Overlord

5

Halvdan Landvik sat pensively in his office on London’s Threadneedle Street, one finger stroking his neatly trimmed salt and pepper beard as he looked at a painting on the wall opposite. It was large, dark tones of old oil paint in browns, reds, yellows, by Mårten Eskil Winge from 1872, depicting Thor’s Fight with the Giants. Landvik stared at the hammer Thor held high, yellow lightning arcing around it. He shook his head, thinking of what was lost. Of what might have been. He supposed he should be grateful to be alive, but sometimes that seemed like small consolation. The anger that boiled in his gut at those events would likely never go away. No matter, he could use that as fuel for future endeavors. A knock at the door interrupted his thoughts.

“Come.”

Two nervous-looking employees, Cooper and Waite, entered. Cooper was tall and thin, completely bald. Waite was of a bigger build, but shorter, his hair dark and curly. Both of them largely useless. Genuinely good quality help was almost impossible to find. Landvik watched them, his mood soured further by their obvious weakness. Where were the strong any more? Where were the heroes in this age of digital excess and human frailty? They were clearly waiting for permission to speak.

“Well?” he snapped. “What do you have to report?”

“Our man is successfully embedded with the team,” Cooper said.

Landvik nodded approvingly. At least his underlings could do one thing right. “What else?”

“Our operatives are on their way. They’ll be ready to strike at the appropriate time.”

“Good. I’m pleased that something is going to plan.”

“Should we not simply go ahead and take the base?” Waite asked.

“No. Let SynGreen’s team do all the hard work for us, then we’ll strike. No point making unnecessary work for our lot. The scientists will work harder if they believe they’re doing it for a financial reward, and not under duress. The carrot is more effective than the stick.” They both nodded, but made no move to leave. “I sense you have more questions,” Landvik said, his voice tired. “Reservations, perhaps?”

“Honestly, sir,” Cooper said. “We’re a little confused at your interest in this project. It all seems a bit sketchy, not to mention nearly impossible to believe.”

“Really? Why don’t you let me worry about that?”

“Can it be true though, sir?” Waite pressed. “A new source of energy?”

Landvik took out a folder from his desk drawer, opened it and thumbed through the several sheets inside. He had no intention of letting these two fools actually study the material, but often seeing some physical evidence helped people accept a truth. “I found confirmation of a sort in the form of this record. It’s from a pre-WWII Russian expedition to the very place SynGreene have set up their base. The Russians were in search of a powerful energy source, one they thought could make them the greatest superpower in the world. They ran into problems, unexplained in these documents. But of course, survival in the Antarctic that long ago was fraught with danger.” The two men still appeared puzzled. “What don’t you understand?” Landvik asked, losing patience.

“Well, this company isn’t exactly an energy corporation,” Cooper said, raising his palms.

Landvik smiled. “I’m not interested in the energy potential. That is for others to consider. I am interested in the military potential. Trust me, this is going to change the world.”