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

“I’m so sorry,” he apologized, bending at the same time as her to retrieve it. As he did so, she felt her purse begin to slip. Moving her arm quickly, she turned sideways as she reached for the slip of fabric on the floor. The swift movement prevented the bag from falling and spilling out all over the floor and she felt a measure of satisfaction at the very brief tightening of his lips. Of all the nerve! He was trying to get something from her purse!

Anna plucked the handkerchief off the floor and straightened up, a smile plastered across her face.

“It’s quite all right,” she told him, tucking it into her purse and snapping the bag closed with a firm click. “Thank you for returning it.”

She turned on her heel and continued to the door, leaving Renner standing in the middle of lobby watching her go. The two men inside the door looked at him for a moment, then resumed their conversation as she passed. She breathed a sigh of relief as she stepped outside into the gathering dusk a moment later.

A black sedan sat the curb, and as she exited the hotel, the driver got out and went to the back to open the trunk. He nodded to her politely as the porter went around her to load the bags into the car. Anna watched and smiled as the porter turned to return to the hotel.

“Tak,” she murmured.

He touched his cap in acknowledgment and Anna waited for the driver to open the door for her.

“The train station, please,” she told him as she got in, making sure her voice carried to the man lurking in the shadows a few feet away. “Quickly.”

“Yes miss.”

The driver closed the door and Anna glanced out the window as he got behind the wheel again. As they pulled away from the hotel, she saw the man rush from the shadows into the hotel and she sat back in the seat. A smile curved her lips. They would take the bait. They had no choice. She was their only link to Maggie. They would have to follow her.

Anna looked at her watch in the fading light. Timing. It was everything. She waited a few blocks then, when the hand on her watch ticked to the quarter hour, she looked up.

“Could you stop just up here for a moment?” she asked cheerfully. “I need to drop something off. I won’t be a minute.”

“Of course.”

The driver turned the corner where she indicated, pulling up behind a gray sedan already parked by the side of the road. As he eased to a stop, the back door of the other car opened and tall, young man emerged. Anna opened her door and got out, walking forward to meet him while her driver climbed out from behind the steering wheel again.

“Mr. Manchester?” she asked in surprise.

He shook his head. “No. I’m Collins, his assistant. He sent me to collect the baggage.”

She nodded and turned to the driver who was standing discreetly at slight distance.

“Could you open the back, please?”

He nodded and went to the back of the car, opening the truck. Collins joined him and motioned to Anna.

“Which ones?” he asked.

“The two on the right, and the small toiletries case.”

He collected the bags and transferred them to the gray sedan, then walked back to hold out his hand.

“Mr. Manchester extends his deepest gratitude,” he told her quietly. “He hopes you didn’t find it all too unpleasant.”

Anna laughed and took his hand. “On the contrary! I’m enjoying myself immensely!”

He looked startled at that, then a slow smile crossed his face.

“Have a safe trip home, Miss Salvesen,” he said, dropping his hand and touching his hat. “Please take all care. Daniel Carew will have all of us on a rack if anything happens to you. He’s threatening all sorts of reprisals if you don’t return safely.”

“I’ll be careful,” she assured him, turning to get back into her car. “Send him a message and tell him I said to stop being an old woman. I’ll be just fine.”

Comrade Grigori looked up when the lift opened and a tall, dark-haired woman walked out. A porter followed, carrying multiple bags, and Grigori was just lowering his eyes back to his newspaper when something made him look again. He frowned, watching the woman thoughtfully. She looked familiar, but he really couldn’t place why. Had he seen her earlier? In the restaurant perhaps? Whoever she was, she was obviously checking out of the hotel.

The woman was halfway across the lobby now and, as she walked, she tossed her head in a peculiar sideways motion. Grigori inhaled sharply. He’d seen her in another hotel, in Oslo! It was that strange toss of the head that brought the memory back. She had been with the Englishwoman that night in the restaurant!

Folding the paper, he got up and started to cross the lobby towards her just as another tall man moved out from behind one of the columns. Grigori’s step checked and he raised an eyebrow as the man followed the woman to the desk, stopping a few feet away. At first glance, he appeared to be just another guest awaiting service at the busy concierge desk, but Comrade Grigori knew a German SD agent when he saw one. This was no ordinary guest.

He turned his eyes back to the woman, his frown deepening. If the SD were watching her, there could only be one explanation: they were watching the Englishwoman as well.

Moving closer, he listened as the woman spoke to the concierge in clear, carrying tones. She was speaking in Swedish, which wasn’t one of Grigori’s stronger languages. Yet he was able to make out enough to realize that the Englishwoman wouldn’t be returning to the hotel.

Irritation rolled through him and he glanced at the German listening a few feet away. He supposed he had the SD to thank for this. As usual, they had blundered into something they knew nothing about and, in