“You can see the gun they left over there for yourself, Herr General.…” The chief engineer, Larsen, pointed to the discarded Thompson submachine gun, doing his best to deflect the heat from his man. “And the explosives manual…” It had been charred in the blast but still had the British insignia on it and was written in English.
“I do see them.” Rediess looked at the engineer. “And I’ve seen the gate near the railway tracks and the footprints in the snow leading to the gorge.”
“With all due respect, Herr General…” The NS police captain, Lund, stepped forward. “I do not believe myself the people who committed this act were, in fact, British. Or at least, it had to have been accomplished with significant local support.”
“I am listening, Captain,” the Gestapo general said, surprised to hear a Norwegian who could think for himself. Usually, they did nothing in this country but back each other up to the bitter end.
“First, sir, to have gained access to the building through the pipe duct, they would have to have received inside knowledge. Former Chief Engineer Brun is the likely source. He is thought to be in England now, as you know, with the previous head of the plant, that traitor Leif Tronstad. Second, there are mines set throughout the plant’s grounds. To make their way up here, not from the bridge or from down the cliffs, but from the gorge—only someone with a keen knowledge of the local terrain would even attempt such a feat.”
“I agree with you completely, Captain Lund.” The Gestapo chief stepped up to him. “Keep going.”
Lund knew this was the only chance he had to turn disaster into opportunity, if he could play his cards right. “Thank you, sir. Third, the likelihood is the saboteurs came together from up on the vidda. Over the past week, there have been severe storms up there. In such conditions, familiarity with the terrain would not simply be an asset, Herr General, it would be essential. In my view, I am sad to say that only Northmen could have pulled this off. And only ones familiar with the region, down to the smallest detail.”
Rediess betrayed a knowing smile, his suspicions confirmed. “Anything more?”
“Lastly, in spite of what the night watchman claims, Herr General, I believe we are looking for more than four saboteurs. Four, perhaps, to enter the plant and set the charges … But others would have to have been watching over the guard hut in the case the guards became alerted.”
“Yes, I believe you are right on that.” The Gestapo man nodded. Rediess knelt and picked up the charred British explosives manual and tapped it in his hand. “And on the supposition that you are right, if you were these people, where would you be headed now?”
“To the safety of the huts and cabins spread out over the vidda. And then to Sweden, I suspect. But it is also possible that some who helped them have remained behind. Or worse, they are part of the local community, right under our noses, and a threat to continued danger.”
“I agree again, Captain. It’s as I’ve been saying. And as such, you will order an immediate sweep of the entire area,” Rediess declared. “Colonel Rausch…”
The officer in charge of the Rjukan garrison snapped to attention. “Yes, Herr General.”
“We have three thousand men in the area. Planes. Armored vehicles. Wireless direction-finding locators. Why are they not mobilized yet? The Swedish border is roughly three hundred and fifty kilometers away. These criminals cannot go undetected forever. What is the delay?”
“Again, if I may, sir.” Lund stepped forward. “I’m afraid we won’t catch them on skis. In fact, if one of the persons involved is the man I am thinking of, we may never find them. And in camouflage suits, even a reconnaissance plane would not likely spot them against the snow from the air.”
“Are you saying you have some idea who it is?”
“Only a hunch, sir. But a solid one, I believe.”
Lund felt certain a man like Nordstrum had to have something to do with it. He knew the area as well as any local. He’d made it to England that they knew—on the Galtesund—where Tronstad and Brun were known to be and the raid was likely planned. And if Lund had a sense of Nordstrum at all, the man would not be scampering like some frightened deer across the vidda to safety. He would remain here. This was only one job. An important one, perhaps, but there was other mischief to be done. “It is also possible he knew people on the inside of the plant who helped him pull this off.”
Lund saw that Larsen, his fellow Norwegian, was regarding him with a look that bordered on contempt and shame. The word “treachery” blazed in his eyes. No matter, it was what he must do.
“That is precisely my suspicion as well.” Rediess returned to the plant director, Nilsson. “As such, I want all department heads who were on duty last night placed in jail in Rjukan.”
“Herr General!” Director Nilsson’s jaw fell open in outrage. “These men have done nothing—”
“And since these people are civilians,” Rediess turned to Lund, “I place the matter under your jurisdiction, Captain. I am sure you can carry this out?”
Lund bowed his head and nodded. “It would be my duty, General.”
“And if we do not discover the name or names of whoever has provided aid to these provocateurs,” the Obergruppenfuhrer pulled off his wire-rim glasses and began to clean them with a huff of breath, “then one of them will be shot each day, until the traitor or traitors’ identity is confirmed. I will oversee the interrogations myself.”
“General Rediess, I must strongly object!” The plant’s director stepped forward, aghast. “This raid is clearly a military matter. Not a civilian one. These men are loyal employees. Many have held jobs in the plant for years. It will disable the work.”
“The work…” The Gestapo chief’s eyes fell on him like a heavy weight. “There is no longer any work here, Herr Director, other than what we tell you to perform. The only work”—he pointed to the disabled compressors—“is restoring this equipment and resuming the production as swiftly as possible. The rest … Whatever chemical you create, or whatever it is you do here, is precisely what it is destined for—fertilizer. Shit. It is completely irrelevant. Do you understand?”
The director cast a hapless glance toward Chief Engineer Larsen.
“As such, you will get your best engineers on the task of fixing these compressors and getting them back up and running as soon as possible. That is all the work this plant is responsible for now. Any day that the effort slackens, even for an hour, in my estimation, another worker will be shot. Is that understood, Herr Director?” The Gestapo chief’s gaze remained fixed on him. “Or would you prefer it would be you who will be shot instead?”
Nilsson released a breath of held-in anger through his clenched jaw and stepped back in line. “Perfectly understood, Herr General.”