The Odin Mission

have stored in my head. What I have told you is how it can be done in its most simplified form. Believe me, Sergeant Tanner, reaching a stage where oil might actually be extracted from below the seabed has taken literally years of work. If it comes to it, I will burn them, but I have been hoping that with your help it will not.'

'Yet you didn't leave Oslo as the King ordered you to.'

'Because I thought that without the King in Oslo, I could be anonymous, forgotten. The arrival of Gulbrand made me realize otherwise. The experiences of the past week have confirmed my worst fears.'

Tanner ran his hands through his hair. So, he thought. It's all about oil. 'Tell me one last thing, Professor,' he said. 'Wouldn't such a platform be vulnerable to attack from the air and the sea?'

'You surround it with thick and deep minefields, and it would be within easy reach of land. In any case, you're forgetting, Sergeant, that the Nazis fully expect to control all of Europe. Or, at least, they expect all of Europe will be compliant with their designs. And after the way in which they have invaded our country, who is to stop them? Not the British.'

'We're being defeated here, I know,' said Tanner, 'but that doesn't mean we'll lose the entire war.'

'Maybe you won't lose. But can you defeat the Nazis? No. Not at the moment, at any rate. But I think Hitler is looking beyond Europe.'

'What do you mean by that?'

'I mean America and Russia.'

'But they're allied with the Russians and America isn't even in the war.'

'Not yet, but it is only a matter of time. And when that day comes Germany will need vast amounts of oil - which the Soviet Union and the United States have in abundance.'

Tanner shook his head. 'What happens next month, next year, is beyond me, Professor. All I want to think about at the moment is getting us out of here. Getting you to safety.'

'But you see now why that is so important?'

'Yes - and thank you, Professor.' He shook his head again. 'Oil - I would never have guessed. I thought it must be some secret weapon.'

Sandvold chuckled. 'In a way it is. But take heart, Sergeant. Without oil, the Nazis won't win. Not in the long term.'

In the dank confines of the seter, Tanner and Sykes prepared for their reconnaissance mission. It was nearly half past ten. From their packs they took out the German uniforms they had captured several days earlier, and put on the tunics, wind jackets and field caps. Both men had lost their Mauser rifles at Tretten, but they took two from the Norwegians, as well as several rounds of ammunition. Their own uniforms and packs - including the explosives - they left with Lance Corporal Erwood and their men.

'Heil, mein Fiihrer!' said McAllister, standing up and performing a mock Nazi salute, one finger pressed above his lip.

Tanner laughed, then turned to Chevannes and the Norwegians. 'We'll be off, then, sir,' he said. 'We'll have a good look at the town, but then we'll head west down the lake and try to find a good crossing-place.'

'Yes,' said Chevannes. 'Now go.'

In the darkening light, they headed towards the valley, Tanner explaining his plan. It was nearly dark by the time they reached the lower slopes directly above the bridge into Vagamo, but there was still just light enough for them to study it sufficiently. Two stone pillars jutted out from the banks at either side, and across it there was a simple iron construction much like the bridges they had already seen in the Gudbrandsdal valley.

'What do you think, Stan?' said Tanner, from their position among the trees.

'It can be as strong as it likes,' he replied, 'but if it's got a wooden roadbed, we're going to be able to put it out of action. Simple as that.'

There were, they noted, just two guards on the bridge, both on the southern side. 'That'll make life easier,' said Tanner.

'What I want to know, Sarge, is why Jerry's here anyway.'

'Because of that road, I should think,' said Tanner. 'It gives them another line of advance north towards Andalsnes. And it might also be because they're hoping to catch us. But it's clear they're not using it yet. I've not seen any movement north.'

With the light now all but gone, they moved quietly away through the trees until they were a safe distance from the bridge, then dropped down on to the valley road. The night sky was clear. Millions of stars twinkled above, reflected in the inky darkness of the lake. A thin crescent moon stood high over the valley and, with the stars, cast a pale creamy light across the landscape, enabling the two men to see the shape of the road, the lake, the mountains.

A few miles to the west the road forked. 'Where's that lead?' whispered Sykes. 'I'm pretty sure back to Heidel and Sjoa,' said Tanner. 'It's quite a long way round, though.' He paused to study its approach, then the valley. He could no longer see the knoll in front of the seter.

They walked on a short way through the silence, the air cool and crisp, until they reached the small headland that projected into the lake. There was a farmstead, but a small wooden jetty too - and, as Tanner had hoped, a number of small boats.

It was a little after midnight. The dawn of a new day - and the last, he realized, of the month. Twelve days they'd been in Norway. It felt like eternity.

With the first streaks of dawn, theseter stirred into life. The dusty floor was hard and uncomfortable, and although the soldiers were used to sleeping wherever they had to, most had had enough rest over the past twenty-four hours to ensure they now slept only lightly. As they woke, they stumbled outside, some to urinate nearby, others to wander somewhat further. Since Anna had joined them they had been more careful about such things.

One of their number, an agent of the Sicherheitsdienst wandered away from the hut, safe in the knowledge that it was possible to break away from the others for a few minutes without arousing any suspicion whatsoever. At least, it was now that Sergeant Tanner and Corporal Sykes were away. It had been difficult during the past couple of days with them watching every move; they suspected someone, that was certain. But not me, the agent had decided. At any rate, with them out of the way for the time being, there was now a clear chance for him to send another signal.

Passing within clear sight of the sentry, the agent smiled - morning ablutions - and then headed into the woodland until the seter was out of sight. Finding as wide a tree as possible, the traitor squatted and took two small metal boxes from a haversack, both no more than five and a half inches long, four and a half wide. One was a transmitter, the other the accumulator. From a pocket, three leads were produced, each with crocodile clips. The agent attached the two boxes together, then turned a small black knob at the front of the transmitter until it clicked, causing a faint light within the box to glow. From another pocket, a long length of wire was produced, which was then connected to the back of the box with trembling fingers. This done, the person took the weighted end and threw it high into the tree above. With a hammering heart, the agent glanced round, even though it would have been possible to hear anyone approaching. Then a quick look back down at the transmitter. The light was glowing brighter now, as the valves warmed up. Half a minute more.

The agent prayed this message would get through. Instructions had been to send as many as was possible without jeopardizing the mission. The transmitter that was to be used was just that - a device for sending Morse signals - not a receiver. There was no way of telling whether the messages that had been sent had been read or not. Until the Stukas had arrived two days before, the agent had begun to think that the transmitter could not be