Arctic Rebel (Guerrilla Greenland Book 2) by Christoffer Petersen

Author:Christoffer Petersen [Petersen, Christoffer]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Aarluuk Press for Arctic Noir, Action Thrillers and Greenland Crime
Published: 2020-10-07T16:00:00+00:00

Denmark

After

Part 6

________________________________

The Copenhagen light shining into Inniki Rasmussen’s apartment failed as the summer evening progressed. Bicycle bells in the street below marked the last round of workers cycling home at the end of the day. The street traffic symphony, stopping, starting, exhausts wheezing and coughing, drifted in through walls like gentle but persistent surf on the beach. Inniki pictured herself on that beach, chiding herself that she wasn’t there, that she couldn’t be there. Ea Braae saw her there, called out to her, pulling her back from the narrow pebble and ice beach of Kussannaq, back into her apartment, hot under the lights, the fake lights, stronger than the outside light.

A metaphor, perhaps, Inniki thought, journeying back to a time when everything real was fake.

“Inniki?” Ea said.

But the land was real, Inniki knew, lost in her thoughts, ignoring the journalist. The granite she stubbed her toe on, the sand and grit that scored her soles when she snuck out for a cigarette, waiting for notice that her hospital appointment in Copenhagen was confirmed. She could still feel that sand, the grit between her toes, one of her last physical connections to the land before leaving for Denmark. She remembered waking up to the turmoil and apologies, when every Dane she met apologised for selling her country – a country that was never theirs to sell. But there was money in turmoil, as the media milked every angle, every story, until there were none left, or their attention drifted. When the Chinese and Russian threat failed to materialise that summer, Greenland became just another icy rock in the north, inconveniently populated.

“Inniki?”

Another interruption. Successful this time.

“Aap?”

“We were talking about Constable Maratse.”

“Yes?”

“You described something that happened on a beach in a settlement called…”

“Kussannaq,” Inniki said, lighting a cigarette. “But I didn’t describe it. I wasn’t there.” Inniki blew a small cloud of smoke above her head. “I read about it in a magazine.”

“Surge,” Ea said, turning as one of her assistants handed her a copy. “Willow Edwards’ article.”

“That’s right. She was there.”

“And did her article encourage you?”

Inniki narrowed her eyes, peering through another thin cloud of blue smoke.

“Let me rephrase that,” Ea said. “From the moment you were deported…”

“Kicked out.”

“Yes. From that moment, you set about organising what you call the resistance.”

“Someone had to,” Inniki said. “Resist.”

“And you did interviews, podcasts. You worked social media.”

“You don’t work social media.” Inniki looked through the smoke.“It works you. If it works for you, then all the better, but…”

“The algorithms?”

“Were not in our favour. I mean, they were in the beginning, but then other events took over, and there just wasn’t enough interest to interest the algorithms.”

“But Willow’s article helped. It gave your story, your voice, a boost.”

“Aap, briefly.”

“And that must have encouraged you, when she wrote about Constable Maratse, what he did on the beach.”

“What he did on the beach,” Inniki said, crossing her legs, wincing as she leaned forward, curious at her drifted youth. “It got him into trouble. He was impulsive. He didn’t think.

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