Night Falls on Norway Read online

  Night Falls on Norway

  ––––––––

  CW Browning

  ––––––––

  About Night Falls on Norway

  In the spring of 1940, all of Europe knows the war is about to explode. The only question is where.

  When MI6 sends Evelyn Ainsworth back to Oslo, no one expects any complications, least of all Evelyn herself. With her identity locked down and her section classified, both her location and her mission are secure.

  Or so they thought.

  After months of inactivity and scattered warnings across Europe, Hitler finally moves, but not in the direction everyone expects. With tensions between England and Norway rising, the Führer seizes the opportunity to send an invasion force north – straight into Norway.

  Trapped in Oslo and facing an advancing German army, Evelyn embarks on a desperate flight to escape the infamous SS. But a deadly foe is right behind her and, as time runs out, she must rely on others to get her out alive...

  ...or fall victim to the horrors of a war that has well and truly begun.

  Author’s Note:

  When reading and watching dramatizations of the events that took place in World War Two, the focus is almost always universally centered around Europe, Southeast Asia and the United States. While there are some exceptions to this, the number of stories that involve the European theatre of war far outnumber those that address other areas. In my opinion, one of those neglected areas is Norway.

  In planning where to go next in the Shadows of War series, I decided to try to highlight both the importance of this small nation in the war, and also the struggles the Norwegian people faced leading into their occupation. Their story is, I believe, one worth telling. While this book doesn’t even begin to scratch the surface of the experiences of the Norwegian people during that dark time, my hope is that it brings awareness to their struggle. Norway was a small nation, often overlooked in history and world politics, but as the war progressed they soon proved that they were a mighty one where it counted the most: in their people.

  Table of Contents

  Night Falls on Norway

  Author’s Note:

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Epilogue

  Author’s Notes

  About the Author

  Note from Author:

  “We will not submit voluntarily. The struggle is already underway.”

  ~ Norwegian Foreign Affairs Minister Halvdan Koht, April 9, 1940

  Prologue

  Berlin, Germany

  Obersturmbannführer Hans Voss turned from the window as the door opened and a man strode in. He clicked his heels smartly and raised his hand in salute.

  “Heil Hitler!”

  “Heil Hitler,” the man replied, waving him to a seat as he strode towards a large, heavy wooden desk, stripping off his leather gloves. “My apologies for keeping you waiting. It’s good to see you, Obersturmbannführer Voss. How was Prague?”

  “As we expected, Standartenführer Dreschler,” Voss replied, crossing to an armchair placed at an angle before the desk. “The traitors are all detained, with the exception of one. I expect to have him in custody within twenty-four hours.”

  “That is fantastic news, Obersturmbannführer.” Dreschler tossed his gloves into his hat, placed it on the desk, and seated himself. He leaned back and regarded Voss for a moment. “I would say that you didn’t have to come straight from the station to give me the news, but that’s not why you’re here, is it?”

  Hans Voss smiled faintly and shook his head. “No, Standartenführer.”

  Dreschler nodded and leaned forward to unlock a drawer in his desk.

  “I assumed as much. Anticipated it, in fact.” He pulled out a sheet of paper and laid it on the desk, closing and re-locking the drawer. “You want to know about Operation Nightshade.”

  “Yes, Standartenführer. It’s been over a month since I proposed it. I’d like to know where we stand.”

  Dreschler sat back in his chair again, studying him.

  “Your proposal goes directly against the wishes of the high command. You know that.”

  “Yes, Standartenführer.”

  “I won’t deny that when I read it I was pleased to see that you’re not afraid to voice your opinion,” Dreschler admitted. “The Abwehr is incompetent, and their methods are naive. We all know this. True intelligence can only be gained by getting your hands dirty. They try to work from a distance.”

  “I’m sure they will have many successes in the war, but the female British agent will not be one of them,” Hans said. “She is too smart for them. And too dangerous. She’s already shown that she won’t hesitate to attack men larger and stronger herself.”

  “And in so doing, she made an enemy of you.”

  “And of every honorable SD soldier. She must not be allowed to continue. The Abwehr will not be able to contain her.”

  “And you will?”

  The smile that crossed his face was chilling.

  “I welcome the chance.”

  Dreschler nodded and pressed his lips together thoughtfully.

  “I don’t doubt you. And, if you are able to hunt this agent down and bring her in, you will have done your duty to Germany, and to Himmler and the SS.” He regarded him for a moment in silence. “You will also have interfered with the work of the Abwehr after being expressly forbidden to do so. You will have defied a direct order. You realize, of course, that that carries severe penalties? And that what you propose will cause an uproar from Admiral Canaris if you fail?”

  “I won’t fail, Standartenführer.”

  “You had your chance in November, and failed. Why should I believe you now? What’s changed?”

  “I’ve had ample time to consider how best to proceed,” Voss said slowly. “In November, we were unaware of a few things that have since come to our attention. While that is hardly an excuse for Sturmbannführer Renner’s misjudgment, it does give us an edge that we didn’t have then.”

  “Yes, I read your proposal. I saw the new intelligence. But that doesn’t explain why you think you can succeed this time.”

  “It’s very simple, Standartenführer. I’ll succeed because I will be undertaking it myself.”

  Dreschler chuckled. “You’re always so modest and humble, Obersturmbannführer Voss!”

&n
bsp; Hans was betrayed into a quick smile. “The Führer values confidence, does he not?”

  “Indeed he does,” Dreschler acknowledged, “as do I. And you certainly do not lack it.” He tilted his head and grew serious. “But all the confidence in the world won’t save you if this operation fails. You understand? I won’t be able to shield you from Himmler’s wrath.”

  Hans nodded. “I understand, Standartenführer.”

  Dreschler studied him intently for a long moment, then nodded once and sat forward. He picked up a pen and scrawled his signature on the bottom of the single sheet.

  “Your operation is approved, Obersturmbannführer Voss,” he said, setting the pen down. “Operation Nightshade will commence immediately. There will be no record of it anywhere.” He picked up the sheet of paper and got up, walking around the desk to hand it to Hans. “Read it carefully. This is the only copy of the order. I want to be very clear about what is expected.”

  Hans took the paper and read it through silently. After a moment, he nodded and handed it back.

  “I understand completely, Standartenführer.”

  “Good.” Dreschler crossed the room to a large painting of Adolf Hitler and touched an invisible clasp on the edge. The painting clicked and he pulled it away from the wall, revealing a hidden safe. “Should the operation fail, this order will be destroyed and no one will ever know of its existence. If you succeed, the Führer himself will know of your accomplishment, and you will be rewarded accordingly.”

  Hans watched as the order was locked away in the safe, a deep sense of satisfaction going through him. When he succeeded, his rise into the senior command would be assured.

  And the British agent they knew only as Rätsel would be crushed.

  Chapter One

  ––––––––

  RAF Northolt, England

  January, 1940

  Evelyn Ainsworth watched with a grimace as the latest WAAF recruits piled out of a bus in front of the dormitories. The chattering group of women was loud, and they were dressed in a variety of clothing, all wholly inappropriate for an RAF base boasting fighter squadrons. For that matter, some of the frocks were inappropriate for any military base, and most London nightclubs as well.

  “Inspecting your new fledgling chicks?”

  Evelyn started when a male voice spoke behind her and she turned with a laugh. Before her stood a young man dressed in uniform with a leather pilots jacket slung carelessly over his shoulders, his sparkling blue eyes dancing with unbridled amusement as he peered into the distance.

  “They’re not mine, thank heavens,” she said. “I can’t even begin to imagine how I’d deal with that.”

  “They’re a jolly lot, aren’t they?” he asked, grinning at the group in the distance. “Good Lord, is that one wearing high heeled sandals?”

  Evelyn bit back a gurgle of laughter. The day she met Flying Officer Fred Durton, he’d almost run her over on a bicycle. As an apology, he’d taken her out for a drink at the local pub. That was almost two weeks ago now, and she hadn’t been rid of him since. Looking up at him now, she shook her head. In truth, she’d grown quite fond of the Hurricane pilot.

  “Yes, and they won’t last five minutes.”

  Fred grinned down at her. “More’s the pity. Where are you off too?”

  “I’m on my way to my office to collect my post,” she said, turning to continue towards the short, squat building that housed her office. “Then I’m going to the mess for dinner.”

  Fred fell into step beside her.

  “Come out to dinner with me instead,” he said. “I’ve discovered a delightful little pub about twenty minutes from here. We’ll go there.”

  Evelyn glanced at him. “I have a meeting at seven.”

  He waved the comment away. “Don’t worry, Assistant Section Officer. I’ll have you back in time. I’ll pick you up out front here in ten minutes.”

  Evelyn started up the shallow steps to the door of the building, then paused and turned to look at him.

  “Have you fixed the door on your car yet?” she asked suspiciously.

  He grinned and winked. “’Course I have.”

  Turning, he strode off, whistling cheerfully. Fred drove a beaten up mass of metal, rubber and glass that had been, at one time, a Vauxhall. On the occasion of her last outing in the car, the passenger side door had fallen off when she opened it at the end of the night. After they had finished laughing, Fred had gone off to snatch some heavy twine used on the airplanes from the supply hut. Ten minutes later, the door was tied back on and he had continued on to his bachelor quarters on the other side of the base.

  She continued up the steps now, shaking her head with a reluctant chuckle. Fred Durton was a rascal and playboy, but she really did thoroughly enjoy his company.

  And if he had fixed his door, she’d eat her hat.

  Evelyn sat across from Fred at a small corner table in a crowded and noisy pub. They’d arrived ahead of the evening rush and Fred had snagged the table before she could blink. All the rest of the tables filled up within minutes of them sitting down, making her very grateful for his speed and foresight.

  Lifting a gin and tonic to her lips, she smiled as she looked at him. He was attracting quite a bit of attention from the local women in his uniform with the wings sewn above the breast pocket. Then again, he always did. Evelyn had wondered more than once why he kept asking her out when he knew full well that she wasn’t interested in any kind of romantic relationship, but he did. And she enjoyed herself too much to decline.

  Fred finished lighting his cigarette and tucked his lighter into his breast pocket, smiling at her.

  “Do you know what I’ve been trying to figure out?” he asked, reaching for his pint. “What do you do, actually?”

  Evelyn shrugged. “I’ve told you. I train WAAFs.”

  “Yes, but I never see you actually talking to any of them,” he said. “Don’t you like them?”

  “Of course I do! You’re just never around when any of my students are.” She swallowed and glanced around the pub. “And besides, the majority of my trainees are at other stations. You know that. However did you find this place? It’s absolutely jam-packed.”

  “I told you it would be. They pour an outstanding pint, and the food is fantastic. You’ll see.” Fred set down his glass. “And don’t think I don’t realize what you just did. You really don’t like talking about your work, do you?”

  She looked at him ruefully. “It’s not a matter of liking or not liking. I can’t talk about my work. I’ve told you.”

  “Yes, yes, I know. Top secret and all that.” He tilted his head and studied her, his blue eyes dancing. “You don’t look very top secret.”

  “Don’t I? And what does top secret look like?”

  “Like something I wouldn’t look twice at,” he said promptly. “Very well. You keep your secrets, Assistant Section Officer. I won’t promise not to try to discover them, though.”

  “Well that’s fair, at any rate.”

  “You said your brother flies? Where is he?”

  “He’s stationed at Duxford,” Evelyn said, relieved at the change of subject. “He flies Spitfires.”

  Fred brightened noticeably.

  “Does he? Now that’s a jolly nice kite. I’d love to jump in one of those and take it up. I’ve heard they’re terribly fast and handle like a dream.”

  “He loves it.”

  “How long has he been at Duxford?”

  “Since last summer. His squadron has been doing much the same as you: constantly training.”

  “And I’ll bet they’re getting bloody tired of it as well.” Fred made a face. “And now the weather’s gone and turned beastly. It’s bloody cold up there, you know. For that matter, it’s jolly cold down here, too. I thought my propellers were going to freeze up today.”

  “Is that possible?”

 
He grinned. “Not the faintest idea!”

  Evelyn chuckled despite herself. “Miles did write that his windshield had ice on it the other day.”

  Fred raised his eyebrows and pounced on that.

  “Miles? Oho! And who might that be? I thought you said your brother’s name was Ron.”

  “Rob,” she corrected him with a laugh. “It is.”

  “Then who is this mysterious Miles?”

  “There’s nothing mysterious about him. He flies with my brother.”

  “Mm-hmm.” Fred nodded knowingly. “And now the great riddle is solved.”

  “What great riddle?”

  “Why you, of course!” He leaned forward. “I knew you were hiding something. So, go on. Spill it. How long have you been seeing Miles?”

  “Oh for heaven’s sake!” Evelyn laughed and reached for her drink. “Don’t be absurd. Just because we exchange letters doesn’t mean a thing.”

  “Is that so?” He grinned. “All right. If you want to pretend, we’ll pretend. But I know, Evelyn. I’ve seen that particular look in a woman’s eyes before, more’s the pity, and I know what it means.”

  “And what does it mean?”

  “That I’ve got my work cut out for me. I give you fair warning, I intend to fight. All’s fair, y’know, and all that.”

  She shook her head, unable to keep the laugh off her lips.

  “Warning acknowledged, but I still think you’re being absurd. Just because I don’t think you’re the be all and end all of my existence, it doesn’t necessarily follow that there’s someone else.”

  Fred winced comically. “Ouch! You’re awfully brutal tonight.”

  “You deserved it.”

  “There’s a party at the CO’s next weekend for all the officers,” he said. “That includes the WAAF officers, of course. Will I see you there?”

  “I don’t know.”

  Fred looked at her, amused. “Don’t you top secrets fraternize? Don’t worry. The other pilots aren’t as irresistible as yours truly. You won’t be tempted to stray from your Spitfire pilot.”