The Odin Mission (45 page)

'Trust me,' he said. 'It'll be fine.'

By six o'clock, Tanner was finding it increasingly difficult to
maintain his outward
sangfroid
, although he knew that to betray his mounting anxiety
would be a grave mistake. Having returned to the
seter
, he now busied himself cleaning
his rifle and the Spandau once more, and hoping the others did not notice his
near-constant checking of his watch.

At around twenty past six, his corporal finally
appeared.

'Well?' said Tanner, hurrying to him.

Sykes grinned. 'They're there. A company, maybe two,
of mountain troops.'

'Ha!' said Tanner, laughing. 'We were bloody right,
Stan!'

'You
were right, Sarge.' 'Good work,
Stan. Bloody good work. And you weren't seen?'

'No. Zellner's with them, though. And they've got searchlights - small
ones, but lights all the same. Brought accumulator packs and everything.'

Tanner grinned. 'Perfect. And
you
were right all along,' he whispered. 'There is a
spy.'

'I've got the nose for it, Sarge. I tell you what, you watch my back
and I'll watch yours. Cos together, I reckon, we make a good team, you and me.'

Tanner
slapped the side of the corporal's arm. 'You've done well. I owe you.'

The final hours were interminable. At half past nine, accompanied by
Chevannes and Larsen, Tanner left the knoll for the last time. The town was as
quiet as ever, the troops, it seemed, billeted in the town's houses and the trucks
still parked next to the church.

'It looks calm,' muttered Chevannes. 'And you've seen nothing,
Sergeant, to make you think they're up to anything?'

'No, sir. Apart from the truck and staff car earlier, there's been no
movement.'

'I saw nothing, either,' said Larsen, 'and the crossing is nearly six
kilometres away. No one from the town will hear or see us rowing across from
that distance.'

'Jerry doesn't seem to have bothered pushing further west, sir.'

'Apart from the truck you saw earlier, Sergeant.'

Tanner shrugged. 'Probably just reconnaissance.'

Chevannes nodded. '
Bon.'

They walked in silence back to the
seter
,
where the rest of the men were
waiting outside, wearing German tunics, field caps and black-leather webbing.
Tanner followed quickly, rolling his jerkin and battle blouse into the bottom
of his pack. He had already transferred most of his explosives into his
haversack and gas-mask bag. Having wedged his tin helmet into his pack, he
placed the last two packs of Nobel's 808 on top.

When they were ready, Chevannes looked at his watch.
'Three minutes past ten,' he said. 'Let's go.'

Tanner, heart pounding, glanced at Sykes. 'Actually,
sir, I'd like to say something.'

A flash of irritation crossed Chevannes' face. 'What,
Sergeant? Be quick about it.'

'I don't think we should cross the lake after all.'

Chevannes and the Norwegians looked equally aghast.
'What?' said Chevannes, angry now.

'I don't think we should cross the lake,' Tanner
repeated. 'I think we should go through the town.'

'Have you gone mad, Tanner?' said Chevannes.

'No, sir.'
Say this right
, he told himself.
Don't muck it up now.
'I'm sorry, sir. It's just that
there are only about fifty or so men in the town. They're not expecting us. We can
climb down to a spot above the bridge and watch for an hour or so. I reckon we
can take out the guards quietly enough, then march up to those trucks. You
speak good German, sir, and so do the lieutenants here. At night, when all is
quiet, they wouldn't suspect a thing.' He could see some of his men nodding
now.

'Except that every German soldier for a hundred miles
seems to know about us.'

'I'm sorry, sir. I hadn't considered it before, but as
we were walking back from the knoll...' Chevannes was rubbing his chin.
Good. Indecision again.
'The thing is, sir,' Tanner
continued, 'it's the far side of the lake that's bothering me. We're going to
have to climb up and over the mountain, which will take time. I don't suppose
we'll be followed again, but those trucks are just sitting there. This time
tomorrow we could be in Andalsnes.'

Chevannes bit his bottom lip and glanced at Larsen and
Nielssen.

'I think there's something in what Tanner says, sir,'
said Nielssen. 'I've had a look down on the town today and I'm certain they're
not expecting us. I think it's a risk worth taking.'

'I'm not so sure,' Larsen said. 'We know the coast is
clear at the crossing. Going through the town seems to me too big a risk.'

'We need M/T straight away,' said Tanner. 'The crossing
will hold us up. For all we know our boys might be about to evacuate. The more
I think about it the more I'm convinced we should head straight down the hill
and go through the town. In any case, they wouldn't think we'd have the nerve.
That's precisely why we should do it. Fortune favours the brave, sir.'

'I could walk ahead,' said Anna. 'See whether the
coast is clear.'

'That's not a good idea,' said Larsen. 'There's bound
to be a curfew.'

'I think we should do it, Henrik,' Nielssen said to
Larsen.

'Me too,' said Tanner. 'Come on, sir,' he said to

Chevannes. 'We can do this. Those trucks are just sitting there. It'll
be dark, we're wearing German uniforms - it'll work, I know it will.'
Come on, Chevannes.

'Let me think—' said the Frenchman.

'No,' said Larsen. 'We should stick to the original plan.'

Now,
Tanner thought. 'Why, sir?' he said, stepping towards
Larsen. 'Do you know something we don't?'

'What do you mean?' Larsen's eyes darted briefly, almost imperceptibly,
to either side of him. But Tanner saw.

'Exactly that, sir. Are you hiding something from us?'

Larsen shifted his feet. 'No - of course not. Whatever do you mean,
Tanner?'

'What the hell are you talking about, Sergeant?' Chevannes frowned.

'I'm just wondering, sir, if he can explain why the best part of two
hundred German mountain troops are lying in wait for us in the trees beside the
crossing-point.'

'What?'
Chevannes was incredulous. So were the others, but
Larsen simply stood where he was, the colour draining from his face.

'No!' said Nielssen, shock and anger in his voice. 'No, Henrik! Say it
is not true!'

'I—I do not know what you are talking about.'

The professor stumbled forward and tugged at Larsen's arm. 'Henrik?'

'Lieutenant?' It was Chevannes' turn, utter incomprehension on his
face.

'You - you are wrong,' stammered Larsen, 'I know nothing about it. You
are lying, Sergeant. How dare you?' 'The only one lying is you,' said Tanner.
'Someone has betrayed us. Those Stukas didn't come from nowhere. Neither did
those trucks on the pass. But this confirms it.'

'It was a set-up,' mumbled Larsen.

'Yes,' said Tanner. 'We'd suspected it for a while, but when those
Jerries turned up this afternoon we knew for certain. The only thing I didn't know
was who.'

'Men!' called out Chevannes. 'Hold him!' But Larsen already had his
pistol in his hand. He grabbed Sandvold and pulled him towards him, the gun
thrust towards the professor's stomach.

'You traitor!' said Anna, tears in her eyes. 'How could you?'

'Get back! Get back, all of you!' said Larsen, dragging Sandvold
towards the
seter.

The professor gasped. 'Stop this madness, Henrik!'

'Quiet! Now get back - or I will shoot!'

Tanner took a step towards him. 'Sir, put the gun down.'

'Get back, Sergeant!'

Tanner took another step towards him. 'Sir, put down the pistol.' He
was now just three yards away.

'Sergeant! Not a step closer!'

'Tanner, don't be a damned fool!' There was panic in Chevannes' voice.

'Don't worry, sir. He won't shoot. Not the professor anyway. The
Germans want Professor Sandvold alive, not dead. If all the lieutenant can
offer them is a body they'll not thank him. Not after all this effort.' He took
another step forward. 'It's over, sir.' Larsen's eyes
flickered wildly. 'Sir,' Tanner said once
more, 'put down the pistol.'

Larsen pressed its muzzle harder into Sandvold's side,
then suddenly pushed him forward so that he staggered and fell. 'You were
right, Sergeant,' he said, trickles of sweat running down his face, 'I wouldn't
shoot the professor, but I will kill you.'

Tanner took another step forward so that he was now
only a few feet away.

'Sergeant, this is your last chance,' said Larsen. His
eyes were still darting from one man to another and his outstretched hand
quivered.

Tanner continued to stare at him. His mind was clear;
the nerves he had felt earlier were gone. Timing was everything, and although
he was fairly sure no shot would be heard in the town, it was a risk he would
rather avoid.

Then Nielssen stepped forward. 'Why, Henrik?' he said,
and for a fraction of a second Larsen turned his head towards him.

Tanner grabbed Larsen's wrist and pushed the
lieutenant's arm backwards, both quickly and hard. The pistol fell from his
hand, and Tanner drove his left fist into the Norwegian's head with a
punishingly hard jab. Larsen's eyes rolled back and he toppled over,
unconscious.

For a moment no one spoke. Then Tanner picked up the
pistol, stood over him and said, 'Treacherous bastard. And to think I liked
him.'

'Have you killed him, Sergeant?' asked the professor.

'No,' he said, wiping the back of his hand across his
mouth. 'He'll come round in a minute.' The others gathered round the prostrate
figure. Tanner felt Anna take his hand. Tears ran down her face.

'I cannot believe it,' she said. 'I just cannot
believe it.'

Larsen groaned and Nielssen squatted beside him.
'Why?' he said. 'Why, Henrik?'

Larsen mumbled in Norwegian.

'What?' said Chevannes. 'What is he saying?' But
Larsen continued to speak in his own language, not to Sandvold or to the others
but to Nielssen.

Tanner walked back to where he had placed the Spandau,
lifted it and hoisted it on to his shoulder. It was twenty past ten, and he was
anxious to leave so that they could reach a position above the bridge before
dark. And there was another reason: the guards changed every two hours at half
past the hour and the next changeover was due at eleven thirty. Tanner reckoned
eleven o'clock was the right time to deal with them - when their alertness was
diminishing but well before the fresh shift arrived.

He was about to ask Chevannes what they should do with
the traitor when he heard a strangled cry. He pushed through his men and saw
Larsen dead on the ground. Nielssen was cleaning his short bayonet grimly on
Larsen's tunic, then put it back in its sheath. 'I had no choice,' he said.

Tanner nodded. 'How did he do it?'

Nielssen rolled the dead man over and took off his
pack. First he pulled out a small cloth bag, then a sheaf of papers and two
metal boxes with a length of wire.

'Christ,' said Tanner. 'What the hell are they?'

Nielssen looked at them. 'I'm not certain, but from
these dials, I'd suggest this one must be a transmitter of some kind. It's
tiny.'

Tanner turned to Chevannes. 'Sir?'