Beyond the Night Road 2

A spy espionage thriller that is set in the early 1970's.


26. Beyond the Night Road-Part Twenty-Six


Oslo, December 7, 1972

8:00 AM.

Gerard Bowers, an Englishman who worked the Oslo Secret Service's European branch since nineteen fifty-one, scanned the classified documents with haste. He cast a nervous glance at Phillipe Harrow, the Head of the OSS. Harrow, a Scottish spy, watched the rain pour downward outside the secretive building, where security guards walked in unison towards Donaldson Road, which was to the left of them. 

      "The news from the United Kingdom is that there's increased activity by the IRA, the unions, and inside the British Government itself; the increased pressure to prevent another attack in London pubs will happen every month unless we do something. As you know I've been in Oslo for a long time after World War II ended in nineteen forty-five, when I met my wife, Patricia in August of that year at a dance at a the Town Hall. In short, spies are few and far between in Europe. The French, Germans, and Spanish Governments, are waiting for the time to see what MI5, and MI6, are doing before we react". Gerard, who was thirty-three, had arrive in Oslo to have work after his marriage broke down in nineteen sixty-eight, gripped the black suitcase in his left hand. Written in the middle of it were the words: OSS-FOR READING ONLY. He poured a cup of coffee, and they assessed the threat.


Oslo Train Station

9:33 AM.

The man headed towards the Ticket Booth. "Can I have a ticket please to Bonn, West Germany", he asked the woman. She nodded. "Thirty dollars", she answered. He smiled. "I have important matters to attend to. Besides, I can't be late". She nodded. "The next train is scheduled at ten-thirteen AM". He took out his black wallet. As he paid the fare, he relaxed. Over a period of six months, all of the German spies were located in Bonn since the beginnings of The Cold War in the early nineteen sixties. The middle-aged Train Master walked towards him. He was in uniform. "Ticket". The  man gave it to him. "You'll have to wait". As he did as he was told, he noticed a woman speaking to her boyfriend. He ignored their personal conversation. It didn't bother him. He reached a café, and ordered a coffee, and creamy bun. As he ate his breakfast, the train station was getting busier by the hour. He imagined thinking that his time in Moscow in nineteen sixty-two was the perfect training for being the modern spy, under Reinhold Weiss, the St Petersburg KGB spy who was around since nineteen thirty-three. By nine forty-five AM, twelve minutes'  later, the man watched the train arriving. Before he could get on it, an elderly woman talked to him. "Harold, is that you?", she asked him. "I'm not 'Harold', Madam. I'm Peter Gorman", he answered her. "Oh, I'm sorry. You looked like my son. He's in Bonn. I was expecting him for the weekend". The man stared at the Swiss watch on his right hand. It was nine fifty AM. "I'm don't look like your son. Now, I must take the train. Good-bye!", he stated. He shook his head, and made sure he sat down on a spare seat. By ten o'clock AM, the Train Master blew his silver whistle, and the driver drove towards West Germany.


Page 26.

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