The Odin Mission

With Quisling gone, the new Reichskommissar wandered over to the window and looked out over the city. 'Not an impressive man,' said Terboven, 'and yet, as his political adviser, you pushed for him to remain as prime minister.'

Scheidt remained seated. 'I never viewed him as anything more than a malleable stooge,' he said, after a moment's pause. 'What one has to remember is that Quisling, for all his obvious failings, has unwavering loyalty to Germany, as the Fiihrer clearly recognizes. He is, you know, a devout Christian and a highly regarded academic. He passionately believes, Herr Reichskommissar. This is what Brauer failed to appreciate. Quisling lacks resolve and charisma, but his assessment was right. The Administrative Council is a disaster. Devious and not to be trusted.'

'They sound like perfect Party members.' A thin smile. Terboven came back to his chair opposite Scheidt. 'And what about the King? Is he right about him? Should we worry, or should we simply announce the abolition of the monarchy?'

'In my opinion,' said Scheidt, carefully, 'he is right.'

'And about the bullion and jewels?'

'Resistance needs funding. So yes.' Scheidt shifted in his seat. Was this the time to reveal his hand? Timing was everything, yet Terboven's implacable face was so hard to judge.

'There's something more, isn't there, Herr Scheidt?'

He smiled again. 'It's all right. Feel free to speak frankly.'

By God he's good, thought Scheidt. 'The bullion and Crown Jewels are not with the King,' he said at length.

'Go on.'

'There are more than fifty tons of gold. I'm afraid we've lost track of it - we were not quick enough off the mark when the Norwegian government fled Oslo. It's been hidden, I'm certain, but they have to move it in bulk because if they try to split it up it will never be brought back together. Too many people will have to become involved and they cannot risk that.' He shrugged. 'People will steal it - that's human nature. I have no doubt that at some point an attempt will be made to smuggle it out of the country - but we will catch them. We have complete mastery of the skies and the Norwegians cannot hope to move fifty tons of gold without being spotted.'

'You sound very confident.'

'Fifty tons would require a special train or a convoy of trucks to move it. Of course we will find it. It's just a matter of time. And patience.' Terboven had not taken his eyes from his. 'Some of the important Crown Jewels, however, are with a small group of the King's Royal Guard led by a certain Colonel Peder Gulbrand, and we have been tracking them more closely. We lost them a few days ago, but have now located them again.'

'And why are these men not accompanying the King?'

'They were. I saw them with Brauer on the tenth of April at Elverum. But they came back to Oslo.'

'Surely not to get the jewels?'

'No. To collect a man.'

'Who?'

'Someone more valuable than gold,' said Scheidt. He saw Terboven blink then watched as the Reichskommissar removed his spectacles and carefully cleaned them with a silk handkerchief. A chink at last, he thought.

'Are you going to tell me who this man is?' said Terboven, slowly. It was couched as a question, but it might as well have been a direct order.

'We're not yet certain of his name,' Scheidt lied, 'but what he knows is literally worth liquid gold.'

Terboven offered Scheidt a cigarette from a silver case, then took one himself. The aide hurried over with a lighter and for a moment the Reichskommissar's face was partly hidden in pirouetting smoke. 'Leave us a moment, please,' he told the aide. When the two men were alone, Terboven said, 'Don't try to play games with me, Herr Scheidt.'

Scheidt took a deep breath. He could feel a line of sweat running down his back. His heart thumped. Keep calm, he told himself. 'Herr Reichskommissar,' he said slowly, 'you and I both know how precarious intelligence can be. I ask you now to trust me to deliver this man, and to believe me when I say that when I do so, we will have the eternal thanks of the Fiihrer.'

Terboven drew on his cigarette, then tipped back his head and exhaled. 'And what measures are you taking to capture him?'

'It is in hand, Herr Reichskommissar.'

'I could have you arrested and tortured, you know.'

'Yes,' said Scheidt, 'and then you lose the source too.'

'You have thought of everything, Herr Scheidt.'

'I think so.'

Terboven stubbed out his cigarette half smoked and stood up. 'Very well. I shall give you a week. And I hope very much for your sake that you can deliver on all counts - the man, the information and the jewels. A week, Herr Scheidt, that is all. Clear?'

'Perfectly, Herr Reichskommissar.'

Scheidt felt the tight grip of the Reichskommissar's hand and the narrow eyes boring into his, then he was out of the room, walking down the corridor and being escorted into the lift. My God, he thought, a week. But I must be able to find him. How hard could it be? For God's sake, didn't he have them cornered already? He just prayed his hand was as good as he hoped.

After a steep climb through thick pines and birch, having passed numerous false summits, Sergeant Jack Tanner and his patrol had reached the mountain plateau some two thousand feet above the valley. Here, the air was noticeably colder, but so long as the sun shone through the gauze of thin cloud, Tanner knew they had nothing to fear from the temperature. More of a concern was the depth of the snow, which in places, where there was a hidden hollow or it had drifted, was waist deep or more. The difficulty was that these patches were hard to spot. Some of the men found themselves taking a step forward only to sink. It was exhausting and progress slowed. Then Sykes spotted what appeared to be a drover's track where the snow had been compacted quite recently so Tanner directed the men towards it. Although it was not on Lieutenant Dingwall's map, he guessed it ran over the Balberkamp to the south and along the lip of the valley sides to the north.

'All right, we'll head southwards for a bit,' he told them. It meant they could no longer spread out in the wide arrowhead formation he preferred, but he reasoned that it was best to able to move easily. Ordering Privates Bell and Chambers to walk ahead as scouts, he directed the rest to move in staggered threes at either side of the track, so that the entire group was spread out over almost a hundred yards.

The trees were thinner, and offered less cover, but Tanner was surprised by how much they could see. The plateau now rose only gently; the shallow summit of the Balberkamp was less than a mile ahead, while to the east, the land fell away again only to climb gradually once more. Tanner paused to scan the landscape around him. It was so still. Nothing stirred up there. He thought of home, his village in the south of Wiltshire. The birds were cacophonic at this time of year. And in India, even Palestine, they were always singing, with a multitude of other noises: insects, cattle, sheep, men shouting, the exotic wail of the imam calling the faithful to prayer. But here, high on the mountains of Norway, nothing. Just the occasional explosion down in the valley.

He could see no sign of the enemy. Lieutenant Dingwall had been unable to tell him whether German mountain troops would be wearing special snow uniforms, or even if they would be using skis. He was certainly conscious, however, of how ill-suited their own uniforms were to the task in hand. The new battle dress might have been created by clever ministry boffins, but it had not been designed for snow-covered mountain warfare. Tanner sighed. Everything about this campaign had been badly planned by the top brass, it seemed. Surely someone had thought about the conditions they were likely to face in Norway. And if so, why hadn't they organized white overalls and jackets? It was obvious they should have been given such kit. He circled as he walked, his trusted Enfield ready in his hands, and checked the line of men strung out along the rough track, all in khaki and some, like himself, in tan jerkins. It would offer camouflage of sorts if they were hiding behind trees, but against bright white snow, they stood out horribly, easy targets for an enemy trained to operate in such an environment.