Evelyn swallowed again, pushing down the feeling of sorrow that threatened her composure and made her throat tight.
“Thank you. I won’t.” She smiled tremulously. “At least, not as badly as I did the other night.”
He nodded again and released her hand, one of his rare smiles crossing his lips as he did so.
She turned and held her hand out to Philip. “Take care of yourself, Philip.”
“And you as well,” he said with a smile. “It was a pleasure to fight by your side. You’re a remarkable woman. God speed you on your way.”
She nodded and released his hand, turning away to look back over the river below them.
“We’ll rest and give you a head start,” Erik said, turning to look out over the water with her. “Remember, if you see any Germans, don’t panic. They’ll think you are a Norwegian. Just continue as normal and don’t draw any attention to yourself.”
Evelyn took a deep breath and nodded. Then she glanced behind her, gave Anna one last smile, and started down the snowy hillside towards the road below. She reached the bottom a few minutes later and turned to look up. All three of her companions were still standing in the trees at the top, watching her. A stab of sorrow went through her and she wondered if they would survive the coming weeks. She knew now how quickly it could all end in a storm of bullets. And if the Germans ever discovered they had been the ones to help her...
She turned away resolutely, tucking her last sight of Anna and her brother away in her mind. There was no way she could ever repay Anna for everything she had done for her, and now she was just as much indebted to her extraordinary brother and his friend, both of whom who had risked the wrath of their battalion to help get her to Namsos safely. They had all risked so much when they didn’t have to. It seemed terrible and heartless to be leaving them to an uncertain future as she went towards safety and freedom. Yet she had no other choice, and she knew both Anna and Erik understood. It was why they had risked so much to get her this far.
Evelyn glanced back over her shoulder a few moments later to find the ridge empty, and a strange feeling of loneliness rolled over her. She was alone.
She shifted the rifle to hang at her side and tightened her grip on her suitcase and toiletries case. The bridge to Namsos was about a quarter mile up the road. She just had to get across and then she could make her way through the town to the docks. The bridge was the only place she would be exposed. There would be nowhere to hide if a truck of SS soldiers came rumbling towards her.
She took a deep breath, forcing herself to calm down. Erik was right. Even if she did come across German soldiers, there was absolutely no reason for them to suspect who she was. She was dressed as a Norwegian, she spoke as a Norwegian, and she had Norwegian papers with a false name, courtesy of Olav Larsen, thank God. She would be fine.
She just had to make it across the bridge.
Chapter Thirty-Three
––––––––
Bialystok, Poland
Vladimir crossed the lobby of his hotel and nodded to the man behind the desk.
“Are there any messages for me?”
The man nodded and turned to pull a sealed telegram out of a cubby hole behind the desk.
“This telegram arrived for you this morning, shortly after you left, Comrade Lyakhov,” he said, handing it to him.
Vladimir nodded and turned to stride towards the stairs. The lift was broken and had been since he arrived, but he didn’t mind taking the stairs to his room on the fourth floor. He had always much preferred the stairs. He felt as if he was trapped in a box when he took the lift.
He went up the steps quickly, one gloved hand on the railing, the clip of his boots echoing off the aging tiled walls. At one time, the hotel had been a respectably furnished, up and coming establishment that catered to those who could afford a little more than the ordinary lodgings. But time, and the coming of another war, had dampened any such aspirations. In another year, the tiled walls would begin to show the wear of neglect, necessitated by the stringent economic policies of the Soviet Union. It was inevitable, and was already beginning if the broken lift was any indication.
Vladimir reached the fourth floor and turned to stride down the long corridor to the last door on the left. A moment later, he was closing the door and tossing his hat onto a chair. He unwound the scarf from his neck and began to pull off his leather gloves.
He’d spent a long morning combing one of the southern neighborhoods of the city, looking for the sailor who had been working with the German SD. Once he found him, he could interrogate him, eliminate him, and then get back to Moscow. And that would be another case closed.
Throwing his gloves onto the chair with his hat, he unbuttoned his coat and shrugged out of it before carrying the telegram over to the small desk in the corner. He sat down and tore it open, scanning it quickly.
AGENT STILL IN COUNTRY. SS CORNERED HER IN STEINKJER BUT FAILED TO DETAIN. WHEREABOUTS UNKNOWN. SHE MAY BE HEADING TO NAMSOS. WILL CONTINUE TO PURSUE LEADS. CONTACT AGAIN SHORTLY.
Vladimir set the telegram down on the desk and tapped it
