The Odin Mission

by James Holland

  The flame gave only a little light, but it was enough to show a row of animal stalls in front of them. Nearly burning his fingers, he pinched out the match, lit another and walked slowly along the stalls.

  The match died and he lit a third. As the flare subsided, he reached the last stall and there, asleep on a pile of hay, was the mystery person.

  'Miss!' said Tanner.

  She woke with a start. 'Sergeant,' she said, blinking, 'what's the matter?' She sat up, propping herself on her elbows.

  'We heard someone leave the house,' said Tanner. Suddenly he felt rather foolish. 'We weren't sure who it was . . .' Sykes lit another match. There wasnothing beside her: no rucksack, and certainly no radio.

  'I'm sorry,' she said. 'It was the lieutenant. He was drunk.'

  'What did the bastard do?'

  'Nothing, really.' She made to stand up and Tanner stepped forward to offer her a hand. 'He - well, he was drunk and making a nuisance of himself.' She smiled uncertainly at Tanner, then took his hand. Her fingers were cold, but gripped his tightly. 'I didn't want to make a scene.' The match went out again, but her hand stayed in his.

  'I'm sorry,' she said. 'I didn't mean to alarm you. I just thought it would be quiet out here. Although, actually, I should have known there would be rats.'

  With his heart still hammering, but now for a different reason, he said, 'It would be safer if you came back inside, you know. If anything should happen ...'

  'Don't worry, Miss,' said Sykes. 'I'm sure the lieutenant will be sound asleep by now.'

  'Yes, of course,' she said. 'I understand.'

  Back outside the barn, Tanner turned his watch to the light of the moon. 'Just gone one,' he said. 'Stan, you and Tinker are on until half past, then get Mac and Kershaw out for an hour and they can get me again. I'll get Chevannes' man, Derigaux, to join me. We want to be away by half three. All right?'

  'Got it, Sarge.'

  'Night, Sarge,' added Bell. 'And night, Miss.'

  Tanner led Anna back into a silent and sleeping house. 'In here,' he whispered, showing her to the office. McAllister and Kershaw were still asleep on the floor, their slow, rhythmic breathing clearly audible in the close atmosphere of the room. In the dark, he bumped into her, apologized, then whispered, 'Over here.' Having found his pack and wind jacket, he crouched and heard her settle next to him. 'Would you like my jacket?' he asked.

  'No, no - I'm fine. Thank you. I've got my own.'

  'Try to get back to sleep, then,' he said. He closed his eyes, then felt her hand stretch out and take his, squeezing it. Was she genuine, or playing a part? To hell with it, he thought. In less than two hours he had to be awake again. For now, the soft warmth of her touch was a much- needed comfort.

  He had been in a deep sleep when McAllister woke him but this time was alert in an instant. Deciding to let Derigaux be, he went out to watch the road alone. Not for the first time since arriving in Norway ten days before, he watched the dawn rise, creeping over the mountains to the east and sweeping over the narrow valley, bathing it in a rich golden light.

  Soon after three, he hurried back into the house, woke Sykes and ordered him out to watch the road, then stoked the fire and roused Anna. 'I need your help,' he said. 'Can you heat some more tins of stew for me?'

  She nodded sleepily.

  'Are you all right?' he asked, as she stretched and yawned.

  'Yes, I think so. This is harder than I thought it would be. I am used to tramping over the mountains, but I had not realized we would get so little sleep.'

  He smiled, and touched her cheek lightly. 'It's an occupational hazard, I'm afraid.'

  'I know.' She looked up at him. 'Jack - do you think we'll make it?'

  'Of course. We have to.' He smiled again, then went to wake the others.

  One by one, the men stumbled into the kitchen, stretching and yawning. Chevannes was the last to appear, eyes narrow and puffy, cracked lips stained with wine. Tanner chuckled to himself, then noticed Sandvold standing alone in a corner, rocking gently, eyes glazed. 'Professor?' he asked.

  Sandvold jumped.

  'How are you feeling? How are the legs?' Tanner asked.

  'My legs - well, they are still here. I feel my age, Sergeant. How far do you think we must go today?'

  'Perhaps a dozen miles - seventeen kilometres.'

  Sandvold nodded gloomily. 'We still have such a long way to go.' He paused, then said, 'Ignore me. I have these moments of depression.'

  While the others ate the remaining tins of Maconochie's, Tanner spread Anna's map on the stone floor. 'Anna,' he said, 'do you know this stretch of mountains?'

  'I know Bringsfjellet. It's the peak above Vagamo, and I've been to the town before.'

  'Good, but what about here?' He pointed to a narrow, steep-sided valley that ran north from Heidel.

  'No,' she admitted. 'I've not been up there.'

  'Do you think it will be wooded?'

  'Almost certainly.'

  'And it looks as though there's a track through it. What's more, it's mostly south-west facing so with luck there won't be much snow.' He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. 'I think we should head down there.'

  'Excuse me interrupting,' said Chevannes, his voice laden with sarcasm, 'but it is not up to you, Sergeant, to decide.' He leant over, stale wine fumes heavy on his breath, and snatched the map. He examined it briefly, then said, 'We should find some transport. The men are still exhausted. I have noticed that the welfare of yours is not of paramount concern to you, Sergeant.'

  Tanner took a deep breath. 'I agree that if we see something we should take it, but I don't think we should waste time looking for it. It's no more than a day's march to Vagamo where we'd have to ditch any M/T we had anyway.'

  'And the fact that the men are exhausted?' said Chevannes. 'We should find a vehicle.'

  'We need to get going while it's still safe, sir. We're by a main valley road, and it's not long before Jerry will be down here. I've had a look at the sky. It was clear three- quarters of an hour ago, but the cloud's building and it looks like rain. We need to get away and under the cover of the forest as soon as possible. We can rest up later. Better to do so where we can post proper sentries and prepare a decent escape route. We should aim to get to the mountains above Vagamo. Anna knows those peaks.'

  'There are good views of the river Otta, the VSgavnet lake and the town from the Bringsfjellet,' added Anna.

  'So from there,' Tanner continued, 'we can look down on the town. It may even be that we'll get there before the Germans do, in which case we'll be fine. If not, we can work out how to join the road north of the town. I agree, we will need some M/T then, but we don't have time to look for transport now.'

  'The track we take this morning should be fairly easy going,' said Anna.

  Chevannes turned sharply to face her. 'Oh, I see,' he said. 'You two, you have - how shall I put this? - a little understanding. It seems as though you have it all planned.'

  Tanner reddened.

  'That is charming,' continued Chevannes, 'but, Sergeant, you must not let your feelings for Miss Rostad cloud your judgement.'

  Something inside Tanner snapped. He prided himself on being able to keep a cool, calm head, no matter how testing the circumstances, but at several moments in his life uncontrollable rage had got the better of him. He had reached one such moment now.

  Without further thought he clenched his fist and swung his right arm at Chevannes. The movement was so quick, and executed with such lightning precision, that the Frenchman had no time to react. The force of the punch knocked him backwards in an unconscious heap against McAllister and Bell, who caught him clumsily, thus saving him from further injury.

  For a moment, no one said a word.

  Damn, damn, damn, thought Tanner.

  'Sergeant,' said Larsen, eventually. His face showed incredulity. 'What did you think you were doing?'

  'He pushed me too far.' He glared at the Norwegian.

  Hoisted upright by the two
Rangers, Chevannes groaned, then came round. Blinking wildly, he suddenly focused on his assailant. 'Tanner,' he hissed, 'you struck an officer!'

  'You insulted me and Miss Rostad, sir.'

  'You struck an officer,' Chevannes repeated. 'I have never seen anything so disgraceful in my life.'

  'Jesus Christ,' muttered Tanner.

  'You had better apologize, Sergeant,' said Larsen.

  'For God's sake,' said Tanner. He wasn't sure how to react. You bloody fool, he thought.

  'Sergeant, it would be better if you just apologized,' said Larsen again, his voice firm and measured.

  'You most certainly will apologize, Sergeant!' shouted Chevannes. 'Now!'

  Tanner sighed, then said to Chevannes, 'Sir, I apologize for hitting you. And now can we get the hell out of here?'

  'Just a minute,' said Chevannes, cheek muscles twitching with anger, 'don't think that's the end of it, because when we get back to our lines, Sergeant, I'm going to report you, and you will be court-martialled. I'm going to make sure your career is finished for what you have just done.'

  'Enough!'

  The Professor had stepped forward. 'Enough of this,' he said again. 'Lieutenant - please. Ask everyone to wait outside. You, Sergeant, and you, Henrik Larsen and Nielssen, stay here.'

  Chevannes was plainly surprised by the professor's intervention. 'Yes, all right,' he said. 'Everyone-out. Now!'

  'Listen to me,' said Sandvold, once the men had gone and the door had closed. 'I'm not interested in your petty squabbles and, with the greatest respect, no one else is either. What I am interested in is successfully reaching the Allies, and it is your task to help me. If you want to bring charges against the sergeant once this is over, that is up to you, but for now you must put aside your differences, because if I may say so, Lieutenant, your desire to undermine Sergeant Tanner is, to my mind, undermining our chances.'

  Tanner smiled to himself. Good lad, he thought.

  'Now, Sergeant Tanner has clearly studied the land carefully and it strikes me his plan is the right one.'

  Chevannes sniffed. 'And with the greatest respect to you, Professor,' he said slowly, 'you are not a military man. You should be leaving any such decisions to me.'

  'No,' said Sandvold. 'I am not under your orders, Lieutenant. I am a civilian. I have already been dragged from my home and I have come this far without complaint or protest, partly because His Majesty the King has requested that I do so, and also because I have no desire to become a prisoner of the Germans. Sergeant Tanner is surely right. We must stop bickering and leave now.'

  Chevannes was silent, then glanced at Larsen and Nielssen, hoping for support, but found none.

  'Maybe there's something in what he says,' said Nielssen.

  Chevannes clenched his fists, then smacked his right hand hard and flat against the wall. 'Very well,' he said stiffly. 'We leave now.'

  Chapter 18

  Reichsamtsleiter Scheidt could hardly believe it was only six days since he had last stood in this corridor at the Bristol Hotel; somehow, it seemed like a lifetime ago. As he waited to see the Reichskommissar, he bit his fingernails and paced uneasily. Coming back to Oslo was a gamble - a horrible one - and he was uncertain how Terboven would react. By the door, the two SS guards stared ahead implacably, unmoved by Scheldt's agitation.

  At last the door opened and an Allgemeine-SS officer in a pale grey uniform appeared and ushered him into the same top-floor suite where he and Quisling had first seen Terboven, then discreetly slipped away.

  Although it was now morning, the room was still one of refined and subtle light. The Reichskommisar, behind his desk, was every bit as immaculate, not a hair out of place, his face smooth as glass. Already Scheidt felt inferior. He had driven through much of the night to reach the city. His suit was now creased, he had not shaved in eighteen hours and his right eyelid was

  flickering with fatigue. Damn you, thought Scheidt.

  Terboven was writing at his desk and did not look up as Scheidt entered and stood before him. At one point, he paused, glanced at the wall to his right, apparently deep in thought, then continued scribbling. The silence in the room was so complete that Scheidt could hear the nib scratching the paper.

  It was an old trick to impose oneself and one's authority by keeping a subordinate waiting in agonizing silence. Nonetheless, Scheidt reflected, it was still an effective one. The bastard. He could feel the greasy sweat on his palms. A further minute or more passed, then Terboven stopped writing, carefully replaced the lid of his pen, laid it on his desk and said, with a hint of a smile, 'Ah, Reichsamtsleiter Scheidt - you are the bearer of good news, I hope?'

  Scheidt's heart sank, but he looked Terboven directly in the eye. 'No, I'm afraid not.'

  Terboven leant back in his chair, fingers together, and raised an eyebrow. Oh yes?

  'We have located Odin several times and have been within a hair's breadth of capturing him but, alas, he has always eluded us.'

  'You had my authority to use whatever troops you needed. How can this be possible?'

  'General Engelbrecht has had his hands tied fighting the British and Norwegians. The most he could spare was a reconnaissance company of Gebirgsjager. These troops were lightly armed and met stiff resistance from a mixed company of British and French troops who have joined Odin and his Norwegian guardians. Killing them all has not been the difficulty; killing them and rescuing

  Odin unscathed has, however, proved more challenging.'

  Terboven nodded. 'And what about your "source"?'

  'The information has been crucial, but sporadic. It is the nature of intelligence.'

  Terboven leant towards his desk calendar. 'You have until tomorrow, Herr Reichsamtsleiter, until our deal is over. I don't mind telling you I'm rather surprised to see you here. I'd have thought that in the circumstances your time could have been used more profitably.'

  'I'd like your help, Herr Reichskommissar.' He said it flatly and, he hoped, without any trace of panic or fear.

  'I thought I'd already given you that.'

  'You have, Herr Reichskommissar, but I'm here to ask you to speak with General Engelbrecht. The company of Gebirgsjager that he gave us - well, they have suffered heavy casualties over the past few days. Yet he refuses to give us more troops or equipment. I showed him your letter, but he insisted he had no more men to spare.'

  'He has a battle to fight.'

  'A battle he has all but won. His forces far outweigh those of the enemy. He can readily spare some men and equipment.'

  Terboven brought his hands to his chin, and pursed his lips. 'My difficulty, Herr Reichsamtsleiter, is this. You are asking me to order a general in the field to redirect some of his forces at a time when he is engaged in heavy fighting - albeit a battle he is winning - but without my being able to give him much reason. Now, yes, I am Reichskommissar here, but there is nothing to stop General Engelbrecht from contacting the OKW in Berlin and complaining vociferously about such interfering.

  When the OKW demands an explanation, I will have to tell them that I can't give them one but that Reichsamtsleiter Scheidt has assured me these troops are needed for a very good yet unspecified cause. "Yes, my Fiihrer," I will say, "Reichsamtsleiter Scheidt did work with Brauer, the disgraced ambassador."' He smiled. 'So you see, Scheidt, I think the time has come to stop the games and little subterfuges.' He leant forward, his elbows on the desk and eyed Scheidt carefully. 'My answer to you is therefore this: before I speak with General Engelbrecht, I want to know who this Odin is and why you think he is of such enormous importance.'

  Scheidt swallowed. Of course he was going to demand this. 'I understand your position, Herr Reichskommissar,' he said, 'yet—'

  Terboven cut him off. 'My dear Reichsamtsleiter, you have no other hand to play. But let me reassure you. If this man is as important as you say and if he does indeed fall into our hands, there may yet be a role for you here. At the very least, you will not suffer the fate of Brauer. You could return to Berl
in with your career and reputation intact, if not enhanced.' Terboven took his spectacles from his nose and, with a silk handkerchief, began to polish them. 'So, no more games. Let's hear it. My patience is not inexhaustible.' Having replaced his spectacles, he stood up. 'Come, let's sit more comfortably,' he said, motioning Scheidt to the Louis XIV chairs in which they had sat six days before.

  Of course, the Reichskommissar was right, Scheidt realized. Was there any truth in what Terboven had said about his future career? Really, Scheidt knew, that was irrelevant. He was now cornered and would have to play his hand. Odin's secret would be his no more. He sat, smoothed his tie and said, 'Very well. Odin, Herr Reichskommissar, is a scientist...'

  Tanner's prediction about the rain had been correct. That morning it poured, soaking the men and turning the track through the valley to mud. But with the rain came low cloud. Above them, the mountains were invisible. Ahead, wisps of seemingly stray cloud hovered among the trees. Aero-engines could briefly be heard droning across the sky, but they never saw the planes. More importantly, as Tanner was well aware, the aircraft could not see them.

  It was small consolation, and had done nothing to improve his dark mood. The humiliation he had suffered at the hands of Chevannes still preyed on his mind. How dare that bastard talk about him and Anna in front of his men? He hated people knowing his business and the thought of the others looking knowingly at him and Anna infuriated him. He had avoided her since. After all, what were they going to do? Walk through the mountains hand in hand? He could not deny that he found her attractive, or that he liked her, but now was not the time to be distracted. They had a mission to complete.

  The valley climbed gently and, with the rain, the snow was receding almost before their eyes. Tanner pushed back his helmet and turned up the collar of his battle blouse, but still water dripped down his back, while the rain pattered noisily on his helmet. And while his jerkin was resisting the rain, his battle dress, so warm in cold, dry weather, was now heavy and sodden. His trousers clung to his legs. He stopped and, under the shelter of a pine tree, wrapped his remaining three packets of Nobel's and sticks of dynamite tightly in the German wind jacket and stuffed them back into his pack. The heavy canvas of their webbing protected the remaining rounds of ammunition, but the possibility of losing it to the wet was another thing to worry about.