The Odin Mission Read Free

have done for us.'
    Stig smiled, his earlier terror receding. Extreme relief, mixed with a
surge of adrenalin, gave him an almost exultant feeling. 'Head back a couple of
hundred metres, then cross the bridge over the Glama,' he told Gulbrand. 'The
road along the valley leads north-west and it's clear of snow.'
    The men hurried out of the barn to the open shed where the truck stood.
Throwing their packs into the back first, the younger guardsmen clambered in while
Gulbrand and the curious bespectacled man jumped into the cab. The engine
started immediately. Stig looked up at Larsen. 'Good luck,' he said. 'One day
you can come back and tell me all about it.'
    'Stig, thank you,' Larsen replied. 'Take good care of yourself. Look
after your family.'
    'I will.'
    Larsen gripped
the wooden stock of his rifle with one hand and clenched the side of the truck
with the other as they cautiously rumbled across the yard, then turned out onto
the road. As Stig had assured them, there was no sign of the Germans. Larsen
glanced back to the farmhouse one last time and saw his cousin wave, then step
back into the house.
    Gulbrand turned
the truck across the bridge, then right onto the valley road. On the other side
of the wide Glama river the village of Okset drifted into view between the
trees on the river's edge. Larsen could see, as the others could, the German
trucks by the church, and a dull ache churned once more in his belly. Surely,
he thought, they would be spotted. He could almost feel German field glasses
trained on them.
    A sickening feeling washed over him as it dawned on him with sudden
clarity that his cousin would be in trouble. He couldn't believe he had been
so stupid. Why had it not occurred to him at the time? Of course the Germans
would return to the farm, find the truck gone and put two and two together. Jesus , he thought. What have 1 done?
    Sitting opposite him, Lieutenant Nielssen grinned. He had taken off his
cloth field cap so that his fair hair was blown across his forehead. 'What are
the odds on when our friends in the Luftwaffe will appear?'
    'For Christ's sake,' muttered Stunde. He was the youngest of them, only
recently promoted to lieutenant.
    'Two to one says it'll be less than an hour.'
    In fact, it was half that time. They had not driven more than a dozen
miles when two Messerschmitt 110s were bearing down on them. No sooner had
Larsen seen two dots rapidly transform into wasp-like planes than rows of
bullets spat up lumps of soil behind them before catching up with the pick-up,
smashing one of the headlights from the front wings and puncturing the bonnet.
In seconds the aircraft were past, the two dark crosses on each wingtip vivid
against their pale, oil-streaked undersides. They watched the two fighters roar
onwards, then bank and turn.
    'Christ, look at the bonnet!' yelled Stunde. Larsen stood up and peered
over the cab at the huge tear from which steam was hissing.
    Gulbrand pulled the truck into the side of the road. 'Out, out, quick!'
he shouted.
    Grabbing their rucksacks, they leapt out and ran into the dense pine
forest that rose high above the valley. This time Larsen heard the clatter of
machine-gun bullets before the roar of the aircrafts' twin engines. Pressing
his head into the snow he felt an explosion followed by a surge of bright heat
as the truck exploded in a ball of flame. Shards of glass and metal rained
through the trees, and branches crackled as those closest to the inferno caught
fire. Larsen glanced at the colonel and saw him almost smothering the civilian,
Hening Sandvold.
    'Anyone hurt?' called Gulbrand. Miraculously, no one was. 'Good. Let's
get away from here.' He pulled out a map. 'We'll climb up into the mountains,
then cut across and join a road here.' He pointed.
    Larsen hauled himself up beside the colonel. Drops of melting snow from
the pines were falling around them. 'You knew they'd come back for Stig.'
    'It was inevitable,' he said. 'I'm sorry. He's a strong man,