Chapter 11 #3
Goddammit. She must’ve taken a seaplane; it’s the only way she could’ve gotten here before we did. I’m not sure how she knew to find us in Messina, but clearly we didn’t leave as stealthily as we thought we did.
Or, someone tipped her off.
Though he never said it, Pierre might’ve known where we were headed. Or he could’ve guessed based on Bes mentioning Italy when he offered to drop him off in France. Though, I can’t say whether he would’ve told her outright or under duress.
Anger and frustration strike through my veins. I should’ve killed that fascist bitch when I had the chance.
Even in my current state, I recognize the hypocrisy: Claude’s death haunts me even now, and will continue to haunt me for the rest of my days. Not killing Claude straight after I took his weapon from him came with a price—namely, Bes and I nearly being gunned down outside the Temple of Seti I.
Killing Ingrid… that would’ve had a different price altogether: my soul.
Now, with Ailsa dead, likely at Ingrid’s command, it’s as if I pulled the trigger on the Scotswoman myself.
Frozen in place, I watch her peer down into the water where Ailsa’s body disappeared, a cruel sneer yanking at the corners of her lips—when her attention snaps to me. Heart slamming into my throat, I get to my feet and stumble back toward the helm, Bes at my heels, praying she didn’t recognize me.
How did she even know where we were?
Back inside the helm, I turn on him and demand, “How did the God Men find us?”
Bes takes the wheel from Cec—which I now realize is why we’ve been going straight this entire time—and angles the boat swiftly along the curled tip of the port.
“Besides that woman from the museum—”
“Ingrid,” I supply.
“—who you should have killed, those weren’t God Men: they were the OVRA soldiers we told you about, back in Alexandria. Ingrid must’ve sent a telegram to Germany prior to hopping a seaplane here. Somehow, the God Men have been made aware of our movements and have requested Mussolini’s help.”
Regret sits in my stomach like a rock. “Do you think it was Pierre who told her?”
Bes shakes his head vehemently. “Not possible.”
I furrow my brow. “But you can’t know—”
“We can, and we do,” Cec cuts in.
I flinch; I’d forgotten he was there.
Frustration frays my nerves. “Loyalty is one thing, but I never expected blind loyalty from either of you.”
They don’t respond.
I turn back to Bes, my anger rising although admittedly misdirected. “Why was Ailsa alone, anyway? Why weren’t you down there with her?”
His brow pinches, as if he feels the guilt as keenly as I do. Good, he should.
“The OVRA soldiers…” he starts to explain after a long pause. “They ambushed us while we were on our way back to the boat with the supplies. I managed to evade them, but Ailsa—” He shakes his head, cutting himself off.
“Why wouldn’t she just let them arrest her?” I wonder. “Why resist when she knew it would get her killed?”
“Would you have let the God Men arrest you? Capture you?” Bes asks. “These soldiers are no different than them.”
I suppose not.
Cec pipes up. “She couldn’t afford to get caught—none of us can. They would’ve tortured her for information, and then killed her when she didn’t break. This way, at least, the secrets she protected die with her.”
Bes shoots Cec a look, his cousin completely unaware of it.
Secrets she protected? What could be so important that she’d be willing to meet an untimely death rather than tell them what they want to know?
“What sort of information could she have to warrant torture?” I ask.
Jaw ticking, Bes refuses to answer, won’t even meet my eyes.
Cec chooses this moment to jest. As if someone he knew wasn’t just murdered. He must’ve heard the gunshots, heard the body hit the water, or, at the very least, followed along with our conversation and noted the lack of Ailsa’s presence…
“If we told you, we’d have to kill you.”
I glance back at him, not finding the usual grin on his face. “I’m starting to think that’s not hyperbole.”
“Have we done something to cause a lack of faith, Miss Hawkins?” Bes wonders.
I find his expression guarded. “No, but I’d like to understand why you’re lying to me. Faith doesn’t come naturally to me, Bes. Especially after all I’ve been through these past few days. It must be earned.”
His lips twitch up into a sad smile and then settle back into a line. “An admirable trait.” He grips the back of his neck. “Yes, we are lying to you, but none of the lies we tell will put you or the amulet in danger. Your trust in us will have to be affirmed in our actions rather than our words.”
“What’s so damned important you can’t tell me?”
He considers this. “Our lies are to protect other people.”
“Including me,” I finish.
“We promised you we’d keep you safe,” Cec says. “And we mean to keep that promise, Hawkins.”
“Even if I no longer want to run from these God Men?” I ask.
“You have no idea what sort of trouble you’re getting yourself into if you choose that path,” Bes claims. “At this moment, we’re being forced to play their game. Once we get to Arturo’s, we’ll be in control. Trust us.”
I recall the conversation I woke up to this morning: We won’t be able to keep the truth from her for much longer.
“As long as you’re being honest with me,” I say finally.
Bes avoid my gaze. “As honest as we can be.”