“You okay?” Major Lucas touched her shoulder.
“Yes, still processing the information, but I’ll be fine. I have to be.” She straightened her spine. “When do we depart?”
“Ten days. If you want, Colonel Hellman will give you a seven-day pass so you can go home before we leave.”
“Spending a week with my family is the last thing I want to do, Major. Their negativity would undo most of our hard work.” She shook her head. “No trip home for me, but I wouldn’t mind heading back to Washington to sightsee.”
“I’ll make the arrangements.” He cleared his throat. “I’m not the perfect soldier you seem to think I am. This transfer is my last chance at not being demoted or drummed out of the army. I told off one too many superior officers. Fortunately, my last commanding officer wasn’t a career man and saw my behaviors as an asset to the OSS, so he managed to get me reassigned. I didn’t realize how much I disliked the armed forces until I got here.” He rubbed his forehead. “And now I can do serious damage to the Nazis, more than just shooting up a few of them. We can thwart their plans and disrupt whole campaigns. Perhaps shorten this blasted war by a few months. Then my brother’s death at the hands of the Germans might mean something.”
“I’m sorry about your brother. Losing him must have been difficult.” Tears rushed forward. Now she understood the constant pain that lurked in his eyes. Pain she wanted to help him erase.
j
Gerard shook his head. Why had he bared his soul like that? Now she had information she could hold against him or talk about in the event she was captured. Her face held compassion, but once they spent enough time together, she’d realize what a loser he was. That his brother’s death was his fault.
“Yeah, but lots of guys have lost loved ones.” He hardened his voice. “I’ve got to focus on the job and not let personal feelings get in the way.”
She squeezed his arm then tucked her hands into the pockets of her slacks. His skin tingled at the warmth of her fingers that permeated his cotton shirt. “And sometimes you’ve got to let your feelings drive you to the goal.”
“You’re right. I guess we both have motives for this assignment.” He gestured toward the coffee station at the end of the room. “Can I get you a cup? We should review our cover story before you leave for Washington.” He pulled a folded sheet of paper from his breast pocket. “They’ve given us the basics, but the more of our genuine background we incorporate, the better. We’ll have to remember fewer lies that way.”
“Coffee is great, but is the kitchen still open? I’m famished. We’ll be living on starvation rations in a couple of weeks. I’ve got to eat while I can.”
“I could use some food, too. After you.”
She sauntered across the room, oblivious to the stares from some of the male agents. Hard to believe she was unaware of her beauty. Would he be able to keep his emotional distance after they arrived in the field? Pretending to be in love with her might be the most dangerous part of the mission.
They grabbed sandwiches and soup and made their way to a secluded table in the corner.
Gerard picked up his spoon and sipped the flavorful vegetable beef soup. What would civilians think if they knew how well the agents were fed. He glanced at Miss Strealer, and his hand froze. Her head was bowed, and her lips moved silently. His face warmed. She’d think him an oaf for not asking a blessing.
She looked up with a smile then leaned over her food and took a deep breath. “I was only partially joking when I mentioned how we’d eat in France, but now I realize how true it is. I imagine we won’t have access to anything like this.” She gestured to his hand still midair between the bowl and his mouth. “Better get seconds if you can.”
He hadn’t prayed since Major Hellman notified him about his brother’s death. Anyone who believed God was on the Allies’ side wasn’t paying attention. He allowed decent men to perish every day. No, God definitely didn’t care. If the good guys were going to win, they’d have to count on clever strategy and tactics.
“Do you not like your food, Major?” Miss Strealer’s soft voice broke through his ruminations.
“Sorry. Just caught up in thought.” Gerard dipped the utensil back in the bowl and gave himself a mental slap. Focus Lucas. The mission is everything. He forced a smile. “So, tell me about yourself. I know you have three sisters, but how did you decide to become a French teacher? I daresay most little girls don’t grow up with a wish to teach a foreign language.”
She giggled then dabbed her mouth with the napkin before laying it on the table. “Our next door neighbors were from France. I’m not sure why they relocated to the United States, but they had lived there for years. We played with their kids, and the whole lot of them spoke French at home, so my sisters and I were exposed to it. We learned about their homeland and picked up the language.” She shrugged. “Fortunately, my parents believed in educating their daughters, so when they asked what I wanted to study at college, I chose French and decided to be a teacher so I could share what I’d learned. Who knew I would end up here? What about you? You must speak the language or they wouldn’t send you.”
“I do, but my reasoning is not as noble as yours. I needed an elective in high school, and I had a crush on a certain young lady. I managed to find out her schedule and registered for the same class. Turns out I have an ear for languages. I picked up French quickly and easily, but the girl never panned out.” He rolled his eyes. “And now here I am with another girl from high school French.”
“Touché.” She held up her cup in a mock toast and laughed, her face turning a lovely shade of pink.
Gerard clinked his coffee mug with hers. If he wasn’t careful, it might be high school all over again.
Chapter Seven
Emily tightened her grip on the handle of her satchel and grabbed the handrail of the metal staircase leading into the airplane. Her stomach clenched. Would turbulence rock this craft like it had during her first flight? How did air cause such a large steel craft to buck and bump like a slip of paper on a windy day? She took a deep breath and climbed the steps, a shiver slithering up her spine. The dawn’s murky sunlight did nothing to warm her.
She sat down and shoved her bag underneath her seat. A commercial airliner before the war, the plane had been converted for troop transport. Smoothing her skirt, she looked up as Gerard sat next to her. Over the four days of working on their cover story, he was no longer Major Lucas in her mind. His name finally rolled off her tongue with ease, and she liked how it felt.
He winked as he settled in beside her and crossed his legs.
Her breath caught, and she peeked out the window. Shadowy figures rushed across the tarmac toward the aircraft while others performed myriad tasks. Small trucks darted between airplanes and the terminal. The sun continued to rise, breaking through the morning fog. Trees materialized at the edge of the taxiway. Would she live to see her beloved country again? If so, how long before she returned home?