Page 19 of Tides of Resistance
Val sighed. ‘You always say that where Seagrove is concerned. You handle her with kid gloves. I knew you’d object.’
‘That’s not true,’ Jack said, knowing every word was true and wondering whether Val suspected how deeply he cared for Lizzie.
‘Now you understand why I didn’t tell you. It all happened so quickly as emergencies do. There was nothing you could say to stop it, Jack. Orders came from the boss, and the mission was approved from up high.’
Jack raised one dark eyebrow. ‘How high?’
‘Prime minister, high,’ Val said, her tone brooking no argument, as if she’d thrown down her trump card.
Violent feelings of despair washed over Jack, and, unusually for him, he felt helpless. He should never have agreed to the damned assignment in the Highlands. He’d had a bad feeling about it when they first broached the idea, but he had rebuked himself and put it down to his not wanting to leave Lizzie. He couldn’t afford to get soft in this war, so he had overridden his gut and made himself go without a word of objection.
Stella tapped on the door and entered with her rickety trolley. Jack made small talk with the chatty tea lady, but it was like time stood still while he waited for her to pour the mugs of tea and arrange biscuits on a plate as if the world wasn’t crumbling around him.
Finally, the trolley jangled out of Val’s office, and he tackled the subject once more. He needed to know everything, though every word Val spoke was like a stab in the chest. This was Lizzie’s office too when she assisted Val. His eyes swept aroundthe room with files and papers on the surfaces, and the view of St. Paul’s Cathedral in the distance.
He had counted on Lizzie being here, waiting for him after all this time apart, and now he felt wretched. After he left for Scotland, he’d been concerned they might send her on a mission, but as the weeks turned into months, he stopped worrying. It hadn’t even crossed his mind that she wouldn’t be here when he got home.
Val surrendered to his interrogation, knowing him well enough to know she may as well get it over with now because he wouldn’t leave her in peace until he was satisfied. It was part of what made Jack a formidable agent in Military Intelligence before the war. He didn’t give up, and he was a stickler for detail.
Val took a sip of her tea and held the steaming mug as she spoke. ‘Plan A is she stays with her family. From there, she’ll look for the wireless operator. The contact hasn’t radioed in for a while, and we’re worried he may have been arrested.’
Jack swallowed hard, his thoughts racing. This was turning out to be as horrible as he had feared. ‘But who knows if the family is still there? Lizzie doesn’t. It’s been years since she visited St. Malo—since well before the war.’
Val stared at him with compassion in her eyes, but the set of her jaw told him she was unrepentant. He knew that look from years of verbal fencing with his superior. They often disagreed on operational strategy, and whoever had the best argument wore the other down. Occasionally, when Val was in a magnanimous mood, she observed it was the reason they were so effective together. They had different perspectives, which was invaluable in the espionage game. But at other times, she had been known to say he was pigheaded, stubborn and bloody-minded.
Jack stubbed out his cigarette, running the scenario through his mind.
‘There are a lot of potential potholes in the foundation of this mission.’
‘Nothing’s perfect, Jack. You should know that by now,’ Val said, sipping her tea and biting into a hard biscuit.
‘Perfect, no, but there should be a chance of her getting out alive, wouldn’t you agree?’
Val didn’t respond but continued chewing the biscuit.
Jack continued. ‘How did she go in? You said she arrived this morning.’ He couldn’t bear to contemplate that she hadn’t arrived.
‘HMNB Portsmouth,’ was all she said.
Jack’s mouth fell open. If he were in a lighter mood, he might have whistled. ‘Churchill approved Lizzie going in by sub?’
Val nodded and remained silent.
‘I see.’ This changed everything. He saw now that even if he’d been here, it would have been unlikely he could have stopped the chain of events.
Jack chewed his lip.
‘Now, you see why she has no radio set,’ Val murmured.
‘St. Malo is known for its dramatic tidal range. If I’m not mistaken, it has some of the highest tides in Europe. How the hell was she to get to shore?’
It was a rhetorical question. He knew she would have to swim, but his imagination rendered bleak images of the submarine slipping away, leaving his future wife fighting for her life in the dark, choppy Channel in the dead of night on an enemy coastline.
‘I must say, you’re taking this better than I expected,’ Val said with a twinkle of irony. ‘The good news is we heard from the sub. They dropped her without incident according to the agreed schedule.’
‘That’s the good news?’ Jack grimaced, the taste of smoke and fear filling his throat.
Val laughed.
