#makt

I just got that vibe from them

Probably projecting

Anyway, it’s a great read, check it out

https://archiveofourown.org/works/30963143/chapters/78270875

Hastra found more than Kell had been hoping for.

He found names, photographs, home addresses, care models. He had upturned hair and eye color, where they worked and for how long, their salary, and the exact day each of them turned up within London. It was all enough for Kell to issue a request for surveillance, a request that his brother very quickly approved. Tails were set nearby each of their homes. Phone lines were tapped. Bugs were placed in their living rooms and kitchens and bedrooms. Staff, one of their field agents, even managed to get one into Zyta Osinska’s car.

Kell had settled in to wait. Stings could take weeks at the least, years at most. He was prepared and willing to wait.

He underestimated the situation.

The bugs were immediately fruitful, picking up a plethora of Maktahn staccato. The recordings were clear and swiftly translated. To the untrained ear, the directives would have seemed pure nonsense. Some of the analysts even debated whether or not they were worth sending up the chain to Kell. Ultimately, they did. Kell knew it was coded from the beginning of the second tape, when one of the speakers dropped a familiar name -- Vosijk . From then on, he knew they could be nothing else.

Kell marveled at their boldness. Despite being planted in London, Arnes’ capital, all four were remarkably loose. They never assumed they were being watched or listened too. They took no efforts to change up their daily routines or avoid the Arnesian tails. Two of them -- Osinska, a waif-ish redhead, and Aslak Holm, a dark-haired man dressed in a lived-in suit -- even went so far as to meet for lunch one Thursday.

It felt like hubris, a slap in the face to the profession.

It gave Kell pause -- they were too lax, purposefully lax.

Still, Kell took his time, letting the operation drag along and spin out for three weeks before sending in Isra for the arrest. If the letter writer was committed, Kell’s delayed delivery on their conditions wouldn’t be a deterrent. If they four were in fact a lure from Vosijk and Athos Dane, the delay would set them on edge, make it harder for them to move quickly and suck him in.

Mina associationer kring ordet makt med endast sex enskilda ord.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/30963143/chapters/78274241

Kell crumpled the letter in his hands. Over and over; crumple, smooth, crumple, smooth, same as he had done for the last three hours. He kept his eyes trained out the window, at the passing golden summery countryside to the Makt-Arnes border, at once familiar and fresh.

He had ridden this same stretch of train track back and forth for years now, but never this nervously. Even when he was a spring-green rookie headed out on his first real assignment, Kell had been calm and cool. Even-keeled, even-tempered, if not a touch cocky. Yet, this was the moment his nerve chose to abandon him. The jittering, over-caffeinated feeling was only quelled by sitting very, very still in his seat and worrying the stationery of Redbird’s most recent letter.

He hoped it might be their last.

The pressure from Rhy had been mounting since the last Maresh family dinner. He was now of the same mind as their father, insisting that Kell bring his informant out of the shadows and into the sunlight. Similar past engagements had been burned in the end, concluding with a banishment to the snow camps or, at worst, a more violent death sentence. Rhy’s argument had come to hinge around being able to protect this person in the event of their discovery. Kell, however, wasn’t altogether convinced his brother’s aim was only altruism. Uncovering his informant’s face and name meant knowing exactly who they were dealing with. Knowing them meant grasping exactly what kind of information the Sanctuary -- through Kell -- could pressure them for.

Rhy -- and, by extension, the Sanctuary -- was after Vitari.

Kell was after longevity and consistency in contact.

He had held out for as long as possible. His stubborn resolve had buckled the moment Maxim had floated the idea of passing Redbird into the care of another handler. Kell, recognizing he could no longer dance out from under it, had conceded. In their next correspondence, he had requested a meeting. Redbird had dictated the rest in their exacting prose.

Dear Mister Maresh,

I will meet you. If June 18th suits you, please meet me in Ust-Niva. There is an old tavern there -- the Scorched Bone -- and I will wait for you at five-fifteen in the afternoon. If I do not see you by five-forty, I will leave. Remember: Everything we do is dangerous.

-- Your friend

P.s. Please come unarmed. I will be.

Vänsterkongress för politisk makt. Med stort självförtroende dundrade Vänsterpartiets kongress på andra dagen igenom partiledningens linje att partiet i höstens val inte bara ska fälla Tidöregeringen utan också erövra politisk makt genom att ingå i en kommande regering. Den oro som uttryckts från medlemmar och i motioner mot att partiet lovar att ”inte släppa fram” någon enda regering utan V,…

Om regeringsfrågan. Det rasar en debatt om att ledande företrädare för Vänsterpartiet sagt att partiet kommer att rösta nej till en regering V inte själva sitter i. Partistyrelsen i V vill också att kongressen idag skall konfirmera denna ståndpunkt. Detta ultimativa krav har fördömts i alla tonarter från främst företrädare för S och C. Det märkliga med denna debatt är att regeringsfrågans…