The Oslo Affair (Shadows of War, #2) by CW Browning (read after .txt) 📗

expect? Yet, when her eyes met his, Evelyn got the distinct impression that she didn’t need to say anything. He completely understood.

“Of course, then you ended up in Scotland,” Miles continued, the twinkle back in his eyes. “So much for a life of excitement.”

Evelyn laughed. “Don’t underestimate the Scots.”

“Or the thrill of teaching your girls to plot,” he said with a wink. “I think I’ll miss you, Assistant Section Officer Ainsworth. I hope I shall hear from you.”

Evelyn raised her eyebrows. “Would you like me to write to you?”

“Every pilot likes to get letters from beautiful women. Bragging rights, y’know.” He finished his brandy and set the glass on the table next to the chair. “And I’d like to know how you get on in Scotland.”

“Then I’ll write,” she said easily. “But the first time you fail to answer, I’ll stop.”

“That’s a fair trade, in any event.”

Evelyn finished her wine, suddenly loathe to finish the evening and go up to bed. She was enjoying the easy companionship between them. But they both had an early start in the morning, and the reality of what they were both going back to settled over her.

“I don’t think I’ve ever been so happy to have an airplane malfunction on me,” Miles said, his voice quiet.

Her heart thumped and she met his eyes. “Me too.”

He smiled slowly and stood, holding his hand out to her.

“Perhaps I’ll find a reason to go to Scotland,” he said, helping her to her feet.

“I’d like that.”

Evelyn slipped her shoes back on and looked up at his handsome face. The gleam was back in his bright green eyes and his lips curved faintly.

“Would you?”

“Of course I would. If I can’t fly, reckless fighter pilots are the next best thing!”

Miles let out a bark of laughter. “In that case, I’ll make it a priority.”

She grinned and drank in the sight of him with his eyes alight with laughter and the attractive dent in his cheek. This was how she wanted to remember him: laughing at her with his eyes gleaming in that peculiar way that made her knees go weak. This was the memory she wanted to keep her warm at night in the coming weeks when there was no other warmth.

The laugh faded and Miles exhaled, his eyes meeting hers.

“You’ll be sure to write?”

She smiled and nodded. “I will.”

His eyes held hers and she felt something very like sorrow well up inside her. With a shock, she realized that the last thing in the world she wanted was to turn and walk out of the room and out of his life. But she knew that she must.

Turning, she went towards the door. What was she doing? She couldn’t just leave without saying goodbye, yet goodbye seemed so final. As if she would never see him again. Evelyn knew she would never be able to say it. But she couldn’t just walk away, either. She’d regret that more than anything.

She turned at the door and took a long, last look, memorizing every feature. She looked once again into his eyes and smiled wistfully.

“Take care of yourself, Miles.”

He nodded and then she was gone, closing the door softly behind her.

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Aberdeen, Scotland

November 1, 1939

Evelyn watched as Bill shouldered his way through the people thronging the narrow, dockside street. She was seated in the back of a black Vauxhall, waiting to board a ship bound for Oslo. If there were nerves, she was trying to very hard to ignore them. Instead, she was concentrating on the fact that the trip had been moved up unexpectedly, resulting in her leaving directly from Scotland rather than London as originally planned.

When her liaison officer on the RAF base in Scotland had come into her office yesterday morning, Evelyn had been expecting instructions to go to London. Instead, she was handed a train ticket to Aberdeen. When she’d arrived at the station an hour ago, Bill was waiting for her. Aside from saying that the timetable had been moved up, he’d been unusually quiet on the ride to the docks. Now, watching him make his way back to the car with a paper-wrapped package under his arm, she chewed her bottom lip thoughtfully. What had happened to make it imperative that she go to Norway a full two-weeks ahead of schedule?

He reached the car and climbed into the backseat next to her, handing her the paper-wrapped package.

“This is all your identification and press credentials,” he told her, closing the door. “You’ll be staying in a boarding house run by one of our agents, but you may need those to verify your identity while you’re going about the city.”

“Are we still going with Maggie Richardson?” she asked, opening the package and pulling out a bill-fold. Opening it, she found identification papers, press credentials for the Daily Mail in London, and over five hundred pounds in krone notes.

“Yes. That identity is established, and will work well in Oslo.” Bill glanced at his watch. “We have a few minutes before it’s time to board. I suppose you’re feeling rather confused.”

“A bit, yes.” Evelyn tucked the billfold into her bag. “Why the sudden rush?”

“Shustov contacted us through the embassy in Helsinki. His scheduled trip to Oslo was changed. He’s there now.” He passed her a business card. “When you arrive, you’ll check in with this contact at the embassy. Daniel Carew. He will let Shustov know that you’re in Oslo with a pre-arranged signal. Beyond that, Shustov refuses any and all other contact, so the assumption is that he will find you.”

“He’ll find me?” Evelyn stared at him. “I don’t even know what he looks like! How am I supposed to know it’s him?”

“That’s an excellent question, and he’s already provided the answer. When he does make contact with you, he’ll ask you how the weather was in London when you left.” He reached into the inside pocket of his coat and pulled out a small notebook. Flipping it open, he thumbed through until he reached