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

by Kris Tualla

  “No.” Selby glanced at the third scribbled attempt to call off her date with the Nazi which waited on her dressing table. “I just don’t feel like spending tonight with a Nazi German.”

  “Tonight?” Ugh. Of course he picked up her unfortunate designation. “Is tonight special for some reason?”

  Selby heaved a resigned sigh. She might as well tell him.

  “Today’s my birthday.”

  “Are you joking?” Teigen’s head fell back and he laughed. “Really? Today?”

  Selby looked at him like he was as crazy as he was acting. “Why is that funny?”

  Teigen grinned at her. “Because my birthday’s tomorrow!”

  Her jaw dropped. “How old are you?”

  “I’ll be twenty-eight at one minute past midnight.” He raised his brows. “How about you?”

  Selby cringed, inwardly and outwardly. Why did he have to younger than her?

  Okay, only a year, but still…

  “I’m twenty-nine.”

  “Ooh, an older woman,” he teased. “I better watch myself.”

  “Yeah,” Selby groused. “Or I might seduce you and have my way with you.”

  “Promises, promises.” Teigen’s features shifted and his eyes looked like green flames.

  He leaned forward and spoke before her outrage reached her tongue. “But seriously, Sel. Push him off tonight. Let’s celebrate our both surviving another year.”

  The offer was tempting. Too tempting to ignore.

  “How long before the desk is ready?”

  Teigen didn’t seem put-off by her change of subject. Instead he pulled a cigarette lighter from his pocket. “If I can get this to light when the drawer closes, we can deliver the desk the next day.”

  Selby looked at her watch. It was only two o’clock. “Are you going back to work on it?”

  “Yeah. Falko and I just finished lunch and he’s picking up the gunpowder he somehow managed to round up.” Teigen stood. “So after the show tonight, we’ll have a late supper at the hotel. Deal?”

  She looked up at him. “I’m serious about Schmidt.”

  “I know.” Teigen’s expression was grim. “He shot my friend in the middle of a crowd so I can’t think of a better candidate.”

  “I’ve just sentenced a man to die.”

  “The world’s at war, Selby. And Schmidt is the enemy.” Teigen leaned over and kissed the top of her head. “I’ll see you later.”

  Selby watched his back as he left and something swelled in her chest.

  He’ll protect me.

  *****

  “Okay, try it now.”

  Falko pushed the desk’s center drawer closed. The lever on the lighter depressed, but not quite far enough.

  “That’s closer, at least.”

  Teigen bent over the back of the desk and shoved another tiny shim between the desk’s outer wall and the lighter’s brace. The idea was for the back of the drawer to hit the lever and light the lighter.

  After an hour and a half of trial and error, he and Falko had reached the point where they were ready to give up and start designing the more complicated two-chemical-reaction method.

  Teigen straightened. “Try it again.”

  Falko closed the drawer.

  A tiny flame sprung to life.

  “Ha HA!” Teigen whooped. “Do it again.”

  Falko obliged. Eight more tries produced five more flames. “Ten tries and seven flames.” Falko grinned at Teigen. “Is seventy percent good enough?”

  “Maybe.” Teigen was smiling as he bent over to watch the mechanics one more time. “Do it slowly…”

  Falko did.

  “Stop!” Teigen grabbed a shim and made a final adjustment. “Try it now.”

  Six closings of the drawer produced six flames.

  Falko spun in an elated circle. “We did it!”

  “Now we need to replicate it.” Teigen grabbed his tape measure and logged the placement and size of every component in his notepad. Then he drew an overall sketch, one view from above, and the other from the side.

  He looked at Falko. “Where’s the gunpowder?”

  Falko handed him the little linen pouch. It was filled with the precise amount of the explosive material which Teigen and Dierks determined would get the job done. Teigen tacked it to the back of the closed drawer exactly one inch from the lighter.

  “Won’t do any good if the powder snuffs the flame…” he said.

  He straightened and looked at Falko, his heart pounding and his hands shaking. “It’s done.”

  Falko wrapped a tight strap around the desk to keep the top drawers—specifically the center one—from accidentally opening. To avoid rousing any suspicions, the lower drawers were strapped as well.

  The two men carefully replaced the top on the desk, then stepped back to stare at it. Teigen wasn’t sure what Falko was thinking, but he was terrified. The idea that he had designed and built a bomb for the purpose of killing a man had suddenly become very real.

  I’m a science teacher, not a subversive murderer.

  Images of the freezing labor camp and the death of Jans exploded in his mind, and he realized that everything about the man he had been was changed by that horrific experience.

  I’m a soldier at war.

  “Who’s our lucky recipient?” Falko asked. “Did Helgesen tell you?”

  “No. But I know who’ll get this.” Teigen turned to look at Falko. “The asshole who shot you.”

  Falko’s smile looked more like a sneer. “I like the way you think.”

  Teigen moved to clean up the space and pack his chemicals away. “Let’s see that this gets delivered tomorrow.”

  Chapter

  Twenty Nine

  March 18, 1943

  Selby couldn’t stop pacing.

  First in her hotel room before she went down for breakfast. But that was mostly because her birthday supper with Teigen had been so intimate.

  Not physically, of course. They were in a public setting. It was their conversation that was so startling.

  Teigen had been fidgeting throughout the meal and he didn’t finish it—a certain sign that something weighed on him. But when Selby pressed the point, he spoke to her in unrestrained honesty.

  “I was angry at my brother for joining the Norwegian army the day we were attacked,” he said. “Because I felt like I was forced to take a lesser path as a result.”

  Selby had heard him say this before. “Stay back and make sure your parents were all right.”

  Teigen nodded slowly. “So joining Milorg has given me the opportunity to do something here.”

  Selby lifted her wine goblet. “I believe you are about to say but…” She sipped the single glass of wine the hotel would serve her, nursing it the way the hotel nursed their meager supply.

  “Yes. But.” Teigen didn’t smile. “It wasn’t until I attached the pouch of gunpowder next to the lighter that I realized I was actually going to kill someone.”

  Selby was an excellent shot, and practiced whenever the rare opportunity arose. Trees, cans, and bottles weren’t threats and she had never aimed her gun at a human. Except the night she broke into Teigen’s hotel room, of course.

  But I wasn’t really going to shoot him.

  And when she set her mother’s house on fire, no one was inside it—she and her husband were already dead.

  The reality of Teigen’s words sank into her chest. “And I selected a man to die.”

  “We are at war with a terrible enemy, Sel. One who judges the value of a man by the color of his eyes and hair.” Teigen was clearly speaking to himself as much as he was talking to her. “I was arrested and imprisoned, forced to work and live under inhuman conditions for seven months, because I disagreed with that philosophy.”

  Selby shuddered. “And look at what’s happened to the Jews in Norway. Over two thousand have been sent to Auschwitz and Birkenau.”

  Teigen’s face was drawn and his cheeks sunken. “We have to do what
we can to stop—or at least hamper—Hitler’s efforts. It’s our moral duty, I think.”

  Selby reached over and laid her hand on his. “I agree with you, Teig. But I don’t feel any better about it than you do.”

  His eyes narrowed. “Am I weak?”

  Selby’s breath caught. “No. Not at all. I think a man who kills or hurts without pause is weak. You’re the strongest man I ever met.”

  His cheeks lifted in a regretful smile. “Tor is in the army, and he has to fight man-to-man. He shoots men whose eyes he can see. Before today I never understood that burden.”

  Selby intertwined her fingers with Teigen’s, but didn’t say anything. What was there to say?

  Now she was pacing inside the theater. She came early, too nervous about the desk delivery to stay at the hotel. She knew Teigen was seeing to the final details and hoped he would come to the theater when he was finished.

  “Helgesen’s sending a couple men with a truck to meet us at the barn,” he told her as he finished his hurried breakfast. “They’re going to say they’re stevedores from the dock, and that the desk was shipped by someone in Quisling’s office as a reward for the captain’s efforts here in Bergen.”

  Selby sighed. “At least he’ll die happy.”

  And I’ll be free of him.

  The back door to the theater opened sending a bright and brief streak of sunlight across the stage. Selby ran to see who it was.

  “Oh.” She tried to hide her nervous disappointment. “Hi, Bennett.”

  “He’s not back yet?”

  “No.”

  Bennett looked around the backstage area as if trying to find a task to occupy his time, while at the same time appearing completely distracted.

  Of course he was. They all were.

  “Is Ben painting again?”

  “Yeah.” Selby chuckled. “He’s redoing the Italian backdrops now.”

  Bennett grinned. “I sure can’t complain about that. The kid’s darn good.”

  “Are you talking about me?” Ben walked toward the work sink, dirty brushes in hand.

  “Why, your ears burning?” Bennett teased.

  “Nope. Just being modest.” He smiled puckishly. “I knew it was me.”

  The door opened again and all three turned to see if Teigen would make his appearance.

  “Hey, Dahl.” Bennett’s tone shouted his unfulfilled hopes.

  “He’s not back yet?”

  Three voices chorused, “No.”

  The door opened again. Teigen stopped, surprised by the four troupe members clustered just inside. “Is everything all right?”

  “You tell us!” Dahl pushed the door shut behind him. “We’ve been waiting for you.”

  Selby watched Teigen’s face, looking for signs of his mood. He looked resigned. Nervous. And satisfied.

  “We loaded the desk, told the guys to be very careful, and they drove off.” He looked at his watch. “I expect they might have reached Nazi headquarters by now.” Five pair of eyes moved around the little circle.

  “What now?” Ben asked, the bouquet of dirty paint brushes still clutched in his fist.

  Teigen looked at his charge. “We wait. See if it works.”

  Selby walked to the coat rack and grabbed her jacket. “I’m going out.” She stopped and looked up at Teigen. “You coming?”

  *****

  Teigen didn’t need to be asked twice. He followed Selby out the door and back into the bright spring day. “Where’re we going?”

  “We’re going out for lunch, somewhere within a block of the place.”

  “It’s a little early for lunch, don’t you think?”

  She stopped her march and turned to face him. “Then we’ll have coffee. Or shop. Or all three.”

  Teigen put up his hands to stop her tirade. “I know what you want to do, Sel, and I’m in complete agreement. I just don’t want to draw any attention by doing something unusual.”

  She seemed to accept his logic. “Then what do we do?”

  “If you don’t mind acting a little,” he began. “We could hold hands and take a leisurely stroll around the area. Like a loving couple enjoying the day.”

  The look she gave him would have wilted a weaker man. “Are you serious?”

  He shrugged. “It’s just an idea. Do you have a better one?”

  Selby’s lips squished together as if trying to hold back a string of inappropriate words.

  Then she grabbed his hand. “Fine.”

  Teigen flexed his fingers under her viselike grip. “I’ll probably need my hand to be in working order later.”

  She loosened her fingers.

  They walked down the alley beside the theater, heading toward the street. “I actually would like a cup of coffee,” he ventured.

  When they reached the street, Selby turned him away from the front of the theater. “I know a little place about a block-and-a-half from the offices.”

  “Teigen?”

  He stopped, and then slowly turned toward the voice.

  The tall man in a Norwegian army uniform grinned crazily and ran down the theater’s front steps. “It is you, brother!”

  “Tor?” Teigen was stunned. “What are you doing here?”

  “I came to find you, you idiot!” Tor launched himself at Teigen and wrapped him in a back-pounding hug that Teigen returned.

  Tor came to find me.

  Teigen’s chest warmed with affection for his older brother. “How?” he blurted.

  “I was just in Arendal. Mamma told me where you were.” Tor loosened his hold and fell back. “I wanted to see you before I left.”

  “Left?” Teigen frowned. “Where’re you going now?”

  Tor’s blue eyes shone above his wide grin. “England first, then America. Camp Hale in Colorado.”

  “Why?” was the only response that came to Teigen’s mind.

  “Seems the American soldiers need to learn how to ski.”

  “And you’re going to teach them?”

  Tor looked a little taken aback by the question. “I did qualify for the Olympics, remember?”

  “Yeah.” Teigen spent his entire life trying to live up to Tor’s legacy. “Too bad the war got in the way.”

  Tor turned to Selby. “We haven’t met. I’m Captain Tor Hansen. Teigen’s big brother.”

  “So I gathered.” Teigen appreciated Selby’s cool demeanor. Much like Dahl, Tor always seemed to attract female attention. “I’m—”

  “The beautiful and talented Selby Sunde. Yes, I know.” Tor smiled and gave a little bow. “I am very pleased to meet you.”

  Selby smiled sweetly. “We were just about to go get a cup of coffee. Would you care to join us?”

  *****

  Teigen was so shocked by his brother’s appearance that he didn’t seem to know where to start their conversation.

  Thankfully, Selby did. She looped her arms through both brothers’ elbows and resumed walking away from the theater.

  “The first thing you need to know, Tor, is that the acting troupe is a device which covers our true purpose. I’m a lieutenant in Milorg and your brother is a sergeant.” She kept her voice low, watching surreptitiously for unwanted ears. “He joined after he was released from Kirkenes.”

  Tor turned to look at Teigen over Selby’s head. “Mamma didn’t tell me that.”

  “Mamma doesn’t know,” Teigen murmured. “She thinks I’m just helping the troupe. She doesn’t know I’m active duty.”

  “He thought she’d worry too much if she knew,” Selby added. “You understand—having both of her sons in danger.”

  Teigen squeezed her elbow.

  She looked up at him. He smiled his thanks.

  “So the whole troupe is Milorg?” Tor whispered.

  Selby turned back to Tor. “Yes. And now that you know that, you’ll understand if certain topics of conversation might have to wait until you two are alone.”

  “Absolutely.”

  “How long will you be in Bergen?”
Teigen asked.

  Tor’s expression sobered. “I’m taking the Shetland Bus out of Telavåg tomorrow. I wish I could stay longer, but, well you know how it is.”

  The trio reached the café and claimed three metal chairs around a small rusting table.

  “I’ll go in and see about our coffee,” Selby offered. “You two start catching up.”

  *****

  Teigen stared at Tor. The two brothers had often been mistaken for twins; the only significant difference in their looks was the color of their eyes. Tor’s were blue.

  “Mamma said you were in Kirkenes.” Tor’s voice held a surprising trace of awe. “What was that like?”

  Teigen drew a deep breath and told Tor his story as Selby returned and took her seat by his side.

  Having her there steadied him as he relived the nightmare: from the midnight beating and arrest, through Grini and the train ride north, down to every detail of the exhausting work schedule, substandard living conditions, hellish weather, and his eventual release.

  Tor’s expression grew more horrified with each sentence of the narrative. “God, Teig. I had no idea you were caught up in that.”

  “He has Elsa to thank. She turned him in.” For some reason, Selby wanted Tor to know about Teigen’s fiancée’s betrayal.

  “No!” Tor stared at Teigen. “You cut her loose, of course.”

  “More than that. I had her arrested.”

  Teigen explained about Elsa’s fraudulent salary claim and her choice to become involved with the Nazis through the Lebensborn project.

  “I can’t believe it, Teig. “Tor wagged his head sadly. “What a selfish bitch she turned out to be.”

  Selby looked at her watch for the third time since they finished their weak coffee.

  “Lighters don’t spark every time.”

  Her gaze jumped to Teigen’s. “I know. It’s just… the waiting. And the wondering.”

  “Is something going on?” Tor asked.

  “No. We just need to get back to the theater in time to get ready for tonight’s performance,” Teigen lied.

  Teigen could see the front of the Nazi headquarters down the street. So far, there was no unusual activity as brown-clad bastards entered and left the peaceful building.