Unintended Consequences (Jack Turner Suspense Series Book 3)

by Dan Walsh

  “You’re saying one slip,” Joe said, “but we don’t know it was Ozzie’s fault.”

  “I’m not blaming him. But the planes seemed fine just before that. Jack, you were watching. Did you see anything that looked wrong? Did the plane seem to be messing up at all? Cause they seemed just fine to me.”

  “No, nothing obvious. But I was a little distracted. The Lieutenant was talking to me about those two squadrons of Hurricanes coming this afternoon. He stopped talking, and we both looked up. Ozzie’s plane was already spinning by then. You could tell something was wrong, but I didn’t see it when it first went into the spin. What makes you so sure it wasn’t Ozzie’s plane, but something he did?”

  “I’m not sure,” Seth said. “I guess I’m just hoping it was.”

  “Why?”

  “Cause if it was the plane, then I gotta be worrying about something being wrong with my plane. Something I got no control over. Then I gotta start worrying about these Brit mechanics, whether they’re any good. If it was Ozzie’s fault, then I don’t gotta worry so much.”

  “I don’t think any of us will ever know what went wrong on this,” Jack said. “But let me ask you something, Seth. You didn’t come out of your spin when Joe did. You gave us all a little scare watching you. A few seconds more, and it would’ve been too late for you. Then you got hold of it and pulled up okay. What was going on there?”

  Seth didn’t answer right off the bat. Like he was remembering. “That’s why I’m wondering, hoping nothing went wrong with the plane. Because I did feel something going on there at the top of my stall, right as the plane came over and started heading down. Like my head started spinning before the plane did. Maybe it was just all the extra speed and power, and we’re not used to it. I got disoriented for a few seconds, but I came out of it. Maybe that’s what happened to Ozzie, and he could never get it together.”

  “Any of you guys feel anything like that?” Jack asked. He didn’t.

  No one else had, either.

  “I’m not saying it was any big deal,” Seth said.

  “You don’t have to apologize,” Jack said. “The point is, you got it together and pulled out of it. Something happened with Ozzie, and he didn’t. None of us have ever flown with each other before. Except Joe and I. All I can say is, before he lost control, Ozzie was doing everything solid. You were too, Seth. There’s nothing we can do about it. It’s not going to make any sense. My plane felt completely fine.”

  “More than fine,” Joe said. “For a minute, I forgot we weren’t flying a Spitfire. I was having the time of my life. I don’t think I could ever go back to flying a Jenny.”

  No one said anything for a few minutes. Jack wasn’t sure how he felt. It wasn’t like the death itself was so shocking. They had all been confronted with it. Everyone has who flies planes. It was part of the package. If you were close to the guy, you felt the pain of that, losing a friend. If you didn’t know him, you were mostly just glad that whatever happened didn’t happen to you.

  Ozzie dying this way was kind of a mixed bag. Jack didn’t really know him that well, and they weren’t close. But he still felt bad. The poor guy had come all this way, had all these hopes and dreams, and then smacks the ground his first time out. “Anyone know if he had any family back home? Anyone we need to contact?”

  “He and I talked a good bit,” Seth said. “He had a brother back in Iowa he wrote to a few times. Probably got a letter from him in his things. I’ll check and let his brother know what happened.” He sighed. “Poor Ozzie.”

  The Group Captain had given the Americans leave for the rest of the day. But before he dismissed them, he confirmed that the rest had satisfactorily passed the exams. This made them eligible to fly the Hurricanes and later, the Spitfires. But then he’d added with some emphasis, that just because they had been cleared to fly these planes didn’t mean they could start flying them right away. Especially after what happened with Ozzie. He wanted to be absolutely sure the remaining Americans could fly the Miles Masters as well as they could walk.

  So for at least a week, that’s what they’d be flying, over and over again.

  As they talked about it over lunch at The Black Swan, the guys had all agreed this was no punishment. They were still going to be allowed to fly every day and, even though they had been restricted to fly trainers, these planes were five times better than anything any of them had ever flown back in the US.

  At the moment, Jack and Joe were sitting in those wooden deck chairs awaiting the arrival of the first squadron of Hurricanes. They were due to show up any minute. They did their best not to look too far to the right. About two hundred yards in that direction, a handful of workers were cleaning up the debris from Ozzie’s crash. Instead, they kept straining their eyes all over the skies, searching for any sign of the Hurricanes.

  “Know which direction they’re coming from?” Joe asked.

  “Think they’re coming in from the north,” Jack said. “That’s where the base is located. Doesn’t mean the pilots will fly in from that direction.”

  “Will be something to actually see them up close, won’t it? After only seeing them in pictures.”

  Jack nodded. Although right now, his mind wasn’t totally focused on the arrival of these planes. He was wrestling with whether he should be sitting there with Joe at all. If he had any hopes of ever finding his brother, it would be in London, not here. The captain had only given them leave for the rest of the day. Even if he could get a staff car, he’d have to be back tonight. That meant he’d spend most of his remaining time off driving back and forth. He’d only have two or three hours of search time at best.

  Then it dawned on him, it wouldn’t work anyway. He’d already concluded his best bet, oddly enough, had come from Joe’s hoity-toity idea (that Jack’s British side of the family was likely part of the aristocracy). During lunch, he’d worked up the nerve to ask the Flight Lieutenant for some advice. Jack mentioned that he might have some distant relatives living in England but wasn’t sure of their last name. He was pretty sure they were part of the British nobility, but he had no idea whether they were dukes or earls, or barons, or whatever. Was there some place that had a list of all these people and what part of England they lived in? He thought maybe if he could see a list of their names, something might ring a bell.

  The lieutenant had looked at him as if Jack had to be joking. When he could tell he wasn’t, he’d said he might start off in one of the bigger libraries in London. They had all sorts of directories there that Jack could look through, and he was quite sure they had one especially for all members of the aristocracy. Jack thanked him and headed back to his table, hoping the lieutenant would forget that he’d ever asked.

  Jack decided a large London library would be where he’d begin his search. But any library would undoubtedly be closed by the time Jack made the trip. That is, if he could even get a car.

  “Jack?”

  Jack looked over at Joe. “What?”

  “Where’d you go? That’s the third time I called your name.”

  “I’m sorry. What is it?”

  “What is it? Look.” Joe pointed toward the south end of the runway. “The Hurricanes. I think they’re here.”

  20

  The next morning, Renée awoke fully rested. The first time that had happened in weeks. When he’d left last night, Elliot said he could tell she was exhausted. He was too. He insisted they both sleep in that morning and let their bodies decide when they were done. It was 9:15. Apparently, her body had decided she needed eleven hours to get caught up.

  She remembered the plan for that morning. Elliot wanted to take her shopping for some new clothes. None of the stores were open until ten anyway, so she decided to take a hot bath before getting dressed. They did have a nice bathroom back home. Several, in fact. But none of them had running hot water since she was a little girl. How could she pass up an opportunity like this?

  She sat up in the bed and stretched. This must be what it fee
ls like to be a princess, she thought. She’d never been in a finer room. They must have hotel rooms this nice in Paris, but she had never been in one. She glided across the plush carpeting into the bathroom and turned the hot water knob. Not only did the water get hot, but it got hot almost right away.

  After adjusting the level of heat with the cold water knob, she closed the drain so it could fill. She stood back a moment to watch. It was like a wonder. She got her underclothes and the outfit that she would wear that day and set them out. The hotel had provided some wonderful smelling soap and shampoo. After setting them on the corner of the tub and tossing a small oval throw rug in front of it, she sat on the edge of the tub waiting for it to fill the rest of the way.

  In those quiet moments, her joyful outlook on the day quickly began to erode as she thought about her mother. Here she was, about to enjoy this luxurious bath followed by a pleasant day of shopping for a new wardrobe with a very nice man in total peace and safety, and what would her mother face? Was she even safe? Had the British soldiers all fled the area? Had the Nazis taken over her town? Would Philippe be able to resist all the excitement and danger and remember his promise to take care of their mother? Was he even safe?

  Why had she agreed to come here, to leave France? It was her responsibility to take care of their mother. Philippe could not be trusted with such a task, not at his age. Mother was completely dependent on the daily help Renée provided and had been for the last several years. Philippe might remember his duty for a day, maybe two. But what about a week from now? Two weeks? If he forgot, Mother would have no one.

  It was a mistake to come here. She was only thinking of herself. Then she remembered. That wasn’t true. She didn’t even want to come. Her mother had insisted. Renée knew what Mother was afraid of, what the German soldiers would do to her. The thought of that frightened Renée as well.

  She looked down at the tub and sighed. Really, there was nothing to be done. Carefully leaning over, she turned the water off. She stood, put her nightgown on a hook and slipped into the soothing hot water. At the very least, she made up her mind to not enjoy this hot bath. She would not soak, would not relax, would not close her eyes and imagine calm, peaceful things.

  She would just clean herself up as quickly as possible—the way she bathed at home—and try not to think of the potentially terrible things her mother and brother would face today.

  After her bath, Renée got dressed and fixed her hair and realized something awful—she had no makeup. She didn’t own very much to begin with, but what she had was all in her top vanity drawer back in France. What could she do?

  Elliot had just called from the lobby; he would be knocking on her door any moment. It was bad enough that he was going to have to pay for all these new clothes, how could she ask him to pay for new makeup? But how could she walk around every day without makeup? She didn’t even have any lipstick. She couldn’t even buy that for herself. She hated feeling so helpless.

  A knock on the door.

  She looked at her face once more in the mirror. She smiled, made a few different expressions. This was silly. He probably wouldn’t even care.

  A second knock on the door.

  She hurried across the carpet, stood straight, fluffed her hair and opened the door. “Good morning, Elliot.” He instantly smiled.

  “Good morning. I’d ask how you slept, but it seems obvious. You look great.”

  “Thank you.” She stepped aside, and he walked in. “I actually did sleep very well. How about you?”

  He gently put his hands on her shoulder and kissed her forehead. “The hours I did sleep were restful. But I wasn’t able to sleep in after all. Got a call from my CO, had to go in early this morning for a brief meeting.”

  “Oh? What about?”

  He walked in to the middle of the room, set his hat on the coffee table. “That’s just the thing, isn’t it?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Well, I guess it’s one of the things we have to talk about now that you’re here in London. My work.”

  She closed the door and came closer. “I know, you can’t talk freely about your work. It was like that back in France.”

  “Well, it’s even more like that now that we’re back in England. I can’t really discuss my work at all.”

  “Elliot, you know you can trust me. I would never share anything you tell me with anyone.”

  “I do trust you, Renée. It’s not a question of trust but of law. It’s actually against the law for someone who works in a top-secret military position to discuss any aspect of their work with anyone who doesn’t hold the same security clearance. I could be arrested and thrown in prison.”

  “My gosh. I had no idea. You can’t even discuss non-secret things? Mundane things?”

  He hesitated to respond. “About all I can say is…you know all these young boys and old men you see all over town, the ones dressed as soldiers?”

  “Yes. They are volunteers, no? Not real soldiers?”

  “Yes, they’re volunteers. The government put out a call on the radio for every able bodied man between the age of seventeen and sixty-five to rally to the cause, to help defend the country should the Nazi’s invade. It happened before we got here from France. Well, a lot more men responded to the call than we expected.”

  “You see them everywhere,” she said. “Always marching.”

  “Right, well…I’ll be working with some of them. But that’s all I can say. Day to day, I can’t discuss anything about what I’m doing. I’m very sorry. It has nothing to do with you. I’m only bringing it up now, so we don’t have a number of awkward moments over the next few days every time we see each other. It would probably be better for you to just not ask me any questions that have anything to do with what I’m doing when we’re apart.”

  “Okay, I guess I will just have to get used to it.”

  “It’s only until this war is over, Renée. I promise…after, I will get a job that allows me to tell you everything I do at every moment of the day.”

  She smiled. She could tell he was trying.

  “Besides,” he continued, “there’s nothing that says I can’t ask you questions about how your day went.” He reached for her hand. “Well, are we ready to go shopping? Is there anything else you need to do?”

  “Nothing I need to do, but there is something else I want to say. It’s kind of like what you just did, sharing about your work. I need to share something with you up front also. Something I think you need to understand.”

  “Then maybe we should both sit down for a few moments.” He sat on the edge of an upholstered chair.

  Renée sat on the side of the couch nearest to him.

  “Have I done anything wrong? Anything to upset you?”

  “No, it’s nothing like that. I’ve just been doing a little thinking and, now that you’re here, I realize these are things I need to be sharing with you. Things that can’t wait for a few days or a few weeks.”

  “Like what?”

  “Well for one, me being here in this hotel. It’s lovely, the nicest hotel I’ve ever stayed in. I know you said you picked it because it’s close to where you work. But it’s just too fancy for me. I don’t feel comfortable here. I don’t want to have to dress up every time I leave my room just to fit in. When we go shopping, I don’t mind buying one nice dress or two, but I don’t want all my clothes to be the kind of outfits one must wear in a place like this. I want to dress…more like the way I did in France. Are you okay with that? Will that bother you?”

  “No Renée, not at all. I liked the way you looked in France. I was just being dull. I never thought once about you having to dress one way or another because of this hotel.”

  “Do you understand that means I want to live somewhere else? Like an apartment somewhere nearby. If they’re too expensive, I’d be happy to share an apartment with someone.”

  “We’ll start looking for a new place right away. What else did you want to talk about?”

&nbs
p; “How I’m going to spend my days. You have your work. I’m sure you’re spending extra time with me now because I just arrived. But you’ll have to get back to a regular schedule very soon, am I right?”

  “You are.”

  “Which means I’ll be stuck here, or in my apartment while you’re gone every day with nothing to do. That will drive me crazy. So, I want to get a job. I don’t know what I could do just yet, but I would like to start looking. Maybe even today, after we go shopping.”

  “I have no problem with that, either. In fact, I may even have a few good ideas. And a few good connections.”

  She liked the sound of that. This was going very well.

  “Is there anything else?” he asked.

  “No, those were the main things.”

  He stood, took her by the hand and led her to the front door. Then he paused. “But that reminds me. There’s something else I need to say about my work. Something I learned just this morning in my meeting. Over the next several months, I may need to leave London for a day or two at a time. I won’t be going very far, mostly in southern England. But the thing is, it will probably be better for you not to ask where I’m going. I’m not allowed to tell you.”

  21

  June 13th, 1940

  The Skies Over the English Channel

  Flying at altitude, high above the clouds, you would think it was a beautiful sunny day. That’s one of the things Jack loved about flying: how beautiful the sky looked when you soared above the clouds. The higher, the better. Right now, they had just cleared ten thousand feet, or Angels 10 as the Brits called it.

  “Jack, can you still see the bombers?” It was Joe, flying the Hurricane on Jack’s right. “Cause I’ve lost them.”

  “I still see them, but they’re flying in and out of a cloud bank.”

  “You Yanks cut out the chatter.” It was their squadron leader flying in the lead plane up ahead. “I just radioed the lead bomber. They’re going to climb to Angels 15. Follow me up to Angels 17.”