Chapter 35
Ben Reed Is
Still At War
Ben
SIX MONTHS SINCE I left Lillian behind. Six months without her smile, her laugh, and her intelligence. I’ve never felt more lost in my life.
I don’t even know why I’m still here in this godforsaken country that’s at war and floundering at it. There’s nothing left for me here. But then again, I don’t know if there’s really anything left for me anywhere.
Returning to England after Brazil felt like the right next step.
I still had obligations in my contract with Mr. Morgan and Mr. X, plus I needed to see Margaret put to justice.
Even with life-altering injuries, they ended up putting her somewhere so deep that I doubt she’ll ever see light again.
I still don't see it as justice served. Nothing will ever feel fair with Lillian gone and the likes of Margaret Williams still on this earth.
Lillian’s gone, and yet I feel her in everything. I hear her everywhere.
Find me, always that phrase. Find me.
I do find her daily. I see her in the lilies at the flower shop I walk past each morning and feel her in the warmth of a humid day’s sun.
Her voice hasn’t ceased calling to me since I left the colony.
I hear a whisper each time I think of her, and then I’m forced back to that room where she was taken from me.
Rather than fall too far into the darkness of memory, I push her from my mind with one large gulp of beer from my glass. Frantic to free myself before the memories of embraces turn to her laying dead in my arms, I instead turn back to my purpose here today.
Archibald Bach. My fist clenches the handle of the glass in my hand just at the thought of him.
He didn’t get what he deserved either, not even close.
Nothing more than a pawn in the upcoming war, he’s destined to live out the rest of his days comfortably for all the selling out he did of the Nazi exploration divisions.
A bell at the door thankfully alerts me to the entrance of the pub. James saunters in and spots me right away. I haven’t seen him in weeks, but the last time I did, he swore he’d have more information for me.
The things Archibald had divulged had not been made public, nor had any of the names trickled down to me, but James had sworn he would get me what I needed.
“Here,” he says, throwing a folder down in front of me. We both look over our shoulders once more to check for patrons, but there’s no one near our corner. It’s midday on Monday anyway, and the crowd won’t be in until after work hours.
James pulls out a chair and stashes his coat on the back of it. “I sure hope you know what you’re doing, Ben. I know you want justice—”
“I don’t believe in justice anymore, James.” I stopped believing in it the day that Lillian was taken from me for the purpose of peace. A peace that has yet to reveal itself.
Usually during a meeting, James would ask for a beer and share that he hadn’t been able to procure anything, but today he just puts his chin in his hands and waits.
He stares at me with the same brokenhearted emptiness that I feel every morning when I wake up.
The only difference is that he can still break out of it.
“I’d sell my soul to set things right,” I say, hiding behind another sip.
I can feel the concern radiating off of James, but he only hums in thought.
I know the pushback is coming. “What, you don’t think I should do this?”
“I think,” James begins, reaching for my beer. “I think I'd also like to see every one of those Nazi bastards that pulled strings for that expedition dead at my feet”—he sighs—”but…”
“But?”
“But I don’t want my friend to commit to something he isn’t ready for.” He shrugs and only continues when I tap my knuckles on the table in annoyance. “You’ve already given so much, and we have it under control.”
“How many are on the list?” I bark, turning to face him for the first time since his arrival.
“Ben—”
“How many?”
James swallows before pushing the folder in my direction. “17.”
It’s more than I thought, but it only bolsters me knowing I have the names of the men responsible. “All the more reason to let me be a part of it.”
“We can find others willing.” I can see what he’s trying to do.
Ever since I’ve shown interest in joining alongside him in service, he’s tried to find ways to keep me out of it.
I have no doubt there will be things about it that I don’t agree with or will find difficult, but the fact of the matter remains: joining will give me the quickest path to finding every German who ever spoke about the existence of the Lost Colony and personally ending them.
“Diederick would happily join in your stead.”
I wave the answer away. “Out of the question.”
He’d been lucky enough to come home to find his family safely snuck out of Germany into England.
The reunion had been two decades in the making.
It had been so overwhelmingly joyful that I had to remove myself.
Though I haven't seen Diederick since, there's no reality where I would take him away from his wife and child.
Not after he fought so hard for them for so long.
James raises an eyebrow and nearly laughs at his next suggestion. “Oliver?”
The thought of the young man breaks the tension. He wouldn’t ever be up for any sort of adventure again but will come in handy for our side at some point in the war—that much I am certain of. He’s already invented a new portable radio that they intend on using in the field.
Bruno is also out of the question since he remains in Brazil—easily as broken as I. We’ve shared letters since the expedition, but Lillian might have been our only common fondness, so the communication quickly stopped.
“That just leaves me,” I state plainly. It’s the only reality I’ll accept. “There’s nowhere else for me, James.”
My friend nods and finds one more attempt up his sleeve to deter me. “You must know that they won’t let you run off under your own vendetta, not with a war on. You’ll be forced to follow all the rules and protocols.”
“I think you forgot I worked for Mr. Morgan for 10 years and was a good soldier for Uncle Sam before that.”
James gives me an unimpressed look. “I think the Minister of Defense will be a bit more strict about protocol than good ole Mr. Morgan, or Uncle Sam for that matter.”
The idea of working directly for Winston Churchill does stir up some nerves, but nothing that makes me question my choices.
I could never question such an easy thing as giving my services over to be used for good.
Lillian had died for a world devoid of darkness, but no sacrifice could ever rid something so permanent as evil.
What she did do was spare the world more of it, and I will always worship her for that.
For that, I will always make the choice to remain on the right side of history.
My fingers curl around the folder, itching to open it and see the faces of the men now on my list. “When can we start?” I ask.
A flicker of uncertainty flashes across James’s face, but like a good little spy, he manages to tamp it down quickly. Holding out his hand to me, I take it and we shake.
With a nod he moves to stand. “I’ll be in touch,” he says slowly. I know he doesn’t expect me to answer. Taking his coat in one hand and my glass in the other, he chugs what’s left of it down and tosses his coat over his shoulder.
I’m left alone with the identities of 17 men who have already become my purpose. Their deaths will be my revenge. They will hide behind war and their precious leader, but that could not possibly stop me.
To finally be able to find peace in Lillian’s death, nothing could be a barrier.
As the pub door closes behind James, the whisper of a familiar breeze washes through the small pub. I already know what it’s going to say before it reaches me.
Find me.
For the first time, I decide to answer it.
I will.