by Geneva Lee
Either my sister had been incredibly stupid or incredibly scared—the two states were often interchangeable in my experience. I wanted to dissect all of this. Someday. Right now I was interested in the bare facts.
“Where did they keep you?” I asked.
“I don’t know,” she said wearily. “There were no windows. No phones. Sometimes I was taken to a hospital wing.”
“And there were no windows there either?” Smith asked.
“No,” she said firmly. He was testing her. He asked this question every other time she recounted the story. “Then things got weird.”
“How?” Georgia hung off every word despite having listened to Sarah’s story every time. She was as eager to find clues as I was. This was the first real lead we’d had.
“Describe the room you were kept in,” I said.
Sarah sighed heavily and began the description again. “There was a bed, walls, a few books, a dresser with clothes—the same clothes.”
“Was there anyone else there?” I asked.
“I never saw anyone. One time I thought I saw a girl but I think I was just going crazy,” she admitted in a low voice.
“And you were awake the whole time?” Brex said. This seemed to be the point he was hung up on. I could understand being frustrated by the revelation, but I didn’t know why he kept bringing it up.
“Yes. Mostly. I think,” she added. “It was years.”
Years. She’d been awake for years and none of us had known. It didn’t add up. I knew the others were doing the same calculations.
“Can you remember anything at all? Something you saw? Something someone said?” Georgia asked.
Sarah shook her head, her lower lip beginning to tremble. “I keep trying. I should have told you. I was so scared. They said they would take me back there if I told you.”
I couldn’t look at her. Part of me bore this responsibility. Would they have been able to pull this off if I’d visited her regularly? I might have noticed her bed at Windsmoor was empty. But I couldn’t forgive her for walking back into my home and not telling me the truth. No matter what her reasons were.
Georgia was more sympathetic. “No one will take you back. You should have told us. We can protect you.”
“Like you protected her?” It was an innocent question but it hit its mark.
“Our guard was down,” I said tersely. “That won’t happen again.”
Once Clara was back behind these walls, I was never letting her out of my sight. I suspected she wouldn’t argue this time.
“If there’s nothing else, you should get some rest,” Georgia said doing a shocking imitation of someone with a beating heart. Even Brex stared at her.
“If you need me,” Sarah said. I could feel her eyes searching me, but I couldn’t bear to acknowledge her. She’d told us more than we’d known for days but it wasn’t enough. “I’m sorry, Alex. I didn’t know they were going to take her.”
I nodded. It was the most I could afford without losing my cool. She’d been stupid and selfish and scared. Traits she shared with me. So how could I blame her any more than I blamed myself?
“If you think of anything,” Brex said, sounding tired.
“I’ll keep trying,” she promised. “But it’s not going to be useful.”
“I’ll take you back to your room,” Georgia said. She moved to place an arm round her and Sarah stiffened.
“Sorry,” she murmured. “They used to say that after the tests.”
“Tests?” She’s failed to mention that. Then again, we’d been grilling her for location details.
“They took my blood sometimes. They told me they were checking my vitamin levels. Then they’d give me more pills or less pills.” She smiled apologetically at Georgia and began to follow her out.
As soon as they were gone, we turned to stare at one another.
“I doubt those were simply blood tests,” Smith said. “So what were they looking for?”
I couldn’t begin to guess. It was an interesting twist but not very useful.
“Maybe we’re thinking about this the wrong way,” Brex said thoughtfully.
“What do you mean?” I glanced at the clock aware that I promised Belle to check on Elizabeth within the hour.
“They might have been doing something more or they might have been doing just that. Why would you check someone’s blood serum levels?”
“Malnutrition,” Smith mused. “Isolation therapy. Overexposure. Lack of exposure.”
As soon as he said it, Brex nodded. “Exactly. What would happen to a person who didn’t go outside? Who had no windows?”
“Vitamin D depletion,” Smith said. “That can cause all sorts of problems.”
“But Sarah came home healthy…”
“Someone kept her that way,” Brex said grimly. “Someone who would know the effects of along-term lack of sunlight.”
“What are you getting at?” My brief nap hadn’t done much for keeping my head on straight. Neither had the last few hours questioning my sister.
Brex walked over to the bulletin board he’d covered with photos and leads, but instead of pointing to a suspect he opened the panel I’d shown them. “These were built during the wars. Where do they lead?”
“Fall-out shelters. Other major government buildings.”
“They’re not just about movement. They were about protection.”
“Are you saying?” I trailed away as it all began to make sense.
“They kept her underground,” he said. “Now what organization would know all about fall-out shelters that were no longer used? What organization could cover that up?”
We weren’t looking for MI-18 for help. We were looking for MI-18 to find my wife.
There was one other place that connected Sarah and the war: Windsmoor. Although the house sat on the outskirts of Windsor far from the nearby castle, I believed the two might be connected. It was the kind of information I should know. But finding out for certain meant digging into files.
“Don’t we have secretaries who could do this?” Georgia asked as she scrolled down a computer screen.
I glanced over at her, surprised she even had to ask. “We can’t trust them.”
“We don’t know who has contact with MI-18.” Smith nodded. “We need to be extra cautious.”
But if waiting around for intel was frustrating, being on the verge of the information we needed was driving me crazy. “Why don’t we just go out there?”
I couldn’t stand it any longer. Maybe I was too hopeful, but this was the first solid lead we’d had. If Clara was there, why were we waiting here?
“If we move on Windsmoor without proof—without knowing what we’re doing—we could give them time to react,” Smith reminded me.
He was right. It didn’t make it any easier to wait though.
“I think I’ve got something.” Brex strode into the room and dropped a number of blue prints on the table. The papers were yellowing with age, but they were clearly marked Windsmoor.
Brex spread them over the table and pointed. “This is a planned bomb shelter.”
“Planned?” Georgia repeated.
“The papers are dated a few weeks before the war ended.” Brex sighed, stepping back, and pausing for a moment. He seemed to know that he was either delivering good news or bad news. “If they began construction…”
They probably wouldn’t have continued it after the war ended. “Why wait this long?”
England had been at war for years. It was strange to think they hadn’t bothered with adding the extra protection until 1945.
“Why would they do that?” My hope flickered, the news like a dash of water to the small flame. I’d let myself believe we’d found her. “I should have known.”
“Known what?” Georgia demanded, still pouring over the plans. “It could still be there. They could have finished it.”
“Who?”
“MI-18,” she said. “They would need a base of operations.”
Their henpecking wasn’t making me feel any better.
“It’s the only lead we have” I said softly.
The argument died down and the room fell silent. We all knew that the longer Clara was out there, the less likely… I couldn’t even bring myself to admit what might happen.
She couldn’t be gone.
“I promised her that I would protect her,” I murmured. And here I was impotent and useless. I had resources at my disposal. I had a team of people willing to do whatever it would take to get here back. And still, I had nothing.
Anger ripped through me and without thinking, my hand slid over the table knocking the useless documents to the floor. A second later and the table itself flipped over. To their credit, the others didn’t step in. They didn’t even flinch. They let me continue wrecking the room until there was nothing left to destroy. When the last paper had been ripped off the bulletin board, I slid down into a heap as broken and ravaged as everything else here.
“So we should check it out.” Brex straightened, instantly resolute.
“What’s the point?” My words sounded hollow even to me, echoing from the deep emptiness inside me.
“The point is that we’re not giving up.” Georgia crouched down beside me, placing a hand on my shoulder. “We’re going to find her, and we might as well start at Windsmoor.”
I glanced up, surveying each of them as I tried to decipher if I’d pushed them to this point. “You said it yourself. If we’re wrong…”
“If we’re wrong, so what?” Smith said. “We need to find her and we can’t wait around until we have all the information. If Norris was here, what would he tell you to do?”
I’d tried not to think too much about Norris, but I felt the same stab of pain at the mention of him. But by ignoring his absence, had I failed to consider everything he’d taught me? What would Norris do? He would know how to handle this. He would have found her already.
“He wouldn’t let anything get in his way,” I said. “He’d go.”
Brex leaned down and scooped the blue print remnants from the ground. “Then we go.”
We had no idea what we would find. Maybe we were all tired of sitting still. Maybe we all sensed the clock was winding down. Maybe we’d finally crossed the line separating rational action from bald-faced hope.
The consequences were obvious. If we were wrong, it could give MI-18 time to mobilise. But they’d plenty of time to do so already. If we were truly wrong, they were probably watching us and laughing. And if we were right, we might be walking into a trap. We might be walking in blind. I didn’t care, because some love was worth dying for.
Chapter 19
CLARA
The door cracked open and I strained to see David peeking inside. “Clara?”
“I asked to see you,” I said.
He stepped into the room, shifting uncomfortably on his heels. He didn’t want to be here. That made two of us. But unlike me, he had a choice in the matter. I just needed him to see that.
“I need you to promise to look after the baby,” I said.
“Clara, I…” He shook his head. “I’ll do the best I can.”
“You owe me,” I said softly. Fiercely. “What’s happening now. You did this.”
“If I could change—”
“You can.” I wasn’t going to play into his lying game. He wasn’t going to walk out of this room without facing the truth. “Let me go.”
He stared at me like I’d sprung a second head. “You won’t make it out of here. There’s guards and security measures and…”
“Please.” My voice broke on the word, desperation pouring out of me. “Please. Don’t make me die like this.”
“You’ll die if you try to escape,” he whispered, moving closer to me.
“I would rather die fighting than be gutted on some table and left as scrap.” Tears rolled down my face as I considered what awaited me. When I’d taken a bite of the apple I’d known I might never wake up. There wasn’t going to be a second miracle. Once they rolled me into surgery, that was when my life ended.
“The baby,” David said.
“They’ll save the baby.” I knew that. No matter what they did to me. He would be saved. He was what they were after. He was the prize.
“You can’t take that chance.” But his eyes lingered over the cuffs.
“I can’t lie here and wait to die,” I sobbed. “Give me a chance. Help me.”
“Clara.” He shook his head. “I can’t—”
“If you ever loved Edward—if you loved any of us—undo these restraints. You’re my family. Not theirs. You promised him for better and for worse. Be better.” We both knew that this wasn’t going to end well. We also knew that if I walked out of here, everything would change. David wouldn’t be able to hide the truth and I wouldn’t lie for him. I just had to help him see that living with what he’d done would be a worse fate. “You’re better than this. If you do this, it will tear him apart. You won’t be able to live with yourself. Your marriage doesn’t survive my death.”
“And it survives your rescue?” He bit his lip, turning away from me. “You’ll tell him. You’ll tell all of them.”
“It’s never too late for redemption,” I said softly.
“Do you think Alexander will believe that, too?” he said darkly. “Or even Edward? I know how he feels about lies. He thinks we don’t keep them from each other.”
He was spinning out of control. I was losing him, but I still needed him.
“Someone will find out and when they do, there will be no second chance for you,” I said. “If you save me now…”
My final argument hung in the air between us. It was the best I had. We both knew there was no magical happily ever after waiting for all of us on the other side of this. I just had to show him that every path led to the same devastating ending—only he could contain how many hearts were broken.
“You’ll never make it,” he said. But he moved closer, his fingers dancing over the cuff.
“Tell me,” I begged. “Anything that might be useful. I won’t ask any more of you.”
A muscle twitched in his jaw, but finally he spoke. “They’ve reduced staff for the birth. Most of the organization knows the plan, but not the details. The less people who know the details…”
The less people there were to spill them. I nodded, my breath hitching as he began to unfasten the cuff.
“If you follow the northern corridor, there’s an exit to the surface.” He stopped on the buckle. “Even if you get there, there’s nowhere for you to go for miles.”
“I’ll hide,” I said. It wasn’t much of a plan, but I had to take small steps. Getting out was the first bit. Once I did that I’d be able to think—once we were safe. “Which is the northern corridor?”
“Out and to the left.” He exhaled sharply and then finished unfastening the cuff. I didn’t wait for him to start on the second. Instead I fumbled for it. David pushed my hand away and did it himself.
Sitting up, tight pain seized my midsection and I doubled over, gasping.
“Clara,” David said in alarm.
“Contraction,” I panted. Why? This couldn’t be happening. It was probably stress.
“They’re inducing you,” David confessed, moving to remove the IV from my arm.
“Inducing?” I stared at him. “Why?”
David ripped it free and shook his head. “You don’t want to know.”
“Why, David?” I repeated. I’d had a c-section with Elizabeth. We were waiting for the doctor now. It didn’t make sense to induce me when they could easily…
“Part of the cover story,” he said softly. “They planned to take you to a hospital a few hours from here, make it look like you left Alexander, and then died in childbirth.”
I clapped a hand over my mouth as another contraction hit, this one stronger than the first. I wouldn’t allow
this to happen.
“Help me,” I commanded, ignoring the tightness as I got to unsteady feet.
“Clara, you aren’t going to make it,” he said.
I looked him in the eyes as pain burst to fury. “I won’t die like that. You don’t have to help me.”
Shaking off his hands, I made my way to the door. I put my hand on it as another contraction hit. My knees buckled as my mind instinctively did the math. They were coming close together—too close. Holding the door for support, I searched for some untapped strength.
But all I found was fear. I was in labor. How was I supposed to sneak out of here? My breath came quickly now, responding to the waves of contractions as well as the panic.
I wasn’t going to go to sleep and never wake up. I was going to help them. I was going to bring this child into the world and see him taken from me.
David came up beside me, an oxygen mask in hand. “You should lie back down,” he said soothingly, like a parent who’d just let their child fail as a lesson. “Come on.”
I tried to fight him as he slipped the mask over my head and forced me back toward the bed. But the fast-coming contractions had sapped my strength. Still, I wouldn’t allow it to end like this. Gathering every ounce of courage I had left, I shoved him away and stumbled one step toward the door.
As it opened, I sank to my knees only to look up and see two familiar blue eyes watching me over the barrel of a gun. Before I could process it—process him—a shot rang out.
Chapter 20
ALEXANDER
Brex insisted on piloting, citing my lack of sleep and general distraction as reasons why he was more qualified. I didn’t bother to argue that we’d been tired and distracted on the war front, too, and that had never gotten me out of duty. It gave me time to think, even with the others talking over headsets.
“When we land, we’ll head to the southwest quadrant of the estate. That’s where the shelter was being built, according to the plans,” Smith said. “No deviations. We need to minimise the risk of anyone spotting us.”