'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
