Dogfight

by Craig Simpson

  ‘Let’s take a look, shall we?’ said Loki. He rose to his knees.

  ‘Sit back down,’ Jack barked. He pulled his pistol from his anorak pocket and pointed it at him. ‘Sit down!’

  Loki froze. I knew he was trying to figure out if Jack was being serious. And knowing him as well as I did, I suspected he was willing to test Jack to the very limit. I grasped his arm and pulled him back down next to me. ‘It’s not worth it,’ I said.

  Loki grunted and ground his teeth.

  Slowly Jack lowered his gun.

  I thought for a moment and wondered if a different tack might get Jack to talk. ‘Say, did you ever get to meet the Penguin or the Telescope?’

  He blinked in surprise. ‘How on earth do you know about them?’

  ‘We carry messages for the Resistance,’ I replied. ‘I heard the names.’

  ‘I see.’ He held my stare. ‘Yes, I did.’

  ‘Who are they?’

  ‘I can’t tell you that, you idiot.’

  I smarted at his rebuke. ‘Pity,’ I added, ‘because I reckon they’re in as much danger as the rest of us. When I was imprisoned in the Kristiansten Fortress and was interrogated by the SS, they questioned me about the Penguin. So I figure after what happened to Heimar and Idur Svalbad, the SS are probably hard on the Penguin’s heels. We’d be happy to get a message to him, to warn him.’ I looked to Loki, and he nodded in agreement.

  ‘Leave that to others,’ Jack replied. ‘Father Amundsen will deal with it.’ He thought and then asked, ‘Tell me more about your time at the fortress?’

  I did. He seemed impressed that I’d come through the ordeal apparently none the worse for wear. ‘So you see, Anders Jacobsen was fishing for information about the Penguin,’ I said, completing my story.

  ‘The Penguin is certainly special,’ he replied, ‘in more ways than one. I’m not surprised the SS are so interested in him. What I can say, though, is that I’m damn glad he’s on our side. He and the Telescope are two of a kind. Without them, my job here would have been a hundred times harder. In fact, I would probably have failed.’

  Something clicked. It was the way he spoke, I think, and the way his eyes lit up, that caused the wacky idea to spark inside my head. ‘He’s German, isn’t he? The Telescope too. We’ve got men on the inside. We’ve got Germans spying for us, haven’t we?’

  Jack looked away. ‘I really can’t say any more.’

  He didn’t need to. His obvious squirming discomfort spoke volumes. ‘We have, haven’t we? Bloody hell!’

  ‘Forget all about it, Finn,’ said Freya.

  Jack nodded. ‘She’s right. Knowing such things can be detrimental to your health.’ He tapped his leather briefcase. ‘Anyway, this is what it’s all about. Inside this briefcase. It’s top secret stuff. Worth all our lives, and many more besides.’

  Now I knew why he guarded that briefcase so closely.

  ‘So don’t you dare breathe a word to anyone about the Penguin,’ he added.

  ‘My lips are sealed,’ I replied. ‘Cross my heart and hope to … well, you know.’

  Germans! Working for us. God, I thought, the world really was a crazy place. Was anyone, or anything, actually what it seemed? I stared at Jack’s briefcase. ‘Mr Larson said that you were doing reconnaissance for a commando raid. I guess you’ve been drawing up plans.’

  ‘Yes, but it’s probably all a waste of time.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Well, Finn, from what I’ve learned, London hasn’t long to get things organized and carry out the raid. Soon the opportunity will be gone.’

  ‘Gone?’ I thought about what Heimar had said. He reckoned that the Germans were hiding either ships or submarines in the fjord. ‘You mean the target will have set sail? It’ll be steaming towards the North Atlantic to hunt down the Allied convoys.’

  ‘Very good, Finn. You’re not as stupid as you look.’

  I ignored his sarcasm. ‘What I don’t know, though,’ I added, ‘is whether we’re talking about U-boats or ships, or both even?’

  ‘Think big, Finn. Very, very big. Ask yourself the question – what is the largest type of vessel in the Kriegsmarine?’

  I thought for a moment. Well, apart from submarines, there were the German E-boats, cruisers and battleships. Battleships! That was it! A massive lump of floating iron with huge guns capable of pounding the life out of lesser vessels. We’d seen more ships arrive in the fjord. Probably part of some sort of battle group. None were anywhere near the size of a battleship. But maybe they were waiting for one to arrive. ‘Incredible,’ I said. ‘And you think the British commandos can succeed? If they’re quick, I mean?’

  ‘Maybe. It’s a tough call, Finn. With my maps, perhaps they’ll have a slim chance. Without them, a raid would be suicide.’

  ‘It’s time we made a move,’ said Freya. ‘Gather everything up. And start praying that the RAF manage to find the right valley, or else we’re in big trouble.’

  Chapter Fifteen

  Ambush!

  OUTSIDE THE CAVE a stiff breeze whistled up through the mountain pass. The night was clear, the stars too many to count, the universe laid bare before our eyes. The cold numbed my cheeks within minutes. Freya led the way, her hunting rifle slung across her back. She also carried a rucksack containing the flares we’d need to mark out the limits of the makeshift runway. I helped Jack along as best I could. His ankle had been strapped up but he couldn’t put much weight on it. He leaned heavily on me as we struggled on with our skis. Loki’s responsibility was carrying the S-phone and I think he was glad. Somehow I couldn’t see him lending Jack a hand.

  Descending into the next valley, I peered down at the smooth expanse of ice and snow covering the lake. I thought it was just about long enough to land a small plane, to turn it round and take off again, provided the pilot got the approach right. I reckoned it would be best if he flew in from the northwest because the mountains were lower on that side. We paused to catch our breath.

  Jack looked in bad shape. The pills Freya had given him didn’t seem to be working.

  Freya tore off her goggles and peered into his face. ‘Can you make it?’ she asked. ‘Jack? Can you hear me, Jack?’

  Leaning hard on me, his head hung low, his breath short and rasping, he didn’t reply. She grabbed his other arm and shook him. ‘Stay with us, Jack. It’s not far now.’ She turned to me. ‘He’s worse than I thought. Can you manage, Finn, or should Loki take over?’

  ‘I’ll manage,’ I replied. ‘But let’s hope the aircraft makes it tonight, otherwise we’re in deep trouble. I can’t see us getting back to the cave.’

  I saw fear in her eyes. She knew exactly what I meant. If the pilot failed to show, Jack was done for. Maybe we were too.

  At the bottom of the valley, we made for the shore of the frozen lake. The wind had picked up and sprinted across the ground, kicking up the powdery snow and blowing it in waves that looked like billowing sails of mist. Grains flew into our faces, stinging and making our eyes water. Finally we all collapsed, exhausted. Clutching his leather briefcase as if he feared someone snatching it from him, Jack rolled himself up into a ball. He shivered violently, and it worried me. I slid over to where Freya was busily rummaging through her rucksack. ‘What’s wrong with him?’ I asked. ‘I mean, other than his ankle. He looks mighty sick.’

  ‘Exposure,’ she replied. ‘In order to carry out his mission, he had to camp out. It’s taken its toll on him.’ She grabbed a few more pills and forced them into his mouth.

  ‘Will he be all right?’

  ‘Let’s hope so, Finn. Now, we’ve got to get ourselves organized.’ She peered around, assessing the terrain. ‘We need to mark out the runway. I’ve got six flares, so I suggest we place them in pairs about a hundred yards apart. What do you think? Is that far enough?’

  ‘What sort of plane is coming to fetch him?’ I asked.

  ‘How the hell should I know?’

  I called to Loki. ‘Hey, did your father say
what sort of plane we can expect?’

  Loki slid nearer to us. ‘No. But if it was my choice, I’d use a Lysander. It’s small but perfect for the job, don’t you think?’

  ‘Yes,’ I said. ‘I’d use a Lysander too.’

  Loki’s father had talked enthusiastically about the Lysander many times. He said that once the war was over and things returned to normal – if that was ever possible – he was going to try and get hold of one. He reckoned it would be perfect for getting to all those difficult places, where there’s limited room to land and take off. The Lysander’s claim to fame was what pilots called ‘STOL’, or ‘Short Takeoff and Landing’. Apparently it could take off and climb to fifty feet in less than the length of a football pitch. The Lysander was also quite a small single-engine plane with dragonfly wings, about thirty feet long and with a wingspan of about fifty feet. I doubted it could carry a heavy payload – maybe two or three passengers at the most. Freya was still waiting for an answer to her question. ‘Probably best to place the flares a hundred and fifty yards apart, just to make sure,’ I said, thinking that the plane might have difficulty stopping on the mixture of snow and ice. She smiled gratefully.

  We sat and waited. The cold seeped into me. While we’d been on the move, and all adrenaline-fuelled, I’d generated my own warmth. It was probably about minus ten degrees or less. The air possessed that sharp, clean crispness to it that it always had when it got really cold. I wondered if Jack was going to make it. He remained huddled in a ball, shivering. Freya wedged herself tightly up against him, and rubbed his back and arms vigorously as if she feared his blood would suddenly stop flowing.

  ‘Better get that radio set up, Finn. Just in case they’re early,’ she said.

  Loki gave me a hand plugging in the aerial, microphone and battery, and then adjusted the straps while I held the device against my chest. ‘All done,’ he said. ‘Better try it out.’

  I put on the headphones and flicked the power switch. All I heard was static crackle. I called out to Freya. ‘I’ll tell the pilot to approach from the northwest.’ I pointed to my right. ‘It’ll be easier for him that way. The wind direction will give him maximum lift when he takes off again. So you’ll need to line up the flares so they point towards that low ridge.’

  Her gaze followed my outstretched arm, and then she looked around anxiously. ‘Right,’ she said. ‘I think we’re OK here. If we make this the end of the runway, we’ll be close to the aircraft when she stops and turns. The pilot won’t want to remain on the ground for a second longer than he has to.’ She looked at her watch. ‘Just half an hour to go.’

  My nerves felt tantalizingly on edge as we all listened out for the droning whine of a distant engine. Being in charge of the radio, I realized that a lot depended on me. I strained so hard to hear that even the quiet of the night seemed loud. In truth, the night wasn’t quiet at all. Now and again we heard cracks and groans. It was the ice beneath us shifting like a slumbering giant turning in his bed. Despite knowing what it was, it still filled me with dread. After all, we only had Freya’s word that the ice was thick enough to support our weight, let alone that of a plane. Then, without warning, I heard a distant howl. ‘What was that?’

  ‘Sounds like a herd of deer, Finn,’ Freya replied, reaching for her rifle. ‘I may have to scare them off.’

  ‘Great!’ said Loki. ‘As if we didn’t have enough to contend with.’

  Freya stood up and pulled back the hood of her anorak. She faced south, the wind catching her hair from behind and drawing it across her cheeks like the fluttering, frayed edge of a scarf. Her eyes narrowed. ‘I don’t think they’re heading our way,’ she said.

  I hoped she was right. The last thing the pilot needed was a slippery runway littered with animals.

  Having inspected her watch for the umpteenth time, Freya stiffened up and announced that the time had come. She handed Loki four of the stick-like flares. ‘Here’s what we’ll do,’ she said. ‘I will plant the two flares nearest to us here, then I’ll stand next to them, ready to set them off on Finn’s signal.’ She turned to me. ‘When you’ve made contact with the pilot, shout and wave to me. OK?’

  I nodded.

  ‘Good. Loki, you head off and lay the other flares. Wait by the furthermost one until I set mine off. Then ski back as fast as you can, setting off the others along the way.’

  Loki stuffed the flares inside his anorak, fastened it up tightly and sped off on his skis. Freya moved to a position about forty yards from where I remained knelt beside Jack. He’d managed to sit up and was watching us through weary, bloodshot eyes. ‘You OK?’ I asked.

  He nodded but his expression remained grim. Then he suddenly shivered violently and squeezed his eyes tightly shut as if in excruciating pain. I repeated my question. He didn’t seem to hear me. I decided it best to let him be. We sat in silence. Slowly Jack slumped forward. I gave him a shove. He was barely conscious. I knew I had to keep him awake – an unconscious Jack would be a disaster. I needed to keep him talking. ‘Looking forward to getting home, I expect?’ I said, loudly and cheerily.

  He grunted. To my relief he’d heard me.

  ‘Suppose you’ll miss Freya,’ I added. I gave him another shove.

  He thought for a moment before nodding.

  ‘I think she’s fallen for you.’

  He lifted his head and gave me the most curious look.

  ‘I can tell,’ I said. ‘In the cave. Earlier. The way she sidled up to you, put her hand on your shoulder. Loki noticed it too. So I’m not dreaming it up. And Loki’s been after her for ages, so he’s not happy.’

  Jack managed a feeble laugh.

  ‘What? What’s so funny?’

  He shook his head at me. Struggling to speak, he said, ‘I think you’ve misread the situation, Finn.’

  ‘Really? Don’t think so, Jack.’

  ‘Yes you have. Freya’s my sister.’

  The revelation struck me like a surprise punch in the face. It took a moment to sink in. ‘What? You liar. She hasn’t got a brother.’

  ‘She has and you’re looking at him.’ He winced and cursed at his agony. After a pause, he managed to continue, ‘Well, half-brother, anyway. I grew up in England. I guess Heimar’s never spoken about me.’

  ‘You’re talking rubbish,’ I said. ‘You must be delirious.’

  ‘No, really. Ask her when I’ve gone. Get her to tell you everything.’

  He sounded so sincere it puzzled me. Although we’d known Uncle Heimar for years, it dawned on me that we actually knew very little about his past. We knew him simply as a fisherman and hunter, a great storyteller, and a man who could drink most men under the table, and frequently did. He’d been Father’s best friend for as long as I could recall. And I’d known Freya since I could walk. Was it possible? I gazed at him. ‘You don’t look at all like Heimar,’ I said pointedly.

  ‘That’s because he’s not my father.’

  I sorted through it all in my head. Freya’s mother, Jack’s mother, had died years ago from cancer. That much I knew for a fact. My faded, distant memories were of a tall blonde woman who smelled of wild strawberries. ‘So Freya’s mother was married before she met Heimar?’

  He nodded.

  I scratched my head. ‘Honestly?’

  ‘Uh-huh. So your friend needn’t worry on my account.’

  ‘I see.’ I paused. ‘Do you think Freya likes Loki?’

  ‘Reckon so. Why?’

  ‘Until recently I thought she didn’t like him much. But when he asked her out, and she said yes, I was astonished.’

  A grin broke out on his lips. ‘I’d say she’s quite taken. Always talking about him too. God knows why though.’ He settled back on his elbows. ‘Now, isn’t it time you tried calling me a taxi. I want to get home tonight.’

  I placed the headphones over my ears and lifted the microphone to my lips. I flipped the switch and looked skyward. There was no sign of the plane and I had no idea where to point the aerial, but I t
ried anyway. ‘Viper, this is Bald Eagle. Do you read me? Over.’ I turned through a few degrees and repeated the call. Then I turned again. I figured that if I kept it up, going round and round, eventually I’d make contact. Provided, that is, Viper had made it this far.

  For ten minutes I twisted and turned. Eventually the crackling hiss in my ears faded. The battery had gone flat. I hadn’t expected that, but realized why pockets on the belt carried spares. I reached down and took out a new one. As I was connecting it up, I heard Jack call out to me. I turned and saw him pointing to the south. I ripped off the headphones and listened out for what had attracted his attention. It was a distant, oscillating hum, like a drunken bee.

  ‘She’s up there, just to the left of that mountain peak,’ he croaked. ‘See her, Finn? There! See her?’

  Squinting, I eventually spotted the black speck moving slowly past the upper slopes of the mountain. I pulled the headphones back on, slid round and pointed the aerial directly towards the aircraft. Flicking the switch again, I hoped she was the plane we were waiting for, and not an enemy patrol heading towards us. ‘Bald Eagle calling Viper. Do you read me? Over.’ I prayed that I’d get a reply and that it was in Norwegian as Freya had said. I listened to the crackle for a second or two, then repeated the call. ‘Come on,’ I pleaded.

  Suddenly, through the annoying hiss, pops and chirps, came a reply. ‘This is Viper, Bald Eagle, hearing you loud and clear. Awaiting instructions. Over.’

  How fantastic! I was speaking with a real RAF pilot. And, thankfully, he was speaking to me in Norwegian. Freya had been right. My brain went all fuzzy, into overdrive, and I felt light-headed. I swallowed hard and gathered my thoughts. ‘Glad to hear from you, Viper. We are about three miles due north of your present position. Will set off flares. Suggest final approach from northwest. Over.’ I heard nothing but hiss. ‘Do you read that? Over.’

  ‘Message understood, Bald Eagle. Approach northwest. Await flares. Over.’

  I stood up and bellowed to Freya, ‘They’re coming! Set off the flares.’ I jumped up and down wildly, and waved my arms. Moments later a brilliant red flash and a blindingly bright flame lit the night. Freya and everything around her glowed like a midsummer’s day. In the distance, Loki set off the first of his, and began hurrying back towards us, pounding his skis through the powdery snow. The plane banked steeply, its engine roaring as it sped through the valley. Then it did its final turn, straightened up and began its approach.