“Erik!” Anna protested weakly. “Can’t you see she’s upset?”
“Yes, of course I can,” he muttered. “But you both need to understand that this isn’t a game. We’re in it until the end now, whether or not we like it, whether or not we want to be, and whether or not we think we can do it. The sooner she realizes that, the sooner you realize that, the better off you’ll both be.”
Evelyn took a deep, ragged breath and felt her hands steady as she stared across the small space at Erik. Everything he said, while cold and harsh, was also true. She had offered to serve her country, and to fight. She had been trained to fire guns with the intent to kill. Sifu had trained her to use her body as a weapon and her hands for the same intent: to kill. MI6 had trained her to detect and silence enemy sentries. All of it, everything she had learned and been trained for, had led her here. This was the path she had chosen that long ago day in a chateau outside of Paris.
“You’re right,” she said after a long moment, her voice cracking. She cleared her throat. “I’m sorry.”
“Never apologize,” he said gruffly after a long moment of staring back at her, “not for being human. Finish reloading that gun and get some sleep. It’s after one in the morning. We continue at eight.”
Steinkjer, Norway
April 13
Eisenjager slowed and pulled to the side of the road, shutting off the engine. Dawn was streaking the sky with gray and purple, casting shadows across the make-shift barrier blocking the road. A soldier in a long coat walked towards his car, a machine gun hanging over his shoulder, while two others watched from a few feet away. They had their hands on their rifles, ready to fire if needed.
“Herr Manfrit Gruber?” he asked, bending slightly to peer into the window.
“Yes.”
Eisenjager pulled out his papers and passed them to the SS soldier. He watched as the young man examined them carefully before passing them back. He clicked his heels together respectfully as he straightened up.
“Hauptsturmführer Beck is waiting for you, Herr Gruber,” he said politely, opening the car door for him. “If you would come with me?”
Eisenjager climbed out from behind the wheel, tucking his papers back into his inside coat pocket. He turned to follow the soldier across the road and into the trees a few yards away.
“The others will watch your car,” the young man said over his shoulder. “This is one of the main roads into Steinkjer, and no one is allowed in or out. It will be quite safe there.”
“I’m really not worried about it,” Eisenjager replied. “Have you secured the town?”
“Yes, but we haven’t gone any further. We’re waiting for additional support.”
Eisenjager raised an eyebrow but said nothing more as he was led through the trees. They walked for some minutes before they came to the edge of what looked like a dried out river bed. Below them in the ravine were several bodies covered with gray blankets, laid out in a row. Black boots covered the uniform trousers to just below the knee.
“Those are our dead,” a deep voice said from the left.
Eisenjager turned to face the tall man walking out of the trees towards them. He had dark hair and pale skin, but his eyes were sharp and keen. They swept over Eisenjager quickly as he approached.
“They killed seven of my men in total,” he continued. “Five here and two back there in the trees.” He jerked his head in the direction he had come from. “And we only got one of them. I am Herr Hauptsturmführer Wilhelm Beck,” he added, holding out a gloved hand. “You must be Herr Gruber.”
“Yes.” Eisenjager gripped his hand.
Beck nodded and looked at the soldier who had escorted him. “You may return to your post.”
The soldier clicked his heels and saluted, then nodded to Eisenjager and turned to make his way back through the trees. Once he was out of earshot, Beck turned back to look at him assessingly.
“Or should I call you Eisenjager?” he asked softly.
“I prefer Herr Gruber at the moment.”
Beck smiled faintly. “Yes, of course. It’s an honor to meet you. I was beginning to believe the rumors were true, and that you were only a myth. It’s reassuring to know that they’re wrong.”
“Why is that?”
“Because we need men like you,” he answered candidly, turning to walk over to the edge of the ravine. He began to make his way down the steep incline into the river bed. “Especially after what happened last night.”
“What did happen last night?” Eisenjager asked, following him.
Beck glanced behind him. “I’m still trying to work that out,” he muttered. He reached the bed and turned to watch as Eisenjager slid the rest of the way down the incline. “As far as I can tell, your British agent was right where you said she’d be.”
Eisenjager stopped at the bottom of the incline, a surge of satisfaction rolling through him.
“She was here?”
“I think so, yes.” Beck turned and led him past the covered bodies and along the ravine. “There were four men and one woman. At least, that is what I’m told. Three of the men had rifles. They’re responsible for that.” He waved his hand to encompass the bodies behind them. “They were outnumbered, out-positioned and out-gunned, yet they still managed to kill seven of my soldiers. We believe they are Norwegian military.”
“And the fourth man?”
Beck motioned ahead. Eisenjager turned to look and saw another body lying alone further down the ravine.
“He shot and killed one more of my men, and severely wounded another in his stomach. I don’t expect the one with the stomach wound to last the day. That will bring the number of dead to nine.”
Eisenjager’s lips tightened and he strode forward, covering the distance to the body quickly with his
