Billy Boyle by James R. Benn

international incident.” Harding leaned back in his chair and lit up a cigarette, shaking his head as he blew smoke toward the ceiling.
    “It will be my great pleasure, Major. Is he to be allowed to attend this afternoon’s meeting?”
    “It will be your responsibility if he does,” said Harding, still eyeing the ceiling. Kaz cocked an eyebrow at me that seemed to say, I don’t care what you do; I’d just like to know one way or the other.
    “Don’t worry, Kaz. I won’t get you into hot water.”
    “Hot water? Does that mean trouble?”
    “Yeah, trouble.”
    “No hot water, Billy. Lukewarm is all you are allowed for the rest of the day!” Harding rolled his eyes but seemed to accept Kaz’s pledge. Kaz smiled at Daphne, pleased with his own little joke. She smiled back as she rose from her chair and walked to the window. She had the patient look of a woman waiting for men to calm down and talk sense.
    “Can you at least tell me what’s going on this afternoon so I know what not to say?” I asked Harding.
    “It’s Cosgrove’s show,” he said, tapping ash into an ashtray balanced on the arm of his chair. “The British have funded and armed this Underground Army the Norwegians have organized. But the Norwegians are hesitant to use it. They want it in place when the country is liberated, some of them say so the Communists won’t take over.”
    “But the British want them to start harassing the Germans now, perhaps take over a northern province,” Kaz explained. “They’ve been after the king to approve some level of uprising, but he’s put them off. Today, the British government, in the form of Major Cosgrove, is delivering an ultimatum.”
    “Time to go, gentlemen,” Harding interrupted. “You get the gist, Boyle. Now just keep it zipped. Let’s go.” He ground his cigarette out, got up, and we followed him like little ducklings.
    “Zipped?” Kaz asked in a low voice as we left the room.
    “Yeah, like keep a lid on it. Keep it under your hat. Mum’s the word.”
    “Billy,” Kaz said, “I think you have a lot to teach me.”
    We entered a large room with a huge wooden table at one end and maps of Great Britain and Norway taped to blackboards on wheels, like in school. The room was paneled in dark walnut, even the ceiling, and it felt heavy and oppressive, as if the weight of centuries hung over our heads. The king, of course, was at the head of the table. Vidar Skak and Knut Birkeland were on either side, and Major Arnesen and Captain Iversen sat next to them. There was another Norwegian officer, a lieutenant, next to Arnesen. The last musketeer? We took seats opposite Cosgrove. Daphne was in a chair against the wall, a notepad balanced demurely on her knee.
    “Now that we are all gathered,” King Haakon began, “let us begin. The purpose of this meeting is to hear a request from His Britannic Majesty’s government concerning the disposition of Norwegian forces. Major Cosgrove?”
    Nice. A request, he calls it. Something easy to say no to.
    “Ahem.” Cosgrove cleared his throat and shifted in his chair. He stroked his mustache and licked his lips before starting. A nervous tell.
    “Your Highness. Thank you for receiving me on this matter. As you know, for the past two years we have worked with your government to strengthen the Norwegian forces in Great Britain and within Norway. We have built up the Norwegian Brigade, a Norwegian commando unit, RAF squadrons, and extensive naval forces.”
    “We are eager for these forces to enter the fight against Germany and liberate our homeland,” the king intoned. “We are grateful to you for the aid and assistance you have given us, as allies.”
    “Yes, well.…” Cosgrove seemed a little flustered and worked to get his train of thought back. Nice move, king. “We will get to that topic in due course. Today, we must discuss the potential usefulness of the Underground Army. Through our joint efforts, there are now hundreds of small groups