The Odin Mission (11 page)

He drained his
tumbler. Yes, damn it, he would get out of Oslo, head to Lillehammer and
oversee the operation to capture Odin. That would shake up that idler Kurz.
Scheidt smiled. Already, his mood was lightening.

Another aircraft
overhead, higher this time and slightly away towards the valley. It hummed
gutturally, then, as the pilot throttled back, the engines seemed to catch and
change tone. No firing of guns, no bombs dropped; a reconnaissance aircraft,
then. Tanner followed its route until it disappeared from sight. Had any of the
crew spotted them? He couldn't know, but he felt as though he was being
watched. It unnerved him.

And what the hell were these Norwegians doing up here? He had probed
Gulbrand once more, but the colonel had been evasive. Sykes joined him as
Tanner scanned all around with his scope.

'Got a spare beadie, Stan?' Tanner asked him.

Sykes tapped the packet out of his pocket. 'There's something funny
going on with these Vikings,' he said as he struck a match into his cupped
hand. He passed a lit cigarette to Tanner. 'They look terrible and not just the
colonel. They've been up here a fair few days. If it weren't for the fact that
there're lots of Norwegians in the valley I'd say they're on the run from
something.'

'The Bosches?' suggested Tanner, with a grin.

'Course from Jerry, but there's more to it than that. Why are they up
here? What's more, who's that civvy geezer? Nah, I tell you, Sarge, there's
something going on. Something they don't want to tell us.'

Tanner shrugged. 'Maybe. But right now I don't give a damn what they're
doing up here as long as they can help us get back to the battalion.' He blew
out some smoke. 'Stay out here a moment, Stan, and keep a dekko. I'm going to
get one of those Norwegians and sort out a plan of action. We've wasted enough
time already.'

Tanner went back into the
seter
, where most of the men now sat. The temperature had
dropped noticeably and it was cold inside, despite the men now huddled there.
The hut was small - perhaps twenty foot by fifteen - a simple wooden structure
that had a musty smell of dust and damp pine. There was a door at the centre,
and a window to the side from which the thick cobwebs had been removed.

Tanner sighed. Christ, he was tired. Tired and bloody starving. Several
of his men were already asleep and they had only been there five minutes -
Hepworth was squatting in the corner, his head falling forwards. Tanner stooped
over Gulbrand. 'He's asleep,' said Larsen.

'Asleep or unconscious?' asked Tanner. As he said this the colonel
groaned. 'Asleep for now.' He stood up again. 'We've got to get him out of here
somehow.'

Larsen nodded. He had a pale, lean face, with several days' growth of
gingery beard. Like the others, he was exhausted, his eyes grey and hollow.

'Who's the most senior of you lot after the colonel?'

'I am,' said Larsen. 'I've been two years a lieutenant. Nielssen was
only promoted last year.'

'Have you got a map?'

'Here.' He delved into his rucksack.

'Look, my corporal's outside. Do you mind if the three of us have a
talk?' Larsen followed him out. 'It's after nine now,' said Tanner, blowing
into his hands. He could see his breath on the chill evening air. 'It doesn't
get dark until after eleven, so we've a couple more hours of daylight. We need
to get a move on if we've any chance of catching up with the Allies. But we've
got two big problems. First,' he said, to Larsen, 'Colonel Gulbrand. We're not
going to get far if we take him with us.' Larsen nodded. 'Second,' continued
Tanner, 'we've got a lot of exhausted men in there - or, rather, starving
exhausted men - and I include myself.'

'And me an' all,' said Sykes.

'Yes,' said Larsen, 'it is the same for us.'

Tanner eyed him. 'Are you going to tell us what you're doing up here?
You look like you've been on the go even longer than us.'

'I wish I could,' said Larsen. 'But please believe me that it is of
vital importance. Vital importance.'

'All right, but I'm assuming you want to reach the Allies too?'

'Yes. Very much.'

'So, first we need to know where we are and find out what's going on
down in the valley. And, second, we need food. I want to have a dekko, see how
far Jerry's got and where our boys are.'

Sykes noticed Larsen's quizzical expression. 'I know, sir,' he said to
the Norwegian. 'It took me a while to understand the sergeant's lingo. He means
he wants to have a look.'

'I see,' said Larsen.

'And at the same time, we try to find some food. How far down do we
have to go before we get to some farmhouses, sir?' he asked Larsen.

'Not so far. I think we are above Oyer.' Larsen opened the map and held
it up. 'Look, this stream. I'm sure it is just ahead - you can see the ground
falling away. If so, there are bound to be farms high above the village.'

'And from the contours, sir, it looks as though the valley sides are
not as steep here as they were around Lillehammer. That'll make things easier.'
Tanner looked at them both. 'In that case we should take the colonel. It there
are farms below, as you say, we can leave him at one of them. They can get him
into the village and then to Lillehammer. All right,' Tanner continued. 'I
suggest you and I, sir, go on a recce. We'll take a couple of others with us -
one of my lads and Lieutenant Nielssen. Between
us
we
can carry the colonel. Stan, you stay here and look after the others. Make sure
there's a guard at all times, but that'll give them a chance to get some kip.
There's going to be a reasonable moon tonight, so I reckon we should rest up
here until dark. Then, if things are quiet, we'll head down into the valley.'

'How will you carry the colonel?' asked Sykes.

'We find a
couple of strong sticks and thread the arms of two greatcoats through them to
make a stretcher.'

The colonel,
however, woke as they tried to lift him on to the improvised stretcher and
refused to be moved. 'No,' he said, through gritted teeth. 'I will not be
handed over to the Germans. I cannot.'

'But you need to get to a hospital, sir,' said Larsen.

He glared at his lieutenant. 'No, Henrik.'

'Colonel,' Tanner added, 'the longer we leave you, the greater the
chances are that you'll die before we can get you proper help.'

Gulbrand winced with pain again. 'No!' he hissed. 'Now, do as I say.
Leave me.'

Tanner did as he was ordered. Whatever their reason for such secrecy
was their affair; as long as they continued to help him and his men, it made no
odds. He understood. He had secrets of his own; dark secrets he had never
spoken about to a living soul since he had joined the Army as a sixteen-year-old
boy soldier. In any case, he reasoned, their climb down the mountain would be
easier without the colonel - and greater manoeuvrability meant the risk would
be less. Wounded men, he reminded himself, were always a hindrance.

Tanner took Private McAllister, one of the riflemen in Sykes's section
- he seemed less affected by the afternoon's events than the others. At any
rate, he was still awake and appeared to have his wits about him. Nielssen
accompanied Larsen, leaving the civilian with the colonel.

Progress was slow to begin with but, overlooking the steep ravine cut
by the stream, they found the outline of a rough track that wound its way
through the trees and off the slopes. The further they climbed down, the more
the snow thinned until eventually the dark stone and grit of the track was
revealed and the four men were able to walk freely. As the trees cleared, they
crept forward to the bank at the side of the track. Spread beneath them was the
snaking valley of the Lagen river, which resembled a winding lake. Nestling
above the water's edge was the village of Oyer, the valley and the single
railway line clearly visible. Beyond, isolated farms dotted the lower slopes on
both sides of the river, and around them, marking clear breaks in the thick
pine forests, were small fields - which would soon be full of rich grass for
hay-making and grazing. Now, though, in the third week of April, the valley was
like a photograph - black and white and shades of grey. Only the water of the
Lagen, deeply, darkly, icily blue, offered colour.

Almost directly below there was a farmstead, and another beyond, a
hundred yards further down. Tanner admired the now familiar design: the
steep-pitched roof, the ornate wooden veranda, the barn with its stone ramp. A
dog barked briefly, but otherwise it was as eerily still as it had been higher
up on the mountain. Again, he could not hear the song of a single bird.

'It seems quiet enough,' said Larsen.

Tanner pulled out his scope. 'There's movement,' he said. Several
Heinkels flew northwards along the valley, dropping their bombs a few miles
north-west of the village. Clouds of smoke erupted on the lower slopes of the
mountains and across the river. Intermittent artillery shells resounded around
the same part of the valley. In the distance there were bursts of small arms.

'They're making some kind of stand up there,' said Tanner.

'What can you see?' asked Larsen.

'Not sure. Hard to tell, even with this. A few vehicles on the road in
front of us, though. What look like several carts. I need to get closer.'

'Nielssen and I will try these farms,' said Larsen.

'All right,' said Tanner. 'McAllister and I will cover you. We'll be
able to see if the coast is clear, then we'll head down a bit further.' Tanner
looked at his watch. 'It's a quarter to ten. Meet back here in half an hour, no
later. We need to get on our way. If the front really is only a few miles up
the valley, we've a good chance of catching up tonight.'

Larsen nodded. 'Good luck, Sergeant.'

Tanner and McAllister watched the two Norwegians walk cautiously down
the track towards the farm, their rifles slung over their shoulders and
rucksacks still on their backs. Tanner heard McAllister's stomach grumble. 'My
God, Mac,' he said. 'That's some racket your belly's making.'

'Sorry, Sarge,' said McAllister. He grinned at Tanner sheepishly. 'It's
them Vikings heading off for food. It's got me going again.'

'Well, stop thinking about it. Concentrate on keeping a bead on them.'

Tanner had his own rifle out and aimed towards the farm. In silence now
they watched the two men approach the house. Two dogs barked and ran towards
them. Nielssen held out his hands and they approached, tails wagging at the
friendly gesture. Larsen knocked on the door, which opened. A middle-aged man,
with a grey moustache. Talking - an explanation. Then the two men were inside,
the door closed behind them.

'Good,' said Tanner. 'Looks like we might get some grub. Come on, Mac,
let's get going.'

They left the track and moved back into the trees. The forest was dense
and dark. Melting snow dripped round them, but the ground, although steep in
parts, was covered with no more than an inch or two and they were able to move
easily, almost running in places. Skirting another farm, Tanner stopped by a
clearing in the trees from which they could see the road, now no more than a
few hundred yards ahead.

They were behind several pines to the side of the clearing, and Tanner
knew they were well hidden, especially now that the light was fading. A column
of men and horses pulling artillery pieces was working its way towards the
village. Tanner peered through his scope. 'Damn it,' he hissed.

'Jerries?' whispered McAllister.

Tanner nodded, then turned towards the village. There were trucks,
cars, other vehicles, and by the church, a huge tank, with a squat,
thick-muzzled gun. Emerging from the village was a line of men, three or four
wide. From their helmets and greatcoats, he knew they were British. 'Jesus,' he
murmured.

'What is it, Sarge?'

'You don't want to know.' Several German infantrymen were walking
beside them, rifles in hand. As they cleared the village and tramped slowly out
on the valley road, they met the line of artillery. Tanner saw the Germans
jeering, then strained his eyes to the front of the prisoners and realized with
dismay that none other than Captain Cartwright and Lieutenant Dingwall were
leading the column.

Poor sods.
For the moment, though, he would keep it to himself. No point unduly worrying
the others. 'Come on, Mac, we've seen enough. We need to get a move on.'

They found
Nielssen and Larsen waiting for them by the track above the farm. Between them
they had managed to get hold of some salted ham, a dozen eggs, some cheese and
several loaves of bread. Larsen cut Tanner and McAllister some ham now and
passed it to them. It was old, almost blue, and as salty as seawater, but to
Tanner it tasted delicious. 'Here, have some bread too,' said Larsen, tearing
off a chunk.

'Damn me, that's good.' Tanner grinned. His energy was returning.

'Did you ever have chocolate as a kid, Sarge?' McAllister asked him.

'Once or twice maybe. Why?'

'This tastes even better than that.'