The place you are standing in right now is not just a square. It is the birthplace of a psychological term known all over the world: Stockholm Syndrome. Look for the pale-stoned building with a clock and golden hands on its façade. That was the office of Kreditbanken, and this is where it all began. I am sure you are familiar with the phrase. It describes a phenomenon in which hostages begin to feel empathy, compassion, and even loyalty toward their captors. And yes, it was coined right here, on the twenty-third of August nineteen hundred seventy-three. What followed is widely regarded as one of the strangest bank robberies in modern history. It began in broad daylight. A Swedish bank robber named Jan-Erik Olsson walked calmly across this square toward the bank, carrying a submachine gun. By Swedish standards, this was wildly excessive. He even tried to disguise himself as an American tourist, loudly announcing in English, “The party is about to begin.” He then fired his weapon into the ceiling. Customers fled instantly, leaving behind four bank employees, three women and one man, who triggered the silent alarm. Two police officers arrived and walked straight into chaos. One was shot in the hand. The other was ordered to sit on a chair and sing the same song over and over again: “Lonesome Cowboy,” while the robber paced the room. Within minutes, Norrmalmstorg was filled with police, journalists, and onlookers. A sniper took position on a nearby rooftop, aiming at the suspect, while a news cameraman stood beside him, both “hoping to shoot” in very different ways. This became the first live crime broadcast in Swedish television history. Once Jan-Erik Olsson had taken hostages inside Kreditbanken, he began making demands, and they grew increasingly theatrical. First, he asked for three million Swedish kronor, demanded in both Swedish and foreign currency. Then he specified that he did not just want a car, but a fast getaway vehicle, powerful enough to outrun the police. Remarkably, the authorities complied, delivering a Ford Mustang, fully fueled and parked just outside the bank. But Olsson was not finished. He demanded weapons and protective gear such as additional guns, pistols, helmets, and bulletproof vests, believing he would need them to escape alive. Once again, negotiations continued rather than ending the standoff. Then came the most astonishing demand of all. Olsson insisted that his friend and former cellmate, Clark Olofsson, be released from prison and brought to the bank. Olofsson was no minor criminal. He was serving time for multiple armed robberies. Yet, incredibly, the authorities agreed. They transported him across Stockholm, escorted him into the bank, and locked the doors behind him. Finally, Olsson demanded safe passage out of the bank, with the hostages acting as his human shield. This was the one line the police refused to cross. He could have the money, the car, even his accomplice, but not the hostages. So Olsson made his choice. Instead of leaving, he retreated into the bank vault, beginning a tense standoff that would last six days. What followed was even more intriguing. Play the next track to hear the rest of it.