Page 19 of Shadows In Paris
‘What can I do for you?’ Jack had inquired politely, smoothing his shirt sleeves to his wrists.
Val turned to check the door was closed. ‘Take a seat, Jack. I have something important to talk to you about.’
They only talked for about fifteen minutes. She told him that his country needed him. His bilingual skills were anasset that Military Intelligence desperately needed in these times.
Jack sighed at the memory. He had been so naive in those days—a boy of just nineteen. The year was 1927, and Europe was still recovering from the Great War. Val didn’t divulge more than he needed to know, but gradually, over time and during their regular meetings, she trained him in the art of tradecraft and the secrets of espionage. He was fascinated and found he had a knack for keeping secrets and getting people to divulge information that they would not ordinarily divulge.
When he graduated from Oxford with first class honours, Val was in the audience. It meant a lot to him she had come because they had grown close, and he respected her. She was like a second very stern mother, which, considering he was fatherless, was a welcome support through his time at university.
After the graduation ceremony, his mother and Henry took him for a celebratory dinner in town and Val disappeared into the crowd, but not before arranging to meet him the following day for lunch.
After they’d both ordered fish and she surprised him by drinking beer like him, she got right down to business.
‘We’ve had fun, and you’ve helped us considerably over the past few years. The agency is grateful for all you have done. I am grateful,’ she said. ‘You’ve made my job easier, and it’s been seamless working with you. Thank you, Jack.’
She raised her glass and congratulated him on his graduation.
Jack nodded solemnly, drinking his beer and wondering if this was where his days of playing espionage games were at an end. His role had largely been watching and listening to key people of influence both at the university and at various clubs and organisations in town. Academics of all nationalitiesadored Oxford, and the town buzzed with new and returning visitors. Guided by Val, he had gathered a lot of intelligence, and she always had another job for him.
In truth, it had been fun. He had learned how to read people, and his people skills would see him in good stead for whatever career he pursued. He had chosen a new degree in Philosophy, Politics and Economics, which, on reflection, may have been the reason Val approached him in the first place. He’d never asked whether she had other spies at Oxford, but he presumed she might.
From the beginning, she had warned him of the dangers of loose lips, and he had never divulged any secret information to anyone other than Val when he reported back to her.
Jack King had a strict code of honour and had impressed Val simply by being himself. She had recruited the right man for the job, and she mentored him carefully.
‘I won’t beat around the bush any longer,’ Val said, fixing her stare on Jack.
He almost laughed because no one would accuse Val of beating around the bush. She meant business—anyone could see that.
He cleared his throat and looked at her expectantly.
‘The service wants you full-time. You excel at this work, and we need you on board permanently. I’m here today to officially invite you to become an employee of Military Intelligence.’
And that was how his dabbling in secrets at Oxford had developed into a full-time career in espionage. His mother still didn’t know exactly what he did, but of course, she had her suspicions.
Recently, he had been promoted and now wore a captain’s uniform. In wartime, it was too obvious he was in the Secret Service if he didn’t have a military rank to blur the edges of what he did.
His mother knew not to ask many questions about his work.
It was almost dawn, and he calculated Lizzie should have landed by now and with any luck, she’d be at the farmhouse. His heart missed a beat at the thought of where she might be if things hadn’t gone smoothly.
He reminded himself, there was no place for sinister thoughts, or he’d drive himself insane. This was probably going to be a long mission, and he must steel himself to not see or hear from her every day.
Jack took a deep breath to calm himself and turned into his street. The car slid to a stop outside the entrance to his flat. He would try to grab a few hours’ sleep before going into Baker Street.
His body was weary, but his mind ran wild with images of Lizzie, the Resistance, and what might happen in the coming days. He could feel the fear in his stomach at the genuine possibility he may lose her. They might never see each other again if things went wrong. Today she would travel to Paris to find Hannah, and the danger had never felt more vivid. He preferred to put himself in danger than be left behind.
Jack would trade places with Lizzie in a second. He wished it was him who had just landed in Reims and who would join the Liberty Network to support Hannah in her new operation.
But it was a job for a woman. The SOE had made that clear, and he knew it was the right decision, even though he hated it. There were times his going back into occupied France might be fitting, but this wasn’t one of them. He could be there only for brief trips, and this was an undercover operation where Lizzie would need to blend in with the locals and learn from Hannah so she could replace her in some of her network activities.
Jack lay his head on his pillow and turned to one side totry to fall asleep. His face touched the cotton and Lizzie’s scent was all around him, wafting up his nose and making him almost sick with longing.
Usually, he always expected the best, but this scenario plagued him with doubt. He couldn’t help thinking how ironic it would be if after all these years when he refused to fall in love, and only dated casually, he had lost his heart to the most amazing woman, and now she might be lost to him forever because of this war.
The worst of it was he blamed himself. He had recruited her.
If anything went wrong, it would be all his fault.
