“In the ski cap, Captain…?”
“Yes, that’s the one. Lieutenant, take three men and make your way to the wheelhouse. Wait there. Keep your weapons ready. If you see that man, or any who come up there who look at all threatening, sound the alarm. And don’t be afraid to use your weapons.”
“Yes, sir,” the lieutenant said, saluting.
“Sergeant, you take the bow, I’ll drift aft. Together, we’ll keep an eye on him. Take note of anyone he talks to. But don’t arrest him just yet. Wait for my move.”
“Yes, Captain.” The officer snapped his heels.
Lund stepped away from the railing. His blood was soaring. He finally had him. The man he’d been sniffing after for a year.
And his senses told him that something big had to be happening.
77
It was Lund.
Nordstrum was certain of it. His throat grew dry and his blood came to a stop, though his heart continued to pound riotously.
And he felt equally certain Lund had spotted him too.
He let his gaze brush by the Hird as nonchalantly as he could, but inside, everything sped up. Had Lund recognized him? He couldn’t be sure. No doubt the Hirden captain was here because of the shipment the ferry was carrying. But he was also the man who had thrown his father in a prison cell, and then sent him off to the Grini concentration camp, which the Quisling knew the old man could never survive.
Nordstrum turned his back to the top deck. If he’d been recognized it was already too late. There were dozens of Germans and Hirden onboard. He couldn’t avoid them all if Lund had already signaled the alarm. Any second he expected to hear whistles sounded and the bustle of soldiers pushing through the crowd with their guns drawn, shouting, “On your knees!” What would he do? Shoot them? That would only signal to everyone that something was up. Break free and dive into the lake? When nothing else would follow they might well continue the journey. He reached into his pocket.
Was it time to finally take his pill?
But nothing came. He stood there waiting for the worst. Even if they did apprehend him, it was too late to stop it. The ferry was chugging across the lake, its engines building up to cruising speed. Nordstrum decided he would have to avoid the man at all costs. He checked his watch. Twenty minutes to go. He pulled his cap farther down over his eyes, racking his brain for what to do. He would not be captured. That he swore. Not before warning Natalie. That was why he was here. But he had to stay concealed. Lund had a dozen Hirden onboard—and no less than forty Germans. What if his presence made them suspicious and they directed the Hydro back to the dock? The charges would go off, but the ship would not sink in the shallow water. The heavy water would not be destroyed. And Natalie and her grandfather would still be on board.
No, the only answer was to continue the journey. He had to stay out of sight and delay as long as possible.
Then again, if Lund hadn’t spotted him, the best thing was to remain in the crowd until a few minutes before the explosion. Showing himself to Natalie too soon would only attract attention, for he would have to explain why he was here and what was going on, which would surely start a panic.
Nordstrum took out a cigarette and lit it in the wind.
So if he had been spotted, why had they not arrested him? The answer, as he ratcheted through the possibilities, had to be because Lund wanted to see if Nordstrum was part of some larger plot. If he had friends onboard who had something planned. The most logical time to attack would be at their arrival in Tinnoset. Even Lund would not assume they had snuck aboard during the night and charges were set. If so, why would he, Nordstrum, be back on board? Therefore he had to assume that every move he made now would be under observation. And he would have to make his escape in the confusion after the bomb exploded.
Calmly, he took a drag off his cigarette and cast a quick glance up toward the top deck.
Lund had disappeared.
78
Nordstrum’s chest grew tight. Was this a good or bad sign? Perhaps they were on the way to arrest him now.
He glanced at his watch. Eighteen minutes.
He opened his ski jacket and loosened his gun inside. If it was Lund who came for him he would make sure he at least evened the score. He took a look at the mountains. The blue of the lake cast an opalescent brilliance against them. They were a beautiful sight. Not the worst way, if it ended here, he managed a smile, for him to go out. But there was still work to be done. He had risked it all for one purpose, so he flicked his cigarette into the Tinnsjo and edged his way through the throng of those who were still on deck. Many had now begun to head inside to their respective quarters. No one intercepted him. Perhaps he was in luck; he hadn’t been spotted after all. He went to the first-class lounge.
“Ticket, please.” An attendant in a navy crew uniform came up to him with a suspicious look at Nordstrum’s attire.
Nordstrum showed him his slip.
“I’m sorry, sir, this is third class. Your lounge is downstairs. You’re not permitted in here.”
“I’m only looking for someone,” Nordstrum assured him. He peered through the glass door windows. “Herr and Fraulein Ritter? An old man and his granddaughter.”
“Ritter…? Well, I’m afraid you’ll have to look below,” the attendant said. “That’s the way it is. Or out on deck. I don’t think they’re in here.”
“All right. Thanks.” Nordstrum couldn’t make them out inside the lounge. Sit in the stern. He hoped she had listened to him.
Fifteen minutes now. Still too soon.
The Hydro was now streaming along at ten knots.
He ducked inside the men’s toilet and locked the door. He would wait inside until 10:35, he decided. Then he would find Natalie on deck. He knew they were onboard. He pulled up his sweater and checked his Colt. He decided he was prepared to die, if that’s what was in store; he had certainly been lucky to get this far. But to die onboard without seeing Natalie…? Without alerting her? That would break his heart. Think with your head, Einar had warned him, not that silly heart you seem to be growing. What a laugh he would have now. Today Einar would check in to the hospital, grasping his side. Wouldn’t it be funny, Nordstrum felt himself grin, if the doctor opened him up tomorrow and said, “I don’t know what the problem is, sir. You don’t even have an appendix!”
Suddenly there was a knock at the door.
“Yes. In a minute.” Nordstrum ran the water.
It could be Lund with a gun on the other side.
If so, this was the way it would be. Did he have any better hope when he crawled through that drain duct to get to the high-concentration room at Vemork? He turned off the water, put a hand under his sweater around his gun, and flicked the lock.
He said a prayer to his father and mother as he opened the door.
A man and his young son were standing there. “Sorry, emergency,” the man said.