ani do proga!”

Przemek gave him a thumbs-up, a rare smile briefly lighting up his face, before he disappeared into the darkness.

“What was that?” Skadi asked, looking curious.

“Just some Polish phrases Przemek taught me,” Jonathan replied, still watching the blaze.

The fjord next to the wrecked ferry was ablaze, the gasoline creating a fiery curtain as people on the piers scrambled in panic

“Fuck it, we’ve got plenty of time,” Skadi said, pulling off her jacket.

“For what?” Jonathan asked, puzzled.

Without answering, Skadi hopped on him and kissed him deeply, their surroundings and the chaos around them fading into the background.

As the last of the flames faded from the fjord, a convoy of military 4x4s rolled onto the pier, their headlights cutting through the smoke as they assessed the damage. Though they were still kilometers away, Skadi tried to make out the specific types of vehicles, her focus unwavering as Jonathan gently ran his hand along her soft side.

“You mentioned you’d seen something like this before?” Jonathan asked, glancing at her.

Skadi kept her gaze on the pier. “Remember that Russian ship sunk in the Norwegian Sea? The first one? I was lucky enough to ‘press the trigger,’” she said, her tone calm and focused.

Jonathan stayed silent, his attention fully on her now.

“I was the fire control operator on the HNoMS Thor Heyerdahl,” she continued. “We’d been trailing the Marshal Ustinov for most of a day after our planes hit it. It was on its way to Murmansk when its engine finally gave out.”

She looked out towards the pier. “By the time we caught up, it was being towed by a tugboat. With its engine gone, it had no real countermeasures. All we had to do was line it up in our sights and take it out. They tried firing anti-ship missiles and sending Lancet drones at us from all the way to Murmansk, but we were out of range and our fleet took care of the few missiles who made actually got in our reach. We had all night to watch it, hoping to make the Russians think twice about the war. The order came straight from the Prime Minister to sink it. All the way down the chain of command, right to me behind my screen. Our officer just shrugged when he got the final order and then told me to do it.”

“All the way to me.” She repeated softly.

Skadi’s eyes were locked on the burning fjord as she spoke, her voice soft but intense. “I remember seeing the guys on the deck scrambling around like crazy. They were trying to figure out what was coming, but it was too late. Our Kongsberg missile was already flying toward them. They looked like tiny toy soldiers running everywhere, some even jumping off the ship, thinking it might save them.”

She took a deep breath, her focus still on the flames. “The missile hit so fast it was like a blur. One second the ship was there, and the next, it was just gone. The whole thing happened so quickly, you barely had time to process it—just a massive explosion and then nothing but wreckage.”

“Oh well, shouldn’t have fucked with us.” She finished before putting her jacket back on.