The Oslo Affair (Shadows of War, #2)

by CW Browning

  “Yes, it was.” She walked over to a chair and sank down, motioning him into a seat. “We’re still adjusting, I think. Do you fly Spitfires as well?”

  “Yes.” Miles seated himself in the chair opposite. “Rob and I are in the same squadron.”

  “And do you love flying as much as he does?” she asked with a grin. “It’s all Robbie could talk about when he joined up.”

  Miles shrugged and smiled nonchalantly, but she saw the gleam that entered his eyes. Oh yes. He loved flying.

  “I suppose I do,” he admitted. “There’s nothing quite like it. And you? I seem to remember Rob saying you’re in the WAAFs?”

  “That’s right.”

  He was looking at her with a smile in his eyes, and she felt her lips curving in response.

  “Good for you. If you girls give a good show, you’ll be a lot of help.” He tilted his head to study her. “Where’s your station?”

  “I’m posted in Scotland.”

  Miles gave an exaggerated grimace. “I’m terribly sorry!”

  She laughed. “It’s quite all right. I’ve got used to it.”

  “I went up to Turnhouse for training in the spring. I was glad to come away at the end of it. The training officer was an absolute tartar. I felt sure I was going to get run through with a sword if I missed something.”

  “I haven’t seen one sword,” she assured him. “Although, I’ve heard that one of the CO’s has an axe in his office.”

  “Who has an axe in his office?” Rob spoke behind her and she turned in her chair with a laugh.

  “One of the COs on my station.”

  “Tread carefully, then. Don’t let him hear your sass,” Rob said with a grin. He looked across the room at Miles and walked forward with his hand out. “Miles! What are you doing here? Did you desert?”

  Miles stood up and gripped his hand with a laugh.

  “Hardly, old man. I’ve been sent up to Catterick to pick up a kite. Ashmore asked me to stop by and bring you something from the station. It’s in the car outside.”

  “Have you been waiting long?”

  “Not at all. Your sister’s been keeping me company.”

  “Well, stay for a drink. You’ve missed lunch, I’m afraid, but there’s an excellent brandy I can offer you.”

  “I stopped for a bite at a pub on my way, but I’ll take some brandy if it’s going.”

  “Of course! Come into the study.” Rob turned towards the door. “Are you coming, Evie?”

  Evelyn stood up with a smile.

  “I’m not, dearest. I’m off to check on Mother and then I’m going to hide in peace somewhere for a few minutes.” She looked at Miles. “Not that it wasn’t wonderful meeting you, Mr. Lacey,” she added. “I hope you don’t mind. I’ll join you another time for a drink.”

  His eyes met hers and he smiled.

  “Not at all. I’m sure you’re just about fed up with visitors,” he said, holding out his hand. “I’ll hold you to that drink though, Miss Ainsworth.”

  She took his hand with a smile and felt his long fingers close around hers.

  “Please call my Evelyn.”

  “Only if you’ll call me Miles.”

  “Very well,” she agreed, pulling her hand away. “I’ll look forward to that drink.”

  “As will I,” he murmured, watching her as she left.

  Rob shook his head and clapped Miles on the shoulder as soon as Evelyn had disappeared out the door.

  “Don’t get your hopes up, old man,” he advised with a grin. “It’ll never happen.”

  Miles looked at him.

  “Are you really going to play the defensive big brother?” he demanded.

  “Good Lord, no! She can defend herself without any help from me.” Rob led him out of the drawing room and down the corridor towards the study. “But many have come before you and crashed in flames. I’d hate to see you go down burning.”

  “You’ve seen me fly,” Miles said with a grin. “I’ll take my chances.”

  Chapter Three

  ––––––––

  Evelyn looked up as a woman dressed in a smart, gray suit with a silk blouse came across the small waiting area.

  “Miss Ainsworth?”

  Evelyn stood up. “Yes.”

  The woman swept an assessing look over her before her sharp gaze settled on her face.

  “I’ll escort you to Montclair’s office. Did you receive a visitors pass?”

  Evelyn held it out and the woman looked at it cursorily. Even though the glance was brief, Evelyn got the distinct impression that she had examined it thoroughly.

  “Right. Follow me.”

  She spun on her heel and Evelyn followed, her lips tightening faintly in irritation. She had no idea who the woman was or why she was being so abrupt with her. She was here because of a borderline command from William Buckley, but this woman seemed to think they were doing her a favor by allowing her into the shabby, nondescript building situated on Broadway, near St. James Park Underground. Although it was only a few blocks from Westminster, the neighborhood had absolutely nothing to recommend itself, much less the building. She had stood on the pavement with the business card in her hand for a moment, staring at the number above the door and wondering if she had somehow got it wrong.

  Following the woman down the corridor, Evelyn glanced at her watch. She was a few minutes late, due solely to the fact that the young man at the desk had taken an inordinately long time to process her visitor’s pass from the military ID she’d shown him. Perhaps that’s why this woman was so cold. Perhaps she disapproved of tardiness.

  They reached the end of the corridor and went up a flight of stairs. A man in uniform stood at the top and, as they approached, he moved forward. The woman held up an identity card and he nodded before turning his attention to Evelyn. She held out her pass and he took it, examining it carefully before raising his eyes to her face. After studying her for a moment, he nodded.

  “Thank you,” he said, passing it back.

  She nodded and followed the woman down another long corridor lined on either side with closed doors. At the end of the hallway, she opened the last door on the left and motioned her inside.

  Evelyn walked through and found herself in a large, well-appointed office with a polished mahogany desk set between two narrow windows flanked with blackout curtains. As she entered, Jasper Montclair rose from his seat behind the desk, a welcoming smile creasing his face. Bill turned in the chair before the desk and also stood as she entered. She smiled, surprised to see him there.

  “Ah, Miss Ainsworth!” Jasper exclaimed, coming out from behind the desk and advancing towards her. “I’m glad you were able to come.”

  Evelyn smiled and held out her hand. “Of course.”

  “You know William Buckley, of course,” he said, releasing her hand and nodding towards Bill.

  “Yes.” Evelyn smiled and nodded to him. “It’s good to see you again.”

  “I trust you had an uneventful trip down?” Bill asked with a smile. “Did you take the train in?”

  “No, actually. I drove down with my brother. He has some business to take care of with our solicitor before he rejoins his squadron.”

  “Oh yes. He’s a pilot in 66 squadron, stationed at Duxford, isn’t he?” Jasper asked, motioning her to the other chair before the desk. “Please, have a seat.”

  Evelyn thanked him and sank down into the chair opposite Bill. Once she had, the other two took their seats.

  “And how are you and your family doing? Is there anything you need?” Jasper asked, sitting back in his chair behind the desk. “I know this must be a difficult time.”

  “Thank you. It is, but we will be fine.”

  “I knew your father well. He was a great man.” Jasper shook his head sadly. “He spoke very highly of you. I wish we didn’t have to meet for the first time und
er these circumstances.”

  Evelyn looked from one man to the other.

  “With all due respect,” she said slowly, “why are we meeting today?”

  Jasper glanced at Bill with a faint smile.

  “You were right,” he said dryly. “She isn’t much for chit-chat.”

  “No, she isn’t,” Evelyn said a bit more sharply than she intended. “Not when I’ve come some distance to a meeting with a man who says he worked with my father, but whom I’d never heard of it until yesterday.”

  To her surprise, Jasper chuckled.

  “Quite right, my dear. My apologies for that.” He opened a drawer and pulled out a folder, setting it on the desk before him. “I understand you’ve been training in Scotland? Bill here has only good things to say about your progress.”

  Evelyn looked at Bill, startled, and he nodded reassuringly.

  “It’s quite all right,” he told her. “Jasper knows everything.”

  “Yes, yes, I know all about you,” Jasper said, glancing up from the folder before him. “Do you really speak seven languages fluently?”

  “Yes.”

  “And they are?”

  “French, German, Italian, Cantonese, Spanish, Portuguese and Russian.” Evelyn smiled faintly. “Although, I’m fairly certain they’re probably listed in that folder.”

  Another chuckle emanated from Jasper. “Yes, they are. It’s quite an impressive list. Are there any others in which you are not fluent?”

  “I’m learning Japanese, but it’s very slow. I haven’t had much time lately to concentrate on it as I’d like,” she admitted.

  Jasper looked at Bill.

  “She’s learning Japanese,” he said dryly. “Just as casual as you please. As if the Cantonese and Russian weren’t enough.”

  Bill grinned. “I did tell you she was something special.”

  “You know, your father told me you were very talented, but I’m afraid I wrote it off as the doting of a fond parent. It seems he wasn’t exaggerating.” Jaspers shook his head and bent it back over the folder on the desk. “I see here that you’ve almost finished the MI6 training. High scores all around. Good.” He looked up sharply. “How about Norwegian? Do you speak that at all?”

  Evelyn shook her head. “I’m afraid not.”

  “Pity.”

  He went back to the file and continued reading, falling silent. Evelyn looked at Bill with a frown and he shrugged. He was either as much in the dark is she was regarding why they were here, or he was content to allow Jasper to get to it in his own good time. What on earth was she doing here? That Jasper Montclair was someone fairly high up in the MI6 organization was clear, especially given Bill’s deference to him, but who was he, exactly? And what did he want with her? And why did she have to come the day immediately following her father’s funeral?

  The questions were still rolling through her mind when he looked up a few moments later.

  “Well, I suppose you’re wondering what this is all about,” he said, sitting back in his chair. “Tell me what you know about your father’s work.”

  Evelyn stared at him.

  “Not much,” she finally said. “I know he worked with the foreign office, and they relied on him to maintain precarious relationships between ambassadors and foreign dignitaries.”

  “And when he unfortunately passed away?”

  Evelyn flinched. “We were told he had a massive heart attack, most likely brought on from the stress of fleeing Poland ahead of the Germans. He died in his hotel room in Bern.”

  “And that’s all you know?”

  “That’s it, I’m afraid. Dad was very close about his work and rarely spoke about it. The circumstances of his death were no different. We were told only what someone determined we should be told.”

  “You sound as if you question the cause of your father’s death,” Jasper stated rather than asked. “Do you doubt that he had a heart attack?”

  Evelyn shook her head. “No. As far as I can understand, the medical report was conclusive. What has me confused is that he was at the Bellevue Palace Hotel, in Bern. But when I saw him in London before his trip, he told me he would be staying in Zürich. I’m not sure why he would have changed cities, but I suppose he had his reasons.”

  “And what did he tell you about this last trip?”

  She frowned.

  “Only that he was going to Warsaw for a few days. He mentioned the possibility of stopping in Vienna on his way back, but he was unsure if that would be possible. Of course, then Hitler decided to invade Poland, making a stop in Vienna impossible.”

  “Tell me, did Robert ever mention to you what the purpose of these trips were?”

  “Never. As I said, he rarely spoke about his work.”

  Jasper studied her pensively for a moment, then glanced at Bill. As if coming to a decision, he nodded and sat forward in his seat.

  “What I’m going to say cannot leave this room. The moment you walked through that door, you became bound by the Official Secrets Act. Do you understand?”

  “Yes.”

  “Good. You’re mostly correct about your father. Robert was invaluable to the foreign office. However, what you don’t know, is that he was also invaluable to us. His loss is a great blow to MI6. He had made contacts all over Europe and in the Far East, and was able to funnel an inordinately large amount of information to us through them.”

  Evelyn felt as though the floor was dropping out from under her and she gripped the arms of her chair as she stared speechlessly at Jasper. He stared back stoically, waiting for her to respond.

  “I...I don’t understand,” she stammered, glancing at Bill in confusion. “My father worked for MI6? But...that’s impossible!”

  “Why do you think it’s impossible?” Jasper asked. “Haven’t you been in a training course with us for the past six months? Why would you think it was impossible for your father to do the same?”

  “Well, to begin with, because he was my father!” Evelyn exclaimed. “I mean, that’s not something one thinks of when one thinks of their father. He was a family man, and one of the most forthcoming and honest men I’ve ever known. Why, we would have known!”

  “Would you?” Bill asked softly. “He didn’t have any idea that you were working for me. Does your brother know? Your mother? You’ve managed to hide your association with me and with MI6 from your family for over a year now. What makes you think your father wouldn’t do the same?”

  Evelyn stared at him, her mind spinning. He was right of course. For her to think that they would have known anything about their father if he didn’t want them to was absurd. But a spy? Her father?

  Suddenly, a whole new rash of questions began to fill her mind. If he had been gathering intelligence for MI6, who were his contacts? How many of them could be trusted? He was in Poland when the German army invaded. Was that intentional? Had one of his contacts cleverly planned that?

  “I can see you’re starting to realize the complexity of Robert’s death,” Jasper said, watching her face. “Before you get too carried away, let me make one thing very clear. Robert’s trip to Warsaw was arranged by the foreign office, no one else. It’s just bad luck that that’s when Hitler decided to invade.”

  Evelyn looked at him, her cheeks flushing. “How did you know —”

  “My dear, it was written all over your face,” he replied. “You’ll have to learn to guard your expressions much more carefully.”

  She swallowed and rubbed a hand across her forehead.

  “I’m sorry. It’s just such a shock.”

  “Believe it or not, I do understand.” Jasper’s voice softened and he stood up, moving to a tall wooden cabinet on the side wall. “To learn that someone you’ve known all your life wasn’t exactly what you thought they were is never an easy thing.”

  He opened the cabinet to reveal a shelf with a variety of bottles and glasses. Lif
ting a decanter with a light amber liquid inside, he poured two fingers into a glass and turned to carry it over to her.

  “Here. Have some brandy. It’ll help.”

  Evelyn took the glass thankfully. It was a superior brandy indeed, and as it burned a path down her throat, she felt herself begin to relax.

  “Evie, you mustn’t think that Robert didn’t want to tell you,” Bill said slowly. “While he didn’t know that you were working for me, I think he began to suspect in the spring that you were involved with something. He remarked to me once that he wouldn’t be at all surprised if you were recruited because of your linguistic skills, and he wished he could advise you and tell you what he’d been doing for the past few years. I think it troubled him greatly that he couldn’t tell anyone.”

  “You don’t have to explain. I understand,” Evelyn said. “For the same reason my brother has no idea that I’m not really a bona fide WAAF, Dad had to keep this from me. From us all.”

  “Precisely.” Jasper went back to his seat behind the desk. “No one must ever know, not about your father and most definitely not about you. Especially now, it’s far too dangerous.”

  “Why have you told me?” Evelyn asked, looking up from her glass of brandy. “Why tell me this now?”

  Jasper and Bill shared a look and the silence was almost deafening. Evelyn looked from one to the other with a growing sense of apprehension.

  “While your father was in Poland, he met with one of his regular contacts. It’s a man who’s been feeding us a steady stream of reliable intelligence over the course of the past three years,” Jasper began. “For the first two years, he was known as Shustov.”

  “A Russian?” Evelyn asked, startled.

  “Yes. Last year, he finally agreed to allow your father to share his true identity with us, on condition that it not be revealed in any official documents. His name is Vladimir Lyakhov, and he’s an NVKD agent. The information he’s been able to pass us about Moscow has been invaluable. Vladimir made contact shortly before Robert went to Poland, saying that he had urgent intelligence that he had to get out of Russia as soon as possible. Robert arranged to meet him in Warsaw while he was there. As far as we know, Vladimir gave him the information before your father fled the German invasion.”