“I will. You don’t need to worry about me.”
Something resembling a smile twisted his lips, softening his harsh countenance once again.
“I’m not worried about you. Not now. Just be sure to shoot straight the first time.”
She made a face. “It was my first time firing this model of rifle!” she protested.
“How’s your shoulder?”
“It hurts like the devil.”
That surprised a bark of laughter out of him.
“Yes. The Krag has a nasty kick until you get used to it. Next time, it won’t hurt as much. You will be prepared for it.” He looked towards the trees as four soldiers burst through, panting. “It’s all right!” he called. “Just some target practice!”
“My God, Salvesen, you could have warned us!” One of them exclaimed. “We thought...”
“It’s my fault,” Evelyn called. “I wanted to try out the rifle and Lt. Salvesen was kind enough to agree. I’m so sorry!”
She gave them her best smile and they all stared at her, then rushed to assure her that it was quite all right and there was nothing to worry about. Erik watched as his men came forward as one, hastening to make themselves agreeable to the blonde woman in their company. He shook his head partly in amusement and partly in disgust before turning away to go to the barn.
“I’ll wake the others. It’s time to get moving,” he said over his shoulder. “Philip and Sal, go and find the others. They were doubling back to make sure we don’t have any Germans following us. We leave as soon you return.”
London, England
The man exited the building and walked down the steps to the sidewalk. He went to the curb and lifted his black umbrella, flagging down a taxi. One slowed and pulled to the curb, stopping before him.
“Whitehall,” he said, getting into the back.
“Aye,” the driver nodded, easing back into traffic.
The man turned his attention out the window, watching as men and women hurried along the pavement. It was early and they were likely hurrying to begin their day, but his day had begun four hours before when he was called into the shabby building on Broadway Street.
He pressed his lips together grimly. The Germans had invaded both Norway and Denmark the day before, demanding that both countries accept the protection of the Reich. Denmark had agreed, but Norway had not. Fools. German troops were rolling over the limited and weak opposition, taking the country anyway. Norway would fall quickly, with a loss of lives that was unnecessary. King Haakon should have surrendered when he was given the chance. Instead, he chose to resist. Hadn’t any of them learned yet that resistance was futile against the might of the Third Reich?
But it wasn’t the invasion that had him frowning thoughtfully. It was the mad scramble that had begun late yesterday afternoon and was still ongoing. MI6 was in a controlled frenzy, undertaking what could only be an extraction from the west coast of Norway. An order had gone out to one of the cruisers accompanying the British troops on their way to assist the Norwegians in repelling the invasion. The cruiser was to evacuate a civilian from Namsos and transport them back to England. Now why would that be considered a priority in the middle of an invasion?
As far as he knew, MI6 had no existing agents in Norway, nor in Denmark. In fact, most of their operatives had been exposed after the Venlo Incident, which was a downright embarrassment. They were still struggling to rebuild the European networks, and he hadn’t heard of any moves to go into Scandinavia. So who were they so interested in getting out of Norway?
The taxi turned a corner and Westminster Abbey loomed on his right. His eyes narrowed as he stared at the landmark without seeing it. There was only one agent that he knew of that had been sent to Oslo: Jian. She would have been trapped when Germany launched their invasion. Oslo fell within six hours, as did all the main port cities. Sweden had closed their borders almost immediately. MI6 had to be trying to get her out.
The man clenched his hand around the handle of his umbrella, his knuckles turning white. He hadn’t been able to find out any information on her since they locked everything down in November. The SD agent, Herr Sturmbannführer Renner, had bungled the whole operation so badly that there was no doubt that the leading powers in Broadway Street were now suspicious of a spy in their midst. Almost immediately, the entire section Jian worked in was classified and closed off from everyone except a very select few. From that day forward, he had had absolutely no idea where she was located. As far he knew, she had simply disappeared.
His grip on the umbrella relaxed slightly. This could be the chance they needed to finally capture the elusive British spy. He could hand the Gestapo their prize virtually gift-wrapped. All they had to do was stop her from making it to Namsos.
He would contact Berlin and alert them to the fact that an evacuation was being planned for Namsos on the 14th. He would offer the possibility of it being Jian, but make it clear that it was by no means certain. If, by some strange chance, it wasn’t her, he didn’t want to endanger his newfound status in Berlin by giving them false information. He had only just managed to get back into their good graces by passing on her codename. He had no intention of falling out of them again.
Chapter Twenty-Three
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Mountains north of Grindal, Norway
Before Erik could reach the door to the barn, Peder loomed into the opening, his hair standing up on top of his head and his shirt half tucked into his trousers. His eyes were wide with excitement and he skidded to a stop when he saw Erik only a
