His work here was finished.
Evelyn looked up, startled, when the door to the small hut opened without warning. She had been sitting near the wood stove for over an hour now, alternating between dozing and fretting over whether or not the Lt. Commander had already weighed anchor and was gone. The thought of going back out there and trying to find another way home filled her with hopeless despair, and so she continued to sit in the little hut, hoping that HMS Cardiff was still there.
Now, as she stared up at an officer of medium height with black hair graying at the temples, she knew her wait was over. He looked at her briefly, then closed the door to the hut before crossing over to stand in front of the desk.
“Miss Masters?” he asked. “Miss Jenny Masters?”
Evelyn nodded, relief rolling through her. The name on the passport she had handed the guard was Laura Masters. Jenny was never mentioned on the papers, but was the codename that went with the identification. The only way this man could possibly know that name was if MI6 had told him.
“Yes.”
His face relaxed into a smile. “I’m very pleased to meet you. I’m Lieutenant Commander Wheeler. You’ve had us on pins and needles all morning, wondering if you were going to make it in time.”
“I’m terribly sorry about that,” she said with a small smile. “I lost my radio operator, you see. I had no way of contacting London.”
A shadow crossed his face and his eyes met hers, surprisingly kindly for a complete stranger.
“I’m sorry to hear that. Well, at least you’re here now. You’ve come just in the nick of time, as well. The captain’s ready to give the order to weigh anchor. I’m to get you aboard without delay. He’s anxious to be underway, as I’m sure you are as well.”
She nodded tiredly. “Yes, indeed, thank you. There is just one thing, a small matter of my rifle. I believe it’s being held at the gate.”
Wheeler was betrayed into a grin.
“Ah yes, the infamous rifle. I’m told you walked up with it slung over your shoulder. Gave the boys at the entrance quite a turn.”
“I’m afraid I look a fright,” Evelyn admitted with a laugh. “I don’t blame them for being leery of me. I’ve been walking through the mountains for four and a half days. Fashion took second place to practicality, you see.”
The Lt. Commander stared at her. “Four and a half days?” he repeated, stunned. “There’s four feet of snow out there!”
She nodded. “Yes. I’m well aware.”
“Where did you come from?”
“Oslo.”
“Oslo! But they took Oslo on Tuesday!”
“Yes. I left a few hours before they arrived in the city. I’ve been moving ever since.”
“How on earth did you do it? The Nazis are advancing everywhere and have taken control of all the airfields. How did you avoid them?”
“I had a very good guide who knows the terrain well, and I had a companion who knew the importance of getting me here in time to catch your ship.”
Wheeler shook his head and straightened up, bending to pick up her suitcase.
“My dear girl, you may have your rifle back with my compliments. I’ll have Lieutenant Barker ensure it is delivered to the ship immediately. You’ve earned the right to carry whatever weapon you desire as far as I’m concerned.”
He smiled down at her and, despite herself, Evelyn felt her eyes fill with tears at his kind tone that reminded her so forcibly of Bill and her father.
“Come. Let’s get you aboard ship and settled,” he said gently, seeing the tears shimmering in her eyes. “It’s time to go home.”
Bialystok, Poland
Vladimir looked up when a knock fell on his door and a sealed telegram slid under the gap along the floor. Raising his eyebrow, he crossed the room to pick it up. There was no noise in the corridor, but he opened the door and looked out anyway. He was just in time to see a hotel uniform disappear around the corner at the end of the hall.
Closing the door, he locked it again and turned to carry the telegram over to the desk. He had been pouring over maps of the city, looking for a particular street that had been mentioned during his manhunt. Pushing the maps aside, he tore open the telegram, reading it quickly.
MISSION COMPLETED. SHORES ARE CLEAR. DEPARTING NAMSOS FOR OSLO.
A slow smile curved his lips and he tossed the telegram onto the desk. Evelyn was on her way home. She had made it.
He got up and went to the window, pulling the curtain back and looking out over the dark city below. He’d known Mikhail would find her. Even in the midst of an invasion, the man could find anything, or anyone. Even so, Vladimir was conscious of a feeling of relief. Eisenjager had complicated things, causing some worry, but now it was over, and Robert Ainsworth’s daughter was on her way home.
Now that she was safely away from the Nazi invasion in Norway, his own plans could proceed. He stared out the window, his lips pressed together thoughtfully. The message he’d sent for MI6 to intercept earlier would get the ball rolling. He had no doubt of that. They wouldn’t have a choice, not if they wanted to continue to receive the information he was passing on to them. And, given their present situation with a mole in their midst, they wouldn’t have much basis to argue.
Yes. Things were progressing nicely in that quarter, now that the little hiccup with Evelyn had been resolved.
Vladimir dropped the curtain and turned to return to the desk. It was time to get back to work. The sooner he tracked down his target, the sooner he could leave Poland and focus on the British agent.
The
