“Thanks for that,” Nordstrum said appreciatively. He carried his pack up to his room. Who knew who he could trust, even among the staff? The main thing he had to be careful of was that no one found his Colt pistol, which was a sure sign he wasn’t who he represented himself to be.
For the first time in weeks he took a bath and cleaned himself properly. The hot water washed away all the dirt and grime that had caked on him since he’d left England, and took the chill from his bones that had been there since he first landed on the vidda six weeks ago. He asked for a pair of scissors and trimmed his beard and dressed in the most suitable clothes he had. In case the room was searched while he stepped out, he used his belt to strap his gun to the bottom of the bed frame. Then he went downstairs to the restaurant for dinner.
As soon as he stepped in, he knew he’d made a mistake. The place was swarming with Germans. There was a large table set up for eight of them, high brass—he could see a major, a captain, and several others in civilian clothes. Gestapo, he assumed. Conversing loudly. Singing. Ordering lots of booze.
There were a few other tables filled, but the rest of the patrons were subdued with the Germans present. Nordstrum took a seat in the corner by himself.
His first instinct, if it wouldn’t draw attention to him, was to get out of there. Ox had warned him that people were being randomly searched all over and the hotel proprietor had backed that up. In fact, at that point, he had no idea how things had gone for the rest of the team. If they had made it safely, or if any had been captured or killed. Or had to swallow their pills. Nordstrum kept his in his pocket at all times. In the end, though, he thought it better to remain at the table and have his meal, rather than draw unwanted attention to himself by leaving abruptly.
A waitress came up, plump and red-cheeked, likely the hotel manager’s wife. He ordered fish in butter and dill, and picked at some bread. The noise at the table of Germans grew loud—ordering the harried waitress left and right, demanding more drinks and wine, laughing boisterously. As the liquor got to them, their actions began to spill over on the neighboring tables.
At one of those tables an attractive local woman was seated with four friends. She was nicely dressed, with long, dark hair folded neatly into a bun, and high cheekbones, in her mid-to-late thirties, Nordstrum reckoned, and had clearly drawn the interest of one of the German officers. He was an SS captain who kept leaning toward her, trying to gain her attention. The woman did her best to ignore him, burying herself in conversation with her friends and turning away from his advances.
“Madame, have you ever been to Germany?” The officer finally swung his chair around and spoke loudly enough for Nordstrum, who was across the room, to overhear.
“Please, if we can only continue our meal,” the woman said politely, and went back to her own conversing.
“Maybe you’d like to come there with me someday,” the officer continued, turning to his colleagues with a suggestive wink. Their group laughed.
“I should very much not like to do that,” the woman finally replied, unable to ignore the officer’s rudeness.
The rest of the Germans laughed at their rebuked colleague, which only urged him further on.
One of her party, an older woman in a black dress, took her by the arm and scolded her. “Hella, please.”
But the boorish officer kept at it. “I see you wear a ring, madame. So where is your husband? To allow such a beautiful woman out at night, unescorted…”
“And that would be none of your business,” the woman remarked defiantly. “And anyway, I am escorted, as you can see, quite happily.” As she looked across the room, her gaze happened to land on Nordstrum’s, who nodded back with just enough encouragement to convey his support for her bravery. Still, he knew she’d better not press her luck too far. Anything could happen with these bastards.
“Why so rude, madame?” The chastened officer now stood up with his drink and went over to their table with the slightest stumble. “Do you not know things are at a very sensitive time in this region? It doesn’t take much to end up in a jail for questioning these days. Even a pretty thing like yourself. Never a fun experience, I can assure you. Of course, we could easily look the other way, don’t you agree, gentlemen,” he turned back to his party who chuckled at his efforts, “if perhaps you’d agree to meet us for a drink later. We Germans are very forgiving types. And we know how to show it, trust me.”
At first the woman did not reply. Ignoring the slight would have been the best tack. But when he splashed a little of his drink on their table and stood there, drunken, seeming actually to be waiting for an answer, she finally looked at him.
“I would rather you put me in jail then,” she said, unable to back down. “And if you really must know where my husband is, I’ll tell you. He was a captain in the Free Norwegian Army. Sadly I have no idea where he is today. Captured or killed, I expect. Fighting the likes of you. So if you don’t mind, leave a woman alone who is merely here with her friends, celebrating a birthday, and go back to your table. I’ve committed no offense against you but trying to eat my meal in private.”
The rebuked captain stood there stiffly. Nordstrum saw his jaw tighten. “You should not be so bold, madame.” The captain took another gulp of his drink. “People have been brought in for questioning for far less offense. And then no one knows what they will find. There is always something.”
Every eye in the restaurant went to him.
“Come on, Hans…” His fellow officers waved their countryman back. “Leave the lady alone. She’s not worth it. There are others, be sure. Come, have another drink.”
The officer stared at her, granite-faced. No one knew what might happen. Then he merely bowed politely, gritting his teeth and saying, “My condolences, madame,” and finally retook his seat.
If there was some great victory won by her courage, the woman didn’t act it. She merely went back to her meal and her friends and resumed her conversation. Nordstrum gave her another smile and a nod at a point when their gazes happened to meet, to indicate he admired what she had done.
His fish arrived. The first real food he had had in weeks that wasn’t rations or what he had killed on his own and put over a fire himself. He ate it as if it came from a Cordon Bleu kitchen. All the while, he kept an eye fixed on the table of Germans, hoping their interest wouldn’t wander to him. And also wondering just what he would do should the drunken officer decide to renew his case with her.
Over coffee, the woman got up to go to the powder room in the small hotel’s lobby.
The officer knocked over a glass in a drunken manner, and stumbled clumsily out of the dining room too.
When she didn’t come back promptly, Nordstrum asked for the bill and got up to investigate. It wouldn’t be a wise thing for him to make trouble, but after the courage the woman had displayed, he wasn’t about to back down if the situation called for it.
To his relief, he spotted her outside smoking a cigarette, the German nowhere around.