Chapter 10 #2
Hower gave him a patient smile. “We’ve created the cover of a dig in Khirbet Qeiyafa—just outside of Jerusalem.
The sooner, the better. Chancellor Hitler has been sending envoys to the Arabs.
We need men there that we can trust. We can, of course, move your family to Egypt if it helps.
But as you’re already away from home and have no current employment, we’d prefer for you to go immediately. ”
“I’m employed with educating my children.” Noah tried not to allow the comment to bother him. Then, for the sole purpose of seeming less informed than he was, he asked, “Are you suggesting our alliances with the Arabs are failing?”
Hower studied him. “Surely, you know the answer to that, Benson. The Arabs are difficult to pacify—nothing but a bunch of warring, uncivilized tribesmen as far as I’m concerned.
Even Faisal Hussein and his brothers, who made such a big show of supporting us during the Arab Revolt and in posing for pictures with T.E.
Lawrence—were already in the process of exploring alliances with the Germans before the war’s end.
They can barely agree on anything amongst themselves. ”
Noah didn’t answer. Hower wasn’t entirely wrong about any of it, though the broad strokes of his prejudice clouded the tone of his answer.
The Arab tribes, particularly the Hashemites under the Hussein family and the people united under Ibn Saud in the peninsula, had different visions of a united Arabia—mostly due to differences in their worship.
And at the heart of it all, a swath of promised land along the coast of the Levant that no one seemed to be able to agree what to do with—and Jerusalem, a beating heart of three global religions. Add the lure of oil fields, and the entire Middle East was a breeding ground for conflict.
Noah crossed his arms, choosing not to tell Hower any more about what he knew of the region. “I’ve already told Knight I have no desire to return to the intelligence world. Nothing has changed my mind, Hower.”
Hower leaned forward, the tips of his incisors showing under his upper lip, giving him a ruthless, menacing look.
“Come now, Benson. You might be able to use that line of reasoning with some, but I know better. Your record during the war speaks of a man who was a finely tuned instrument. Effective. And willing to take risks. That sort of spark doesn’t just die because you’ve settled down.
And you have even more you’re willing to protect now than you did then. ”
There was that not-so-subtle threat toward his family again. Noah’s breathing grew shallow. “Then I suppose I had better not risk them in the first place.”
“Do you think your son would feel the same way? I understand the lad has … quite an aptitude for the clandestine, just like his father. A handful of years from now and I’m certain we could find a place for—”
“Enough.” Noah’s tone was more of a full-throated growl now. He curled his fingers into his palm. “My family is not to enter this discussion. Otherwise you will not find me receptive to your overtures.”
“But that’s the problem, isn’t it, Benson?
” Hower sighed and drummed his thumb against the top of the folio.
“You always knew the ghosts of your past would come haunting. They never have stopped, have they? And you knew better than to leave yourself vulnerable to attack by surrounding yourself with so many innocent targets—but you couldn’t help yourself.
Not when you found such a pretty wife. You wear your weakness clearly enough.
You think others—including our enemies—won’t exploit it? ”
Noah pinched the bridge of his nose. Nothing Hower said was truly surprising, but the bluntness of his delivery was. Knight had been dancing around these ideas for the last couple of years.
So what had changed?
The world. The world has changed. A shadow is growing once again.
The answer hummed in his mind before he could even think about it.
Knight—and even Hower—could bloviate about patriotism and need and national pride, but it all belied a deeper concern that anyone with any sense could see. In one short year, changes had been enacted in Germany with breathtaking speed. Alarming ones.
And his own government wasn’t content to let him sit this out.
They’d made it clear they wouldn’t stop coming for him.
For many months now, Noah had only grown in his belief that he only had two choices—cooperate with them now, while they were still willing to make concessions, or be forced to play their game later, when he had no leverage left.
Ginger hadn’t seen it that way, though, clinging to her idealism and belief in some sort of innate human goodness because she was good.
“And if I don’t agree to help?”
“Others have tried to go around us, Benson. It hasn’t gone well for them. And surely you have a vested interest in protecting your own family—don’t you?”
The words sent an unnerving chill down Noah’s spine, but he gave no physical reaction.
If he didn’t have command of an excellent memory, he might not have noticed; the words might have rolled right off him without significance. But they stirred a memory instead. Of Jack, sitting across from him at a chessboard, using that precise verbiage to imitate Prescott Federline.
Noah didn’t believe in coincidences—not in this world.
And not when people’s lives were at risk.
Two unconnected men making similar threats?
Impossible.
His throat went impossibly tight as he stared Hower down.
Knight might not be connected to Prescott Federline’s Blackwell organization, but Hower could be.
And if Blackwell had infiltrated MI5, who knew how deeply that went?
Noah didn’t have time to question whether his contacts or the people he knew in MI5 were trustworthy.
Any one of them might be compromised to Blackwell’s probing.
Which meant that any help Noah could hope to offer Jack through official channels was dead. One plant in a world like this marked everyone as potentially suspicious. Jack didn’t want Prescott Federline to be able to track his progress in finding Alice and Kit, but Federline’s reach was too deep.
Only one way to be sure—and he’d have to be stealthy about it.
They’d made a mistake in not restraining him.
Noah lunged suddenly, barreling into Hower with such unexpected force that he knocked the man clear off his chair and onto the floor.
The man shouted with shock. Grabbing Hower by the right arm, Noah forced him onto his stomach and pushed his knee into the man’s back, then shoved his neck down with force.
“Roche!” Hower called, his voice a muffled garble.
Footsteps came running.
Noah pushed Hower’s bent arm up behind his back, his grip like iron. The position forced the man’s sleeve down, enough to expose his wrist, where a wristwatch peeked out.
But there—just barely visible—was the outer edge of a small triskelion tattoo.
I thought so. The discovery brought no satisfaction, though. Just cold, slick dread.
The door opened and shouts sounded. Not just Roche but two French policemen, guns drawn, shouting at Noah.
Noah leaned down menacingly toward Hower. “Call them off,” he gritted into the man’s ear. “I have no intention of harming you, Hower, and am open to negotiations. But you will not threaten my family again.”
He eased off the pressure on the man’s back and neck, standing with his hands raised.
Hower scraped himself from the floor, his face red as a beet. “Stand down!” he spat, wiping his mouth with a handkerchief. He glared at the police, then at Roche. “You’re dismissed. I have everything in hand.”
Roche raised a brow. “Do you?”
Hower adjusted his sleeves then threw a vicious punch at Noah, his fist connecting with painful force that sent Noah reeling backward. He gritted through his teeth, swallowing the pain, then stumbled back into his seat.
He should have expected that.
Noah rubbed his jaw, only vaguely aware of the police and Roche filing back out once again. His mind whizzed with the potential consequences of the situation before him.
Taking his visa was one thing. A minor inconvenience.
What would be next?
If Hower was Federline’s man, then Jack was out of options—nothing could be done to recover Alice through official channels or by using known contacts in the intelligence world.
The level of infiltration could go deeper than they realized.
But Hower couldn’t know that Noah knew he was a Blackwell operative.
It would be too dangerous. For now, Noah would have to play along.
There were no good choices left. Only worse ones. And if he didn’t take control of the leash they were gripping, someone else might. Someone he trusted even less.
Noah wasn’t about to sit around and find out. Ginger would come around, he was certain of that. He just prayed this was the best solution.
As the door closed, Hower turned back toward Noah, his eyes lit with fury. “Was that ugly display really necessary, Benson? I assumed you to be a gentleman.”
“You assumed wrong.” Noah rubbed his jaw.
“If I work for you or for Knight or Kell——you will stay away from my family, do you understand? They will never enter the conversation. You will not contact them, and you will withdraw surveillance from my house. I’ll give you three months of my time, and then we’ll discuss future arrangements from there.
My transit visa will be restored, and I’ll have the ability to travel as I see fit.
And you’ll instruct Alain Roche to help Jack Darby—and open any other door Jack needs right now. ”
“Within reason, of course.”
“Of course.”
“Three months is hardly enough time to train an asset, let alone embed yourself—”
“Take it or leave it. I’m not the one who’s desperate, nor do I need training.”
Hower’s nostrils flared. “Very well. But Knight won’t be happy about it.”
“That matters little to me.” Noah narrowed his eyes. “And, Hower?”
The man tilted his head. “Yes?”
“You do not want to make an enemy of me. I know better than most the fluidity of a government promise. But if my family is harmed in any way, it won’t be the government I come after. It’ll be you.”
Hower chuckled. “Spoken like the man I need for this job.”
The skin on the back of Noah’s neck prickled, a feeling roiling his gut as though he’d just made a deal with the devil. He pushed the feeling away, determined not to show any signs of insecurity. “Where am I heading?”