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and they settled on the bench. She moved closer to him and linked her arm with his. Her face was intense as she spoke, looking directly into his eyes.

“We think they are producing some kind of Armageddon weapon. A device so horrific that it will destroy the allies completely, annihilating whole armies!”

Kelly blinked. She was serious.

“That’s absurd,” said Kelly. “It’s HG Wells stuff. Science fiction.”

“The group discussed the possibility that it was some kind of elaborate propaganda story, but that seems unlikely. The plant is real. The secrecy is real and Otto, Doctor Amundsen, thinks it is possible in theory,” Sybilla explained.

“But Otto is a medical doctor. Is he qualified to make that judgement?” asked Kelly

“A doctor with a close interest in physics. He worked with Niels Bohr in the past,” Sybilla answered.

Kelly didn’t like to ask who Niels Bohr was. Instead, he changed tack slightly. “Who is ‘the Group’?”

Sybilla hesitated for a moment before answering. “You may as well know. It’s myself, Gunnar, Hansy, Eric Jorgsen and Thomas Borg, another man at the factory. We are all people who believe our country would be destroyed by German occupation and who are praying for an allied victory. In addition, the doctor, Amundsen, is of use at times, but he prefers to keep us at arms’ length.”

“And what do you do?” asked Kelly.

Sybilla hesitated again, just for a moment. “We have a short-wave radio and transmit information to a contact in Sweden who then transmits that information to the British.”

“Sybilla!” Kelly exclaimed. “That is so dangerous! The Germans can trace radio signals.”

“We transmit from a different location each time and we know to keep the transmissions really short.” Sybilla’s defiant eyes flashed at him.

“What sort of information are you sending?”

Sybilla dropped her gaze and stared at the floor.

“Anything I can get out of Jürgen. All of the information on the heavy water plant came from him.” She spoke quietly in a monotone.

Kelly felt he could see a straw of comfort and stretched for it. “So you sleep with him to get information?”

She looked up at him, her eyes wide now, tears beginning to well in the corners. “Partly ...” she said simply.

Kelly’s heart sank into his boots again.

“I need to explain,” she said. “No!” She lifted a hand and cut Kelly off before he could protest. “I need to do this.” She withdrew her arm from his and curled it around his shoulders, pulling him close into her.

“Please!” she whispered.

Dan Kelly nodded.

Sybilla’s Story

“My Father was Johannes Knudsen; he was born near Grense and was raised in this area.

“His greatest friend during his school days was Gunnar Thorstaadt. Yes, my Gunnar. In the early years, Gunnar was bullied because he was a little simple. My father protected him. He liked Gunnar. There was something intrinsically kind and good about the poor soul.

“However, as they grew, Gunnar grew faster than the rest. He was a sport fanatic and excelled at the strength sports, weightlifting, discus and shot. Needless to say, the bullying soon stopped. However, my father and Gunnar stayed close. Gunnar never forgot the care and kindness my father had shown him as a child.

“When they left school, both went into the fishing fleet and worked together on the same boat, but my father grew restless. He wanted more and so left the fleet and travelled south to Bergen to seek a career in industry.

“While in Bergen, he met my mother, Guthrun, the child of an émigré family from Germany who had fled during the Great War. They fell in love and married. I was born less than a year later.

“My father grew unsettled and missed the fishing. He often discussed moving back to this area. He had received letters from Gunnar who had bought a boat and set up on his own and was keen for my father to join him as a partner. However, my mother would have none of it. She would have preferred to move south to Oslo, so staying in Bergen seemed to be the best compromise.

“Their situation was pretty well confirmed with the arrival of Hans, and later when Mother conceived Inga.

“Then disaster. My mother died giving birth to Inga. My father was at first devastated at the loss of the only woman he had ever loved, but then saw it as an opportunity. He moved back to Grense and moved in with Gunnar. At that time Gunnar lived with his old mother in a large house near the quay. She agreed to nurse Inga and take care of the rest of us. Father went off to sea with Gunnar. I was four at the time and Hans three.

“Those days are my earliest recollections. I remember sitting on the quayside looking out for Gunnar’s boat and rushing to my father when he stepped ashore. He smelled of herring. His hands were rough, and his kisses tasted of salt, but I didn’t care. They were magic moments.

“There was always a special hug for Uncle Gunnar as well. His emotions often got the better of him and he would laugh out loud at his joy at seeing us. We had become his family. His mother became ‘grandma’. She especially adored us. Looking back, I think it was because we gave her Gunnar our unqualified love, something he had been deprived of because of his affliction. They were happy times.

“Things were going well for Thorstaadt and Knudsen. They decided to double the fleet by buying a second boat. Father would skipper one and Gunnar the other. I so remember Christmas Eve of 1931, when both boats appeared almost simultaneously, bearing down on the quay in the descending gloom. They had been at sea a week and were now racing to be the first to dock. It was so exciting!

“Gunnar won, so he had the first hug, but father was close behind. Both had bumper catches and we celebrated Christmas that year in style with presents, games, plentiful food, and much laughter.

“Two months later, on my twelfth birthday in

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