Page 12 of Sands of Sirocco
Ginger tried to tell herself—as Noah had—that the government would have executed Henry for treason.Henry would have died even if she hadn’t shot him.Unlike her father, who had shown some remorse for his actions and made a deal with Lord Helton, Henry had reneged on the deal when he’d tried to kill Noah.But a part of her wondered if allowing Henry to escape wounded would have been enough to save her family.
And shemissedhim.Her throat was instantly thick, her eyes misting with tears at the thought of her brother.They’d been close most of their lives.His teasing smiles and ability to understand her were unmatched.
She swallowed tearfully.Damn it, Henry.She was still angry at him too.He’d been so sure he was doing right by the family.Doing what he could to protect them.He’d lost sight of everything, including basic morality.She blinked her tears away.No matter how much she tried, she couldn’t forgive him for what he’d done.No more than she could forgive herself.
Turning, she continued her trek.Up ahead, a figure disappeared into the shadows around a nearby alley.Her heartbeat fluttered.She could have sworn the figure looked like the man she’d seen on the tram.
Matron’s warning about being out late rang in her head.
She quickened her steps.She’d almost reached the tram stop when she heard a voice call her name.“Lady Virginia Whitman.”
Ginger’s breath caught.A few feet from the stop, a motorcar idled at the curb.Leaning against the motorcar’s door stood the man from the tram.
She swallowed, then looked around.A few people lingered in the streets.But her experience with Stephen had made her more cautious.She gripped her handbag.“Who’s asking?”
He gave her a congenial smile.“Peter Osborne.At your service.”He tipped his hat.“Sir Reginald Wingate has sent me to speak to you.Can I trouble you for a conversation?”
The commissioner of Egypt?What on earth would he want with her?Ginger blinked at him.Could this have to do with the deserter from the train?
His words made her step back from him.“Perhaps another time?I’m expected at the hospital.”To her relief, the trolley bell rung, and she spotted it approaching down the street.
Mr.Osborne’s dark eyebrows furrowed.“I mean you no harm, Lady Virginia.”
She offered him a polite smile.“Then you’re welcome to come to the hospital to which I’m assigned tomorrow.The 15thGeneral.Perhaps at three?”
He hesitated.“At three then.”
Ginger boarded the tram as soon as it stopped, eager to get away.When she looked back, Osborne had gone.She shivered and sat, the unease she’d carried since she left the train only increasing.If she’d attracted the commissioner’s attention, she might have crossed too far a line this time.
ChapterFour
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.
