The Darkest Hour(75)

By the time we reach the dock we’re already two hours late, but we find the fishing boat still anchored. At the sight of us, the fisherman merely takes a puff of his pipe and sticks out a hand toward Emilio, ready for his payment. Emilio empties the rest of our money into the man’s tanned palm.

“Get on board, you two,” says Emilio, breathing hard.

“I don’t know how to thank you,” I say, but he waves me off and gives Tilly and me a gruff good-bye before motioning for us to get on the boat.

I climb aboard, and the scent of blood and fish almost knocks me over. The fisherman throws his head back and laughs at that, revealing a mouthful of brown teeth, and practically pushes us belowdecks. We settle onto a pile of old yet surprisingly clean blankets. Tilly falls asleep in minutes, but I can’t stop peeking above deck, waiting for the Spanish police to flag us down and escort us back over the border—this time in handcuffs. But no boats follow us. It isn’t long before dry land vanishes and we’re surrounded by endless water.

Finally I lay down beside Tilly to rest, but as soon as my head touches the blanket the tears come pouring out. I can’t help but think of everything we’ve lost along the way, from headquarters to my brother’s letters, blown into a thousand little pieces. In the last letter he wrote to me, he said it wasn’t fair that he was alive while so many of his friends were dead. Now, at last, I understand the burden of his words. I’ve never felt this alone.

Theo’s gone. So are Delphine and Harken and Sabine. Even my parents are an entire ocean away—not that I’m eager to return home to Papa’s drinking. I left Baltimore without looking back, and a part of me wouldn’t care if I ever set foot there again … except I’d like to hug Maman and I’d like to see Ruthie. Theo asked me to watch out for her. She’s my sister, he said.

That thought warms me for the rest of the night.



At daybreak the fisherman jolts me awake with a garbled shout, and I scramble up the ladder to see land ahead. A fishing village pops into our sights, surrounded by a stone retaining wall to protect the town from high tide—and maybe from intruders like us. While he smokes a pipe, the fisherman hoists a white flag onto the sail. A signal, perhaps?

I don’t give the flag much thought because I’m overcome. How long has it been since we escaped the laboratory? Or headquarters before that? I’m already thinking about sleeping in a soft bed and taking a bath, a long one with plenty of bubbles and soap.

The boat approaches a dock, and I leap onto it before we come to a full stop, more than ready to be back in Allied territory. Tears prick my eyes when I see that we aren’t alone. There are ten soldiers at the end of the pier, each of them wearing the brown uniform of the British army. I sure wasn’t expecting a reception like this, but the Resistance must have alerted the SOE that we’d be coming.

I wobble toward the Brits on my shaky sea legs, and one of them steps forward to meet me. He looks about Major Harken’s age, and his wheat-blond hair is brushed neatly under his brown cap. I assume he’s in charge by the way he tilts his chin upward like Sabine used to do.

“I wasn’t expecting a welcoming committee, but you sure are a sight for sore eyes, sir,” I say. I jut out a hand toward him, and he stares at it quizzically before giving it a tepid shake.

“My name is Colonel James,” he says in a proper English accent, just like out of the movies.

“Lucie Blaise.” It’s odd saying my real name, and even odder speaking in English. I haven’t used it in months, and it feels foreign on my tongue. “I’m not sure if you were told, but I’m with—”

“OSS, yes. We were informed by the French Resistance.” He says this matter-of-factly, almost coldly. Well, I guess I shouldn’t have thought that he’d clap me on the back and call me old chap, but it might’ve been nice after what we’ve been through. “We were told to expect two of you.”

“My colleague Matilda Fairbanks is right behind me.” I wave for Tilly to come forward, and she staggers off the boat with the fisherman’s help. “She needs medical attention straightaway.”

“Yes, we’ll see to that. If you’ll follow me, then—”

“Do you happen to know Alexander Dorner’s whereabouts?” I interject. It’s rude of me, but this can’t wait a second longer. “It’s urgent.”

His pale eyes meet mine at the mention of Dorner, but he says nothing of it. “It’s best if you come with me first. We shouldn’t discuss such matters out in the open.”

Fair enough, but that doesn’t stop me from wanting to hop in the nearest vehicle and go searching for Dorner on my own. “Very well. Where are we headed? To the American embassy?”

“To a facility where you’ll be debriefed and given time to recover.” He smiles politely, but there’s no warmth behind it. A chill shivers down my spine, and I wonder why he’s treating me so coolly. The Brits and Americans are allies, yet he’s acting like I’m an unwelcome houseguest.

“I don’t need time to recover. I need to find Dorner, sir.”

“Again, we shan’t discuss such matters here, Miss Blaise.” His smile has vanished, and he nods at the soldiers surrounding Tilly and me. “Now, if you will, my men and I will escort you to our facilities, where you’ll receive medical care and where we may talk more freely.”