The Oslo Affair

by CW Browning

  RECEIVED MESSAGE FROM JIAN. NEEDS EMERGENCY EVACUATION. ARRANGED PASSAGE ON MERCHANT SHIP SS STORRA LEAVING TONIGHT FOR DENMARK.

  Bill exhaled, relief pouring through him.

  “Excellent. Thank you, Corporal. Was there anything else?”

  “No, sir.”

  “Very well. Let me know if anything else comes through.”

  Bill watched the radio operator leave the room, closing the door again, and looked at Wesley.

  “Manchester’s arranged passage for Jian on a merchant ship leaving Stockholm tonight,” he said. “The SS Storra. It sails for Denmark. Find out where she docks and when she’ll get in.”

  Wesley nodded and set down his cup and saucer, but Bill made a clucking noise and waved his hand.

  “Finish your tea,” he said. “Ten minutes won’t make any difference. Who do we have in Copenhagen?”

  Wesley thought for a moment. “Isn’t that Pierson, sir?”

  Bill frowned. “Is it? Good Lord. Well, he’ll have to do. Once you find out when the ship will arrive, contact him and arrange for him to meet Jian. He’ll have to get her from Copenhagen to...God, where’s the most accessible port for one of our ships to retrieve her?”

  Wesley smiled and turned to walk over to a wall map currently displaying Poland.

  “Don’t you remember your geography, sir?” he asked over his shoulder with a chuckle. “You really should. You run agents all over Europe.”

  “Don’t get cheeky with me,” Bill said without heat, reaching for his cup. “When you reach my age, you’ll realize some trivia isn’t worth holding on to when there are perfectly serviceable maps to be used.”

  Wesley chuckled again and began pulling down maps, searching for one of Scandinavia and Denmark. When he found it, he clipped it up and stepped back to study it thoughtfully.

  “Well?”

  “It looks like it might be Esbjerg, sir,” Wesley said slowly, “but it’s clear across the country from Copenhagen, not to mention quite a bit of water in between.”

  Bill got up and carried his cup over to study the map. While he stared at it, Wesley drank his tea, knowing what was coming. He’d worked with William Buckley for over a year now. He knew him well.

  “You’d better go find out where the ship will dock,” he finally grunted. “If it’s not Copenhagen, we need to arrange addition transport. And contact the base in Scotland while you’re at it. Make sure there’s no reason for us to get her back sooner.”

  Wesley nodded and set his empty cup down, turning towards the door. Once he’d gone, Bill continued studying the map with a frown. Once Evelyn was on the western side of Denmark, he had a few different options to get her home. The most straight-forward would be by ship across the North Sea. If that wasn’t feasible in their unexpected time table, then he could move her down through the Netherlands and Belgium, then across from France. That option would take significantly longer.

  With a sigh, he turned away from the map and went back to his desk. It all hinged on where the ship would dock, and whether or not she was on it.

  He sank down into his chair and stared at the message on his desk. When this was sent, she was obviously still safe. But he knew how quickly that could change, especially with both German and Soviet agents on her tail. Even with the Norwegian helping, it was still damn tricky. There was no guarantee that Evelyn would make that ship, and every minute she was still in Stockholm was another minute she was in danger.

  He hoped to God she’d found a way out of this mess.

  Stockholm, Sweden

  The more blocks Evelyn put between herself and The Strand Hotel, the more her pounding heart slowed and began to return to normal. The sun was almost gone now and long shadows covered the city as she moved through the crowds, her hands buried in her coat pockets and her head bowed against the frigid wind.

  The trembling in her hands and legs had finally eased and she knew that the after-effects of her run-in with the man in the alley were fading. Sifu had tried to warn her of the effects of adrenaline and how it would affect her movements in a hostile setting, but she hadn’t fully understood. After all, she had trained with other students and they had sparred together daily. Wasn’t that the same thing?

  Evelyn shook her head and glanced behind her as she turned to cross the road. It wasn’t the same thing at all. She’d had her first taste of it last summer in France, and now she’d had another rush of it. Her Wing Chun master had been right. The adrenaline made her movements sloppy and impaired her thinking. Her breathing had been more labored than it should have been and, when it was all over and she walked away, her legs had almost given away completely. Sifu had tried to prepare her, but now she knew that there was no way anyone could have truly prepared her for the rush of nerves and energy that flooded through her. Only experience could be her teacher now.

  It was her rigorous training and repetitive practice of the basics that had saved her in that alley. Her movements had been sloppy, yes, but they had been made on instinct and without thought. She had reverted back to the long hours of training in the balmy gardens of Hong Kong, and that was the only thing that had kept her from making a costly mistake.

  Biting her lip, Evelyn reached the other side of the road and turned down a street, following the map she had memorized earlier that day. She had walked away the victor in that battle, but she knew that with each Gestapo agent she touched, her anonymity and safety were compromised. The man in the alley was the second one of their agents that she’d knocked unconscious. The first was last summer, and Herr Untersturmführer Hans Voss was well aware that she’d been the one responsible then. But where that incident could be explained away as a lucky shot, the man in the alley tonight would not be. One women would not be that lucky twice. They would realize she had special training, and that would make her more of a threat to them. Maggie Richardson was about to become a woman whom the SD would stop at nothing to catch.

  Evelyn paused under a street light and looked at her watch. Anna should be well on her way to the train station now, and Herr Renner would have discovered his agent in the alley. She had to keep moving. Lifting her head, she strode down the sidewalk until she came to the entrance of a small cafe on the corner. With a last furtive look behind her, she opened the door and went inside.

  The warmth and smell of good coffee and simple food enveloped her, welcoming her in from the cold outside, and she breathed deeply, looking around. Her stomach rumbled, reminding her that she hadn’t eaten since that morning, but there was no time now. Every minute she remained in the city was another minute one, or both, of the enemy agents could find her. Anna was drawing Renner and his men away from her, but she had no idea where her Soviet friend was, or how long Renner would be distracted.

  A tall man at one of the tables near the back raised his hand, and Evelyn moved towards him. He was younger than she had expected, unless it wasn’t Horace Manchester who was standing politely as she approached.

  “Miss Richardson?” he asked, moving to pull out a chair for her. “I’m Collins, Mr. Manchester’s assistant. He sends his apologies that he couldn’t be here personally. He believes he is being watched, you see. He didn’t want to expose you any further.”

  She nodded and seated herself in the offered chair, unbuttoning her coat.

  “I understand, and appreciate his caution,” she said. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

  Collins seated himself again and smiled at her, his face open and friendly.

  “I wish it were under better circumstances,” he said, reaching into the inside pocket of his coat. He pulled out a thick envelope and passed it to her. “Everything you need is inside. We’ve arranged passage for you on a merchant ship leaving for Denmark tonight. It will take you to Copenhagen. From there, it is up to you to find your way back to England.”

  Evelyn took the envelope and tucked it into her purse. “Thank you.”

  “London has been alerted to the arrangements,” he continued. “The passage is book
ed under the name of Clare Billadeau, a French national.”

  “Did Anna get away?”

  “Yes. I saw her not ten minutes ago. She’s on her way to the station.” He glanced at his watch. “You have to leave now if you’re to make the ship. There is a gray sedan outside that will take you to the docks. Your baggage is inside.”

  Evelyn nodded and stood, holding her hand out to him.

  “Thank you for everything, Mr. Collins,” she said. “Please extend my thanks to Mr. Manchester as well.”

  “Of course,” he shook her hand with a smile. “Have a safe journey, Miss Richardson.”

  She nodded and turned to leave, trying not to feel as if she was leaving behind the last friendly face she’d see for a while. It had been daunting to sail from Scotland for Norway with no idea what awaited her, but that was nothing compared to the prospect of sailing to Copenhagen with no idea how she would get from there back to England. She didn’t speak Danish, nor did she know if there was even a train that would take her from Copenhagen to the western coast of Denmark.

  Before an overwhelming sense of panic could consume her, Evelyn took a deep breath and focused on the next few minutes. She’d get to the car before she worried about anything else, then worry about boarding the ship. Once she was away from Sweden there would be time enough to worry about Denmark. She could only worry about one thing at a time, and had to tackle each moment as it happened. Otherwise, she wouldn’t make it out of here.

  She stepped out into the night again and looked around. A gray sedan was parked a few feet away and, as she walked towards it, the driver got out and moved to open the back door.

  “Miss Richardson?”

  She nodded and got into the car. As the door closed and the driver got behind the wheel again, Collins emerged from the cafe. The car pulled away from the curb as he turned to walk in the opposite direction.

  Herr Renner strode across the sidewalk towards the entrance of the train station, his eyes on the two men waiting for him.

  “Where are the others?” he demanded, joining them.

  “Already inside,” Otto said, turning to walk with him through the wide doors.

  “And the woman?”

  “Disappeared.”

  Renner looked at him sharply, his eyes narrowing. “What do you mean, disappeared?”

  “She came in here, but there’s no sign of her yet. The others split up and are checking the waiting areas.”

  Renner scowled and looked around the large lobby of the station. The ticket booth had one person waiting, an older gentleman carrying a briefcase, and the woman at the counter weighed at least three times what the woman who left the hotel did. He looked around slowly, scanning the crowds. It was the height of rush hour as people were catching trains out of the city at the end of the work day, and men and women swarmed around, hurrying to catch their train.

  “There couldn’t be a worse time for this,” he muttered. “How many trains to Norway?”

  “Two. But there are five more that go to other stations in Sweden where a connecting train can be caught to Oslo,” Otto told him.

  “So seven altogether?” Renner looked at his watch. “What time does the next one leave?”

  When there was no answer immediately forthcoming, he shot a look at Otter. That man looked uncomfortable.

  “I...I don’t know.” As storm clouds formed on his superior’s brow, he turned hurriedly towards the ticket booth. “I’ll find out now.”

  Renner watched him go in disbelief. They had taken the time at least to find out what trains went to Norway, but none of them had thought to get the times? Unbelievable! After glancing at his watch again, he started to make his way through the crowds, searching for a tall, dark-haired woman. There were any number of them, but none were the one from the hotel. And looking for a blonde woman was out of the question, he decided after a few moments. He was standing in a sea of light-haired women, all about the right height. It would be impossible to examine them all.

  “Herr Sturmbannführer Renner!”

  He swung around, watching as Otto pushed through the crowds towards him.

  “It’s leaving now!” he gasped, joining him. “From track seven. Direct to Oslo.”

  Renner turned and scanned the platform entrances, searching for the one that led to track seven.

  “This way!” Otto said, motioning for him to follow. “It’s on this side.”

  Renner followed him quickly as he pushed his way through the crowds, leaving exclamations of anger in his wake. Ignoring them, the two men half-ran to the entrance. Wide, shallow steps led down to the platform and Renner bolted ahead of him, his coat flaring out around his legs as he descended rapidly to the underground platform. He was halfway down when he heard the conductor call the last boarding call.

  “Schnell!” He threw over his shoulder as Otto huffed after him, his face turning red from the exertion. “It’s the last boarding call!”

  He reached the bottom of the stairs and ran along the short, wide corridor towards the platform ahead. The whistle blew just as he emerged onto the empty platform and he let out a string of curses at the sight of the train pulling away from the platform.

  “Too late!” Otto gasped, stopping next to him and staring at the train pulling away. “Did you see her?”

  “Nein.” Renner turned away as the train began to pick up speed.

  “Perhaps she’s not on it,” Otto suggested breathlessly. “There are other trains.”

  Herr Renner nodded and began to walk back towards the stairs. Suddenly he felt the hair on the back of his neck raise and he swung around, nearly plowing into Otto as he did so. With a scowl, he pushed him out of the way and took a few steps towards the departing train. The front had already left the station and the back was just sliding by when he saw her.

  She was in the second-to-last car, staring at them. As the car flew by them, she raised a hand to her lips and blew him a kiss, her lips curving in what could only be described as an impish grin.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Evelyn stood on the deck, her hands deep in her pockets, with a strong, bitter wind whipping at her hair. The sun had set and the sky was clear, sparkling with thousands of bright stars. If it weren’t for the cold, it would be a lovely night on the water. A fierce shudder went through her and she burrowed her chin into her coat as she watched the coast, glittering with lights, slip by. They were moving through what looked to be a sound now, with small, coastal islands on either side. If she looked to her left, she could see the port in the distance with the lights of Stockholm shining brightly. When she looked to the right, she saw more lights dotting the horizon as the ship made its way towards the Baltic Sea.

  Another shudder went through her, but Evelyn ignored it. She couldn’t go back to her cabin until she knew she was safely away. The city was still just too close for comfort.

  A young sailor stood a few feet away and he kept glancing at her as she stood at the railing, watching the land slide by. He must have thought she was absolutely insane. She was the only passenger on the deck. The cold, frigid wind had already driven the others inside to where it was warm and they had access to a light supper. Her stomach had ceased rumbling long ago, but she supposed she would have to go in and eat something soon.

  “Ursäkta mig, är du inte kall?”

  She turned in surprise as the young sailor addressed her, a friendly smile on his face.

  “I’m sorry. I don’t speak Swedish,” Evelyn said in French, shrugging apologetically.

  Instead of looking confused at the language, the young man visibly brightened.

  “You’re French!” he exclaimed in kind, a grin breaking across his face. “So am I! I’m from Marseilles!”

  Evelyn smiled. “My family is from Paris.”

  “I haven’t spoken to another Frenchman in over six months,” the young man said, moving closer. “My name is Lucas,” he added, shoving his hand out.

  “I’m Clare.” She pulled her hand out of h
er pocket to shake the offered hand, then shoved it back in quickly as another violent shudder went through her.

  “You’re cold,” he said unnecessarily. “It’s very cold tonight. Why don’t you go inside where it’s warm? You’ll get sick out here.”

  “I just want to watch until we get to the sea,” she said, nodding to the passing coastline. “I love to watch the lights go by.”

  “I suppose I’m used to it,” Lucas said, following her gaze. “How long were you in Sweden?”

  “A few weeks. I was visiting an old school friend,” Evelyn lied smoothly. “I wasn’t due to leave until next week, but I received word that my grand-mère is ill.”

  “And so you grabbed passage on the first ship you could,” he said with a nod. “We dock at Copenhagen, but there are always liners coming in and out of port. You should be able to get passage relatively quickly.”

  “That’s what I’m hoping.”

  “You really shouldn’t be out here without at least a scarf. Do you have one?”

  “I’m afraid not.”

  He clucked his tongue and shook his head. Then, after a moment of thought, he patted her arm.

  “Wait here,” he told her. “I’ll be right back.”

  Evelyn watched her new acquaintance turn and hurry along the deck to a door, disappearing inside. She smiled faintly and turned back to look at the lights. They were getting more sporadic now and further away as the ship got closer to the sea. It was nice to talk to someone in a civilized language, she reflected. Anna had been lovely, of course, but it was comforting to hear French again.

  The smile faded as she thought of Anna. Had she reached the train in time? Had she managed to lose Herr Renner and his thugs? Evelyn hadn’t liked leaving her to play the part of the decoy alone, but Anna had insisted. As soon as she found out that Evelyn could contact the embassy and get out of Stockholm, there had been no swaying her. She had quite logically pointed out that the Germans could hardly detain her. She was Norwegian and, not only was Norway neutral in the war, but she had done nothing except accompany a new friend to Sweden. There was absolutely nothing they could do except threaten her. And, Anna had said with a martial glint her eyes, she’d just like to see them try.