Chapter 4
Chapter Four
Jack finished plucking a shard of glass from the back of Noah’s arm, then set the bloodied tweezers down. “I think that’s all of it.”
“You’re a terrible nurse,” Noah said with a grimace, then dabbed the bleeding wounds with the edge of his robe.
“Yeah, well, you’re spoiled.” Jack cleaned the medical supplies in the dim light.
After Noah had jumped, they’d gone on the run, finally taking shelter in a boarded-up school once operated by Catholic monks.
The Turks had seized the building at the war’s beginning, then abandoned it.
Abdullah’s men had given them a good chase, too.
Noah didn’t quite know how he hadn’t broken both his legs, though he’d grabbed onto a clothesline that had slowed his fall.
Unable to return to Jack’s rented room, they’d spent all day waiting for sunset.
Jack had done his best to remove the glass from Noah’s arms, but the circumstances had forced some smaller shards to wait until nightfall, when they could return to Jack’s room and use instruments.
The wounds were puffy and red now and considerably more painful.
The map had survived but was the worse for wear. Some ink had smudged in the rain. Nothing to be done about it now. There’d be no map if he hadn’t jumped. And he’d be dead.
“We’ll need another disguise before we leave.” Jack’s brow set in concentration. “I only have one woman’s burqa.”
“Two overly large women? We may as well send up a flare.” The mental image made Noah chuckle.
“Good point.”
Noah pinched a deep wound on his forearm together.
He probably needed stitches. The memory of Ginger leaning over him, stitching a similar wound he’d received in the desert, came back to him.
She’d insisted later he try to cover it to avoid a scar.
Blood seeped between his fingers. Her skilled hands would be a relief here.
Anger at Stephen soon replaced the thought of her.
“Do you think Stephen has been in Jerusalem the whole time?” he asked out loud.
If only he’d thought to take a shot at Fisher while in that damnable room.
Lord Helton would have been furious—he wanted Fisher brought in alive and had specifically avoided assigning Noah to search for Fisher.
He believed Noah wouldn’t hesitate to kill him, given the opportunity.
“I doubt it.” Jack put his first-aid kit in his bag.
“But you never know. Unfortunately, he’s spent the last few years becoming an ‘expert’ in this region.
Between his contacts with locals and his allegiance with the Turks, he’s enjoyed even more freedom moving around the Transjordan and Syria than either of us. ”
Stephen. An Orientalist. Noah’s jaw set.
How many times had Stephen bumbled through his Arabic, disrespecting the local sheiks when he’d traveled with Noah?
He had little love for this region or its people.
Exploiting it, to be sure. “But if Braddock had an oil concession with Ibn Saud and Stephen knew about it, wouldn’t he have simply tried to take the concession for himself?
Rather than tell Abdullah about it, that is. ”
“Maybe he doesn’t have the contract. Lord Braddock didn’t completely trust him, especially not at the end.
He could have put those things somewhere more secure.
” Jack studied the equipment at the rickety desk in his room.
Expensive transmitters and receivers. He’d been intercepting messages from submarines in the Mediterranean, working to decode them.
The work Jack did had the potential to save thousands of lives and now he’d have to abandon it for some time in order to help Noah.
The risk of pulling Jack away from his assignment was something Lord Helton had known.
It only proved how much the British government prioritized the search for oil in this region.
Noah had heard rumors of oil seepages throughout the Arabian peninsula, but had Lord Braddock known something more?
“That concession must have cost Braddock a fortune.”
“William D’Arcy paid tens of thousands to the Persian government for his concession—and that was just for the right to dig for oil.” Jack pulled a crate out from under his desk and set it on the chair. “Ibn Saud would be a fool to sell a concession for anything less. And we both know he’s no fool.”
“Braddock didn’t have that sort of money, in the end.” Noah shifted, the cot creaking below him. “Which makes me think Stephen must have helped fund that concession.” Noah bent his arm, examining the long, angry scratches above his elbow. “It could even be why Braddock was so in debt to Stephen.”
“Probably.” Jack set equipment into the crate. A wry grin lit his face. “If that’s the case, you know how Lord Braddock made a small fortune in the oil business? He started with a large one.”
Noah chuckled at the terrible joke. Jack never missed an opportunity to inject humor into every type of situation.
Jack’s expression sobered and he shrugged. “My guess is Stephen’s not an official part of that agreement between Braddock and the Saud and that makes him angry. But he also has some reason for letting the British government know about it.”
“Have there been oil explorations that far south?” Noah unfolded the map Abdullah had given him and scanned the area around the Arabian peninsula.
They’d taken shifts sleeping in the schoolhouse, but neither had slept well.
His eyes burned around the rims. He’d have to push through without rest. Night was the safest time for them to move.
“Ever since T.E. Lawrence started dealing with the Husseins, Ibn Saud’s lands and support haven’t seemed too important to the Brits.
” Jack came to stand beside Noah, crossing his arms. He looked down at the map.
“You know, Kirkuk is promised to the French after the war. Your country is going to want to know about oil there.”
“I may go to Baghdad from here. Speak to Gertrude Bell directly. I wouldn’t be surprised if we suddenly forget our promises to the French.” Noah grimaced, knowing how it sounded.
Giving up oil meant giving up power. With navies and armies increasingly dependent on oil for their ships and vehicles, only those in charge of the oil supply would rise to the top.
Whoever controlled it at the end of this war would be the true winner.
Whoever controlled the oil controlled the world.
Jack shook his head. “Don’t get me wrong. I’d still throw my weight in with your country if I had to do it again—but does anyone over in Cairo or London have any idea what the hell they’re doing with this part of the world? The bureaucrats don’t know a damned thing about these people.”
“No, they don’t.” Noah cleared the acid from his throat. His conflict about the deceit simmered low in his gut. “Though I’m not sure what the best option is. The Ottomans are falling apart. This area is likely to dissolve into a chaos of warring tribes clamoring over the same lands.”
Jack smirked. “Face it. No one would give a damn about any of that if there wasn’t a fortune to be made in oil out here.
I’m not saying other governments are less guilty of this, but since when has the British government ever colonized an area that didn’t give back more than its share of natural resources? ”
Noah folded the map in front of him. Jack was right. This map was only further evidence—learning the exact details of all the known oil concessions had been such a priority to his superiors that they’d pulled him from his work on the offensive.
“What’s your plan with Abdullah’s claim about Lord Braddock?
” Jack moved to the back of the room, where a small wardrobe stood.
He opened the door to reveal an arsenal of rifles, pistols, and ammunition.
He pulled a couple of canvas bags out and packed two rifles into them.
Despite his calm demeanor, there was a sense of urgency in his movements.
“I don’t know.” Noah joined him in packing.
The cuts and scratches on his arms throbbed, and his body felt as though he’d been beaten by a sack of rocks.
Just a few more hours. Then he could sleep.
“’I may not tell Helton about it. I can’t help but feel partially responsible for what happened to the Whitman women.
My investigation into Braddock exposed them. And now they’re destitute.”
Jack bent, gathering a few rations and canteens.
“If the concession can be found, if it ends up being a location that has oil. If we get out of this goddamn city. That’s a lot of ifs.
” Then he said with a more pointed look, “But if Lord Helton finds out that you knew and withheld it from him—you’re looking at trouble. ”
Noah pursed his lips. “But as of right now, the only people who know I know anything are you, Stephen, and Abdullah. The chances of Helton learning of it are remote. And if I can help Ginger and her family—”
“It might make you feel less guilty?” Jack closed a bag and lifted it onto his shoulder with effort. He put it back down and took a few things out. “Because that’s all it will do. Her family isn’t ever going to accept or like you.”
“I know.” Lady Braddock’s last interaction with him resurfaced. Women of her class didn’t show their outrage vocally, but her fury with him had been clear. In her eyes, he’d ruined her daughter and brought scandal and shame to her family.
“Have you ever told Ginger who your mother was?” Jack regarded him with an unreadable expression. “Just curious.”
Noah hadn’t told Ginger much of anything about his past when it really came down to it. “We never had the time to discuss it.”