“You must be there to meet me before Julian arrives,” he fretted, seeing now all the weaknesses in their hastily constructed plan. “As soon as the plane lands, we have to pull up the torches and run.”
“I know.” She put one hand on each shoulder, looking squarely into his eyes. “I’ll be there.”
“You’d better,” he grumbled. “My cousin would kill me if anything happened to you.”
“Will...” She felt as though she should apologize for, or at least acknowledge, what seemed to have developed between her and Julian. But how could she explain what she didn’t at all understand herself?
He waved his hand. “It doesn’t matter.” His voice sounded awkward. “Just get the job done.”
“I will. Trust me,” she said firmly. “Now go.”
After Will had disappeared into the darkness of the woods, Marie’s confidence faded. What on earth was she doing here? In the sky above she saw the faces of those who had doubted her all her life, first her father, then Richard. Those who made her believe she could never be enough. Pushing down her doubts, she instead imagined Julian boarding the Lysander, eager to return to his agents. She could not believe in just hours she would see him again.
The wait for darkness seemed an eternity, dusk lingering even longer than usual. When night fell at last, Marie crept from her hiding place and moved low and silent along the edge of the gently winding river. Its sleepy banks gave no indication of its significance for the war.
As she crept closer, Marie offered silent thanks that she did not have to carry the actual TNT again. Of course, laying the charge was no small thing. The joint where Will told her to place it was nearly twenty feet above. For Josie, who scaled the hills and climbed rocks so easily at Arisaig, this would have not been a problem, but to Marie it looked like a mountain. She crept along under the bridge to the spot Will had indicated, near one of the major joints. Cold water from the low-lying river seeped unpleasantly into her boots. She felt for the crude bolts, which jutted out from the steel, forming a haphazard climbing wall. She tucked the detonator into the top of her blouse and began to climb.
As she reached for a higher bolt, her foot slipped and the sharp metal cut into her ankle. She cried out from the pain in spite of herself, the sound cutting too loudly through the still air. Biting her lip, she struggled to reach for the bolt again and not fall.
At last she reached the spot under the railway bridge where the joints met. Clinging fiercely to the bridge with one hand, she managed to get the detonator from her blouse. She studied it, trying to recall everything she’d learned about detonators in training. With shaking hands, she connected the detonator wires. She said a quiet prayer that she had done it properly and it would all work.
She slid the charge in place. As she did, she felt a rumbling in the distance. An air raid, she thought, reminded of the years of terror in London. But as the sound grew louder and the bridge began to shake, she realized that a train was coming. There was no time to climb down. It was nearing now, shaking the entire bridge and threatening to knock the detonator from its place. Marie clung to the detonator with one hand and a bolt with the other, trying desperately not to let go. For once in her life, she would not run away or be afraid. The train roared overhead. She squeezed her eyes shut, praying she could hang on.
At last the train crossed the bridge and the shaking subsided. Marie rechecked that the detonator was secure, and climbed down from the bridge with shaking legs. At the base, she paused to catch her breath. She looked in both directions and started across the bridge. She should go slowly, she knew, staying in the shadow of the pylons to avoid being seen. There was no path for pedestrians, though, and a train might come at any time. She ran along the track, feeling naked and exposed, reaching for the other side.
* * *
She made it to the landing field on time.
When Marie reached the flat, barren strip of land, it appeared deserted and she wondered if she was too late and Will had retrieved Julian and gone on without her. But there were small stakes in the ground, ready to be lit as soon as the plane neared. She saw Will then by the cover of the trees.
“Any sign?” she asked as she neared. Will shook his head. She was flooded with disappointment. Julian might have been here by now. Marie pushed down the feeling of uneasiness that formed in her throat. A few hours did not mean anything. There was a window of time when a plane might be able to land. The pilot might have been delayed, or circled around due to fog or fear of detection.
“We should wait out of sight.” He led her from the open field of trees. One had fallen and behind it the ground was hollowed out to form a small ravine. He sunk to the ground and gestured for her to do the same.
A chill came into the air, and she shivered, feeling the wetness from the river that lingered in her boots. She wished for a fire, though, of course, that was impossible. She moved closer to Will, not caring if he minded. She stared out across the darkened field, wishing for a sign of Julian. He wasn’t there. She could almost see his silhouette stepping from the shadows, smile cocked even as his eyes were terse and alert. But it was a mirage, a figment of her mind. Ten minutes passed, then fifteen, and hope turned to disappointment, then to worry.
She leaned against a tree and closed her eyes, too nervous to sleep. Then she sat up with a start as there came a noise from above, something filmy seeming to fall from the night sky.
A parachute!
She leaped to her feet and ran heedlessly into the field. They must have dropped him because it wasn’t safe to land. As the parachute lowered, she sidestepped to avoid being crushed. “I told you I would come back,” Julian said.
A buzzing sound overhead awoke her suddenly. Her eyes snapped open. She was still sleeping in the darkness of the woods. The reunion had been a dream. Still no Julian. She had shifted slightly from the tree trunk to leaning on Will’s shoulder. He had put his arm around her for warmth. Hurriedly they straightened, separating. “Anything?” He shook his head.
The night sky remained dark but it was beginning to pinken at the horizon. It was too late now. Julian’s plane wasn’t going to show.
She looked into the blankness above, searching for answers about what happened. “Could the landing information have been mistaken?” she pressed.
“I’ve never known it to be. It was quite certain.” Though he didn’t say more, the fear in his eyes was unmistakable. Julian was supposed to be here. Something had gone horribly wrong.
Marie stared into the sky, which was turning to gray as dawn neared, willing the whole thing to be a bad dream. “Perhaps the plane will still come,” she said, feigning hope.
But knowing the protocol and unwilling to pretend, Will shook his head. “Not enough fuel. Too close to dawn.” He rattled off rapid-fire the reasons it was impossible.
“You said that the delivery was confirmed. What could have happened?”