Enemies and Traitors: The Norsemen's War: Book One - Teigen and Selby (The Hansen Series 1)

by Kris Tualla

  Selby frowned. “But she’s pregnant.”

  Teigen felt a surge of joy which lasted for the split second that it took him to realize that there was no possible way for the child to be his.

  “Oh, God,” he moaned. “Does she say it’s mine?”

  “It’s not?” Selby asked carefully.

  “We broke off at the beginning of February.”

  Selby counted on her fingers. “That was ten months ago. Surely the baby is born by now.”

  Teigen’s chest tightened. “But we hadn’t been—intimate—since she moved in with her parents a year before that.”

  Selby’s expression was somber. “She filed for your salary saying you were engaged but arrested right before the wedding.”

  “That bitch.” He closed his eyes. “That conniving, selfish bitch.” He opened his eyes again. “Is she really pregnant?”

  “Yes,” she said. “According to her doctor. Her German doctor.”

  Teigen winced. “And how did you meet her exactly?”

  Selby winced, too. “I delivered her the money.”

  “Damn,” he breathed. “I wonder if her parents are in on the scam. Wouldn’t surprise me at all.”

  “I’m so sorry.” Selby stood. “It’s late. I should go. Dahl will be worried.”

  “Yeah, what happened to him tonight?” Teigen stood as well. “He made himself scarce once the shot was fired.”

  Selby looked up, her expression uncertain. “He went to call for help. Why?”

  “Because that—” He pointed at the packet in Selby’s hand. “Almost fell out of Falko’s pocket. If I hadn’t dived for it, the Nazi’s might have it now.”

  Selby blanched. “I saw… something. You must have been the man that I saw move in and then run.”

  “I ran, because I grabbed that.” He pointed again. “I don’t know what it is, but I knew it was important to keep it away from your dear Captain.”

  She scowled. “He’s not my dear anything. He’s just part of the job.”

  Teigen grunted. “All things considered, a thank you would be appreciated.”

  Selby made a face. “Thank you.”

  She turned and walked to the door. “I’ll see you tomorrow at eleven. Don’t be late. Be early.”

  She opened the door and Teigen leaned against its edge. “What’s your rank?”

  “Lieutenant.” She lifted her chin. “Don’t forget it.”

  Teigen saluted but he was laughing. “No, sir.”

  She turned around and walked down the hall, talking to him without looking back. “We’ll see just how long you laugh, soldier.”

  Chapter

  Sixteen

  After leaving Teigen, Selby’s hands were shaking when she pressed the elevator button for the hotel basement. Nothing about this night had turned out in any way she expected it to.

  Certainly not the Nazi captain’s suspicions being raised and a consequent shot being fired in the middle of the crowd waiting outside the stage door. She wrinkled her nose in disgust.

  Things like that happen when amateurs are involved.

  And not the horrible near-loss of the incriminating packet of forged identity papers.

  Selby had cut her date with Captain Schmidt short by claiming that the shooting had disturbed her so deeply that she couldn’t be the companion he deserved. When she returned to the theater, Dahl told her that Jensen was panicked, and rightly so, that the packet might have fallen into the wrong hands.

  Selby told Dahl at that time that she thought she saw a man take something from him after he fell. Dahl went back to the hospital to talk to the injured man while she waited for him to return.

  “He said he thinks it was his friend who is sharing his hotel room that grabbed it. He’s not Milorg—yet—and doesn’t know what’s in the packet.” Dahl reported and handed her the room key. “He needs to keep it that way.”

  “Got it.” Selby palmed the key. “I’ll sneak in and grab it while he’s sleeping.”

  Dahl touched her cheek. “Be careful, Sel.”

  She knew he meant that he cared about her, but his words irritated her anyway. “I always am. You know that.”

  The elevator door opened to the basement. Selby walked quickly to the janitor’s closet and began to pick the lock. Even though no one was on duty at this hour of the night, she couldn’t risk losing the expensive Arctic fox coat that was part of her actress persona, so she had locked the door.

  That’s careful.

  Once inside the closet, Selby closed the door and locked it again. She rolled the legs of her trouser to above her knees. She took off the soft shoes and stuck them in the pockets of the coat, and stuffed the knit cap into her trouser’s waistband. She skillfully repositioned the blonde wig over her cropped natural hair before stepping into the red pumps she wore when coming here.

  The packet of identity papers was safely inside her shirt, held in place by the bands of cloth which flattened her bosom.

  Donning the fox coat and adding a touch of red lipstick transformed her from thieving urchin back into glamorous actress.

  Selby unlocked the closet and this time left it unlocked, just as it was when she arrived. She took the elevator up to the lobby and strode out with her head high, walking directly toward the clerk at the desk.

  “Thank you again, Sven.” Selby bestowed her best smile on the chubby man who was probably her age. “My pappa will be very grateful that I made time for this quick visit.”

  Sven blushed a little and smiled back. “I’m sure his friend appreciated it as well.”

  “He did. Poor man has been devastated since his wife passed.” Selby made a moue. “But do me a favor, will you?”

  “Anything, Miss Sunde,” he promised, his expression earnest.

  “If people think that I have time to visit their shut-ins or relatives, I’m going to be forced to decline.” Now she looked contrite. “I don’t want to hurt their feelings, you understand, but I just can’t visit everyone.”

  Sven nodded. “I completely understand.”

  “Good.” Selby smiled again. “This will be our little secret.”

  “Thank you, Miss Sunde,” he replied nonsensically.

  She patted the back of his hand. “No, Sven. Thank you.”

  With a wink, Selby turned and walked out of the hotel.

  Curfew was long past, but Selby walked openly down the main streets. If she was discovered out at this hour, she didn’t want to look like she was sneaking around.

  She was two blocks from her own hotel when the order to halt! erupted behind her.

  She did, and turned slowly to face the bright light blinding her. “Good evening, gentlemen.”

  “Miss Sunde?” the awed voice asked from behind the glare.

  Selby shaded her eyes. “Yes.”

  The light lowered as the pair of soldiers approached. “Do you know it’s past curfew?”

  The man’s Norse was stilted but correct. “Yes, and I’m so sorry. Usually Captain Schmidt’s driver drops me at my hotel, but because of the scuffle at the theater tonight our plans were changed.”

  Trusting the Germans understood her she held out her arm. “Would you men please escort me to my hotel? It’s only about two more blocks, but I would feel much safer.”

  As the soldier without the lamp stepped forward, clearly hesitant, Selby looped her arm through his and turned back to her path. “You never know who might be lurking in the shadows, you know?”

  “Uh, ja.”

  The man with the lamp hurried to her other side and shone it unnecessarily on the pavement as they walked.

  “A dear friend of my father’s, recently widowed, is in Bergen tonight and my father asked me to pay the poor man a visit,” Selby prattled cheerily. “I’m afraid the time got away from me.”

  She giggled a little. “When I’m out with Rolf—I mean Captain Schmidt—I never have to worry about the time because I’m with him. You know?”

  “Uh, ja.”

  �
�Anyway, I’m so glad you two showed up. I heard a noise down that alley I passed just before you found me. I’m sure it was just a stray cat, or maybe a dog, but I was a little worried nonetheless.”

  “Uh…”

  “There we are. Just across the street.” Selby stepped from the sidewalk into the empty street. “It’s getting so chilly, isn’t it? I know people don’t think I should have a fox coat, considering the war and all the shortages, but it sure keeps me warm and that’s all that matters. Don’t you agree?”

  “Uh…”

  Selby stopped in front of the hotel and swung around to face the two young soldiers. “Thank you so very much. I’ll be sure to mention to Rolf—um, Captain Schmidt, how courteous you both were.”

  She kissed each soldier lightly on the cheek for good measure. “Good night.”

  Spinning quickly, she ran up the steps and into the hotel without looking back.

  *****

  Dahl waited in the lobby, looking haggard. He jumped up from his seat when he saw her. “What took you so long?”

  Selby nodded a greeting to the night clerk and kept walking toward the elevator. Dahl matched her steps as he walked beside her.

  “You’re never going to believe it.” Selby and Dahl stepped into the open door.

  “Four, please,” Dahl said to the operator.

  “Yes, sir.” He slid the doors closed and swung the lever to take the car upward.

  Dahl stared down at her. “Were you successful?”

  “Yes.”

  They didn’t speak any further. When the elevator slowed to a stop at the fourth floor, the operator opened the doors and the pair of actors stepped out.

  “Have a nice night.”

  Selby smiled at the older man. “Thank you.”

  Dahl escorted her down the hall to the room next to his and waited while she unlocked it. “Should I come in?”

  Selby nodded and opened the door. She crossed to the bed as Dahl closed the door and locked it. She didn’t say anything while she dropped the soft shoes on the bed, removed the fur coat, the red pumps, and the knit hat from her waistband. Before she rolled her trouser legs down, she untucked her shirt and retrieved the packet.

  She handed it to Dahl. “Who gets this?”

  “There should be instructions inside.”

  Selby pulled off the wig. “I’ll be right back.”

  Dahl was already unwrapping the package when Selby turned toward her bathroom.

  Inside the small, tiled sanctuary she turned on the water, letting it run into the sink until it got hot. She carefully placed the blonde wig—one of the three she owned—on its stand. Then she leaned over and washed off the night’s layers of makeup.

  When she straightened and grabbed the towel, the woman who looked back at her in the mirror was one she finally recognized.

  Selby combed her short hair with her fingers, pulled the cloth bands away from her chest to release her squashed breasts, and then padded barefoot back into the bedroom. She sat cross-legged on the bed and waited for Dahl to return his attention to her.

  “Kristiansand,” he murmured. “Captain Ustersen.”

  That made sense—Kristiansand was their next stop. “I assume Jensen already delivered a packet to Helgesen?”

  “I would assume the same thing.” Dahl looked up at her. “These are very good. Expertly made.”

  “Do we know who they’re for?”

  “The Jews in hiding.” He refolded the packet. “The ones who didn’t—or couldn’t—get out.”

  “Speaking of Helgesen…” Selby made sure Dahl was focused on her before she continued. “Is he still coming to the theater tomorrow morning at ten?”

  “Yes.” The packet now rested in Dahl’s lap. “Why?”

  “Because a Milorg recruit will be coming for an interview at eleven…”

  Surprise mingled with confused etched Dahl’s handsome face. “Did you recruit someone tonight?”

  Selby huffed a laugh. “No, Jensen did.”

  “Huh.” Dahl’s expression eased. “By the way, did you know he was one of the teachers sent to Kirkenes?”

  “I do now,” she replied. “Which makes sense, since I met the man he’s traveling with.”

  “Oh, no—were you caught?” Dahl looked suddenly angry. “I know I shouldn’t allow you to do these things, Sel. They’re far too dangerous.”

  As if you could stop me, superior rank or not.

  Time to deflect.

  “Dahl—the man in the hotel room was that teacher. The one I saw on the dock. The one I was hoping would be released when I stayed behind in Trondheim.”

  Dahl’s jaw fell slack. “You’re joking.”

  “No, I’m not.” Selby couldn’t stop herself from grinning like an idiot. “It’s the same guy.”

  Dahl blinked as he put the pieces in order. “And Jensen recruited him? For Milorg?”

  “Yep.” Selby was still smiling. “And so now Helgesen needs to vet him.”

  Dahl wagged his head. “Small world.”

  Selby nodded and yawned. “I don’t mean to be rude, but I’m exhausted.”

  “Of course. Sorry.” Dahl stood and tucked the packet inside his shirt. Then he walked to the bed and kissed Selby on the head. “Good work, Lieutenant. I’ll see you in the morning.”

  Selby smiled. “Thanks, Captain.”

  November 27, 1942

  Bergen, Norway

  Since Norwegian hotels were forced to accommodate German guests, and not the occupied and down-trodden populace, their kitchens were allowed to purchase rations not available to the common people.

  Because of his need to regain his weight, and because it was free to him as a returned Kirkenes teacher, Teigen ate a big traditional breakfast of smoked fish, lefse, fried eggs, and homemade potato klubb which had been sliced and deliciously fried in butter. The coffee was weak but hot, and he drank a lot of it to help him wake up.

  After his stealthy visitor, Selby Sunde—or Hovland as she claimed—left his room, he laid awake for at least an hour contemplating what he learned. If there was no curfew imposed, he would have dressed and gone outside; since returning from the labor camp he found sleeping inside stone buildings a bit cloying, even with the window open.

  Teigen cleared his throat and took another bite of smoked fish, redirecting his thoughts to the points at hand.

  First of all, she remembered him. Furthermore, she said she stayed behind in Trondheim to see if he was one of the teachers being released first from the labor camp.

  That stunned him. He now knew he wasn’t the only one who held on to their shared moment on the dock and found significance in their brief connection.

  Thank you, Lord, that you have let me see her again.

  Second, once he saw Selby without the outward trappings of fame, he found her to be more beautiful than he would have imagined. Her eyes were an amazing shade of pale, pure blue. Her lips were pink enough that she didn’t need the painted-on red. In fact, he highly preferred her without it.

  He even liked the unusually short cut of her thick, light brown hair. Without the distraction of pinned curls or braids, her high cheekbones, slim nose, and delicately pointed chin painted a perfect picture of femininity. He smiled into his coffee cup.

  How could anyone ever believe she was a boy?

  His smile faded when he thought about the third thing he had learned. He set the cup down before he threw it across the hotel’s dining room.

  Elsa Borg was pregnant.

  Pregnant.

  He had last seen her ten months ago. Clearly, she hadn’t wasted any time in finding herself another love.

  Nor in spreading her legs for him.

  And as if that wasn’t bad enough, she was claiming the baby was his. And as a result she was collecting money from the resistance under those false pretenses. Money that surely could be better used elsewhere.

  I’ll put a stop to that, and quickly.

  Of course, that would mean going back to Oslo.<
br />
  How would he manage to go back if he joined Milorg? As a mere soldier, as Selby pointed out, he would be at the mercy of Major Helgesen and the decisions he made.

  Maybe I could ask him to station me in Oslo.

  The idea came to him hand-in-hand with obvious warnings.

  He was known in Oslo. His initial arrest and subsequent imprisonment in Kirkenes were also known. He couldn’t move around the city without being recognized, and those who joined hands with Quisling would be eager to expose him if his new role was discovered.

  And honestly, it would be hard to hide it from his friends there, many of whom were resistance supporters themselves.

  The biggest risk would come from Elsa. She and her parents were going to be furious when he revealed her deception. Not only because of their funds being cut off, but because her loose morals would be made public.

  Once that came to light, the Borg family would do anything to destroy him. He had absolutely no doubt about it.

  Teigen sighed and pushed himself away from the table. He needed to go upstairs and ready himself for his meeting with the major. He would just have to wait and see what happened after that.

  Chapter

  Seventeen

  “A new recruit?” Major Hans Helgesen looked interested.

  “Yes, sir,” Selby answered. “Falko Jensen, the teacher who was shot last night, recruited him when they were both in the labor camp at Kirkenes.”

  Helgesen looked at Dahl. “Have you met him?”

  Dahl shook his head. “Not yet.”

  Helgesen’s expression turned pensive. “If I’d been arrested for no reason and shipped to the far ends of the earth, I’d be spitting fire right about now.”

  One of the Royal Shakespearean Acting Troupe stage hands leaned forward. “Can I have a word, sir?”

  Helgesen turned to face the muscular young man with calloused hands. “Of course.”

  “Well, sir,” he said softly as he held out a folded piece of paper. “I received this from my mother.”

  The major unfolded the telegram and read the brief message. Then he nodded, refolded the paper, and handed it back.