Chapter 18
Chapter Eighteen
Jack
The first, fingerlike streaks of hazy morning sunlight had crept into the sky as Jack stepped down from the train carriage into Lydda junction, a few miles southwest of Tel Aviv.
A maze of rail lines and stone buildings planted in the middle of Palestine fields, the hub served as a central location to all the major Middle Eastern rail lines—and here they would face British border control again.
The fact that they’d made it through the border agents at Kantara with no issue had relieved some of Jack’s worries about Theo and Ruby the night before. The forged paperwork had held up, and neither of them seemed to blink twice or show a bit of discomfort under the scrutiny of the officers.
Then again, they are criminals. They’re good actors.
Gravel crunched against Jack’s boots on the packed-earth platform, the station seeming to come to life with the train’s arrival.
They’d traveled overnight from Kantara—much to Theo’s dismay—and Jack hadn’t slept well.
Maybe if it had just been Ruby there, he would have been all right, but Theo’s presence made Jack feel as though he needed to always keep one eye open.
Jack clocked the immigration control office near the exit gate—a whitewashed box with a Union Jack limply hanging in the still air.
Britain had taken over administration of the region with the Palestinian Mandate after the war, but Jack had been in the region for so long that he still saw the ghosts of the Ottoman officers who once patrolled here.
He half expected to turn a corner and see them there, wearing their fez hats.
Not that he missed the Ottomans. But so much had changed for this region in such a short span of time.
“Nervous?” Ruby asked, stepping beside him. She followed the direction of his gaze toward the border agents.
Somewhere beyond the platform, the train for Jerusalem whistled sharply, announcing an imminent departure. Jack rolled his shoulders back, feeling tension coiling in his gut. If the forgery was discovered, or someone recognized him, everything would fall apart fast.
But, no—he wasn’t nervous.
“I’m fine,” he said, then gave her a tense smile. “You?”
Ruby adjusted her headscarf and grinned. “Would I sound crazy if I said this is actually fun?”
Fun? That’s one way to put it.
“Yes,” he said with a chuckle. Her Southern accent had remained during their last few interactions—maybe it was her real accent after all. “But I don’t mind crazy from time to time.”
Theo came up beside his sister and rolled his eyes. “If you two are done making cow eyes at each other, we should get through immigration.”
Jack shot him a glare. “You always this punchable first thing in the morning?”
“Always,” Ruby said with a laugh. She linked arms with Jack. “Let’s go.”
She had a warmth to her that startled Jack, especially for someone that had to be used to seeing the uglier side of humanity. And, amid the mix of scents at the train station, she smelled good too. Like roses or something.
He’d forgotten how appealing that could be.
He hadn’t enjoyed a woman’s company for a long time—maybe a bit of penance from his younger years, when he’d tried to forget his love for Kit and bury the horrors of the war in the arms of women who hadn’t meant anything at all.
He tried to be careful—didn’t want to end up with a war baby or in the ward for venereal diseases like so many poor saps had done—but it hadn’t really helped that much, either.
Short love affairs left him emptier and lonelier than before.
And after Ginger had chosen her marriage to Noah over the one with him, he’d sworn off women altogether.
They drew closer to the immigration officer’s station, and Jack focused on the man’s bent head. Beside him, Ruby shifted her weight and released his arm, fanning herself with her hand. The morning was still pretty mild—maybe it was jitters making her sweat.
At last, it was Jack’s turn. He turned over the forged paperwork, giving the officer a curt smile. The officer barely glanced at him, thumbing through the paperwork with a grim, bored expression. A rubber stamp moments later completed the process, and the officer waved Jack through with a grunt.
Maybe he isn’t fond of mornings, either.
Either way, Jack was through. The tension in his chest unknotted slowly as he stepped through to the other side of the station, leaving Ruby and Theo behind him. He oriented himself as he adjusted the strap of the satchel over his shoulder.
Thank goodness that was easy. He’d expected more of a hiccup, to be honest, and maybe it was just that he felt pessimism creeping in on him more the older he got.
He started in the direction of the ticket office, when a male voice behind him called, “Jack Darby.”
Jack paused mid-step, his mind jolting at the sound of his name as his heart kicked in his ribs.
Dammit.
Oh, God. If someone recognized me …
For a heartbeat, he wondered if he’d misheard. A trick of the crowd, the steam, the bleating train whistle. Maybe if he kept moving—
A hand clamped around his elbow, iron hard, killing that hope.
He swung around, pulse snapping with electricity, already trying to think of an excuse. The man in front of him was a stranger—British uniform, polished boots, pistol already drawn.
The man menaced closer. “All right. You’re coming with me.”
Jack’s mouth went dry. Behind the British officer’s shoulder, the station blurred—faces, carts, crates. He searched for Ruby, found her halfway through the immigration checkpoint, her eyes wide with horror, her lips forming a frantic no.
Don’t do it, sweetheart.
But she took a step toward him anyway, desperation in every line of her body.
She’s going to give herself away.
Theo grabbed her from behind, gripping her tight enough to restrain her. His name slipped from her lips, just barely loud enough for him to hear. She struggled against him, but he hissed something in her ear that stopped her cold.
Jack’s stomach twisted. He could bolt, but with Ruby trying to come after him, she would pay for it—and that was the goddamn problem.
Think. Breathe.
Jack lifted his hands, dimly aware of the stares of other passengers around him as he mustered a slow, hollow laugh. “No need for dramatics, mate. I’m not armed.” That was a lie, of course, but it might settle the officer for now.
The officer’s scowl barely moved. “We’ll see about that.” His eyes flicked to the satchel, then back to Jack. “Move. This way. Keep your hands in front of you, where I can see you.”
Jesus H. Christ. He moved forward through the sea of staring strangers. What a fool you are, Darby. You knew this was coming.
Breathing slowly, Jack kept his expression hidden, scanning for any opportunity to bolt and run. This wasn’t a great place for it—British military police and local authorities were all posted nearby … and he could get shot. But if he didn’t run?
He’d get through this. This wasn’t the worst scrape he’d been in. So long as he figured a way out of this before the authorities reported this to anyone and Prescott got word of his location, he’d be able to get back on track.
Of course, once authorities did report this, Prescott and his men would know his last known location by hours rather than days.
He kept his gaze down as the officer led him to a squat stone building nearby. Holding the door open, he waved Jack through.
The office—if that’s what it was—was a simple, stifling box. A single barred cell stood in the corner, a weathered wooden desk beside it. Two rickety chairs—one in front and one behind the desk—rounded out the décor.
The gate to the cell gave a loud groan as the officer opened it. “Give me your bags and get inside.”
Jack restrained a sigh, removed the satchel and his kitbag, then slipped into the cell. The cell door slammed shut behind him, followed by the metallic scrape of the key into the lock. Jack turned and shot the officer a look, but he was already sitting and lighting a cigarette.
A minute later, the door to the building opened and Theo strutted inside, smug as a tomcat who’d found the cream. He stopped, gave Jack a long glance, and the corners of his mouth twitched.
He looks … pleased.
Jack frowned, looking for Ruby to follow, but … nothing. She didn’t appear.
Is this some sort of ridiculous rescue mission?
Theo closed the door, then latched it shut. He tossed a glare at the officer. “Could you have been any more obvious? You were seen, you know.”
“And?” The officer blew out a stream of smoke, bored. “I have every right to arrest him.”
The exchange had been too familiar.
A sinking feeling spread through Jack’s chest, and his hands shifted to the bars of the cell.
That irritating grin of Theo made him grind his teeth, his knuckles feeling an old, familiar itch to punch someone.
If he hadn’t been locked in the cage, he’d have laid the bastard out cold.
He set his forehead against the cold metal. “Friend of yours, Theo?”
“Shut up, Darby.” Theo approached him with a cool look.
“You see, I’m not the one breaking the law here.
I crossed the border with my own passport.
Ruby too. So the way I see it, if you want to avoid prison, you’ll pay up.
Now. Every last cent you promised my sister and more. And then we’ll go our separate ways.”
Theo smirked, then sauntered over to one of Jack’s bags and started rifling through it.
Jack ground his teeth. Not again. This asshole isn’t really trying to rob me again—is he?
But he’d been foolish. He’d shown the depth of his pockets to two thieves.
Just when he’d started to like Ruby a bit more too.
He could kick himself. Like her for what—smelling nice and having a pretty face? He didn’t know anything about her.
God, what did I expect? Loyalty from a street thief?
Jack let out a soft, humorless laugh. “You and your sister really ought to take your grift to Hollywood. They’d eat it up.”