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

“He’s still breathing,” he announced, glancing up at Renner. “Looks like his nose was broken.”

Renner stared down at the man, then raised his gaze to look around the dark alley. The anger intensified.

“I think we now know how Miss Salvesen got into the hotel,” he said, his voice harsh.

“But who did this?” Otto demanded, standing. “A woman couldn’t do this.”

Renner looked down at Franz consideringly. “So you’d think,” he murmured.

“What?”

Headlights illuminated the mouth of the alley as a black car pulled into the narrow lane.

“Nothing.” Renner turned to look back at the door as the others emerged into the alley. “Get Franz into the car. We can’t leave him here. He’ll have to go with you.”

“Where are we going?”

“To the train station,” Renner said shortly, walking towards the car. “I’ll instruct Helmut. Get Franz up. Have one of them help you.”

“What about you? We all won’t fit in the car.”

“I’ll follow in my own,” he said over his shoulder. “Schnell! She already has a five-minute head start!”

Otto started to lift Franz off the ground and one of the others came forward quickly to help him. While they struggled with the dead weight, the others hurried to the car. Renner watched them, then bent down to speak to the driver.

“Go to the train station. You’re looking for a black sedan, number AB-504. Otto can help. He was standing right next to it.”

The man nodded. “And when I find it?”

“Don’t let it out of your sight.”

Chapter Twenty-Five

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Paris, France

Bill looked up as a knock fell on the door. Calling for them to come in, he slid the sheet of paper he was reading smoothing under a folder. He watched as Wesley Fitch, his assistant, entered carrying a tray with a teapot, two teacups, and a stack of correspondence.

“Afternoon,” he said cheerfully, closing the door behind him. “I have good news, sir.”

Bill sat back in his chair and stretched.

“Good. I could use some,” he said. “What is it?”

“Topper made it out of Poland at last and is in Zürich,” Wesley told him, carrying the tray over and setting it down on a side table near the desk. “He should be in London in two days, at the latest.”

“That is good news!” Bill stood up and walked over to where Wesley was pouring tea into the cups. “Any word on whether or not he’s injured?”

“No. The message was only that he made it out and arrived in Zürich this morning.” Wesley turned to hand him a full cup of tea. “I’ve already sent a message to London to let them know.”

“Thank you.” Bill took the cup and turned to go back to his seat. “I’ll need to go back to London. Make the arrangements, will you? The first available flight in the morning, I think.”

“Shall I book for Mrs. Buckley as well?”

Bill sipped his tea before setting the cup and saucer down. “Not this time. I think she’s enjoying being back in France. She won’t want to leave again so soon.”

Wesley nodded and picked up the stack of correspondence, carrying it over to him.

“Here are today’s transmissions and briefings,” he said. “There’s one from Sir Jasper there. You may want to look at that first.”

Bill took the stack and began sorting through it as Wesley went back to pour tea into the other cup. The brief silence in the office was broken by another knock at the door and Bill looked up in surprise.

“Come in!”

The door opened and one of the radio operators rushed in breathlessly.

“Excuse me, sir, but you wanted to know as soon as I received word from Stockholm,” he gasped.

Bill raised his eyebrows sharply and nodded, taking in the operators disheveled appearance. It looked as though he had run all the way from the radio room three floors above.

“Take a minute and catch your breath, Corporal. Another thirty seconds won’t make much difference, now will it?”

Wesley turned with his tea and sipped it, leaning against the side table and watching the radio operator curiously. The air of barely controlled excitement was palpable and he glanced at his boss to find him sitting back in his chair, waiting patiently for the young man to catch his breath.

“Sorry, sir,” the young man said after a moment. “I just wanted to get the news to you as quickly as possible. Horace Manchester sent a message from the embassy.”

He walked over to the desk and handed Bill a sealed communication, then returned to his place a few feet away as Bill opened it and quickly scanned the contents.

RECEIVED MESSAGE FROM JIAN. NEEDS EMERGENCY EVACUATION. ARRANGED PASSAGE ON MERCHANT SHIP SS STORRA LEAVING TONIGHT FOR DENMARK.

Bill exhaled, relief pouring through him.

“Excellent. Thank you, Corporal. Was there anything else?”

“No, sir.”

“Very well. Let me know if anything else comes through.”

Bill watched the radio operator leave the room, closing the door again, and looked at Wesley.

“Manchester’s arranged passage for Jian on a merchant ship leaving Stockholm tonight,” he said. “The SS Storra. It sails for Denmark. Find out where she docks and when she’ll get in.”

Wesley nodded and set down his cup and saucer, but Bill made a clucking noise and waved his hand.

“Finish your tea,” he said. “Ten minutes won’t make any difference. Who do we have in Copenhagen?”

Wesley thought for a moment. “Isn’t that Pierson, sir?”

Bill frowned. “Is it? Good Lord. Well, he’ll have to do. Once you find out when the ship will arrive, contact him and arrange for him to meet Jian. He’ll have to get her from Copenhagen to...God, where’s the most accessible port for one of our ships to retrieve her?”

Wesley smiled and turned to walk over to a wall map currently displaying Poland.

“Don’t you remember your geography, sir?” he asked over his shoulder with a chuckle. “You really should. You run agents all over Europe.”

“Don’t get cheeky with me,” Bill said without heat, reaching for his cup. “When you reach my age, you’ll realize some trivia isn’t worth holding on to when there