Nightmare In Norway

By Dick Reynolds

In his third espionage thriller, author Dick Reynolds packs the pages with world travel, love, murder and the surreal life of unwilling spy Sandy Gilmartin. A momentary encounter with a Norwegian beauty sends Sandy, engineer and reluctant spy, on a journey from the groves of Orange County, California to the snowbanks of Norway. Will drifting into a life of espionage and romance lead Sandy to the secret of becoming the hero of his own life? Find out in this romp of a novel that will feed your need for more Scandinavian adventure if you loved The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo trilogy. Travel through Norway, China, and California with author Dick Reynolds, world traveler and mountain climber, who puts his all into every scene, every twist of plot, and every moment of guilty romantic pleasure.

• Language: English
• Publisher: MilSpeak Books
• Release date: Mar 26, 2011
• ISBN: 9781452491226

Dick Reynolds

Richard C. (“Dick”) Reynolds was born in 1934 in East St. Louis, Illinois and raised mainly in St. Louis, Missouri. In 1953, he enlisted in the Marine Corps Reserve as a private, and retired twenty-four years later as a Lieutenant Colonel. During his first twelve years, he served in infantry units as squad leader, platoon sergeant, platoon leader, and rifle company executive officer. For the second twelve years, he served in communications-electronics assignments. At the end of his military career, he also taught computer science and programming courses for two years at the George Washington University.From 1977 to 1994, Dick was a System Engineer for Hughes Aircraft Company in Fullerton, CA and Brussels, Belgium. During this time, he worked on command and control system programs for Greece, Norway, and Denmark, and on air defense projects for NATO, the Arab Republic of Egypt, and the Kingdom of Saudi Arabia.Just after retiring from the Marines, Dick took up mountain climbing. During the period 1974 to 2002, he scaled approximately 150 peaks in New Mexico, Colorado, and California. He put this experience to good use from 1994 to 2002 as a member of Santa Fe Search and Rescue Group, performing on missions in the local Sangre de Cristo Mountains.After retiring from Hughes, Dick began a fourth career—fiction writing. His thirty-plus short stories have appeared in such publications as Timber Creek Review, Skyline magazine, Barbaric Yawp, and Imitation Fruit Literary Journal. Two of his stories have been nominated for a Pushcart Prize. Dick's third novel, Nightmare in Norway, has just been released. His fourth novel, Filling in the Triangles, was recently released in print by Valentine Press (valentinepress.com).Dick and his wife Bernadette currently reside in Santa Fe, New Mexico.

Book preview

Chapter One

Sandy looked around the store and scratched his head. You have any idea where the men’s clothing section is?

Cheryl pointed to the left rear corner. I’m sure you’ll find coats back there.

Where will you be?

Oh, I don’t know. Looking around. Maybe shoes. Maybe silk blouses for work.

Sandy grinned. Don’t forget the lingerie department. Something black and sexy would be nice.

Cheryl frowned. You just worry about finding something warm enough for Norway. I’ll do fine by myself, thank you very much.

Well, don’t go wandering all over. I want you to see what I get.

Open your eyes and look around. Cheryl sighed. Such a baby.

Sandy eventually found the men’s outerwear department but was disappointed with the small variety and number of coats on display. After riffling through each rack, he found one that looked promising: a black trench coat with a fur lining already buttoned inside. As he put it on, he was impressed by the coat’s substantial weight. He walked over to a three-panel mirror and checked himself out, already starting to feel warm. He turned one-way and then the other, observing the fit. When he noticed his bare legs and sneaker-clad feet, he had to chuckle at the unlikely costume. He was forty-five, five foot ten, three inches taller than Cheryl, and had a muscular build. He wasn’t a physical fitness fanatic but kept in good shape by jogging and playing tennis as often as he could. Occasionally he hiked in the San Gabriel Mountains, an activity that Cheryl considered a huge waste of time.

Sandy studied himself in the mirror. He had coal black curly hair with a pronounced silver streak across his left temple. When it first appeared, he seriously considered dying it to blend in with the rest of his hair. Now, he was pleased with his striking looks and considered the streak a badge of middle-aged virility.

He felt certain that this was the coat for him, but still wanted Cheryl’s approval before he bought it. He walked to the women’s shoe department and then to the area selling women’s blouses and sweaters. She was nowhere in sight.

Sandy attracted many stares wherever he went. One elderly woman dressed in a purple pants suit stopped suddenly. She covered her mouth with her hand in apparent shock at what she saw. Sandy smiled weakly at her and continued looking for his wayward wife.

He found her at the jewelry counter, closely inspecting gold earrings. Finally, he groaned. I’ve been looking all over for you.

Cheryl gave him a curious look and started giggling. Looks good from the front. Turn around.

Sandy did an about face. Hurry, I’m burning up in this thing.

I think it will work just fine. Let me get these earrings and then we can go.

A young man rapidly approached Sandy, followed at some distance by the elderly woman in the purple pants suit. Excuse me, sir, I’m Bill Ross, the manager on duty. Is that one of our coats you’re wearing? Um . . . I mean . . . are you planning to buy it?

Sandy quickly unbuttoned the front panel, removed the coat, and revealed his jogging outfit of white T-shirt and blue shorts. See the tags? It’s yours and I’m paying for it in a couple of minutes. Something wrong?

Ross glanced nervously at the elderly woman who was now looking down and edging away from the confrontation. Ross smiled at Sandy. No, everything’s OK. Looks like a case of mistaken identity. Sorry to have bothered you.

Cheryl burst out laughing. That woman thought you were a flasher.

Sandy turned a light shade of crimson as he folded up the coat. Let’s get the hell out of here. Now.

As they made their way to the checkout, Cheryl was still smiling. Some advice, pal. When you wear that coat in Norway, be sure you’ve got pants on.

Sanford Clarke Gilmartin, or Sandy as he was known by almost everyone except his parents, worked as a communications engineer for an international defense electronics company based in Southern California’s Orange County. He had been selected to be a member of a team that would visit numerous military installations in Norway. Following this six-week trip, the group would design a battle management information system for later installation in that nation’s operation centers.

On the first Wednesday of January, four days after their coat shopping expedition, Sandy and Cheryl worked late at their respective offices. He was wrapping up loose ends before heading for Norway. Cheryl, a retail stockbroker with a nationally known firm located in Newport Beach, held longer than expected meetings with two clients.

It was just after ten o’clock when Sandy slid into their king-sized bed. Cheryl continued working on her computer in a guest bedroom they had converted into a shared office. While waiting for her, Sandy read from a Baldacci thriller.

Cheryl eventually came to their bedroom and began changing into her usual sleepwear of panties and a large white T-shirt. As she stripped, Sandy eyeballed her streamlined body, hoping that she would be in the mood for making love.

He had always admired her dark brown hair with its reddish cast, the way it hung straight down and touched her shoulders. She had a slim physique and worked hard to keep her weight down, mostly by dieting sensibly and swimming at their club pool while Sandy played tennis.

After a quick tooth brushing, Cheryl came to bed and immediately turned on her side, facing away from Sandy. He wanted to reach over and touch her, possibly give her a goodnight kiss, but concluded it would be an unwelcome intrusion. Instead, he switched off his bedside lamp and pulled up the sheet.

In just a few minutes, she threw aside the sheet, bolted from bed, and turned on her own table lamp. A startled Sandy sat upright. What’s wrong? Did something bite you?

Damn straight, I’m burning up. She fanned herself with a woman’s wear catalogue and rippled her T-shirt in and out by pulling at the hem.

This was nothing new for Sandy. He had witnessed her hot flashes many times. She would be turning forty-eight soon and he was well aware that some tough times lay ahead for both of them.

Cheryl padded over to the window and turned on the air conditioner. She closed another window and turned on the ceiling fan so that it rotated at top speed.

Dammit, Cheryl, you’re going to have this room like a meat locker.

I can’t help it. I need to cool off or I won’t be able to sleep. She climbed back into bed and turned off the light.

What about me? I’ll be freezing my ass off.

She barked a muffled laugh into her pillow. Too bad. Why don’t you put on your new coat? That’ll keep you warm.

Sandy leapt out of bed and yelled, You should be the one going to Norway, not me. He slammed the bedroom door and made his way to the guest bedroom where he resigned himself to spending the rest of the night. He was now so agitated that he decided to take a shower, a proven device for easing his tension and getting a good night’s sleep.

As the hot pellets pummeled his body, he thought about the earlier days of their relationship, especially the happy and romantic ones. They had met four years earlier when he decided to open a brokerage account at her firm. He recalled her sultry statement that she would take good care of him.

Both were married to other spouses at the time. Cheryl’s husband, Scott Evans, was an airline pilot who flew out of Orange County to Denver and Seattle. Sandy and his wife, Gail, had a daughter named Julie who was now thirteen. Perhaps it was boredom, indifference, or just the excitement generated by the potential for some extramarital sex that led to Sandy and Cheryl’s liaison. They initially had frequent business meetings in her office, and then talks over candlelight dinners at cozy restaurants, all of which quickly morphed into a full-blown affair. She had indeed taken good care of him.

Cheryl’s financial acumen was so sharp that she helped Sandy structure his portfolio in such a way that when the inevitable divorce arrived, he emerged from it in pretty good shape. Gail continually raged over her financial predicament and took every opportunity to make life miserable for Sandy. Her tactics even included a poorly disguised campaign to discredit him in Julie’s eyes.

Sandy began soaping himself all over. He closed his eyes and recalled one of the early times when he and Cheryl had made love; the very first time they had simultaneously achieved orgasm with mutual shouts of joyful release.

A sudden temperature change knocked Sandy out of his sexual reminiscence. He turned off the cold water, stepped out of the shower, and toweled off. Despite his earlier argument with her, he thought he’d sleep well.

Neither Sandy nor Cheryl possessed a talent for cooking. Since each had an excellent income, they often patronized Orange County’s finer restaurants. The few meals prepared at home were simple, items that could be grilled, baked, or tossed with little fanfare or creative thought.

On Friday, the day before Sandy’s departure for Norway, they decided to meet for dinner at one of the classier restaurants in Irvine’s Spectrum complex. Sandy arrived first and ordered a vodka martini, straight up. He soon became engrossed in people watching, while waiting for Cheryl to show.

She was unmistakable walking toward him through the crowd. She was stunning in a dark blue suit, a cream colored silk blouse, and a single strand of pearls. A short skirt and heels enhanced her shapely legs.

Spotting him, she smiled broadly. Fairly bubbling with excitement, she rushed up, hugged him tightly, and gave him a firm kiss. Hello, darling. Sorry for the delay. Hope I haven’t kept you waiting too long.

Her good mood was contagious and Sandy grinned back at her. Not too long. I’ve only been here a few minutes.

When their server appeared, Cheryl ordered a glass of Chardonnay. Sandy was ready for a second martini.

All set for the big trip? she asked.

Pretty much. Got my tickets and traveler’s checks this afternoon. My briefcase won’t hold one more sheet of paper.

What time are you leaving?

The van’s picking me up at five-thirty.

Good God. Try not to make a lot of noise, OK?

After the waitress brought their drinks, Sandy said, You seem pretty excited about something. Have a good day at work?

Well, yes. Travis called me into his office this afternoon. Travis Nugent was the firm’s local manager. Remember me telling you about the big position opening up? The one handling institutional clients?

A shiver ran through his body. You mean the job in San Francisco?

Yes, that’s the one. You know, I’ve been one of the front runners, along with that bitch, Rochelle Compton.

Sandy flinched at the reference to her colleague but remained silent.

I edged her out of the picture, just like I knew I could. Travis said he’d recommend me for the slot. It’s mine if I want it.

Do you?

Hell yes! This is my big break. The one I’ve been working so hard for.

Then you’d have to move to the Bay Area.

Well, sure. I couldn't do it from Orange County.

What about me? I’d have to find another job up there.

Not necessarily. We could have a long distance marriage. You come to San Francisco on the weekends or I come home to Irvine. Plenty of couples do that.

Sandy twiddled his martini glass and stared at the single olive left on the toothpick, hoping to receive some kind of Delphic message. I’m not comfortable with this, Cheryl. Seems like a bad situation, one that would allow us to drift further apart.

Then you need to look at it in a positive light. We’ll have every weekend to get reacquainted with each other. She gave him a lewd grin and ran her tongue around her index finger. Get those romantic juices flowing again.

They picked at their dinners in relative silence. Over coffee, she steered the conversation back to her potential move. You know, Sandy, I’ve never asked you to make any sacrifices for me.

Until now, that is.

Her face turned a light shade of red and tears formed in her eyes. Dammit, that’s totally unfair. We can make it work if you give it a chance.

I have some serious doubts. It’s got disaster written all over it.

She rose and threw her napkin down hard on the table. I’m going home. You can stay as long as you like. I suggest you think about this. Think hard about me and our relationship. Does it mean anything to you? And while you’re in Norway, think about it some more. And if I’m not at home when you get back, you might try the Golden Gate Bridge, Fisherman’s Wharf or the Top of the Mark.

After she stormed off, Sandy ordered a brandy and mulled over the situation. Maybe this trip will be a good cooling off period. To be fair, I probably shouldn’t have been so quick to discourage her ambitions. But living apart like that can’t be good for a marriage, especially one that’s as shaky as ours.

Just before Saturday’s sunrise, Sandy turned out the house lights and piled into the airport van with his briefcase and new coat. The driver had picked up Sandy’s two suitcases sitting on the front steps and was smoking a cigarette. Cheryl was still asleep; Sandy hadn’t bothered waking her to say goodbye.

Looks like you’re heading for cold weather, said the driver.

That’s what they tell me, replied Sandy.

The driver noticed Sandy’s mood and got his talk fix by turning up the radio volume. He was listening to an all-night show where listeners call in and vent their frustrations on politicians, mean bosses, or unfaithful lovers. The rest of his ride to LAX passed in silence.

Sandy’s check-in went smoothly. On this early Saturday morning, the airport was barely awake. His nonstop flight to JFK lifted off only ten minutes late. A good omen, he thought, according to his business travel experiences. He hoped the next leg from JFK to London Heathrow went as well.

Sandy had happily accepted this new assignment. He was excited about the prospect of traveling in a country where he’d never been before, meeting new people, and observing an unfamiliar but friendly culture. His work, if done well, could also be a stepping stone to a promotion, an event that would further support his long term goal of becoming his division’s Chief Scientist. Even better, it would provide some time away from Cheryl, a respite from their current problems.

He thought she had a valid point. Cheryl deserves a chance to further her career by accepting this new position. But he wondered if they could make a long distance marriage work. He knew that couples in the entertainment industry commuted often between the coasts. Does absence make the heart grow fonder?

Whatever happens will be better than ending the marriage. Sandy was sure that he didn’t want to go through that again. Staying married and geographically separated would still be less painful than a divorce.

Chapter Two

On Monday morning, Sandy emerged from the elevator into the lobby of Oslo’s Viking Hotel and immediately spotted the towering bulk of Norm Riley, anxiously pacing up and down. Riley was the company’s manager for the operation centers automation project.

Morning, Norm. Thanks for picking me up.

Norm stuck out his hand and gave him a firm grip. Welcome to Norway, Sandy. Have a good night’s rest?

I did. Crashed right after I talked to you.

They stepped outside and walked briskly to a car whose engine was still running. Sandy noticed a marquee above the train station flashing time and temperature, the latter at minus six degrees C, or about twenty degrees F. Although it was almost 8:30, the sun had yet to make its appearance.

Riley drove cautiously through Oslo’s streets, covered with a light dusting of snow that had fallen the night before. The city was coming alive with people heading for work. They arrived at the suburb of Kolsaas thirty minutes later and followed a narrow two-lane road to a security gate. Soldiers clad in huge fur-lined parkas stood on each side of the gate. They held submachine guns.

We have to get you checked in first, said Norm. They’ll give you a badge so you won’t have to be escorted everywhere.

After Sandy’s security clearance had been verified, the sentries looked inside, all around and under their car, and waved them through.

Sandy followed Norm to the company’s onsite office, located in a long wooden two-story building inside the compound. The walk from the parking lot was bitterly cold because the wind had picked up. Sandy felt it and snugged his coat closer around his neck. Once inside, they removed their outer clothes and thawed out. Sandy sipped hot coffee while Norm flipped through a stack of faxes which had arrived from Fullerton over the weekend.

Nothing terribly important here, said Norm. Let’s go meet the customer, Sandy. You can leave your briefcase here.

They walked to the other end of the building and entered the office of Jan Orfeldt, a captain in the Danish Navy. Orfeldt, a robust and ruddy faced man of six feet, two inches, greeted them warmly. Norm introduced Sandy and then left.

Both sat down while Captain Orfeldt gave Sandy a broad overview of the command’s mission. The Headquarters was staffed with male and female personnel, officers and enlisted, mainly from Norway and Denmark. There was also a smaller contingent from the U. S., Canada, U. K., and Germany, the last because the NATO Northern Region included a small portion of Germany. Orfeldt summarized the role of his small project team. We represent the users and we want to be sure that your system accommodates all our needs.

Orfeldt tried to conclude the meeting by giving Sandy his next appointment. I’ve arranged for your contact to come down and meet you at ten o’clock. He’s Lieutenant Commander Vigo Franzen of the Norwegian Navy. Like yourself, he’s a communicator. He’ll take you into the bunker, show you your office, and everything there is to see, especially the communications spaces.

Before I go, I’m curious about something.

Yes, of course. How can I help?

What’s your perception of the threat? Don’t get me wrong, captain. I’ve read the classified documents but do you really believe the Northern Region will be subjected to large scale land battles?

Orfeldt chuckled. Good point, Sandy. You know, it was only several years ago we felt the hot breath of the Soviet bear breathing down our necks.

Sandy nodded but said nothing.

Yes, it was very real for us in northern Norway where the country borders Russia and Finland. Quite active up there and we kept a sharp eye, but it’s been rather quiet for some time. The Russians have many problems to deal with in other parts of the world, including their homelands.

Are you concerned about any other nations?

Some of the newly independent republics could be a problem some day. And there’s always Germany, God forbid. My parents and grandparents suffered through Hitler’s atrocities during his occupation of Denmark in World War Two. Orfeldt’s face reddened and his voice grew louder. The resurgence of the Boche after World War One. Ach, it wasn’t supposed to happen again. Will we ever learn how to deal with these petty dictators and tyrants?

Sandy shifted in his chair. I was thinking more along the lines of terrorism. How is the region prepared to deal with such attacks?

Orfeldt relaxed slightly. Ah, here I think we’re on much firmer ground. We have excellent physical security, here at Kolsaas and all the other command centers that will receive the automated system.

I noticed the sentries at the main gate when I arrived this morning.

Only the tip of the iceberg, Sandy. When you’ve been here a while, you’ll learn more about our security measures and appreciate all the work we’ve done. Orfeldt was now warming to his subject. I’m glad you brought this up. Here is an area that you should pay close attention to. Terrorists could try to disrupt communications between Kolsaas and our subordinate commands. Your work should take note of this potential problem. Our computer systems will also be susceptible to hackers’ mischief, trying to steal sensitive data and other damage they can inflict on us. You and your design team can make a significant contribution toward minimizing the threat.

He smiled, thinking that Orfeldt had cleverly shifted responsibility for system security from the military to Sandy’s employer. We’ll do our best, captain.

Orfeldt stood and shook hands, signaling the end of their meeting. We don’t stand on ceremony, Sandy. We do want you to feel comfortable and we’ll see that you get all the information you need to do your job well.

Sandy thanked him and returned to Norm’s office where he began to get organized for the day’s work ahead.

Sandy’s company paid for only one overseas phone call during his trip, a short ‘safe arrival’ call back to his home. Because of the different time zones, he waited until Tuesday afternoon in order to reach Cheryl at her office.

This is Cheryl.

Hi, honey. Just wanted you to know I got here safe and sound.

That’s wonderful. Did you have a good trip?

Not bad, all things considered. Hey, it’s cold here. Very little sun during the day but my new coat is keeping me warm. Lot’s of interesting things to tell you.

Uh, Sandy . . . I really can’t talk right now. The market’s jumping and I’ve got tons of work to do.

Yeah, I know how it is. But there’s no really good time to talk, thanks to the nine hour time difference.

Why don’t you send me an e-mail? A long one with all the details.

"OK, I’ll do that.

After she hung up, Sandy poured himself a stiff drink of scotch purchased at the London Heathrow duty-free shop. That was lots of fun, he thought. Guess I could have set my alarm for some ungodly hour and reached her at home. But why should I screw up my sleep?

On Saturday evening, Sandy sent Cheryl an e-mail.

Hi Sweetheart,

As I mentioned on the phone, I got to Oslo Sunday afternoon, their time of course. The flight over the Atlantic was bumpy so I didn’t get much sleep. London Heathrow was cold and damp. Sure glad I had that new coat handy to keep me warm. Had to take a bus to get from one terminal to the next. Snow all around Oslo with temperatures never getting above freezing. Of course all my sleep patterns are screwed up. I’ve been waking up in the middle of the night, ready for work, then having trouble getting back to sleep.

Today was a day off so I did my usual tourist bit. This morning I took a bus to Bygdøy Island to see the Kon Tiki. Thor Heyerdahl sailed this balsa wood raft with five other people from Peru to Polynesia, an amazing 4800 miles. In the same museum, I also checked out a smaller raft he called the RA II. Heyerdahl drifted on this one across the Atlantic in 1970. I’ve been on rough seas when I was in the Navy, but I’d be terrified sitting on one of these rafts in the middle of the ocean.

This afternoon I took a bus back to Oslo and browsed around an art gallery for a while. The most famous painting on display was The Scream by Edvard Munch. You probably remember reading about it. Some amateur crooks stole it but now it’s back again, The museum’s security seems much better after that incident. I saw another painting that was more interesting, something that appealed more to my taste. Although nobody would ever accuse me of being an art critic. This other painting is called Nøkken. The picture shows the top half of a black head emerging from a swampy lagoon, its large eyes shining an iridescent green. The woman at the visitor’s desk told me that this monster is the Norwegian boogeyman, often invoked by desperate parents trying to discipline their misbehaving children.

Tonight I’m having dinner with Vigo Franzen and his family. He’s a Navy officer assigned to the NATO headquarters out at Kolsaas where I’ve been working. It should be really interesting. Vigo speaks excellent English and he told me his sons also know the language well and want to get some practice by talking with me about the good old U. S. of A. Hey, I can tell them all about Disneyland. Ha!

Have to run. By the way, I’m staying at the Viking Hotel in room 1208. If you want to call me, the number is 47-1-473-0738. Remember to dial 011 first for an overseas call.

Love, Sandy

P. S. What’s the latest news on the San Francisco job?

On Sunday morning, Sandy decided he needed some physical exercise. Vigo had recommend cross-country skiing, a sport that Sandy had never tried. Vigo said he could rent skis, boots, and poles by the day and, if necessary, take a lesson or two before heading out. Being the athlete he thought he was, Sandy believed that he could experiment with the equipment and pick it up on his own. If that didn’t work out, he could always swallow his pride and take a lesson.

Sandy boarded a two-car electric train, or ‘tric’ as the locals called it, and headed for the wooded suburb of Frognerseteren at the north end of the city. He wore wool trousers, a Polartec jacket, and a wool ski cap. He didn’t look Norwegian but he didn’t care. He just wanted to be warm.

He found the rental shop and got outfitted with ski equipment. He was pleasantly surprised at the low cost of renting all this gear. It was the biggest bargain he would encounter during his six-week visit to Norway.

The Norwegians he encountered witnessed Sandy’s initial foray into the Nordmarka with great amusement. Although he had a muscular build and was an active tennis player and jogger, he was surprised at the challenge presented by these long and slender slats. His first problem was just standing upright and then, once that was mastered, finding the right sequence of kicks and glides that would propel him forward. Getting up after a fall was even more difficult. He fell a half dozen times but still enjoyed the exercise, the biting fresh air, and the snow-clumped blue spruce flanking the ski tracks.

He discovered that after moving only several hundred yards, he was no longer cold. In fact, he was soon sweating profusely and had to loosen several buttons and zippers to cool off. He was warm as long as he kept moving; when he stopped to rest, he rapidly became chilled and had to zip up again.

After several hours of vigorous exercise, he decided to call it a day. Back in his hotel room, he filled the tub with hot water and took a long soak. He was sore and aching, with exercised muscles that he hadn’t used for a hell of a long time. After a nice dinner, he decided, it’s early to bed for me.

Chapter Three

The next four weeks passed quickly. During his free time, Sandy visited more tourist attractions and went cross-country skiing at least once each weekend. He also took Lieutenant Olav Torgeson and his fiancé, Birgett, to dinner one evening. Torgeson worked as an engineer with the Norwegian Air Material Command, the organization that managed the contract for Sandy’s project. Birgett, a tall, beautiful young woman with waist-length reddish brown hair, was a practicing nurse in Oslo’s largest hospital. During dinner, Sandy learned that she and Olav planned to live in Saudi Arabia for several years after his military obligations were satisfied. As a married couple, both would be able to find employment at generous salaries and build a solid financial foundation for their future.

There was still one dark spot, a black cloud looming over Sandy during this period; his relationship with Cheryl had worsened steadily. She had sent him only a few angry e-mails concerning her employment situation. The last such message, received after his being in Norway for four weeks, announced that she had taken the new job and was moving to San Francisco. She promised to write again, but only after finding a place to live, and would give him a mailing address and telephone numbers for her home and office.

This news both disappointed and pleased him. He was not surprised that she had made this decision but he felt rejected because she had not made any more efforts to win his approval, or at least gain his best wishes for success in the new position. He also dreaded coming home to an empty house. On the other hand, he was relieved that this unpleasantness was now behind them. Now the hard work would begin of trying to make the marriage work despite the geographical separation.

On his fifth Friday in Norway, Sandy realized he hadn’t seen the sun in twenty-two freezing days. But the very next day, the