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

of her faults. She faced down two Security Service agents in Strasbourg without blinking. She does not overreact.”

Jasper sat back in his chair slowly, his eyes never leaving Bill’s face.

“You think someone leaked her location overseas,” he stated rather than asked.

“It’s the only thing that makes sense.”

Jasper exhaled, shaking his head.

“You realize what you’re saying?” he demanded, his voice low. “The number of people who know our agents’ identities is so limited that what you’re suggesting is—”

“Someone in London is passing information on,” Bill finished calmly, reaching for his pint again. “Yes. That’s precisely what I’m suggesting.”

Jasper was silent for a long time before he reached for the whiskey and soda near his plate.

“You realize that’s damn near impossible?” he finally asked.

“Unlikely, but far from impossible,” Bill corrected him.

“Impossible,” Jasper repeated with more force. “Damn it, man, we’ve rounded up all the German agents in London. You know this! They were all interned within a month of war being declared, with the exception of one, who is working with us.”

“I realize that.”

Jasper stared at him, his face grim. “You’d better think very carefully about what you say next,” he warned softly.

Bill made a face and opened his mouth, then closed it abruptly as the waiter came into view carrying a tray with his lunch. An uneasy silence fell over the table as the two men waited for the food to be placed before Bill.

“Put your hackles down, Jasper,” Bill said as soon as the waiter had gone. “There are other possibilities besides a mole in Whitehall, although I think it would be a gross misjudgment on our part to dismiss that out of hand.”

“What other possibilities?” he asked, ignoring the latter part of the statement.

Bill picked up his knife and fork and began to cut into his fish.

“Have you forgotten why Jian was sent to Oslo in the first place?” he asked, glancing up. “It wasn’t to meet with German scientists.”

Jasper’s lips tightened.

“You think there are Soviet agents in London?”

“It’s not beyond the realm of possibility. MI6 went after known German sympathizers and uncovered cells of German agents throughout London. What about the Soviets?”

“We haven’t found any indication that—”

“Yes, yes, I know,” Bill cut him off hastily. “I know the facts. All I’m saying is that someone knows we have an agent in Oslo, and they know exactly who it is. That information came from somewhere, and I’m willing to stake my career that it wasn’t from something Jian did herself.”

“And if it wasn’t, then we have a bigger problem on our hands,” Jasper finished for him.

Bill was silent and Jasper exhaled again, pushing his half-eaten lunch away.

“You have one hell of a way of disrupting a perfect good afternoon, Bill.” He rubbed his forehead and reached for his drink again. “What do you suggest? Pull her back?”

“Absolutely not. Shustov won’t meet with anyone else. Besides, she wouldn’t come.”

“What makes you say that? If she’s ordered back...”

“She made it clear in the message Carew forwarded this morning.” Bill looked up from his lunch and something close to a grin was on his lips. “She says she has the situation under control.”

“Under control? What does that mean?”

“It means she has a plan. And I can say with some confidence that that plan does not include coming back just yet.”

Oslo, Norway

The bell above the door jingled as the man went into the tobacconist’s shop and the owner looked up from where he was helping another gentleman, nodding with a smile.

“I’ll be right with you, sir.”

The man nodded back and went over to stand near the counter, picking up a newspaper. He flipped through it while he waited, looking up occasionally to glance out the store front window. It was early, and he was wasting some time before going to the embassy. The English agent hadn’t left the boarding house this morning and, after waiting for over an hour, he determined that she wasn’t going to. At least, not before he had to go in and give his report. He had left his post across the street from the house, confident in the knowledge that he would catch up with her later in the day.

The shop owner finished up with his customer and turned to the man. “And what can I get for you today?” he asked cheerfully.

“I’d like a can of the original blend,” the man said, moving over to the counter and setting the paper down. “And the newspaper, please.”

“Of course.” The shop owner turned to pull down a can of tobacco from a shelf behind the counter. “It’s a lovely day outside, isn’t it?”

“Yes, it is. Very nice.”

The owner rang up the tobacco and reached under the counter to pull something out.

“I think you’ll enjoy this,” he said, putting the can into a bag and taking the money the man held out. “It’s a particularly smooth blend.”

“Yes. I’ve had it before.”

The shop owner made change, passing it back along with an additional slip of paper.

“Enjoy your day.”

The man palmed the paper and change and turned away from the counter with a nod. A moment later, the bell jingled again and he stepped out into the sunshine. After glancing to his left, he turned and walked to his right along the street until he reached the top where it intersected with Drammensveien. Turning left, he started down the road, reaching into his coat pocket to pull out the slip of paper. He unfolded it and scanned the message inside, pausing next to a trashcan on the pavement. After reading the message, he crumpled it in his hand and tossed it into the can before continuing down the street.

He never once looked back. A moment later, a few yards behind him, a woman reached into the trashcan as she passed, plucking the crumpled paper out and shoving it into her coat pocket without breaking stride.

The man continued down the long road, oblivious to what had happened behind him, his stride steady. The sun shone brightly over the city and