by CW Browning
Waving her to the table, the man in the apron turned to leave, saying something in Swedish over his shoulder. The man at the table nodded and said something in return, standing as Evelyn approached.
“Miss Richardson?”
He spoke in Russian and Evelyn nodded, seating herself so that she was across from him but could still see the rest of the room.
“Yes.”
“I’m Risto Niva. You can call me Niva. Everyone does.” He took his seat and looked at her appreciatively. “I was beginning to think you weren’t coming.”
Evelyn smiled tentatively. “I’m sorry I’m a few minutes late. I had to make a stop on the way.”
“Your Russian is very good. Have you spent time there?”
“No. I’ve not had the opportunity. I studied under a woman who lived in Moscow.”
“You must be a very good student. The owner is bringing lunch. Have you eaten?”
“Yes, but please don’t let that stop you.”
Niva studied her across the table, his lips pursed together thoughtfully.
“You’re not what I expected,” he finally said. “Vladimir said I would be surprised. He was right.”
“What were you expecting?”
“A man in a tweed coat with a pipe,” he answered promptly, drawing a laugh from her. “I’m very pleased that you’re not. I’d much rather have lunch with a beautiful young woman.”
Evelyn murmured thanks for the compliment as a bar maid came to the table and set down two glasses filled with a berry colored liquid and large plate of dark brown, crusty bread. He said something to her in Swedish and she nodded before turning away. Once she’d gone, Niva motioned to the glass.
“I ordered a local drink. It’s made from berries, I believe. I hope you like it. I find it refreshing.”
Evelyn lifted the glass and sniffed the liquid inside. It smelled sweet and something like flowers. Sipping it, she was pleasantly surprised at the mildly sweet berry taste.
“It’s good,” she said, setting the glass down. “What is it?”
He shrugged with a grin. “I have no idea. There is something similar in Finland, but it is much stronger. I think this is made with lingonberries, but I am not sure. I’m glad you like it.”
“I understand you live in Turku?” she asked after a moment. “That’s on the coast, isn’t it?”
“Yes. It sits on the Aura River. It’s an amazing city. It was once the capital of what is now Finland. The capital was moved to Helsinki in the 1800s. Now it is a major regional city in its own right.”
“How long have you been there?”
“About five years now.” Niva sipped his drink and shrugged. “It is nice there, but I fear that things are on the brink of changing.”
“Things are changing everywhere,” Evelyn said soberly. “The world is changing rapidly.”
The barmaid returned then and set a bowl of thick stew down before Niva. She placed a thick wooden cutting board with cheese on it in the center of the table, then nodded and disappeared again.
“That’s the truth,” he said as if they hadn’t been interrupted. “Did you see that someone tried to assassinate Hitler? We are living in unsettled times.”
“Is that why you agreed to meet with me?” she asked softly.
He glanced up from his stew. “Among other reasons.”
Evelyn considered him for a long moment. “Are you having second thoughts?”
“About meeting with you? No.” Niva shook his head and reached for the bread, cutting a thick piece off with his knife. “About my country and the path our leaders have chosen? Yes.”
Understanding dawned. “You’re looking for a way out.”
“You’re very quick.” He dipped his bread into his stew and took a bite. After a moment, he swallowed and met her gaze across the table. “I’ve become disillusioned with Stalin and his ministers. I don’t see anything good coming from their policies. I’m a realistic man. I have no family to speak of, and I see no reason to remain in the Soviet Union.”
He left the statement there and returned to his lunch, his meaning clear. Evelyn swallowed and reached for her drink.
“I have to contact my superiors,” she said after a moment. “I can’t promise anything. It would be better if I had something to give them in return.”
“Of course.” He picked up a napkin and wiped his mouth, reaching for his glass. After taking a long drink, he reached inside his coat to pull out what looked like several papers rolled into a tight tube. He set it on the table. “These are copies of orders that have come through over the past three weeks from Moscow,” he told her in a low voice. “They tell the story on their own. Take them and give them to your handler.”
Evelyn looked at the roll on the scarred table and shot a quick look around the tavern. All the other patrons were eating and drinking and no one was paying them the least amount of attention. After a moment’s hesitation, she reached out and picked up the roll, putting it in her large bag. Niva nodded in approval.
“Moscow is getting tired of Kallio and his refusal to agree to their terms,” he said, keeping his voice low. “They’re making plans to force Finland into giving up the land in the Karelian Isthmus. The general feeling is that they tried to make an agreement and, since Kallio won’t go along, they’ll take it by force.”
“How?”
“Do you know how the Germans justified their invasion of Poland?” Niva asked.
“They claimed the Polish attacked them first,” she said. “Hitler said regular Polish troops attacked a transmitter in Gleiwitz, a town bordering Poland.”
“That’s what he said, yes.” He reached for the bread again. “In actual fact, the attack was staged by the SS. They killed several prisoners and drove the bodies to Gleiwitz. SD men dressed in Polish uniforms then stormed the radio station there, supposedly killing the Germans in the attack.”
Evelyn stared at him. This was something she hadn’t been told when the frenzy of facts and misinformation flooded into England in those chaotic days immediately following Hitler’s invasion of Poland. Although everyone knew that the supposed attack was an excuse to invade Poland, she had assumed the attack had still occurred as stated.
“The SS staged it?” she asked, stunned.
“Yes. Not just there, but also in several other locations,” he said with a nod. “They were all staged by the SS and SD.”
Evelyn sat back in her chair, her mind spinning. Through her astonishment, one thought came to the surface. She raised her eyes to his.
“Stalin is going to use the same tactic to invade Finland, isn’t he?”
He met her gaze and said nothing. He didn’t need to. They both knew the truth.
“Do you know a location?”
“No. It will be somewhere near to Leningrad, but the exact location is being closely guarded.”
“When?”
“Soon. Planning is underway, as those transmissions I gave you will show. If I had to offer an educated guess, I’d say within the next few weeks.”
Evelyn exhaled. A few weeks? There was no way England could intervene in time. Chamberlain would never approve getting involved with an altercation against the Soviets without any provocation.
“Tell me, how is it that you are here?” Niva asked suddenly, sitting back in his chair and looking at her thoughtfully.
She raised an eyebrow and looked at him in surprise. “You know why I’m here.”
“That’s not what I mean. Why are you doing this?”
She was silent for a long moment. He was asking her why she was working for British secret intelligence, and she wasn’t about to try to explain something she didn’t quite understand herself, especially to a man who was so willing to defect from his own country.
“I don’t think it matters why I’m here, does it?” she finally asked briskly.
He smiled faintly. “No, I suppose not,” he agreed. “Tell me, what’s it like in London now? Since the war began, I mean? Has it change
d much?”
Evelyn thought for a moment, her brows coming together.
“Aside from the blackout? No, not really. It seems to be business as usual.”
“No protests? No signs of disapproval with the war?”
“None,” she said firmly.
“Interesting,” he said thoughtfully, and she raised her eyebrow in reaction.
“Why do you say that?”
“We’ve been under the impression that the general feeling among the people in England is that they don’t support the war.”
Evelyn frowned. “What gave you that impression?”
The smile that crossed his face unnerved her. “The reports from our people in London.”
She stared at him, feeling her skin grow cold.
“People?” she repeated, feeling very dumb.
He nodded calmly, his eyes on her face.
“Yes. You didn’t think Moscow was operating blind as regards England, did you?” he asked softly. “Well, I can see that you did. You’re surprised.”
He leaned forward and pushed the bowl of stew out of his way.
“Let me give you one more piece of information that you might take to your superiors,” he said, his voice low and his eyes serious. “Don’t trust anyone in London. You have a rat in your ship, and it is very well hidden. I would hate to see a lovely thing like you fall into the hands of the SS, or the NKVD. They would destroy you, and what a waste that would be.”
Evelyn swallowed, her mouth suddenly dry. “Am I in danger?”
He sat back again.
“Everyone is in danger,” he told her. “The question isn’t whether or not you are at risk. It is who you are at risk from, and whether or not you are prepared for what may come.”
Oslo, Norway
Daniel Carew looked up from his desk when a short knock was immediately followed by the door swinging open. He raised his brows in surprise at the sight of a clerk who seemed to be very out of breath.
“Excuse me, sir,” he gasped, coming quickly into the office. “This arrived a few minutes ago. I was told to bring it straight to you.”
He held in his hands a rather thick package wrapped in brown paper and Daniel frowned, standing. He came around from behind the desk and took the package from the clerk.
“Who delivered it?”
“I don’t know, sir. Someone banged on the door and when I opened it, they shoved it at me and ran away again.” The clerk shrugged. “It was a man, but I didn’t get a good look at him.”
Daniel turned the package over and found his name scrawled across the front.
“All right. Thank you. You may go.”
He turned to go back to his desk as the clerk left the office, closing the door softly behind him. Daniel set the parcel on his desk and slowly sank down into his chair.
So it had happened. The message from the unknown sender had been fulfilled.
He sat back in his chair and stared at the package. When he received the message almost a week ago now, he’d thought it might be some kind of prank. It had been mailed through the post with no indication as to author. Typed on plain paper, the text had been short and to the point. If he arranged for a slight change in the BBC's German broadcast, he would receive a report on German military and scientific advancements. Although skeptical, the requested change was so minor that Daniel had contacted MI6 in London and they had arranged for it to be done. Changing the introduction of the broadcast to “Hullo, hier ist London” for one broadcast seemed a simple enough task in return for the possibility of gaining valuable information.
Now, apparently, here was the result.
He leaned forward and picked up the parcel, feeling the contents through the wrapping. There was more than just paper inside. A lump indicated something small and hard was included. Tearing open the brown covering, he extracted several typed sheets of paper and discovered that the hard lump appeared to be a mechanical or electrical tube of some sort. Holding it up, he examined it carefully, his lips pressed together. It looked very similar to a vacuum tube.
Setting it on the desk, he sat back with the typed pages and began to read through them. As he read, his interest grew. This wasn’t some vague account from a disgruntled factory worker. The pages contained specific details in several different areas, including airplanes, ships, bombs and rockets. The information included was so specialized that he strongly suspected it was, in fact, written by a scientist.
Daniel went back to the beginning of the report and began to read through it again, this time slowly and more carefully. With each page, his excitement grew as he realized that the information in his hands was something that came directly from Berlin. Reaching the last section of the report, he read about electric fuses and how they were being used in artillery shells and bombs instead of mechanical fuses.
Lifting his eyes, he picked up the tube and looked at it consideringly. Could it be an electric fuse? Or was is part of something else? The report described several different technologies that were being tested in Germany for use in their weapons. This could be an example of a component of any of them.
Daniel set the tube down again and dropped the report on the desk next to it. What an amazing stroke of luck! He had no idea who the anonymous benefactor was, but it was clear that they were well-versed in science and technology. In fact, the understanding they revealed regarding the use of radar alone was outstanding. The author had included details in their report which would enable them to develop countermeasures, showing his knowledge of how such countermeasures could be developed. In addition, he included several locations which could, if targeted, deliver crippling blows to the military production of the Reich.
In all, the report was filled with information that Daniel felt was highly valuable. And it had been given to them freely.
He leaned forward and took a cigarette from the box on his desk, fishing in his pocket for a lighter. It didn’t escape his notice that this report had been delivered in the midst of a scientific convention in Oslo. Nor did he think that it was simply coincidence. Somewhere in the city was a German citizen who opposed the Nazis enough to risk what was probably a very good scientific career to pass information on to England. They had done so knowing that the consequences of being caught included death.
Lighting his cigarette, Daniel sat back and stared at the pile on his desk. Who would have thought that Oslo would have turned into such a hotbed of activity in a mere few days? Not only had this golden egg landed on his desk, but the agent from London was actively pursuing a viable Soviet lead which she gained right here in the city. In the past two months, none of the agents sent over from London had uncovered so much as a stray code. Now, in the course of a few days, they had gathered more intelligence than they had in months.
What a turn of events!
Chapter Twenty-One
Evelyn walked along the street with her hands in the pockets of the short, shabby coat she had purchased from the damaged rack. What it lacked in style, it barely made up for in warmth. While blocking the worst of the gusts of icy wind, the fabric was thin and, after repeated onslaught, the cold seeped through until she was shivering. Missing her warm English wool coat with the soft warm lining, she reflected on how ridiculous it was that she was walking along freezing when the means to be comfortable was contained in the large bag over her arm. She briefly debated stopping and exchanging the cheap coat for her real thing, but another look at her surroundings convinced her not to. Once she was across the bridge and back in more gentile surroundings she could go somewhere and change back into her clothes. Until then, she would have to shiver.
All the chills coursing through her weren’t necessarily the result of the frigid temperatures. Some of them were caused by Niva’s statement that the Soviets had a spy entrenched in London. He had told her almost as an after-thought, as if it was a well-known fact. Obviously for them it was, but for her it was not. And she was willing to wager that Jasper Montclair was unaware of any moles in the government.
The most natural thing for her to do would have been to dismiss the statement as untrue. Yet, it actually made sense. The Soviet agent in Oslo had known she was there almost immediately. How else could that be? She and Daniel had thought as much when he sent the first message to London, informing them that she was being followed. They assumed the fault was in Oslo, but what if it were in London?
Then there was the issue of Herr Renner. How had he known she was in Oslo? Evelyn frowned as she walked along the road that would bring her to the bridge and back to the hotel. If the spy Niva referred to was a Soviet agent, how did Renner know about her? Was there another one? A German? Or had he discovered her through chance once she was already in Norway?
So many questions without answers, and now there was the question of who could be trusted and who might be working for either the Soviets or the Germans. She shook her head and tried not to let a feeling of helplessness overwhelm her. She may not know who in London could be trusted, but she at least knew she could trust Bill. Of that she had no doubt. The rest? Well, that was a problem to be addressed when she arrived back in England. Right now, she had more pressing matters to be concerned with.
Like how her Soviet friend had followed her from Oslo, and why.
Evelyn exhaled and glanced up at the bridge ahead. Once she was across it, she would search out a cafe with a restroom where she could change back into her own clothes. While these had served their purpose beautifully, the coarse fabric was rubbing her skin, and she wanted to scratch the back of her neck where the rough label was cutting into her. With that in mind, she quickened her pace.
What about Anna? The thought popped into her head without warning and Evelyn pressed her lips together. Where did Anna fit into all this? Was she simply bored, just as she had said? Or was she the reason Renner knew she was in Norway? As much as she liked the woman, did she know that she could really trust her? Daniel Carew trusted her, but was that enough?