'Exciting, isn't it?' He grinned. 'If only we'd had this kind of intelligence and preparation five days ago.'
Scheidt smiled thinly.
'See you later,' added Kurz. 'With Odin, of course.' He waved, then trotted down the steps and along the road to von Poncets' waiting Kiibelwagen.
Scheidt took out a cigarette. Exciting? He supposed so, although he did not share Kurz's obvious relish; he would save that until Odin was sitting before him. He struck a match, brought the cigarette to his lips and realized his hands were shaking. 'It's out of my control now,' he muttered, then sighed. Ahead lay long hours of waiting.
Sergeant Tanner was no less apprehensive as he watched the hours tick by. He had left Sykes alone on a ridge overlooking the road from the south with instructions to return only if he spotted any German troops, and had then waited on the lower slopes observing the town before he returned to the seter around seven that morning.
Chevannes had accepted his story without question. Even when he explained that he had left Sykes on guard above the bridge, the lieutenant had merely nodded. 'Did you have a chance to see whether there were enough oars this time?' he had asked.
'Yes, sir - there are.'
'Good.' Chevannes had ordered him to organize lookouts on the knoll and dismissed him.
Tanner had spent most of the morning there himself, and was still there, keeping watch with Lieutenant Larsen, when at around three a staff car arrived from the direction of Otta. He followed it as it drove to the centre of the town and stopped opposite the church. Four men got out. There was no further movement of vehicles until after four when two trucks headed west along the far shore of the lake. A couple of miles later, they disappeared. Tanner was puzzled, yet relieved to see troop movement at last from the town. He counted the remaining vehicles: five troop-carrying trucks, five medium guns, two further lorries and two staff cars.
Shortly after, Hepworth arrived with Anna in tow. Tanner was glad to see her. It was now nearly half past four and he wished Sykes would reappear. The distraction would be good.
'Have you come to relieve me, Hepworth?' asked Larsen.
'Yes, sir,' said Hepworth.
'Cleaned your rifle, Hep?' asked Tanner, then grinned at Anna.
'Yes, Sarge.'
'Checked your kit?'
'Yes, Sarge.'
'Here,' said Larsen, handing Hepworth his binoculars. 'Look after them.' He got up, patted his sides, then picked up his rucksack and said, 'Let's hope the town stays as quiet as this, Sergeant.'
'Here's hoping, sir,' Tanner replied, then turned back to Hepworth. 'Get the far side of the knoll, Hep,' he said. 'Make sure you've cover behind you, that you're clear of direct sunlight, then try to work out where those troops are.'
With Hepworth gone he and Anna were alone. 'Everything all right at the seter?’ he asked.
'The resting has done the professor good.'
'Is he up and about?'
'He's shaved off his beard in the stream.'
'He's not going to need the stretcher then?'
'No. And he's been eating too.'
Tanner continued to peer through his binoculars. Anna sat behind him on a loose rock. A cool breeze drifted over the knoll but it was warm, even there. A few small patches of snow remained, but otherwise tufty grey grass now sprouted between the pines and birches.
'And Chevannes?' said Tanner at length.
'He's been quiet. Barks orders occasionally, but that's all.'
'As long as he doesn't get in my way, I'm not bothered,' said Tanner. 'He's done enough damage.'
'It's since the professor spoke up on your behalf. That undermined his authority. He doesn't want to say anything now that might lead to another clash.'
'Hm,' said Tanner. 'I'll still need to watch him tonight.'
They were silent for a while, then Anna said, 'Jack, do you think it'll be all right? The crossing? We were lucky last time. I wonder whether we will be again.'
'We'll be fine.'
'Good God,' she said, exasperation in her voice. 'Don't you ever get frightened? How can you be so calm all the time?'
'It's just a front,' he said. 'But we will be fine, I promise.' It was a promise he knew he was in no position to make. Where the hell was Sykes? Over the years, he had learnt to trust his intuition but with Sykes missing he was beginning to wonder if it had let him down. He looked back at the town. Nothing stirred. How many troops were down there? It was hard to say. Fifty? Eighty? More? So long as the enemy weren't expecting them there, and so long as no more troops arrived in the meantime, all would be well. But there was no Plan B. It was the town or nothing. He trained his binoculars on the trucks parked next to the church, and in them he saw their chance for freedom. Whatever happened, they had to take one. It was as simple as that.
'Trust me,' he said. 'It'll be fine.'
By six o'clock, Tanner was finding it increasingly difficult to maintain his outward sangfroid, although he knew that to betray his mounting anxiety would be a grave mistake. Having returned to the seter, he now busied himself cleaning his rifle and the Spandau once more, and hoping the others did not notice his near-constant checking of his watch.
At around twenty past six, his corporal finally appeared.
'Well?' said Tanner, hurrying to him.
Sykes grinned. 'They're there. A company, maybe two, of mountain troops.'
'Ha!' said Tanner, laughing. 'We were bloody right, Stan!'
'You were right, Sarge.' 'Good work, Stan. Bloody good work. And you weren't seen?'
'No. Zellner's with them, though. And they've got searchlights - small ones, but lights all the same. Brought accumulator packs and everything.'
Tanner grinned. 'Perfect. And you were right all along,' he whispered. 'There is a spy.'
'I've got the nose for it, Sarge. I tell you what, you watch my back and I'll watch yours. Cos together, I reckon, we make a good team, you and me.'
Tanner slapped the side of the corporal's arm. 'You've done well. I owe you.'
The final hours were interminable. At half past nine, accompanied by Chevannes and Larsen, Tanner left the knoll for the last time. The town was as quiet as ever, the troops, it seemed, billeted in the town's houses and the trucks still parked next to the church.
'It looks calm,' muttered Chevannes. 'And you've seen nothing, Sergeant, to make you think they're up to anything?'
'No, sir. Apart from the truck and staff car earlier, there's been no movement.'
'I saw nothing, either,' said Larsen, 'and the crossing is nearly six kilometres away. No one from the town will hear or see us rowing across from that distance.'
'Jerry doesn't seem to have bothered pushing further west, sir.'
'Apart from the truck you saw earlier, Sergeant.'
Tanner shrugged. 'Probably just reconnaissance.'
Chevannes nodded. 'Bon.'
They walked in silence back to the seter, where the rest of the men were waiting outside, wearing German tunics, field caps and black-leather webbing. Tanner followed quickly, rolling his jerkin and battle blouse into the bottom of his pack. He had already transferred most of his explosives into his haversack and gas-mask bag. Having wedged his tin helmet into his pack, he placed the last two packs of Nobel's 808 on top.
When they were ready, Chevannes looked at his watch. 'Three minutes past ten,' he said. 'Let's go.'
Tanner, heart pounding, glanced at Sykes. 'Actually, sir, I'd like to say something.'
A flash of irritation crossed Chevannes' face. 'What, Sergeant? Be quick about it.'
'I don't think we should cross the lake after all.'
Chevannes and the Norwegians looked equally aghast. 'What?' said Chevannes, angry now.
'I don't think we should cross the lake,' Tanner repeated. 'I think we should go through the town.'
'Have you gone mad, Tanner?' said Chevannes.
'No, sir.' Say this right, he told himself. Don't muck it up now. 'I'm sorry, sir. It's just that there are only abo
ut fifty or so men in the town. They're not expecting us. We can climb down to a spot above the bridge and watch for an hour or so. I reckon we can take out the guards quietly enough, then march up to those trucks. You speak good German, sir, and so do the lieutenants here. At night, when all is quiet, they wouldn't suspect a thing.' He could see some of his men nodding now.
'Except that every German soldier for a hundred miles seems to know about us.'
'I'm sorry, sir. I hadn't considered it before, but as we were walking back from the knoll...' Chevannes was rubbing his chin. Good. Indecision again. 'The thing is, sir,' Tanner continued, 'it's the far side of the lake that's bothering me. We're going to have to climb up and over the mountain, which will take time. I don't suppose we'll be followed again, but those trucks are just sitting there. This time tomorrow we could be in Andalsnes.'
Chevannes bit his bottom lip and glanced at Larsen and Nielssen.
'I think there's something in what Tanner says, sir,' said Nielssen. 'I've had a look down on the town today and I'm certain they're not expecting us. I think it's a risk worth taking.'
'I'm not so sure,' Larsen said. 'We know the coast is clear at the crossing. Going through the town seems to me too big a risk.'
'We need M/T straight away,' said Tanner. 'The crossing will hold us up. For all we know our boys might be about to evacuate. The more I think about it the more I'm convinced we should head straight down the hill and go through the town. In any case, they wouldn't think we'd have the nerve. That's precisely why we should do it. Fortune favours the brave, sir.'
'I could walk ahead,' said Anna. 'See whether the coast is clear.'
'That's not a good idea,' said Larsen. 'There's bound to be a curfew.'
'I think we should do it, Henrik,' Nielssen said to Larsen.
'Me too,' said Tanner. 'Come on, sir,' he said to
Chevannes. 'We can do this. Those trucks are just sitting there. It'll be dark, we're wearing German uniforms - it'll work, I know it will.' Come on, Chevannes.
'Let me think—' said the Frenchman.
'No,' said Larsen. 'We should stick to the original plan.'
Now, Tanner thought. 'Why, sir?' he said, stepping towards Larsen. 'Do you know something we don't?'
'What do you mean?' Larsen's eyes darted briefly, almost imperceptibly, to either side of him. But Tanner saw.
'Exactly that, sir. Are you hiding something from us?'
Larsen shifted his feet. 'No - of course not. Whatever do you mean, Tanner?'
'What the hell are you talking about, Sergeant?' Chevannes frowned.
'I'm just wondering, sir, if he can explain why the best part of two hundred German mountain troops are lying in wait for us in the trees beside the crossing-point.'
'What?' Chevannes was incredulous. So were the others, but Larsen simply stood where he was, the colour draining from his face.
'No!' said Nielssen, shock and anger in his voice. 'No, Henrik! Say it is not true!'
'I—I do not know what you are talking about.'
The professor stumbled forward and tugged at Larsen's arm. 'Henrik?'
'Lieutenant?' It was Chevannes' turn, utter incomprehension on his face.
'You - you are wrong,' stammered Larsen, 'I know nothing about it. You are lying, Sergeant. How dare you?' 'The only one lying is you,' said Tanner. 'Someone has betrayed us. Those Stukas didn't come from nowhere. Neither did those trucks on the pass. But this confirms it.'
'It was a set-up,' mumbled Larsen.
'Yes,' said Tanner. 'We'd suspected it for a while, but when those Jerries turned up this afternoon we knew for certain. The only thing I didn't know was who.'
'Men!' called out Chevannes. 'Hold him!' But Larsen already had his pistol in his hand. He grabbed Sandvold and pulled him towards him, the gun thrust towards the professor's stomach.
'You traitor!' said Anna, tears in her eyes. 'How could you?'
'Get back! Get back, all of you!' said Larsen, dragging Sandvold towards the seter.
The professor gasped. 'Stop this madness, Henrik!'
'Quiet! Now get back - or I will shoot!'
Tanner took a step towards him. 'Sir, put the gun down.'
'Get back, Sergeant!'
Tanner took another step towards him. 'Sir, put down the pistol.' He was now just three yards away.
'Sergeant! Not a step closer!'
'Tanner, don't be a damned fool!' There was panic in Chevannes' voice.
'Don't worry, sir. He won't shoot. Not the professor anyway. The Germans want Professor Sandvold alive, not dead. If all the lieutenant can offer them is a body they'll not thank him. Not after all this effort.' He took another step forward. 'It's over, sir.' Larsen's eyes flickered wildly. 'Sir,' Tanner said once more, 'put down the pistol.'
Larsen pressed its muzzle harder into Sandvold's side, then suddenly pushed him forward so that he staggered and fell. 'You were right, Sergeant,' he said, trickles of sweat running down his face, 'I wouldn't shoot the professor, but I will kill you.'
Tanner took another step forward so that he was now only a few feet away.
'Sergeant, this is your last chance,' said Larsen. His eyes were still darting from one man to another and his outstretched hand quivered.
Tanner continued to stare at him. His mind was clear; the nerves he had felt earlier were gone. Timing was everything, and although he was fairly sure no shot would be heard in the town, it was a risk he would rather avoid.
Then Nielssen stepped forward. 'Why, Henrik?' he said, and for a fraction of a second Larsen turned his head towards him.
Tanner grabbed Larsen's wrist and pushed the lieutenant's arm backwards, both quickly and hard. The pistol fell from his hand, and Tanner drove his left fist into the Norwegian's head with a punishingly hard jab. Larsen's eyes rolled back and he toppled over, unconscious.
For a moment no one spoke. Then Tanner picked up the pistol, stood over him and said, 'Treacherous bastard. And to think I liked him.'
'Have you killed him, Sergeant?' asked the professor.
'No,' he said, wiping the back of his hand across his mouth. 'He'll come round in a minute.' The others gathered round the prostrate figure. Tanner felt Anna take his hand. Tears ran down her face.
'I cannot believe it,' she said. 'I just cannot believe it.'
Larsen groaned and Nielssen squatted beside him. 'Why?' he said. 'Why, Henrik?'
Larsen mumbled in Norwegian.
'What?' said Chevannes. 'What is he saying?' But Larsen continued to speak in his own language, not to Sandvold or to the others but to Nielssen.
Tanner walked back to where he had placed the Spandau, lifted it and hoisted it on to his shoulder. It was twenty past ten, and he was anxious to leave so that they could reach a position above the bridge before dark. And there was another reason: the guards changed every two hours at half past the hour and the next changeover was due at eleven thirty. Tanner reckoned eleven o'clock was the right time to deal with them - when their alertness was diminishing but well before the fresh shift arrived.
He was about to ask Chevannes what they should do with the traitor when he heard a strangled cry. He pushed through his men and saw Larsen dead on the ground. Nielssen was cleaning his short bayonet grimly on Larsen's tunic, then put it back in its sheath. 'I had no choice,' he said.
Tanner nodded. 'How did he do it?'
Nielssen rolled the dead man over and took off his pack. First he pulled out a small cloth bag, then a sheaf of papers and two metal boxes with a length of wire.
'Christ,' said Tanner. 'What the hell are they?'
Nielssen looked at them. 'I'm not certain, but from these dials, I'd suggest this one must be a transmitter of some kind. It's tiny.'
Tanner turned to Chevannes. 'Sir?'
Chevannes swallowed hard. 'I still cannot believe it, Sergeant.'
'Sir, we need to go.'
'Yes, yes, of course,' he said. 'Right, men, we will go through the town. We must now forget about this traitor.
We need to clear our minds and concentrate on the task ahead; successfully getting into Vagamo, and taking one of those trucks.'
As they finally set off from the seter, Tanner did not glance back: his mind had already turned to what lay before them. Larsen's body was left where it lay: unburied on a patch of hard ground among the trees, high on an empty mountainside.
Chapter 21
From the upstairs window of the newly requisitioned farmhouse beside the lake, Hauptmann Wolf Zellner had a grandstand view of the headland that jutted out into the water, and the boats lying roped to the short wooden jetty. Beside him were Sturmbannfuhrer Kurz and Major von Poncets. Next to them, a field telephone had been rigged up, linking them to the men crouching in the trees round the farm and along the shore for a hundred metres and more. His nose still throbbed, his cheek still throbbed, and the pain of being cheated by the British sergeant a third time hurt him most of all, yet the prospect of Tanner's imminent death had improved his mood. The last light of the day was fading in the west. He looked at his watch. An hour - that's all, he thought.
Next to him, Kurz was telling them about their source. 'We pinned him down at Hamar, the day after the invasion,' he said. 'He was with the King and the rest of the government. He didn't need much persuading, I must say, although we did mention that we knew where his family was. He's got a charming wife and two small girls in Oslo. I'm not sure how much it had to do with it but we did mention that we might not be able to guarantee their safety should he decline our offer.' He chuckled. 'Not that I would have done anything to them. But a man like that, with a young family and everything, it's what they hold most dear, isn't it?'
'Yes,' said von Poncets. 'It is. I'm certainly not doing this for Hitler.'
'Actually,' said Kurz, scratching his cheek, 'I must give Scheidt some credit. He's a bit of an old woman, you know, but he's sharp. He's been over here since last year, grooming that buffoon Quisling on the say-so of the Fuhrer. But he's also been working all sorts of other people in preparation for the invasion. I think it was Quisling's men who put him on to Larsen. Apparently he was a secret National Party man.'
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