by CW Browning
“It’s a Krag–Jørgensen M1912/18. Norwegian-made.”
She lowered the rifle and walked a few feet into the clearing, looking around. Spotting the edge of an ancient and rotting fence in the distance through the trees, she pointed to it.
“Do you see that fence?”
“Yes.”
“The second-to-last post, the one that is lower than the others,” she told him, raising the rifle and settling it against her shoulder.
Erik crossed his arms over his chest and nodded. “All right.”
Evelyn braced her legs and peered down the sight again, aiming at the post. After a moment, she exhaled and squeezed the trigger. The shot cracked out and she lifted her head with a frown. The bullet had gone wide. She immediately lowered her head again, adjusted her aim, and fired again. This time, her shot hit the second-to-last fence post.
Lowering the rifle, she turned to hand it back to Erik. He unfolded his arms and shook his head, his face softening just slightly.
“Keep it. You’re a better shot than the soldier who was assigned that gun,” he told her. “It will be better served with you.”
Evelyn frowned. “Then what will he use?”
“He was killed yesterday by a German sniper. He has no need of it anymore.”
She swallowed. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. We’re at war now. This is how war goes.” His dark eyes met hers. “I wish you, Anna, and Peder didn’t have to be caught in the middle of it, but you are. There is no helping that. You take the gun and keep it by your side. It is not for protection, but for survival. If you see a threat, use it.”
“I will. You don’t need to worry about me.”
Something resembling a smile twisted his lips, softening his harsh countenance once again.
“I’m not worried about you. Not now. Just be sure to shoot straight the first time.”
She made a face. “It was my first time firing this model of rifle!” she protested.
“How’s your shoulder?”
“It hurts like the devil.”
That surprised a bark of laughter out of him.
“Yes. The Krag has a nasty kick until you get used to it. Next time, it won’t hurt as much. You will be prepared for it.” He looked towards the trees as four soldiers burst through, panting. “It’s all right!” he called. “Just some target practice!”
“My God, Salvesen, you could have warned us!” One of them exclaimed. “We thought...”
“It’s my fault,” Evelyn called. “I wanted to try out the rifle and Lt. Salvesen was kind enough to agree. I’m so sorry!”
She gave them her best smile and they all stared at her, then rushed to assure her that it was quite all right and there was nothing to worry about. Erik watched as his men came forward as one, hastening to make themselves agreeable to the blonde woman in their company. He shook his head partly in amusement and partly in disgust before turning away to go to the barn.
“I’ll wake the others. It’s time to get moving,” he said over his shoulder. “Philip and Sal, go and find the others. They were doubling back to make sure we don’t have any Germans following us. We leave as soon you return.”
London, England
The man exited the building and walked down the steps to the sidewalk. He went to the curb and lifted his black umbrella, flagging down a taxi. One slowed and pulled to the curb, stopping before him.
“Whitehall,” he said, getting into the back.
“Aye,” the driver nodded, easing back into traffic.
The man turned his attention out the window, watching as men and women hurried along the pavement. It was early and they were likely hurrying to begin their day, but his day had begun four hours before when he was called into the shabby building on Broadway Street.
He pressed his lips together grimly. The Germans had invaded both Norway and Denmark the day before, demanding that both countries accept the protection of the Reich. Denmark had agreed, but Norway had not. Fools. German troops were rolling over the limited and weak opposition, taking the country anyway. Norway would fall quickly, with a loss of lives that was unnecessary. King Haakon should have surrendered when he was given the chance. Instead, he chose to resist. Hadn’t any of them learned yet that resistance was futile against the might of the Third Reich?
But it wasn’t the invasion that had him frowning thoughtfully. It was the mad scramble that had begun late yesterday afternoon and was still ongoing. MI6 was in a controlled frenzy, undertaking what could only be an extraction from the west coast of Norway. An order had gone out to one of the cruisers accompanying the British troops on their way to assist the Norwegians in repelling the invasion. The cruiser was to evacuate a civilian from Namsos and transport them back to England. Now why would that be considered a priority in the middle of an invasion?
As far as he knew, MI6 had no existing agents in Norway, nor in Denmark. In fact, most of their operatives had been exposed after the Venlo Incident, which was a downright embarrassment. They were still struggling to rebuild the European networks, and he hadn’t heard of any moves to go into Scandinavia. So who were they so interested in getting out of Norway?
The taxi turned a corner and Westminster Abbey loomed on his right. His eyes narrowed as he stared at the landmark without seeing it. There was only one agent that he knew of that had been sent to Oslo: Jian. She would have been trapped when Germany launched their invasion. Oslo fell within six hours, as did all the main port cities. Sweden had closed their borders almost immediately. MI6 had to be trying to get her out.
The man clenched his hand around the handle of his umbrella, his knuckles turning white. He hadn’t been able to find out any information on her since they locked everything down in November. The SD agent, Herr Sturmbannführer Renner, had bungled the whole operation so badly that there was no doubt that the leading powers in Broadway Street were now suspicious of a spy in their midst. Almost immediately, the entire section Jian worked in was classified and closed off from everyone except a very select few. From that day forward, he had had absolutely no idea where she was located. As far he knew, she had simply disappeared.
His grip on the umbrella relaxed slightly. This could be the chance they needed to finally capture the elusive British spy. He could hand the Gestapo their prize virtually gift-wrapped. All they had to do was stop her from making it to Namsos.
He would contact Berlin and alert them to the fact that an evacuation was being planned for Namsos on the 14th. He would offer the possibility of it being Jian, but make it clear that it was by no means certain. If, by some strange chance, it wasn’t her, he didn’t want to endanger his newfound status in Berlin by giving them false information. He had only just managed to get back into their good graces by passing on her codename. He had no intention of falling out of them again.
Chapter Twenty-Three
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Mountains north of Grindal, Norway
Before Erik could reach the door to the barn, Peder loomed into the opening, his hair standing up on top of his head and his shirt half tucked into his trousers. His eyes were wide with excitement and he skidded to a stop when he saw Erik only a few feet away.
“The British have come!” he cried, a grin spreading over his face. “They’re here!”
Philip and Sal stopped and turned to look while Erik stared at him in astonishment.
“What?”
“Five British destroyers sailed into Narvik, trapping the German ships. They sank two of the German destroyers!”
“At Narvik?” The soldiers came forward quickly. “Are you sure?”
“Yes. It sounds like the British suffered losses as well, but two of the Germans ships have sunk.”
“What about the others?” Erik asked quickly.
“No word yet, but it’s a beginning.”
“Yes, it is,” Anna said, coming out behind him. “That’s fantastic news
.”
“How did you come by it?” Erik demanded. “How did you hear this?”
“I’ve been listening to the Norwegian army frequency since last night,” Peder told him.
“You’ve been what?!”
Peder flushed and ran a hand over his hair, smoothing it down self-consciously.
“I didn’t want to tell you because I knew you’d look at me like that,” he said. “You never did like it when Kristian and I listened in on things you thought were none of our business.”
“That’s because it always landed you both in trouble and I had to get you out of it,” Erik retorted. “How did you get onto their frequency?”
Peder shrugged and turned away. “I’m not telling you,” he said over his shoulder. “Anyway, even if I did, you wouldn’t understand a word of it.”
Evelyn bit back a grin, eyeing Anna’s brother out of the corner of her eye. He looked somewhat dumbfounded.
“What else have you heard?” Philip asked. “Have you heard anything about Trondheim?”
“The Germans still have it, but there are pockets of fighting around it.” Peder paused in the door of the barn. “Most of your troops are making their way north.”
“Peder?” Erik stopped him when he would have continued into the barn. “Did you hear anything about the German positions?”
“I know they’re holding Trondheim and moving west and north along the fjord.”
“And south? Are they moving south as well?”
“Not that anyone’s said. There’s a formation moving up from Bergen, but they haven’t crossed Sognefjorden yet.”
Erik nodded slowly. “Good. That’s good.” He turned to look at Philip and Sal. “Go find the others. I want to get going.”
They nodded and turned once more to leave. He turned back to Peder.
“Keep listening, Peder. If we can find out where the Germans are, we can avoid them.”
Peder grinned. “That sounds good to me.”
He ducked into the barn and Evelyn glanced at Erik.
“Do you think we can avoid them and get through Trondheim?” she asked.
“Doubtful, but we may be able to navigate through their lines and go around.”
“If the British have ships in Narvik, they may also have ships going to Trondheim,” Anna said. “Maybe the Germans will be forced out.”
“If they are, they will be forced right into our path,” he replied grimly. “I don’t think we want that.”
“No, but this is still good news,” Evelyn said slowly. “Ships are already arriving with troops and supplies. You’re not alone anymore.”
He gave her an unreadable look. “Perhaps.”
“Oh Erik, stop being so dramatic,” Anna exclaimed. “You’re always looking at the bad side of things. Two German destroyers were sunk! This is a reason to celebrate, not look like we’re about to be shot.”
“I’ll celebrate when we kick the Nazis back to Germany.”
“That’s a fair statement,” Evelyn said. “Two sunk destroyers are good, but more would be better.”
“Oh don’t you start as well!” Anna threw up her hands. “Am I the only one who thinks this is fantastic news?”
“No. I think it’s wonderful news, but I can see your brother’s point,” Evelyn said with a shrug. “If all the German ships were sunk in Narvik, then we’d be going in the right direction.”
“This is a start!”
“Yes, it is.” She turned to go into the barn. “I’ll get my things together. Do you have everything ready to go?”
“Yes. I just have to grab my bag.”
“Hurry and get ready to leave,” Erik said. “The others will be back any minute. If you’re going to make Namsos by Sunday, we have a lot of ground to cover.”
London, England
Bill looked up when his office door opened and raised his eyebrows in surprise when Montclair walked in.
“Jasper!” he exclaimed, setting down the communication in his hand and standing up. “I thought you’d gone up to Whitehall for a meeting.”
“I did,” Jasper replied, walking over to one of the chairs before the desk. “I’ve just come back.”
He sat down and looked at Bill, his eyes sharp and keen. “How are you, Bill? Have you had lunch?”
Bill retook his seat and looked at him quizzically.
“It’s a bit late for lunch now,” he replied. “I’ll wait for dinner. I’m dining with Marguerite at Claridge’s.”
“I’ve heard from Wesley and a few of the others that you’re putting in long hours every day.”
“So are you. We all are. There’s a war on.”
“And it won’t be ending any time soon, not if Adolph Hitler has anything to say about it,” Jasper said, crossing his legs. “We’re in for the long haul, and exhausting ourselves this early in the game won’t do our people any favors. How many agents do you have abroad now? Ten?”
He nodded.
“I wonder if it won’t be best to move a few of them over to another handler. I don’t want you becoming overwhelmed and burned out, nor do I want Marguerite to begin to hate me. And she will, you know. The less she sees of you, the more she’ll resent me.”
“It’s only been a few days, Jasper. This is hardly business as usual. The Jerries caught us all off-guard with Norway, and I’ve got two agents still in Copenhagen. Marguerite understands that my work will keep me away at times. This is one of those times.”
Jasper studied him for a long moment. “This will become business as usual if we allow it to,” he finally said. “How many agents do you have in France?”
“Five, if you’re not counting people like Josephine Rousseau, who work for the Deuxième Bureau.”
“And Jian will make six?”
“Yes.”
“Where are the others?”
“Two in Copenhagen, one in Switzerland and one in Belgium.”
“I’ll move them to another handler and leave you the ones in France,” Jasper decided. “Get me their details and I’ll decide who will be best to oversee them.”
“I don’t know if they will work for someone else,” Bill protested, sitting back in his chair.
“They won’t have a choice. Bill, my mind is made up. After the meeting I’ve just had, I’ll need you to be solid and at the top of your game for the entirety of this war. I won’t have that if you continue at this pace. And before you start to point fingers as I can see you’re about to, I’m also making some changes to my own schedule.”
Bill stared across the desk at him, then sighed.
“All right. I’ll have Wesley gather the details together for you.”
“I appreciate it. We’ll make the transition as smooth as possible for the agents. Don’t worry.” He made no move to get up. “Have you had any further communication from Jian?”
“Not since last night. She acknowledged the instructions to make her way to Namsos.”
“Do you have a schedule for her to check in?”
“No. I think it’s rather dependent on whether or not they can get a signal out. I don’t know what they’re using for a radio, but it’s not one of ours.”
Jasper was quiet for a long moment, then he raised his eyes to Bill’s.
“If she’s captured by the Germans, the Gestapo will turn her over to the SD, along with everyone she’s with. We’ll lose our only eyes and ears in Norway.”
“I’m aware of the stakes, Jasper, and so is she.”
“GC&CS has been intercepting more and more coded messages from the Germans coming into England.” Jasper shifted in his seat and recrossed his legs. “They’ve been passing them on to MI5.”
Bill frowned. “That sounds ominous. That sounds as though they still have agents in England; agents that we haven’t located yet.”
“It does, doesn’t it? That’s what MI5 thinks as well. We all though
t that we’d turned all the ones the Jerries sent over, but now they’ve got us wondering. MI5 has been busy setting up more security nets to try to catch any that might come in.” Jasper hesitated, then sighed. “It’s inevitable that Hitler will send over more spies. I was surprised at the amount of traffic GC&CS has been intercepting, though.”
“This was the first you’ve heard of it?”
“Yes. You know Vernon doesn’t like to share his information with us. That isolationist view is also embraced by all of his officers.”
“What happened to change that?”
Jasper smiled wryly. “They came across something that pertains rather significantly to us.”
“Oh? What’s that?”
“They believe they’ve discovered the codename for our mole here in London.”
Bill stared at him and Jasper’s smile grew at the look of astonishment on his face.
“I thought that would get your attention,” he said.
“I should think so! Who is the bastard?”
“We don’t know yet, but this moves us further ahead than we’ve been. GC&CS have been decoding messages coming through on a regular basis to a man called Henry. MI5 are convinced that Henry is right here in London. There have been one or two incidents where something was mentioned in the message that was quite obviously referring to landmarks here in the city. But the references were such that it was more likely directed to a resident, rather than someone who comes in to visit from the country.”
“And you think it’s our spy?”
“I do. After being informed of the existence of the messages, I demanded to see all of them. One of the earlier ones makes reference to information passed on to Oslo.”
“That could be anything.”
“The message was intercepted on November 5th, the day after Jian arrived in Oslo. In that message, they referred to something, or someone, called Rätsel. In February, there was another mention of the name.”
Bill frowned thoughtfully. “Rätsel? That’s German for mystery, isn’t it?”
“Or enigma, but yes. MI5 thinks it’s a reference to a person rather than to their coding system, and that’s why they finally passed the information on to us. After going through the messages, I believe it’s what the Germans are calling Jian.”