The Odin Mission

Chapter 19

"Ere, Sarge,' said Sykes, after Chevannes had told them they would be remaining at the seter for the time being. 'What's going on?'

'You and I are going out on a recce tonight.' He walked away from the hut and crouched on a rock beside the stream.

'Both of us?'

Tanner nodded. 'I need you with me.'

'But what about keeping an eye on the Norwegians?'

'Don't worry about that.' He winked.

Sykes looked at him suspiciously. 'What you up to, Sarge?'

'All in good time, Stan. All in good time.' He took off his pack and gas-mask case and put them on the ground. 'Right,' he said. 'What explosives have we got left? I've got two packets of Nobel's and four sticks of Polar, plus three Mills bombs.'

Sykes delved into his own pack. 'Two packets of

Nobel's and two sticks of Polar. You got some fuse left, Sarge?'

'Yes - I've got the tin here.' He took it from his pack and held it up, then put everything back and rubbed his hands together thoughtfully.

'We can still do some damage with this lot,' said Sykes.

Sandvold was walking towards them.

'Good to see you up and about, Professor,' Tanner said. 'How are you feeling?'

'An honest answer? Not so good, but better than I was.' He cleared his throat. 'I must apologize to you both, holding you up like that. I feel we have done more to stop ourselves reaching the Allies than the Germans have. I am as anxious to get north as you are, but not sorry to have this opportunity to build up my strength a little.'

'My old mum used to get migraines,' said Sykes. 'Couldn't do nothing while they were going on. Terrible they were.'

'Yes - well, hopefully the Allies are not yet out of reach.' He shuffled his feet, then said, 'I wonder, Corporal, would you mind if I had a word with Sergeant Tanner alone?'

'Not at all, sir.' He picked up his pack and stood up. 'I'll be in the seter, Sarge.'

When the corporal had gone inside, Tanner said, 'What is it, sir?'

The professor glanced around him. 'Perhaps we could wander a little further away.'

'Of course,' said Tanner, and picked up his pack with his rifle.

Sandvold walked along the stream until they were almost out of sight of the seter. 'Sergeant, I've been thinking,' he said at length. 'You and your men - Chevannes and the Chasseurs too, for that matter - have sacrificed much to help me get away. A lot has been expected of you but you have kept your promise to Colonel Gulbrand without complaint and without once thinking to save yourselves first. I am very grateful.'

'I hope it proves worthwhile.'

'Yet you have no idea what it is all about.'

'One day I'll get to the bottom of it.'

'Actually, Sergeant, I would like to tell you now.'

Tanner was surprised. 'You don't have to, you know. Perhaps it's better you don't.'

'No,' said Sandvold. 'It's better I do. In any case, you have earned my trust, Sergeant. It is only fair that you know why you have put your lives at risk on my behalf.' Sandvold glanced around him again. 'Do you know what modern armed forces need most to fight a war?'

Tanner shrugged. 'Men. Weapons. Machinery. I don't know - tanks, trucks, aircraft. Lots of aircraft.'

'In a way, yes. But what is it that enables those machines to work? What do they run on?'

'Fuel?'

'Exactly. And what is fuel?'

'Petrol.'

'Which is?' 'Oil?'

The professor smiled. 'Yes! Black gold, it is sometimes called, and so it is to anyone wanting to wage war. Now, I do not expect you to know much about the natural resources of Greater Germany, but please trust me when I say that the country lacks its own oil. And without it Hitler will be unable to continue the war. Think of all the aircraft we have been so impressed by. How will they fly without it? How will his tanks run? How will factories work? How will even a machine-gun fire without that most precious liquid? They can't. That is the simple truth.' He continued, 'It is true that I am a scientist, Sergeant Tanner, but my field is geology. So far, man has tapped only a fraction of the world's oil resources, but the difficulty is that most of it lies underground and, more specifically, under the sea. The problem is how to find it and how then to get to it. My career so far has been dedicated to solving these problems.'

'And you've been successful?'

'More so than I could possibly have hoped. I shall not bore you with the details of how I reached my conclusions but, suffice to say, study led me to believe there are large oil fields waiting to be mined on the Norwegian continental shelf.' Sandvold smiled. 'You look confused. The point, Sergeant, is that on the continental shelf, the sea is shallow - at least, shallow compared to the ocean. And in the North Sea off the coast of Norway it is only around a hundred metres deep, sometimes less.' He clapped his hands. 'So. The question is, how to get the oil up and out across the sea?'

'How?'

'Ha!' said Sandvold, wagging a finger. 'It is not an easy matter, but I have worked out a way to do it. The answer is by making a drilling platform. The principle is the same as a land-based oil-drilling station. You make a platform and its accompanying legs on land, tow them out to sea and embed them in the sea floor. Then you begin drilling.'

'But surely, Professor, you would then need legs for this platform of more than a hundred yards?'

'Yes, but that is not so very long. There are ships longer than that.'

'And you think this is possible? What about the oil? What happens to it once it is drilled?'

'Siphoned into waiting tankers. And, yes, I do certainly believe it is possible.'

'And you are the only person who knows how to do it?'

Sandvold nodded. 'Exactly, but only because no one else has thought to do it. There are better engineers than me in the world. But there is no one else who knows where this oil is. Last year I applied for a royal grant, which was awarded.'

'Which is why the King has taken such a personal interest.'

'Yes. He realized the implications. Norway could become a very rich country. But he also appreciated, as did I, that war was coming to Europe and that these discoveries, these inventions, could be a cause of potential trouble for Norway should Germany - and, I might add, Britain - find out about them.'

'How did they?'

'That I cannot say.'

'You can't or you won't?'

'I do not know. I work mostly alone. Only I have the blue papers. But the King knows, and presumably so do some of his advisers and ministers. When the war is over and we are left in peace once more, Norway will become rich, very rich indeed. But now ... That is why the Germans want me. They want my knowledge.'

'And your plans.'

'Yes, so I can help them produce the oil they will so badly need if this war goes on for any great length of time.'

'Why don't you just burn the blue papers?'

Sandvold laughed. 'Do you have any idea how much work has gone into them? It is not something I simply have stored in my head. What I have told you is how it can be done in its most simplified form. Believe me, Sergeant Tanner, reaching a stage where oil might actually be extracted from below the seabed has taken literally years of work. If it comes to it, I will burn them, but I have been hoping that with your help it will not.'

'Yet you didn't leave Oslo as the King ordered you to.'

'Because I thought that without the King in Oslo, I could be anonymous, forgotten. The arrival of Gulbrand made me realize otherwise. The experiences of the past week have confirmed my worst fears.'

Tanner ran his hands through his hair. So, he thought. It's all about oil. 'Tell me one last thing, Professor,' he said. 'Wouldn't such a platform be vulnerable to attack from the air and the sea?'

'You surround it with thick and deep minefields, and it would be within easy reach of land. In any case, you're forgetting, Sergeant, that the Nazis fully expect to control all of Europe. Or, at least, they expect all of Europe will be compliant with their designs. And after the way in which they have invaded our country, who is to stop them? Not the British.'

'We're being defeated here, I know,' said Tanner, 'but that doesn't mean we'll lose the entire war.'

'Maybe you won't lose. But can you defeat the Nazis? No. Not at the moment, at any rate. But I think Hitler is looking beyond Europe.'

'What do you mean by that?'

'I mean America and Russia.'

'But they're allied with the Russians and America isn't even in the war.'

'Not yet, but it is only a matter of time. And when that day comes Germany will need vast amounts of oil - which the Soviet Union and the United States have in abundance.'

Tanner shook his head. 'What happens next month, next year, is beyond me, Professor. All I want to think about at the moment is getting us out of here. Getting you to safety.'

'But you see now why that is so important?'

'Yes - and thank you, Professor.' He shook his head again. 'Oil - I would never have guessed. I thought it must be some secret weapon.'

Sandvold chuckled. 'In a way it is. But take heart, Sergeant. Without oil, the Nazis won't win. Not in the long term.'

In the dank confines of the seter, Tanner and Sykes prepared for their reconnaissance mission. It was nearly half past ten. From their packs they took out the German uniforms they had captured several days earlier, and put on the tunics, wind jackets and field caps. Both men had lost their Mauser rifles at Tretten, but they took two from the Norwegians, as well as several rounds of ammunition. Their own uniforms and packs - including the explosives - they left with Lance Corporal Erwood and their men.

'Heil, mein Fiihrer!' said McAllister, standing up and performing a mock Nazi salute, one finger pressed above his lip.

Tanner laughed, then turned to Chevannes and the Norwegians. 'We'll be off, then, sir,' he said. 'We'll have a good look at the town, but then we'll head west down the lake and try to find a good crossing-place.'

'Yes,' said Chevannes. 'Now go.'

In the darkening light, they headed towards the valley, Tanner explaining his plan. It was nearly dark by the time they reached the lower slopes directly above the bridge into Vagamo, but there was still just light enough for them to study it sufficiently. Two stone pillars jutted out from the banks at either side, and across it there was a simple iron construction much like the bridges they had already seen in the Gudbrandsdal valley.

'What do you think, Stan?' said Tanner, from their position among the trees.

'It can be as strong as it likes,' he replied, 'but if it's got a wooden roadbed, we're going to be able to put it out of action. Simple as that.'

There were, they noted, just two guards on the bridge, both on the southern side. 'That'll make life easier,' said Tanner.

'What I want to know, Sarge, is why Jerry's here anyway.'

'Because of that road, I should think,' said Tanner. 'It gives them another line of advance north towards Andalsnes. And it might also be because they're hoping to catch us. But it's clear they're not using it yet. I've not seen any movement north.'

With the light now all but gone, they moved quietly away through the trees until they were a safe distance from the bridge, then dropped down on to the valley road. The night sky was clear. Millions of stars twinkled above, reflected in the inky darkness of the lake. A thin crescent moon stood high over the valley and, with the stars, cast a pale creamy light across the landscape, enabling the two men to see the shape of the road, the lake, the mountains.

A few miles to the west the road forked. 'Where's that lead?' whispered Sykes. 'I'm pretty sure back to Heidel and Sjoa,' said Tanner. 'It's quite a long way round, though.' He paused to study its approach, then the valley. He could no longer see the knoll in front of the seter.

They walked on a short way through the silence, the air cool and crisp, until they reached the small headland that projected into the lake. There was a farmstead, but a small wooden jetty too - and, as Tanner had hoped, a number of small boats.

It was a little after midnight. The dawn of a new day - and the last, he realized, of the month. Twelve days they'd been in Norway. It felt like eternity.

With the first streaks of dawn, theseter stirred into life. The dusty floor was hard and uncomfortable, and although the soldiers were used to sleeping wherever they had to, most had had enough rest over the past twenty-four hours to ensure they now slept only lightly. As they woke, they stumbled outside, some to urinate nearby, others to wander somewhat further. Since Anna had joined them they had been more careful about such things.

One of their number, an agent of the Sicherheitsdienst wandered away from the hut, safe in the knowledge that it was possible to break away from the others for a few minutes without arousing any suspicion whatsoever. At least, it was now that Sergeant Tanner and Corporal Sykes were away. It had been difficult during the past couple of days with them watching every move; they suspected someone, that was certain. But not me, the agent had decided. At any rate, with them out of the way for the time being, there was now a clear chance for him to send another signal.

Passing within clear sight of the sentry, the agent smiled - morning ablutions - and then headed into the woodland until the seter was out of sight. Finding as wide a tree as possible, the traitor squatted and took two small metal boxes from a haversack, both no more than five and a half inches long, four and a half wide. One was a transmitter, the other the accumulator. From a pocket, three leads were produced, each with crocodile clips. The agent attached the two boxes together, then turned a small black knob at the front of the transmitter until it clicked, causing a faint light within the box to glow. From another pocket, a long length of wire was produced, which was then connected to the back of the box with trembling fingers. This done, the person took the weighted end and threw it high into the tree above. With a hammering heart, the agent glanced round, even though it would have been possible to hear anyone approaching. Then a quick look back down at the transmitter. The light was glowing brighter now, as the valves warmed up. Half a minute more.

The agent prayed this message would get through. Instructions had been to send as many as was possible without jeopardizing the mission. The transmitter that was to be used was just that - a device for sending Morse signals - not a receiver. There was no way of telling whether the messages that had been sent had been read or not. Until the Stukas had arrived two days before, the agent had begun to think that the transmitter could not be working at all: a specific message from the Rostads' farm had been sent and several from the j0ra valley, yet despite troops arriving at Uksum Farm, they had made no attempt to act on his information.

'No one will suspect you,' Kurz had said, 'because we will swoop down and whisk Odin away before anyone has the chance.' Perhaps that would have been so, had it not been for Tanner and his men turning up. Tanner. The agent cursed him. Despite repeated efforts, the sergeant was still alive, still jeopardizing the mission. Thanks to Tanner, several golden opportunities for Odin to be captured had been foiled. Now perhaps all would be well. For once, the sergeant appeared to have let down his guard.

The agent leant back against the tree, eyes briefly closed, then checked the time once more. Nearly there, he thought. Just a few more seconds.

As soon as a minute had passed, the agent turned the middle knob to number seven, tuning the oscillator of the transmitter frequency, and then adjusted the aerial load, the last of the three knobs at the front of the tiny S108/10 transmitter, until the light was at its brightest. Taking a deep breath, the crouching figure held a still quavering finger above the Morse button and began to transmit.

Less than a minute later, the message was completed. Having rolled up the wire and put the boxes back into his pack, the agent stood up and walked steadily towards the seter.