“What can we do without explosives?” Sweat beaded on Koppel’s smooth head.
From the heat? Or the danger? Maybe both, and Henrik wiped his hand across his own damp brow. “I have a plan.”
He didn’t dare commit it to paper, but he described it to Koppel. If all went well, no one would be hurt or caught, but many ships would be damaged. And they could do it with supplies on hand.
“I like it. It’ll look like outsiders did it, not shipyard workers.” Koppel frowned, one foot tapping. “Yes. I think it’ll work.”
“You’ll need to brief the men so they won’t know I’m the liaison.”
“So they won’t know you’re smart.” Koppel grinned.
Henrik had to chuckle.
“You’re not working class either.” Koppel wagged one finger. “When this is over, I want to hear your story.”
He’d be in for a surprise if he learned he’d bossed around Frederik Ahlefeldt’s heir.
“I was suspicious from the start.” Koppel flicked up his chin. “A big strapping fellow, taking a job here right after the Germans came, and you didn’t know one lick about tools.”
Henrik spread his hands wide. “I grew up in an apple orchard. Picked apples by hand.”
“I don’t believe you. Never did.” Koppel jabbed Henrik in the chest with his finger. “But I trust you.”
“I’ll bring apples from home next weekend.”
“Liar.”
Henrik shrugged. “Who should we put on our team? Rasmussen? Frandsen? Beck?”
“Hyllested and Pedersen too. And Skov.”
“Skov?” Henrik grimaced. “He’s hotheaded.”
“I want to keep him close, so we can control him.”
“Good point. That’s ... eight of us. I’d like to ask Nyholm to help. Everyone likes him. He could chat up the sabotage guards and learn what he can about the night shift.”
“I don’t want him on the raid. He’s so young. But he’s on our side. He’ll help.”
“Even better if he doesn’t come on the raid. If the guards that night recognize his voice, it’d point to the rest of us.”
“True.” Koppel scratched his chin. “Too bad Eriksen and Blom aren’t with us, but I understand.”
“Yeah. They have about a dozen children between them.”
Koppel chuckled. “I’m glad you’re single.”
Henrik no longer felt single. He felt bound to Else. One by one the cords had slipped around him, drawing him closer to her, enmeshing her in his life and thoughts and heart.
So much so that living in the same house presented a daily risk that he’d slip up not only in speech but in action. Because he longed to engulf her in his arms and his kiss.
Even worse, he sensed her feelings for him ran deeper than waswise. But she was falling for Hemming Andersen—and he wasn’t Hemming Andersen.
Koppel narrowed one eye at him. “Am I wrong? You got a girl?”
“No.” Henrik rose to his feet. “I don’t.”
24
