Page 53 of Tides of Resistance
Not for the first time, he warned himself to get a grip. Whilst he was in London and Lizzie in enemy territory, he must stay alert, ready for whatever action might be required.
If he had a say, the minute they suspected something had gone wrong with the reconnaissance mission, he would be on the first plane into occupied France.
Later that morning, still weary and irritable, he made his way to a meeting with Val in her office. Lizzie’s desk was laden with papers, her chair empty, and his heart lurched with the stark reminder of her absence.
‘Have you heard any more from Seagrove?’ Val asked after they’d discussed other operations.
‘Not a peep,’ he said.
‘I imagine she’s trying to find a safer location to transmit from. It can’t be easy, but if anyone can do it, Lizzie can.’
Jack sprung to his feet and strode across the room in a few steps to gaze out at St. Paul’s Cathedral on the horizon, a trail of hazy smoke following him.
The cathedral stood proud and strong, like a beacon of hope against the pale blue sky. It had been hit in the Blitz, but the dome had miraculously escaped serious damage. St. Paul’s was one of his favourite London landmarks and reminded him of when he and Lizzie returned from a mission. England had never looked more beautiful as the little plane buffeted through the sky at dawn, and she pointed St. Paul’s out to him.
He stubbed out the cigarette and returned to sit opposite Val.
‘This is a two-agent job,’ he said, his deep voice gravelly from exhaustion.
Val studied him through her large glasses and tutted. ‘I wondered when you’d be singing that tune again. There’s no cover for you. We sent Lizzie in because she has the perfect cover story with her family. And you see from her message our plan worked.’ Her tone brooked no argument, but that didn’t stop him.
‘Yes, but how the hell is she going to get out alone? She’s at the epicentre of their FAK 613 communications.’
Val fired back, ‘That’s why we gave her the crystals. She’ll get out the same way she got out in the past.’ Val stared at Jack; concern etched in the grooves around her mouth. ‘Are you going soft on me, Jack King? Perhaps we should have extended your stay in Scotland.’
Jack grunted and rolled his eyes. ‘Of course I’m not going soft. But one would have to have no beating heart not to care about our agents who risk their lives to send us morsels of intelligence that may or may not help us win the war but willvery likely get them killed, especially if we don’t have their backs.’
Val sighed. ‘We do have their backs. This conversation is an example of just how much we have their backs. Let’s be honest, patience has never been your strong point, but for the sake of our sanity, you need to develop the fine art of having a tad more.’
Val’s words did nothing to soothe Jack’s dark mood.
‘I would be so much more useful in France than stuck behind my desk here. You know it as well as I do.’
‘No one denies you are effective in the field, but we need you here running operations. You’re our top agent, who understands our work inside and out. Besides, it’s too dangerous for you in St. Malo.’
‘Too dangerous for me but not for Lizzie?’ he said, arching one black eyebrow.
‘You know it’s much safer for women to move around. Men of fighting age stand out like sore thumbs. Besides, you have far too many secrets in that hard head of yours. If they capture you, all our networks will be compromised.’
Val opened a file and spread some papers on her desk. ‘You’re not going into France unless there’s a valid reason for it. Next topic.’
CHAPTER 31
An idea struck Lizzie in the night, and she rose at daybreak eager to see if she could pull it off. Immediately after breakfast, when the others left the house, she pulled a bicycle out of the shed and prepared to ride to St. Lunaire along the coastal route, like she had with Sophie.
This time she had the illegal radio set concealed in her bicycle basket, and as the wheels bumped closer to the gate, her heart thudded so hard she felt sick. If there had been another way to get the radio out of the walled city, she would have happily taken it. She’d considered smuggling it through the gap in the wall, but the risk of being stopped with something that would immediately incriminate her was too high, and even if she got through on foot, she didn’t have a safe place to store it.
The radio was her most important possession, so she had made an alternate plan. Lizzie told Aunt Giselle she wished to surprise Fabian with a visit and asked if she had anything she would like her to take to him.
As Lizzie had guessed, her aunt was keen to make sure her son received any supplies she could gather for him at short notice.
A guard stepped forward as Lizzie dismounted the battered-looking bicycle. ‘Papers,’ he said gruffly, looking her up and down.
She handed him her documents and tried to breathe naturally as she stood in front of him. The bicycle was propped against her side, and she held onto the bars, praying he wouldn’t search the basket.
If he did, it would all be over.
Briefly, she thought of Jack. Knowing he was waiting for her at home bolstered her courage.
