“If Hitler attacks Norway, what about Sweden?”
“Sweden will remain neutral for as long as possible. They want no part of this war.”
“Neither did Finland, but look at them now. They’ll surrender any day now. They have to.” Evelyn frowned. “Can the Norwegian army withstand a German offensive?”
“Not without us to help them,” he said bluntly. “They would be out-manned and far out-gunned. They haven’t made any attempt to rearm or build up their forces. Their army is strictly a defensive force, and not a very large one. Hitler knows that.”
They were silent for a moment and then Evelyn looked up.
“Could it be a diversion?” she asked. “Could they be moving forces north to make us think they won’t invade the lowlands?”
Bill smiled faintly. “Yes.”
“But you don’t think they are?”
“Who’s to say?” He shrugged and sat forward again. “That’s for London to decide. We did our job. What they do with the information is up to them. How did you find Josephine? Is she well?”
“Yes, she appears to be. We had lunch in a café before I left.”
Bill’s eyes met hers. “And did she arrange to stay in contact?”
Evelyn smiled. “Yes. Just as you predicted. How did you know?”
“The French aren’t stupid. They know that if Germany invades and the battle is lost, they will lose their intelligence network. Agents like Josephine will want to ensure that they have another way of getting information out.”
“I gave her the drop address in Paris, just as you said. If she needs to contact me, she’ll arrange for a message to go to that address.”
“Good.” Bill looked at his watch. “It’s getting late. Your mother will be wondering where you are.”
Evelyn laughed and stood up, accepting her dismissal with good grace.
“I doubt that. She and my aunts have gone to the theatre. I’m meeting Nicolas and Gisele for dinner, though, so I have to be on my way.” She turned towards the door, then paused and looked back over her shoulder. “Am I still returning to England on Friday?”
“Yes. Enjoy the rest of your time in Paris. I know you love it here.”
Evelyn smiled. “I do, and I will.”
She left the office and made her way through the embassy to the entrance. Her smile faded as she stepped out onto the Rue du Faubourg Saint-Honoré and turned to walk along the busy thoroughfare. The tension was palpable in the embassy and with Bill. They knew Hitler would move, and move soon. When he did, his Blitzkrieg, or Lightning War, would sweep across Europe. Paris would become dangerous, and Nicolas and Gisele would have to decide what they were going to do, as would her Aunt and Uncle.
Evelyn pressed her lips together as a chill went through her. She had a terrible feeling that, very soon, everything was going to change drastically, and she suddenly wanted nothing more than to enjoy her last few days in Paris with her family. She may not have the opportunity again for a very long time.
And when it was all over, the Paris she loved may be irreversibly changed, or gone forever.
Chapter Six
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Liège, Belgium
Obersturmbannführer Hans Voss squinted against the sun and peered up at the cathedral before him. Of all the places in the city that he could meet with his informant, they had to pick a church. He hated the places and avoided them whenever possible. They filled him with a kind of dread, a throwback to his youth when his father would drag him by his ear every Sunday to listen to an old man expound upon the hopelessness and evils of humanity. That same old man was later caught raping a four-year-old girl in the woods. As far as Hans was concerned, the clergy could keep their hypocrisy. He would take his chances with the afterlife after living this life as he saw fit. And that did not include attending services on Sunday.
He started up the steps to the entrance of the sprawling example of Gothic architecture. He had come to the city on other business, intending only to stay for two days. Upon hearing of his arrival, however, Mira had contacted him to arrange this meeting. He agreed when he saw the last word in her message: Rätsel.
The mysterious Englishwoman had got under his skin. He freely admitted that. Twenty minutes in her company had been enough to convince him that she was intriguing. The subsequent weeks and months that followed had proven that she was also dangerous. The Maggie Richardson he met in Strasbourg had passed all the background checks that the SS had issued, except one. The woman he spoke with outside a café in Strasbourg claimed to have family in Berlin. The Margaret Richardson employed by the Daily Mail had no relations in Germany at all.
It was a small thing, overlooked by the British Security Service, but it was enough to convince them that she was a British agent. When Karl Gerst, the German traitor she’d been meeting with that day, disappeared less than twenty-four hours after crossing back into Germany, it only strengthened their suspicions. While they had been busy confirming the Englishwoman’s story, Karl managed to slip away and, to date, still hadn’t been found. They had been played by a pretty, young blonde.
Hans Voss did not take kindly to that at all.
He strode into the church, the sun disappearing as the heavy door swung closed. The dim gloom of the sanctuary engulfed him as he scanned the rows of empty pews
