Twice a week, Chief Engineer Alf Larsen stopped off at the bakery in Rjukan and brought home a small box of chocolates for himself, his one vice.
Larsen wasn’t a drinker or a gambler; he preferred a night of bridge to poker or dice. In truth, he was never very comfortable with women, and in spite of his steady nature and well-paying job, he had never attracted a wife. He had worked all his career for the job he now held, though his appointment had been made only after the hasty departure of his predecessor and his family in the middle of the night. As much as he detested and feared the Nazis—they had terrorized the workers and narrowed the plant’s entire production to their single military concern—resisting them meant certain death. They had made that abundantly clear. He simply resigned himself to do the job for which he was tasked and ride out the war. Stay under the radar, take no large risks; leave the fighting to others. A night of bridge on Saturday. An occasional chocolate. One day it would be all right.
“Here you are, Chief Larsen.” The woman behind the counter tied up his box of chocolates.
“Thank you, Astrid.” Larsen poked through his change and laid out the precise amount.
“See you Friday, I’m sure.” The clerk smiled. “Almond brittle.”
“God willing, I’ll be here.”
He got back in his Opel, which he had left in the alley bordering the shop. He placed the box of candy on the passenger seat next to his briefcase and put his key in the ignition.
“Don’t turn around, Chief Larsen.”
He felt something metallic and cold against the back of his neck. His heart came to a stop. His eyes shot to the mirror and he saw the man in a woolen cap and clipped, blond beard in the backseat, his fingers wrapped around a gun.
“Don’t be alarmed. Just drive. I only want a word with you. I’m sure this won’t be necessary.” He removed the gun and silencer from the back of his neck.
“Whoever you are, this isn’t the way to do this,” the engineer said, his eyes furtively shifting to the mirror. “You may know I’m being watched. The Gestapo may even be watching now. There are ears everywhere in Rjukan.”
“That’s why this is the only way to do this,” Nordstrum said. “Just put the car in gear and drive. Maybe you can make a stop at Rolf’s Tavern for a beer.”
“Rolf’s? That’s on the way to Vigne, isn’t it?”
“That’s the place.”
“You know I don’t drink.”
“Don’t drink? What a pity in this war. Not to worry, just drive there nonetheless.”
Nodding tremulously, Larsen turned the key in the ignition and did as he was told.
Nordstrum said, “I’m sorry for the jolt to your heart. I assure you, I would never have used it,” he said, putting the gun away. “But we need a hand inside the plant. As you know, the situation there has recently changed.”
“Changed?” Larsen wove the car out of the town onto the main road east. “What’s changed?”
“The heavy water production has changed,” Nordstrum said, and for the first time, sat up behind him.
Larsen didn’t say anything for a while. Then he just nodded. “Who are you with?”
“What does it matter who I’m with? I’m with the king, that’s all you need to know. I’m with anyone who sees that the Allies must prevail and the Nazis must be stopped. Who are you with?”
“I’m for staying alive.” Larsen cast a glance behind him. “Look, of course, I try to help. Like I told your friend Skinnarland—he is your friend, I assume—you just can’t ask too much. There are too many eyes. It’s far too dangerous.”
“I know you try, Chief Larsen. Just keep driving. Einar said you were a good man. We know you’re no Nazi. There’ll just be a time when we’ll need you to prove it in a deeper way.”
“A deeper way…?” Nordstrum noticed the engineer break out in a sweat. He drove on the winding road past Nordstrum’s family house, taking the turnoff toward Vigne. Out here, the traffic was light. “Look, I’m not Tronstad. Or even Brun. I’m no hero. I do what I can.”
“I’m afraid doing what you can do is no longer sufficient, Chief Engineer. You can see that, can’t you? You’re a scientist. You can’t pretend. You see exactly what they want from you. And you also know why.”
“Yes.” Larsen met Nordstrum’s eyes in the mirror. A bead of sweat wormed down his collar. “I know why.”
“At some point,” Nordstrum put his hand on the man’s shoulder, “even those who have the most to lose have to act.”
The harried chief engineer swallowed. He drove on a bit farther. “Look, I’ll try to help. Where I can. How’s that? I’ll get you information. I can’t promise more. Even you must know it’s important to have someone like me inside. I can’t jeopardize that.”
“No one’s looking to jeopardize that. I’m simply here to tell you that one day soon we are going to need more. You’ll have to choose. You can drop me off around that curve.”
Larsen slowed the car. Around the bend was a bus stop. A bicycle leaned against a rock. He pulled the car over. He waited a second, looking straight ahead, and said, “I honestly don’t know if I’m your man.”
“Oh, you’re our man, Larsen. I’m sure of it. You’ll hear from me again.” Nordstrum slid out the door. “Look in the mirror, Chief Engineer, I think you’ll find the answer. Maybe next time, we’ll share a game of bridge. In the meantime…” Nordstrum shut the door and leaned inside the window. “Enjoy your chocolates.”
56
With October came the snows. Nordstrum spent much of it shifting from place to place, developing his team of agents.
In the past months the German sweeps across the vidda had finally pulled back and become far less organized. Their assumption, according to Einar, who’d heard it from his sources at the plant, was that the team of agents responsible for the sabotage at the plant had likely long since left the country, and even if one had been sighted and was still in the region, production at Norsk Hydro was back under way and they could no longer justify such heightened troop levels in the pursuit of a single man. The Germans’ real effort now was poured into fortifying the plant’s defenses. They still had their W/T vehicles on patrol. Whoever was out there would make a mistake, they reasoned, and then they’d have him. Sooner or later, he’d fall into their hands.
*