Page 53 of Hearts of Resistance
Sophia clenched her fists thinking of the way they’d been separated, the way they’d been forced apart, the way he’d been driven to seek refuge and hide in her apartment like a prisoner. She would never understand how he’d managed to stay sane, but he had, and she could only hope that the man she’d left behind would one day find his way back to her. It would be a miracle, but if she didn’t believe, then she wouldn’t be able to keep moving forward and doing the things she needed to do every day. Without Alex in her mind, his words in her head, his face in her memory, she would never have transformed into the woman she’d become.
‘Come on,’ Rose said, touching her back as she passed her, jolting her from her thoughts. ‘Lead the way.’
Sophia walked quickly to get ahead and then set the pace. She could die today, or tomorrow, but at least she knew in her heart that she was fighting for the right side and always had been.
They kept walking, the irregular thump-thump of Harry at the back of the pack the only noise out of place around them. When they were closer, Sophia held up her hands slightly, keeping her head down. She’d walked in like this the last time she was here; she hadn’t even told Rose that the first time she’d arrived with a package she’d been asked for a password by Pierre, the fearsome leader of the French Resistance fighters in the region. At the time she’d known to be scared, but she hadn’t known who he was.
She recoiled, thinking about the way he’d shoved the butt of his gun to her chin, not caring that she was a woman. An enemy was an enemy, and it was clear how ruthless Pierre was from that very first encounter. When she’d insisted there was no password, he’d thrown her down and yelled for someone else to come for her, until she’d been quick enough to think of something to change his mind. There was a whistle, one she’d had to learn before to get the attention of rural fighters deep in a wooded area where she’d been tasked with couriering arms and supplies almost a year earlier, one of her first assignments after she’d landed in France. She’d pursed her lips and softly whistled the tune, then paused and done it again. When he’d burst out laughing and held out a hand, she’d taken it reluctantly, until he’d pulled her hard into his body and kissed her on both cheeks before letting her go again.
‘So it’s true. Our little fox still lives, she’s not a legend,’ he’d said triumphantly, referring to the name she’d been given for her many successful covert missions to blow up enemy lines.
Sophia had insisted she wasn’t worthy of the title, but he’d made a fuss of her and invited her in, interested in the information she’d brought him, written into the silk lining of her skirt, and the package she’d kept carefully hidden in her purse during her travels.
She doubted Pierre would still be here now – he was too important to be in one place for long – but her memory of his blatant brutality was a warning for what could come as they entered.
Sophia was starting to grow concerned at how easily they were approaching the house, wondering if in fact everyone she knew was gone, until she heard a noise in the distance. She sniffed the air, her senses alert, aware that the men who lived here all smelt like they hadn’t bathed in at least a year.
‘Stop,’ she murmured, holding her right hand up high to alert her group.
A man suddenly appeared, rifle cocked, and she smiled, thankful to recognise him. She didn’t know his name, but she did know his face.
‘Fox,’ he said, nodding.
‘We need somewhere to stay,’ she said quickly, gesturing to the others. ‘This is the rest of my circuit. Our house was compromised. We moved before they had a chance to find us and we haven’t been followed.’
‘Who’s he?’ the man asked.
She glanced back at Harry and noticed how terrible he looked. His face looked pained and his skin was slick with sweat.
‘He’s British RAF. We rescued him after a plane crash, and we couldn’t get him on the last shipment with our other packages,’ she said.
‘Get inside. We’re still pretty full in there, but we’ve lost a lot,’ he said. ‘They’re on to us, in more ways than one, and we’re short on supplies.’
Sophia had thought as much. ‘What do you need?’ she asked as they walked to the front door.
‘A damn good radio operator,’ he said without hesitation. ‘Ours have all been taken out.’
‘We happen to have one, and she’s the best you’ll find,’ Sophia told him, pointing to Hazel and watching as she held up her hand. She’d been hard on her since she’d arrived, she knew that, but right now Hazel was valuable to the cause and she was going to stand by her, at least in front of the others. She knew part of her problem was the jealousy slowly simmering inside her at no longer being Rose’s closest ally, not that she’d ever admit it to anyone. ‘Tell her what you need and she’ll do it. We even have our own radio with us.’
‘You still our best courier?’ he asked her.
Sophia smiled. ‘I’m the best at everything I do,’ she said confidently.
‘Then we have a job for you. For all three of you.’
She had a sinking feeling in her stomach for some reason, but she didn’t let her concern show on her face. She nodded. ‘Of course. And him?’ Sophia asked. ‘You’re fine with him staying here until we can find a way to get him out safely?’
‘If he keeps his mouth shut and doesn’t die on us, he’s fine. But he’ll have to figure out a way to make himself useful.’
Sophia knew that was the best she could expect. ‘Fine. Now let’s go in and get this radio set up, and then you can get someone to tell our operator exactly what it is she needs to communicate.’
A new man leaned against the doorjamb once they’d all gone in, his face and hair dirty, his skin tanned dark. Once he had a shower and cleaned up, she imagined he’d be handsome, but right now he simply looked exhausted.
‘Where’s Pierre?’ Sophia asked.
His face turned to steel. ‘Gone. I’m the new Pierre.’
Sophia let the words sink in, the fact that someone as strong and committed as Pierre had been taken out.
