CHAPTER 12 The transports were in formation over the North Sea and approaching the coast of Scotland. All navigation lights and transponders in internationally required operation. The eastern sky was beginning to glow behind them. Thorvald was on a gurney and the med techs had him wrapped in heated blankets. They had found him 300 meters short of the Mobiles, half-buried in a drift and unconscious. He was awake now and feeling warmer but he could hear nothing but what sounded like static in both ears. Everyone who had been outside the Mobiles when the shock wave hit had ringing ears and some level of disorientation. The radiation released hadn’t been enough to warrant full protocols for those exposed. Thorvald sat up and propped himself up against the bulkhead. Virginia came over and sat on the gurney beside him. Paul and Keith came and sat on the gurney ends like bookends, also leaning against the bulkhead. Virginia handed Thorvald a familiar cup. He reached out of the blankets and took it in both hands. Virginia smiled, “There was still some left in the thermos.” Thorvald smiled broadly, closing his eyes – and sipped some soup. He was very grateful to have these comrades and friends around him. He cracked open an eye on each side and realized all three were asleep and leaning against each other and up against his shoulders… he silently said a prayer of thanks – his first in many years, and nodded off himself. The assault group had been allowed to get a few hours of sleep in the bunk room in the security area. It was neither private nor terribly comfortable, but was greatly appreciated. The rest of the afternoon involved debriefing and medical assessments. It was dark when they were released to go home… The following morning Thorvald went out to his trusty Beetle and laughed when he saw there was still snow crammed into some of the body recesses. “You did well, Helge,” he said patting the roof with his hand. At SHADO headquarters he arrived at Commander Straker’s office in time to see the door open. Straker and Freeman were there, and Keith Ford was across the desk standing at attention. Straker handed Ford a sizeable envelope and shook his hand. “A commission upgrade and promotion, Mr. Ford – and you damn well earned it!” Said Straker with a grin. Colonel Freeman was grinning as well. “Thank you sir!” said Ford, looking immensely pleased. Straker walked him to the door and Ford stepped out and back to his station. “Good morning Thorvald,” said Straker. He was in a very good mood this morning. He continued, “Your solution to our problem was brilliant!” “The increase in pressure accelerated the atmospheric breakdown process.” “I know now why Henderson recommended you so fervently.” “Unfortunately, things did not pan out in bridging your service from NATO, so we had to alter our plan…” Straker stepped back behind his desk but did not sit. “NATO Command would not approve release of your back pension or reinstate you to living status in their records - but that allowed us to do something special for you on your behalf.” Straker handed him an envelope. He looked inside and found a photograph. It was a grave marker in marble with beautifully engraved angels and text. “Johannson, Magnus, Helge and Anna.” It showed the date they had died. Thorvald couldn’t stop the tears that formed. “Thank you, Commander.” “That’s not all Thorvald.” Straker handed him another much larger envelope. It contained birth records, official documents of education, taxpayer identification and even a drivers’ license with his picture. The only thing odd was the name. “This is your new official and legal identity, Thorvald.” Thorvald looked at the drivers’ license and read it out loud. “Thorvald David Magnusson…” Alec chimed in, “We did a better job of taking into account your heritage and ethnicity this time around.” “We didn’t want you to wind up with an unfitting name like Douglas Jackson, did we?” He couldn’t help but laugh. Straker tried in vain not to join in. Straker sat and looked up at Thorvald, “Do you have any questions Thorvald?” “Only one at the moment Commander.” “What were you doing in that remote part of Norway when you were abducted?” Straker turned a little red and lowered his head with a sigh. Alec burst into laughter again. “Would you believe I was scouting out a location to make a film about Vikings?” After the moments of laughter, Thorvald looked a bit serious again. “Commander, you won’t likely need my kind of skills very often. What am I supposed to do with myself?” Straker looked up at him with a wry grin and said, “Have you ever considered a career in film?” PROLOGUE Thorvald was in his kitchen cooking. He had changed his appearance and gone out to the local markets and shops to find just a few things he really needed. He had resumed his new identity upon returning and was now dressed for comfort. There was a loud thump at the door. It repeated a couple more times… Thorvald went to the door, bent down and looked through the wide angle view port. All he could see were greens. Carrot greens. And a tuft of black hair. He opened the door. A pleasant, almost musical voice came from behind three over-stuffed bags of groceries, “Hello, Mr. Magnusson.” “Please, let me take those,” he said, scooping the bags together carefully so as not to crush them. He found himself looking into the face of the lovely dark-haired woman he’d seen at the communication console his first day. She had a warm smile and deep brown eyes that were quite disarming. She also had an exotic, tropical complexion that reminded him of islands he’d visited in the South Pacific… “You’re Lt. Johnson, right?” He asked. She smiled sweetly. He motioned for her to come in. She entered and closed the door behind her. The automatic locking mechanism engaged. She followed him into the kitchen and he set the bags on the counter. “Thank you very much.” Thorvald said with a grin. “I had only picked up a handful of things so far.” She noted the simmering stockpot on the stove and the wonderful aroma of bread in the oven. She spoke again in that pleasantly musical voice. “All SHADO field operatives and command staff have personal staffers that take care of this type of thing to minimize public exposure.” “Yours hasn’t been assigned yet.” He turned to her and smiled. “You drew this detail, then?” he asked. “Not exactly,” she said. “All three of my command colonels approached me and offered to let me leave early if I would do a favor for them.” “They also gave me a shopping list and bundle of cash to cover it,” she added. “Colonel Lake even took my duty station, and said if Straker asked her why she was there, she would tell him to mind his own business.” “Why did they choose you then?” He asked with a smile. “It’s simple, Mr. Magnusson.” She smiled again. “We are neighbors.” “I live in the flat directly above yours.” “They thought we should meet and get acquainted.” Thorvald smiled wide. “Please call me Thorvald…” “My friends call me “’Shea.”” She returned his smile and her soft brown eyes seemed to glow from the light above the stove. “It must be you I hear singing in the morning,” he said. Her cheeks reddened, “In the shower, I’m afraid.” “I’m so embarrassed…” “Please don’t be.” It filters softly through my ceiling and sounds, -well… angelic.” She turned her head, still quite red in the cheeks, and said quietly, “Thank you.” “’Shea, would you please join me for dinner?” he asked with his best available manners. “There is so much here and I would really appreciate your company…” Her face beamed. “I’m afraid my diet is of a vegetarian nature, but that smells so wonderful.” “It is entirely vegetable-based, with my favorite roots, garden fare and a healthy dose of lentils.” “I also have black rye bread for dipping into it.” “Doctor Jackson says my cholesterol could stand some improvement.” “I would be delighted, Thorvald,” she replied. “It will be ready in just a short while.” “Please sit and keep me company, ‘Shea.” “Would you care for some fresh coffee?” She nodded, smiling, and sat down on the only chair in the kitchen. The coffee was full-bodied and wonderfully smooth… “I’ve heard you had some interesting experiences as a NATO operative, Thorvald.” She looked up at him, “Can you tell me about some of them?” “No need for specifics, though.” He smiled again. “I understand...” “One mission awakened my love for cooking.” He continued, “I spent four months of intensive training in a culinary institute to prepare me to be a private chef for a high party official in an Eastern Bloc country.” She smiled again, knowing she’d soon be enjoying some very good food. “A particularly enjoyable one, was acting as a native fly-fishing guide on the Kamchatka Peninsula of Northeastern Russia for a group of KGB agents on holiday.” “There is an enormous species of trout there called a taimen. They grow larger than a Norwegian salmon and fight twice as hard.” “I was having so much fun fishing, camping and cooking in the wild, that I nearly forgot why I was there.” “What would be the hardest for me to believe, Thorvald?” She had a playful look on her face. He lowered his face - eyes closed, and laughed out loud. “I spent over a year posing as the lead guitar player and vocalist for a heavy metal band that was touring behind the Iron Curtain…” “No!” “Not possible!” She exclaimed, laughing. “Seriously.” He said. “I spent six months training with guitar and voice coaches – three weeks of it in a studio with Iron Maiden…” “They were very helpful…” ‘Shea had tears on her cheeks now, trying hard not to spill her remaining coffee. He turned off the stove and oven, taking the towel over his right shoulder to protect his hands as he removed the bread from the chamber. He set it on the cutting board, then cut it into angled slices, and those into sections for dipping. The crisped bread made a crunching sound as the knife cut through the outer layer. The smell was intoxicating. “I appear to have no bowls.” “Do you mind your soup in a mug?” he asked. “Not at all, Thorvald.” “That’s how I do it in my own kitchen as well.” “It’s more portable that way too.” He pulled a pair of large earthenware mugs from a cabinet, mixed the contents of the stockpot and ladled a healthy dose into each. He added a mismatched spoon. “It will have to cool a bit before we can eat it safely.” “I’m afraid I have no dining table or chairs.” “I’m a bit under-furnished at the moment.” He sounded apologetic. “We can just sit on the sofa,” she responded taking the mugs from him. He picked up the bread, still on the cutting board and followed, sitting beside her. They placed the mugs and cutting board on the long table in front of the sofa. As she sat she noticed three items on the small side table. There was a small hand-painted wooden horse flanked by two picture frames. One photo was black and white. An elderly man with slits for his eyes and mouth, but a kindly face - and a pretty, much younger girl beside him. Both in deerskin parkas and looking quite content. The background was a rustic snow-covered farm. The other picture frame held a color picture of a beautiful, crystalline blue-eyed woman with golden blonde curls framing her face and an adorable young girl with the same hair but shining dark green eyes. Their smiles were beaming with warmth. She then noticed the matte black ring resting in front of the picture. She looked beside her and into those same dark green eyes. There was great sadness there and it tugged at her heart to see it in her new friend. There was no need to explain… She smiled warmly, looking up at him. She hoped he couldn’t see the moisture that had formed in her eyes. She reached for the remote and said, “Let’s see what’s on the tele, Thorvald.” She pulled her legs up beside her and leaned gently up against his side. She pressed the on button. A show was coming on. It had bounding music with a weird synthesizer melody and the background consisted of swirling colors in a continual spiral… “Oh, I love Doctor Who,” she said with a youthful glee. Thorvald just looked at her with bewilderment… She patted his arm softly, smiled, and said, “Don’t worry, I’ll explain it as it goes…” Even this small apartment, however stark at the moment, was beginning to feel like a home. The first in many, many years. I wonder how it would look with reindeer skins in front of the fireplace…
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