Chapter 9 #2
“I think that’s from a week ago.”
A week. Jack stared at the date on the paper. A week would mean the article, if it had been a cable dispatch from Baghdad, might have been sent three days before it was published.
His heart raced. “This …” He tried to formulate the words. “This means—if it is her—that she might have been alive and maybe even in Baghdad ten days ago.” She’s probably lived in Baghdad for a while if she’s a correspondent there.
Noah nodded. “It’s a good possible starting point. Checking in with my contacts in Baghdad will easily confirm if Gretchen Herbert has been working from there. If you’re right about that being her.”
Jack’s gut burned. He gripped the paper hard enough to crumple it. Was he dredging up ghosts pointlessly—or had Kit just reached out to him across the years, across a continent, in ink and print? This had to be more than just a coincidence.
But up until this, a part of Jack had still rejected the idea that she could be alive. If she was, then Noah needed more information—the part of the story he’d never been ready to talk about.
“There’s something I need to tell you.” Jack stashed the paper away and paced for a moment. He glanced out the darkened window of the train, looking out into the inky blackness of the French countryside at night. “About Kit and who she was. Something I should have told you fifteen years ago.”
The tips of Noah’s mouth curved into a grim smile. “I think I already know, Jack. I suspected it when I saw you together. I just didn’t ask, because I knew if you weren’t telling me, it was for her safety—or because of what it could cost you.”
Jack paused, his words catching in his throat. When I saw you together. Then Noah did know. Because, otherwise, he wouldn’t be pretending he’d ever met Kit. Of course Noah knew. He was too smart, too perceptive not to figure it out. “Then—”
“Besides the fact that you’re my friend and I owe you more than I can say, I’ll admit I joined you on this for selfish reasons. If Kit is alive, then the news is bound to have an impact on Ginger. And it raises a lot of questions.”
Jack’s lips pursed. He should have told both Noah and Ginger more about Kit during those brief days when they’d met her. But Kit had asked him not to reveal her true identity to anyone, and his loyalty to her had stopped him.
The two men stared at each other, the air between them rife with the tension of so much unspoken. Of a time that neither of them wanted to revisit or remember. The most painful years of both their lives.
Their friendship had been formed as innocent youths and had been tested by fire. The end of the war had put them through hell and back and—somehow—they’d survived still seeing each other as brothers.
Jack nodded wordlessly, his attention drawn to something else. The train had slowed, but they weren’t expected at the next station for hours.
Noah stood, his gaze darting to the door. He crossed toward it, checked the lock, and Jack groaned.
“You think it’s for us?”
Noah turned back toward him. “Could be something innocuous, like cattle wandering over the tracks, but chances are it’s not. And if it’s not, we don’t have a lot of time.”
“Prescott has a lot of sway, but I doubt he has the authority to stop a train.” Jack went over to the bed and began pulling his bags from the storage rack overhead.
“My thoughts exactly. It’s probably Knight. He would be able to manage it with the clearance he has and cooperation from the French.” Noah cleared his throat. “Which is why I’m going to stay here. Give you time to get away.”
Jack’s jaw slackened. “Noah, don’t—”
Noah’s expression was resolute. “I’ll be fine.
Knight will be satisfied with bringing me in.
I’ll join you in Cairo if I can. But if I’m not there in four days, go to Jerusalem and find Fahad.
He’ll help. And contact Hayyan al-Khaliq Arif in Baghdad about ‘Gretchen.’” He went over to the window and pushed it open.
“In the meantime, this is your chance to get there without further interference.” He held out his hand.
Jack stared at him, dimly aware of the sound of the wheels screeching. “You don’t have to offer yourself as bait,” Jack rasped.
“I do. Because if he’s tracked us this far, he won’t quit. And there’s far more at stake for you if you continue to be delayed, Jack. If necessary, I’ll negotiate for you with Knight. Make sure that the risk you took coming for my help wasn’t in vain. But go. Now. Before it’s too late.”
“I can’t let you do this—”
Noah chuckled. “This isn’t the end of the line for us—just for you. Good-bye, Jack.” Before Jack could protest further, Noah pushed one of Jack’s bags out of the window.
“You sunnofa—” Jack shook his head. “You really know how to make a man feel welcome.”
“You’d better go get it.”
He’d be lucky to find the bag in one piece.
With one final grunt, Jack grabbed his other bag and swung his legs into the window well. He held his breath, taking one last glance back at his friend. So many debts between them—ones that could never be repaid. And now Noah was taking on one more.
Jack’s gut twisted with guilt. But there was no time to dwell on it.
He jumped.