by Kris Tualla
“We received intelligence today concerning the ship that dropped anchor in Bergen harbor yesterday evening.” Helgesen slid the paper across his desk toward Teigen. “Read this.”
He did. “The cargo is dynamite, fuses and blasting caps?”
“It’s a munitions ship.” Helgesen gave Teigen a significant look. “And we’re going to blow it up.”
Teigen stared at the major, stunned. “How big of an explosion will that be?”
“According to regulations, only ships with less than fifty tons of explosives are allowed into the harbor.” Helgesen gave an acknowledging shrug. “It’ll still make an impressive point.”
His presence at this meeting became obvious. “You want me to make the bomb.”
“You did an excellent job with the desks, Hansen.” The major smiled. “I know you’ll do the same here.”
Teigen’s mind was whirling. “How do we get the bomb on the ship?”
“That’s my part to play,” Helgesen stated. “You make the bomb.” He smiled coldly. “You have three days.”
*****
“Three days?” Selby stared at Teigen. “Can you do it?”
“I don’t have a choice.” He rummaged through his things and retrieved the one chemistry book which had survived his travels. “I’m meeting Falko for lunch and we’re going to look for supplies after that.”
Selby looked skeptical. “It took you how long to figure out the desks?”
Teigen straightened. “That was different. There were mechanics involved.”
“And this?”
“This will be one single bomb with a fuse long enough to allow the man who places it to escape before it explodes.” Teigen steeled himself for her response.
Her pale eyes shot icy daggers at him. “And you’re that man?”
“Not necessarily,” he deflected. “Helgesen said that how the bomb is put in place is his responsibility to figure out.”
“This is terrifying, Teigen.” Selby struggled not to let her emotions show. “I don’t want you to do it.”
“I’ll make the bomb,” he said. “I don’t have to agree to take it to the ship.”
But could I trust anyone else not to kill themselves doing it?
Selby closed her eyes. “Go. Just go.”
Teigen stepped forward and planted a robust kiss on her mouth. “I’ll be back for supper.”
*****
Selby spent the afternoon wandering through the scantily stocked shops in central Bergen. All the while, she could see the hulking gray munitions ship dominating the harbor.
Blow your own damn self up. Don’t make my husband do it.
Great.
Now she was talking to ships in her head.
With nothing else to do, she sat on a bench. She didn’t dare spend money on a cup of tea or coffee yet. Until they had a couple of months’ experience in paying their own bills behind them, she and Teigen agreed to no purchases that weren’t necessities.
She ran her fingers through her hair, wondering if she should cut it short again. It had grown three inches since she cut it last and the sides brushed against her neck in a very annoying tickle. It was also hard to style with its undecided length.
Teigen said he liked it short. He hadn’t said anything else about her hair since it had grown.
That’s it. I’ll cut it tonight.
The physical intimacy between the two of them had stalled out once they were in Arendal. And it hadn’t picked up again since arriving back in Bergen. The most surprising thing about that was that Selby was truthfully missing Teigen’s touch.
Maybe after she cut and washed her hair tonight, she would initiate something. Maybe let him touch her more intimately than she had before. It was time to take another step.
And that called for a bottle of wine.
This is a necessity. I’m sure he’ll agree.
Selby rose from the bench, threw another mental curse at the ship, and walked to the only liquor store she knew of. She greeted the proprietor and wandered down the half-empty aisles looking for a bottle she could afford.
A voice from the front of the store sent ice through her veins.
It can’t be.
He’s hundreds of miles away.
In Trondheim.
Selby peeked around the shelves. What she saw stole her ability to breathe. She backed up and grabbed the nearest wooden shelf to steady herself.
Lieutenant Fritz Walder was here. In Bergen.
Why didn’t I bring my gun?
Because, she chided herself, you don’t want to die because you killed him in public. You want to do it cleverly.
She heard footsteps coming down the other aisle. Selby turned around and tip-toed to the front of the store. She pretended to examine a bottle of something until she saw movement at the spot she just vacated.
When she did, she crossed to the door, smiled at the man behind the counter, and walked out.
*****
Selby stood in front of the mirror in their boarding house washroom, scissors in hand, and cut the first lock of her hair. There was no going back now.
After every few snips she took a tiny sip of the wine she went back to buy after Walder left the liquor store. Her hands stopped shaking after the first cut and she moved forward, remembering how she’d done this countless times before.
She used her hand mirror to check the back and make necessary corrections. When she finished, she examined her reflection critically.
Teigen was right. Her eyes were more noticeable with the wispy fringe above them. She tucked the sides behind her ears, and then pulled out a strand on either side. She used the edge of the scissor’s blade to turn them into wisps that curled under her cheekbones.
Satisfied with the result, she replaced her clothes with her robe, grabbed her towel, and headed to the shower.
*****
Teigen couldn’t stop staring at his wife. With the black eyeliner, burgundy lips, and short hair she was stunning. And he told her so. Several times.
Her resultant smile made his nether regions sit up and take notice.
Down boy. Not yet.
During supper she told him about seeing Fritz Walder in town. That doused his arousal with a rage so visceral that he struggled to hold himself in his seat and not charge out into the evening to strangle the man.
“Can Falko find out why he’s here?” Selby asked.
“I’m sure he can. Why?”
“The lieutenant might be summoned to a ship right before it blows up.”
Her voice was so calm and sweet it took Teigen a moment to realize what she suggested. It was brilliant.
“Yes. Yes, he might.”
Once back in their room Selby poured him a glass of the wine. “This was a necessary purchase,” she forestalled his question. “I was so disturbed by running into you-know-who that I almost lost my train of thought.”
Teigen looked at her curiously. “Are you trying to seduce me?”
“Sort of.” She poured her own glass. “I want to start moving forward again.”
She set the bottle on the dresser and turned her back to him. “Unzip me?”
*****
Selby laid on the bed in Teigen’s arms. The only light in the room came through the cracked-open washroom door and the full moon outside. She answered his kisses and his caresses until he slid his hand between her thighs.
Nothing stood in the way but her flimsy silk panties.
She gasped a little.
“Relax, sweetheart,” he whispered between intoxicating kisses which she accepted with increasing curiosity.
As his fingers gently stroked her through the silk, she opened her legs a little to give his large hand room to move.
“Oh, no,” she murmured in dismay. “Did I wet myself?”
To his credit, Teigen didn’t laugh at her. “No, that’s how your body prepares for my eventual entry. It’s normal. It’s good.”
Relieved, Selby relaxed. Teigen’s touches sent chil
ls over her skin while a ball of heat was growing low in her belly. She pressed her hips against his hand. It felt so good she wanted more.
“Don’t stop,” she whispered against his lips. She sensed she was building to something but she had no idea what it was. She just needed him to keep doing what he was doing.
Without warning a spasm of intense pleasure shot through her, zinging outward from her core to the tips of her fingers and toes. Selby stiffened, shook and whimpered. Her breaths came in huffs.
When it passed, she was limp as wet grass. For a moment she couldn’t find her voice. Or open her eyes.
Teigen kissed her softly on the lips.
“What… what happened?” she rasped.
He ran his lips along her jaw. “I believe you just experienced your first orgasm, my love.”
Chapter
Forty One
April 18, 1944
“The resistance paper said that ‘public outrage against Lieutenant Fritz Walder for the unprovoked beating of beloved actress Selby Sunde resulted in the officer being relocated to Bergen.’ It also claimed that his pending promotion was withdrawn.” Falko nudged Teigen. “Are you listening?”
“What? Yes. Of course.” Teigen tried to push last night’s play with Selby from his mind. He didn’t succeed. “That’s good.”
“So what are you thinking of?”
Selby’s pleasure releasing in my hand. “Selby, uh, suggested that the lieutenant might be summoned to the ship right before it explodes.”
“Oh! That’s brilliant!” Falko whooped. “We need to make sure that happens.”
Teigen blinked himself stoically back into the conversation. “Do you know where he lives?”
“I know where he works, isn’t that good enough?”
Of course. “The same office where we blew up Schmidt.”
Falko nodded. “Right.”
“Okay. Back to work.” Teigen stared at the scattered items on the table in the back of the same barn where he armed the first desk to explode. “The main thing we need to assure is that the bomb doesn’t explode too soon. We need a slow-burning fuse.”
Falko lifted a coil of treated flax cord. “This is slow burning, I think.”
“Let’s test it.”
Teigen lit the end of the fuse and timed its burn for sixty seconds before cutting the little piece from the coil and watching it sputter out. “How far was that?”
“Not even an inch.”
“Perfect. Let’s try it again.” They did.
“This was actually half an inch,” Falko said.
“And the tip only glows,” Teigen approved. “No flame to draw attention or risk setting anything else on fire.” He looked at Falko. “Where did you get this?”
“I found it.”
“Where?”
Falko tossed a thumb over his shoulder. “Back there. Under a bunch of stuff.”
Teigen huffed a laugh. “Did you know it was a fuse?”
Falko’s eyes twinkled. “Nope.”
*****
The plan was set: insert a fifteen-inch length of the slow burning flax cord into a pouch of gunpowder, light it, and tuck it out of sight as close to the cargo hold as possible. That would give the operative thirty minutes to get to safety.
“Are you certain of the timing?” Helgesen asked.
Teigen nodded. “We tested it five times. Every test had the same burn rate.”
“And how much gunpowder will you use?”
“Three times as much as we did for the desks.”
Helgesen looked impressed. “So could we expect a thirty-foot radius in the explosion?”
“Yes, sir,” Falko answered. “If for some reason it doesn’t ignite the dynamite, it will start one heck of a fire.”
“And that fire will detonate anything it touches” Teigen stated the obvious.
“Simple and effective. Good work Hansen.”
“Thank you sir.”
Falko shifted his stance and looked unconcerned. “Do you know who will be placing the bomb?”
Helgesen looked a little less confident. “We’re talking to a pair of mechanics who’ve worked on German ships before. They can actually board the ship without being questioned.”
Teigen sighed his relief. Selby will be happy to hear that. “That’s good.”
The major looked at Teigen for an uncomfortably silent moment before saying, “Come back tomorrow at four. I’ll have the rest of the details for you then.”
Selby was, indeed, happy—in spite of the fact she was in bed with a hot water bottle and cramps. Any hope of repeating last night’s experience, and maybe taking their intimacy a step further, was now delayed for a few days.
“I’m sorry,” she croaked.
“Sorry? For what?” Teigen tried to act as if nothing of importance had happened. “This happens every month. It’s normal.”
“I know. But, well… I don’t know.” Selby’s lips twisted and pressed together.
Teigen kissed her until her lips untwisted and softened. “It’s only a few days.”
April 19, 1944
Teigen and Falko stood in front of Major Hans Helgesen’s desk for the third day in a row.
“Here’s the plan,” the major began as he handed Teigen a small map of Bergen Harbor. “You’ll meet two men, Lauritz Sletten and Lars Hamre, at seven-thirty tomorrow morning at this point here.” He pointed to a dock in the area marked Nordnes. “Show them how to set and light the bomb and make sure they understand exactly what to do.”
“Yes, sir.”
“They’re going to row a boat across this way,” the major’s finger traced a path over the water, “to the ship. They’ll board, set the bomb, and leave.”
Helgesen met Teigen’s gaze. “It’s a simple business. Any questions?”
“No, sir.”
Helgesen looked relieved. “One last thing, gentlemen.”
Teigen waited, apprehensive about what might come next. He glanced at Falko who looked as uncertain as he felt.
“Tomorrow is Adolf Hitler’s fifty-fifth birthday.” Helgesen smiled crookedly. “Let’s give him something to remember the day by.”
Teigen grinned. “Yes, sir!”
As they left the office, Teigen turned to Falko. “It’s time to send a note to Walder.”
“Agreed.”
Teigen wrote the note, since he spoke German fluently:
Lieutenant Walder,
Would you please join me for breakfast on the bridge of the Voorbode on Thursday, April 20th at 08:00? I would like to learn more about our offices in Trondheim and I understand you spent some time there.
I look forward to meeting with you.
Captain R. M. Forsen
ST Voorbode
Falko saw that it was delivered directly into Walder’s hands that same afternoon.
April 20, 1944
The weather the next morning was cloudy and cold with a substantial breeze. Falko came along with Teigen as moral support, though he seemed as giddy as a schoolgirl. Teigen suspected Falko wanted to be there just to be part of the objective.
They arrived at the rendezvous spot a few minutes early but the engineers were already waiting there. After completing their introductions, Teigen pulled out the length of fuse and the linen pouch of gunpowder.
“Tie the end of this cord—it’s the fuse—into the pouch of powder before you light the fuse,” he instructed.
Lauritz Sletten looked alarmed. “Why is the fuse so short?”
“It burns very slowly,” Teigen answered. “Half an inch a minute.”
Falko pointed at the cord. “That’s fifteen inches, so you’ll have half an hour to get out of the way.”
Lauritz shifted his gaze to his partner. “Lars, do you trust this?”
Lars Hamre shrugged. “Helgesen said this man knows what he’s doing.”
“It’s really very simple. Look.” Teigen held the pouch and the fuse together. “We can even tie it now if you want.”
&nbs
p; “Let me.” Falko took the parts and used a thin piece of wire to secure them together. “There.”
He handed the bomb back to Lauritz but the mechanic put up his hands. “I’m sorry. I can’t do this.”
“Come on, Lauritz,” Lars cajoled. “In and out. And then we run away while the shitheads blow up.”
Lauritz shook his head. “They’ll know we did it. They’ll come after us.”
“You don’t have to set the bomb right away,” Teigen suggested. “You could stay and pretend to work for a while.”
“Then say you have to go get a part and you’ll be back,” Falko added.
Teigen nodded his agreement. “Exactly. And light the fuse right before you leave.”
Lauritz shook his head and backed away. “No. I can’t. I can’t do this.”
Teigen grunted his frustration. “Fine. Give me your jacket.”
Now Falko looked alarmed. “Selby will kill you, man.”
Teigen wiggled his fingers to hurry the mechanic up. “In and out. She’ll never need to know.” He looked at Lars. “You lead the way.”
Lars nodded uncertainly. “And you’ll light the fuse?”
“Yes.”
Five minutes later Teigen was wearing Lauritz Sletten’s jacket and hat and sitting in the prow of the boat as Lars rowed them toward the ship.
“The lower deck door is on the other side,” he said to Teigen. “It’s usually open when the ship’s at anchor.”
“Have you worked on this ship before?”
“Not this one, no.” He squinted into the glare of the cloud-covered sun. “But they’re all the same.”
“You do the talking.”
Lars nodded. “I will.”
They reached the side of the ship with the lower deck door and it was open. Lars edged the rowboat between the ship and the dock while Teigen tossed the rope to a waiting sailor.
“We’re here to take a look at your engines,” Lars shouted. “Captain Forsen said they’re running rough.”
The sailor nodded and handed the men aboard. “Do you know where to go?”