Chapter 8
CHAPTER 8
J ack was worried about Lizzie, but he didn’t want her to know. After their bumpy start, it was critical she believed he had total faith in her ability to operate behind enemy lines.
‘You leave tomorrow,’ he told her.
In the brief time he’d known her, he’d learnt to interpret some of her facial expressions. He could see she was worried too, and like him was pretending not to be. The only difference between them was, he’d had a great deal more experience at controlling his emotions during his long-standing career with Military Intelligence.
‘It’s normal to be scared,’ he said. ‘The key thing is you’re a quick thinker and fast on your feet. You will be fine.’
‘The waiting around is getting to me,’ she said, abandoning the pretence. ‘I wish I could just leave now.’
Jack nodded. ‘Waiting is always tough but use the time wisely. Don’t let nerves play tricks on you, so you start second guessing yourself. You are the best person for this assignment, and you are ready. I was an idiot not to see that straight away. ’
‘I won’t argue with that.’
Jack laughed out loud and grimaced. ‘Ouch.’
‘What should I do then?’
‘Everything is squared away with your family, correct?’
It was Lizzie’s turn to nod. ‘Yes, they think I’m attending an intensive translation course and need to stay over on site.’
‘When do they expect you back?’
‘I did what you said and told them I’m unsure of the exact day, but I may be away the whole week or longer. I said my boss will be in touch.’
Drake knew his star translator would be absent from the office, and he was prepped for any questions from Lizzie’s family.
‘Good girl,’ Jack said absentmindedly.
‘Just because you’re older than me doesn’t mean you can treat me like a child, you know,’ Lizzie said.
‘Of course not. Forgive the expression. How old are you, Lizzie?’ Jack asked, forcing back the smile he knew would only antagonise her more.
‘Don’t play with me. You know exactly how old I am. I wouldn’t be surprised if you know what colour my toothbrush is, and the name of my school. You know everything about me because it’s your job to know.’
‘Goodness. You are extra feisty today. The Nazis have no idea who they’re up against!’
‘You can joke, but I’m deadly serious. You think I’m a child, but I am twenty-one. I’m a grown woman and old enough to do this mission. Please don’t treat me like a fool.’
Jack was only too aware she was a grown woman. And a gorgeous one at that. He’d been holding himself firmly in check and trying not to see her that way, but it was becoming more difficult.
The last thing he could afford was a romantic liaison with an agent. Getting too close spelt danger and set one up for carelessness. Mistakes in his line of business cost lives.
Hannah had quite possibly been captured and tortured by the Nazis for information—or transported to a concentration camp somewhere. If they suspected she was a German Jew, her chances of survival were even slimmer than that of a French member of the Resistance. The thought that she might be dead plagued him night and day, no matter how he tried not to dwell on it.
He had no intention of endangering Lizzie any more than required to put her in touch with the network to complete the mission. She’d only had the most basic training, but he could see how smart she was.
Despite his years of experience as an agent, he hadn’t slept properly since Hannah went silent. His dreams morphed into nightmares—full of anxiety and terrifying images of the Nazis and their evil murder machine. He saw Hannah, and others he knew who had sacrificed themselves for the war.
When he awoke each morning after a fretful night fighting with himself to get some sleep, his sheets were damp and twisted, and his head pounded. Sheer grit was the only thing keeping him going. Oh, and coffee. As awful as the acorn coffee tasted, and it was grim, it was considerably better than nothing.
No, Elizabeth Beaumont. It cannot go that way with us, no matter how gorgeous you are.
‘When you’re as old as me, everyone is a child,’ he said lightly to diffuse the growing tension. He needed Lizzie focused on the mission. Retrieving the vital intelligence for tilting the odds in their favour and assessing the status of the Reims Resistance network would depend on Lizzie’s ability to stay cool in the coming days. After observing her closely, he would put money on the fact that she was a natural at espionage.
‘Exactly how old are you?’ Lizzie prodded, not easily deflected.
He was amused by her sassiness. Most women, and men too for that matter, deferred to him and rarely questioned him like she did. He was a high-ranking intelligence officer, and he had worked hard to create an aura of authority—to erect a shield around himself that deterred people from getting too close. It was better that way.
For Jack to do his job, he couldn’t deal with unnecessary distractions. He must find Hannah and get his hands on the intelligence she had gathered if they were to have a chance at winning this bloody war.
He played along anyway. ‘How old do you think?’
They had prepared Lizzie as well as they could for her brief foray into the world of the Resistance, and he wanted her rested and calm for when she would parachute into Reims. He felt sick just at the thought of this innocent young woman risking her life, when just a few days ago she had never heard his name. The responsibility of what he had to get people to do weighed heavily on him.
‘Hmm, let me see. You must be at least forty-five,’ she said, keeping a straight face, but he saw the teasing light in her warm green eyes.
‘You cheeky mare,’ he said, and he watched her dissolve into laughter. It was a most delightful tinkling sound, and he found himself wanting to hear more.
‘Well, it’s you who talks about yourself like you’re an ancient has-been. What am I supposed to think?’
He snorted and laughed, rolling his eyes. ‘The fact that you think forty-five is ancient shows just how young you are. I rest my case!’
They stood in a small room at St. Ermin’s. It was the room Jack used as an office when he operated from the hotel. Generally, he preferred to work from the shabby flat where he had first interviewed Lizzie, but sometimes the job called him into HQ.
In a perfect world, Lizzie would not know the SOE offices in St. Ermin’s existed. It was better that way in case agents were caught.
If they had more time, Lizzie would have gone for extensive training in the countryside, where she could practice in the open, and they would put her through all kinds of tests.
The secret service had requisitioned stately homes specifically for this purpose, but they had a long way to go until they were set up with enough proper training facilities. There were ambitious plans for a paratrooper facility too, where they could send agents for parachute training, but in this case, they had to make do.
The only consolation was no one in their right mind would think a young woman would be trained to parachute into France, in a hotel in the centre of London. He and Val had engineered the most fundamental training they could on site, and Lizzie had passed all their tests with flying colours. They had given her lessons in basic map reading, unarmed combat, field craft and signalling with radio comms even though she wouldn’t take a wireless with her. And the big one—how to land safely with a parachute.
Their laughter died away, and he said, ‘I suggest you get some sleep whilst you can. You’ve been allocated a room, correct? You may not see a proper bed again until we pick you up, which could be several days.’
‘Yes, Val explained. My stuff is in the room.’
‘Excellent. I’ll walk you there now. I have some things to do before you leave.’
‘What about you?’
‘What about me? ’
‘Don’t you ever sleep?’
‘I sleep when I can. Don’t worry about me. It’s you who needs to sleep now.’
‘Alright,’ Lizzie agreed somewhat grudgingly.
They walked to the door of her assigned hotel room and lingered outside. The hallway was narrow, and they stood close to each other.
Jack found it hard to resist the magnetic pull and to put distance between them. The thought that tomorrow might be the last time he saw her flashed through his head. He chased it away. This was no place or time for sentimentality.
‘Will I see you before I go?’ she said.
Even as he rejected sentimentality, he decided to fly with her into Reims the following night. ‘Yes,’ he said. ‘Yes, I’ll be with you when you go in. And I’ll see you tomorrow for more training before we set off.’
She gave him a grateful smile.
‘Now, get some sleep,’ he said, clenching his hand at his side to resist the urge to touch the shiny chestnut lock of hair that had fallen over her face.
‘Okay, okay,’ she said, brushing her hair aside with an impatient movement. ‘Just one more thing before I do.’
‘Yes?’ he said, wishing his life wasn’t so complicated and he could kiss her right then and there.
‘Tell me how old you really are.’
He sighed. ‘You are enough to wear anyone down, Lizzie Beaumont.’
‘So I’ve been told,’ she said, tilting her head coquettishly to one side. ‘But don’t avoid the question again, please.’
‘If you must know, I’m thirty-three. Not that ancient, but not that young either.’
The air between them sizzled, and he knew she felt it, too.
‘Go on in,’ he said, touching her elbow and steering her gently to face the door. ‘Get some sleep, and I’ll be here when you wake up. Someone will knock on your door when it’s time.’
Then she did something for which he was wholly unprepared. She swivelled back around to face him, until she was close enough to stand in the circle of his arms. Her delicate scent surrounded him, and his body responded instinctively, but he stopped himself from drawing her closer. Lizzie reached up and pressed her warm lips to his cheek.
‘Thank you, Jack,’ she whispered.
He felt her unexpected kiss in every cell of his body. Before he could reply, she slipped through the door without looking back. He stood there reeling like a drowning man whose life raft had been snatched away.