by Steve Korte
Suddenly, Steve became aware that the room had gone silent. He glanced up to see that every man in the room was staring at Diana. She was the only woman in the room. Steve had forgotten that women were not allowed in the War Office.
Angrily, Colonel Darnell turned to Steve.
“Trevor? What were you thinking bringing a woman into the council chamber?”
“I’m sorry, Colonel Darnell,” said Steve. “But the intel I’ve brought back is very time sensitive. We were attacked by men looking for it on the way here. I have one of Maru’s notebooks.”
Steve removed the notebook from his bag and continued, “We need to get this to Cryptography. And I need an immediate audience with the generals. . . .”
Colonel Darnell frowned and said, “You don’t just rush in here like this and demand an audience with the cabinet. Cryptography takes time and—”
“Captain Trevor,” interrupted Sir Patrick, as he joined the two men. “Welcome back. I’d heard you were lost on one of your missions, yet here you are. And you’ve brought a friend.”
Sir Patrick nodded toward Diana, who smiled back at him.
Colonel Darnell turned to Sir Patrick and said, “Our deepest apologies for this interruption, Sir—”
“Nonsense,” said Sir Patrick. “Thanks to this young woman, the room was finally quiet enough for me to get a few words in.”
Steve groaned inwardly as Diana crossed the room and joined the three men.
“Sir Patrick Morgan, at your service,” said the older man, as he bowed to Diana.
“Diana, princess of . . . ,” she began.
“Prince, Diana Prince,” Steve quickly interrupted. “We . . . she and I . . . we work together. She helped me get the notebook here. From Doctor Maru’s lab.”
Steve handed the notebook to Sir Patrick, who started leafing through it.
“Doctor Poison’s notebook? My God,” he said, as he turned to Colonel Darnell. “I suggest we assemble the members of the War Cabinet so they can tell us more.”
Darnell hesitated for a moment, and then he reluctantly nodded.
Later that day, Steve and Diana stood in front of a large group of men in another room in the War Office. Sir Patrick Morgan and Colonel Darnell were there, along with General Douglas Haig and members of the British War Cabinet. The walls of the room were covered with maps, along with photos of the German General Ludendorff and Doctor Maru.
Colonel Darnell handed the notebook back to Steve.
“Cryptographers had no luck,” said Darnell. “It seems like a mixture of two languages.”
Diana leaned forward to peer at the notebook and said, “Ottoman and Sumerian.”
Everyone in the room turned to look at Diana with astonished looks on their faces.
“What?” asked Diana. “Surely someone else in this room knew that.”
“Who is this woman?” asked General Haig.
“She’s my . . . secretary,” offered Steve.
At the sound of the word secretary, Diana turned to glare at Steve, but he gave her a look that said now was not the time to argue with him.
“And she speaks Ottoman and Sumerian?” asked Haig.
“She’s a very good secretary,” said Steve.
“See her out,” ordered Haig.
“If this woman can read it, sir, perhaps we should hear what she has to say,” said Darnell.
Diana nodded to Darnell and said, “Thank you. It’s a formula . . . for a new kind of mustard . . .”
Haig snorted and said sarcastically, “Mustard?!”
Diana, ignoring the rude interruption, calmly continued. “Mustard gas. Hydrogen-based, instead of sulfur.”
Darnell gasped and said, “Gas masks would be useless against hydrogen.”
Diana studied the book and said, “It says that they plan to release this gas at . . . the Front.”
She paused in confusion and looked over at Steve.
“The front of what?” she asked.
Steve turned to General Haig and said, “Sir, you have to find out where they are making this gas. Burn it to the ground. Destroy it!”
“Ludendorff was last seen in Belgium,” said Darnell.
“I can’t risk sending more troops into German-occupied Belgium with only this notebook as evidence,” said Haig.
“Sir, I saw this gas with my own eyes,” Steve said. “All the men on the front line could die on both sides unless you—”
“That’s what soldiers do, Captain,” barked Haig. “Would you have us abandon the Front altogether?”
“Pull the troops out,” said Steve. “Send me in. With some strategic support, I could take Ludendorff and his operation out myself.”
“Are you insane, Trevor?” said Haig. “I can’t introduce rogue elements this late into the game.”
“But, General—” began Steve.
“You will do nothing, Captain Trevor. That is an order!” Haig commanded.
As Diana watched in disbelief, Steve bowed his head and said quietly, “Yes, sir. I understand, sir.”
“I don’t!” declared Diana.
Steve turned to her and whispered, “Diana, I know it’s confusing.”
“It’s not confusing,” said Diana. “It’s unthinkable!”
Haig turned to stare at Diana and said, “I’m sorry, who did you say this woman was?”
“She’s with me. With us,” said Steve, as he reached forward to pull Diana back.
“I am not with you!” she said, as she angrily broke away from Steve and turned to glare at Haig. “You would knowingly sacrifice all those lives? Do they mean less than yours? Where I come from, generals don’t hide in their offices like cowards. They fight alongside their soldiers. They die with them on the battlefield.”
“Diana. Enough!” yelled Steve, as he turned to face Haig. “My apologies, sir.”
Diana spun around to face Steve.
“You should be ashamed,” she shouted, as she stormed out of the room. “All of you!”
Steve quickly exited the War Office. He found Diana in a rage, pacing back and forth in the hallway.
“That is your leader?” she shouted. “How could he say that? Believe that? And you! Was your duty to simply give them a book? You didn’t stand your ground! You didn’t fight!”
Steve stepped closer to her and said, “Because there was no chance of changing his mind. Listen to me. . . .”
“The millions of people you talked about?” Diana said. “They will die. My people? They’re next!”
“If you will just listen to me . . .”
“How can you call yourselves good men?” Diana asked.
Steve grabbed her shoulders and shouted, “We’re going anyway!”
Diana grew quiet. She studied Steve’s face.
“What? You mean you were lying?” she asked.
“Diana, I’m a spy,” Steve said. “That’s what we do. Now, are you coming or not?”
Diana frowned and asked, “How do I know you’re not lying to me right now?”
Steve reached forward and wrapped Diana’s golden lasso around his wrist. It started to glow.
“The truth is that I’m taking you to the Front. If we’re going to get to the Front on our own, we’re going to need reinforcements.”
ELEVEN
Later that night, Diana walked closely behind Steve as he led her down a dark and winding street at the edge of the city. They came to a dilapidated building that Steve described to her as a “pub.” When he opened the door, Diana peered inside the dimly lit room. She saw two dozen or so men, all wearing ill-fitting clothes and smelling of sweat. Several were engaged in heated arguments, and two men in the corner were throwing punches at each other.
“These are your reinforcements?” she asked. “Are these even good men?”
“Relatively good,” admitted Steve.
Diana raised an eyebrow and asked, “Relative to what?”
A well-dressed young man was sitting at a table near the door. He was talking no
nstop to two British officers. His bright eyes shone, and he occasionally raised his eyebrows or twitched his mustache to emphasize a point he was making.
“In Africa, gentlemen, we had no such luxuries,” the man said with a broad smile.
The two officers laughed and nodded their heads in agreement.
“But the luxuries we have now,” the man continued, as he leaned closer to speak to the two men. “It’s like we can’t stop making money. My uncle, the prince, and I would keep it all, but we want to extend the opportunity to a few good soldiers. . . .”
Steve reached over and placed his hand on the man’s shoulder.
“And which prince was that?” Steve said loudly, as he tightened his grip on the man’s shoulder. “I need to talk to you, Prince Madras Angora Cashmere. . . .”
The man grinned nervously and stood up, after excusing himself to the two surprised officers. He followed Steve and Diana to the other side of the pub.
“You jerk,” the man said to Steve. “I’ve been greasing those peacocks all night, and then you come along to spoil my . . .”
He stopped midsentence and glanced at Diana.
“My goodness gracious, that’s a work of art,” he said with admiration.
“Sameer, this is Diana,” said Steve.
Sameer smiled broadly and said, “Diana, call me Sammy. Please.”
“Sammy. Please,” replied Diana.
“Sammy is a top undercover man,” Steve explained. “He can talk the skin off a cat in as many languages as you.”
Diana eyed Sammy warily and said in Spanish, “He doesn’t look that impressive to me.”
Sammy instantly responded in Spanish, “You do to me. Your eyes, as soft as your smile . . .”
Diana switched to Chinese. “And your eyes look like they want something.”
“I know Chinese too, tricky girl,” Sammy replied in Chinese.
Diana next tried ancient Greek. “But can you recite Socrates in ancient Greek?”
Sammy opened his mouth and then quickly closed it. Diana had stumped him.
“Where’s Charlie?” asked Steve.
Sammy pointed to the corner of the pub where the two men were fighting. A large, angry-looking man was beating up a much smaller man. The smaller man cowered against the bar, shifting his arms over his body to avoid the blows. Diana nodded approvingly at the large man.
“At least this Charlie is good with his fists,” she said.
“That’s not Charlie,” said Steve.
BLAM!
The large man threw a punch that knocked his smaller opponent to the floor.
Steve walked over to help the little man get back on his feet.
“This is Charlie,” he said to Diana.
A few minutes later, Steve and Diana were sitting around a table with Sammy and Charlie. Diana looked apprehensive.
“Are you okay, Charlie?” asked Steve.
In a thick Scottish brogue, Charlie replied, “Ah, Steven! May God put a flower on your head.”
“What were you fighting about?” asked Diana.
“I mistook his drink for mine,” Charlie admitted cheerfully.
Diana turned to Steve and said, “This man is no fighter.”
“Charlie here is an expert marksman,” said Steve.
Diana looked puzzled, so Steve explained, “He shoots people.”
“From very far away,” added Sammy.
Charlie reached over to steal a drink from another table and raised it in Diana’s direction.
“They never know what hits ’em,” he boasted.
“How do you know who you kill if you can’t see their faces?” Diana asked.
“I don’t,” said Charlie. “It’s better that way.”
Diana frowned and said, “My aunt warned me about men like you.”
“Ain’t the first time I’ve heard that, lassie,” said Charlie.
Diana’s face grew stern, and she said, “You fight without honor.”
“Don’t get paid for honor,” replied Charlie.
Sammy leaned across the table and asked, “What’s the job, Trevor?”
“Two days tops,” said Steve. “We need supplies and passage to Belgium—”
“What’s the going rate?” interrupted Charlie.
“Better be good pay,” added Sammy.
He then turned to Diana and smiled, as he spoke in perfect French, “And perhaps a picture of your lovely face. Something to keep me alive.”
Diana tried to hide her disdain as she replied in French, “You won’t need a picture. I’m coming with you.”
Sammy’s smile faded instantly, and he turned to Steve. “What is this?” he asked.
“We’re dropping her off at the Front,” said Steve.
“Dropping her off?” Sammy repeated.
“No offense, darling,” Charlie said to Diana, “but I don’t wanna get killed helping a girl out of a ditch, if you know what I mean.”
Suddenly, a giant hand clamped down on Charlie’s shoulder. It was the large man who had fought with him earlier, and he held a gun in his other hand. Standing behind him were two equally large and angry men.
“You got your friends,” said the large man, as he pushed the gun against Charlie’s back. “These are my friends.”
Before Charlie could even open his mouth, Diana jumped up from the table, grabbed the man’s gun and reached over to grab the large man by the neck. She then easily picked him up and threw him across the room. The man crashed against the bar, causing glasses and bottles to come tumbling down on top of him. The man’s friends quickly ran from the pub.
Sammy watched the proceedings in astonishment.
“I am both frightened and impressed,” he said.
Just then, Etta Candy entered the pub.
“There you are,” she said to Steve and Diana. “Hello, all! Sorry I’m late. I got waylaid by—”
“Sir Patrick!” said Diana, as the British gentleman entered the room.
“That’s what I was going to mention,” said Etta.
Steve, Sammy, and Charlie immediately stood up out of respect.
“Sit, gentlemen. Please, sit,” said Sir Patrick. “I assume you’re here planning something that’s either going to get you court-martialed or killed.”
Steve sighed and said, “I assume you’re here to stop us.”
“No,” replied Sir Patrick. “Not that I like any of this. As one of your American authors, Thomas Paine, so eloquently put it, ‘I prefer peace. But if trouble must come, let it come in my time, so that my children can live in peace.’”
Sir Patrick lowered his voice to a whisper and said, “I’m here to help you. Unofficially, of course. What’s your plan?”
Steve spoke softly. “If there is another weapons facility, I plan to find it and destroy it. Along with Ludendorff and Maru.”
Sir Patrick nodded and said, “Etta will run the mission out of my office, to allay suspicion.”
Etta smiled and said happily, “Run the mission, sir?”
Sir Patrick removed an envelope from his pocket and discreetly handed it to Steve.
“It’s enough for a few days,” said Sir Patrick.
“Thank you, sir,” said Steve, as he clasped Sir Patrick’s hand. They were on their way to Belgium.
TWELVE
The next day, Diana and Steve made their way slowly through the crowds of people within London’s Paddington Station. Every new sight—whether it was the station’s arched metal roof or the arrival of a smoke-belching locomotive train—caused Diana to stop and stare. She turned to marvel at two men riding bicycles through the station. Her face saddened when she saw a little girl crying. She smiled when she saw a young couple embracing. Steve watched Diana’s reactions closely. He enjoyed seeing the world through Diana’s eyes.
“The train leaves in a few minutes,” he said.
Diana didn’t hear him. She was staring at a man and his daughter. They were happily eating two ice-cream cones.
Steve turn
ed to Diana and asked, “Hungry?”
Diana nodded, and watched carefully as Steve purchased two ice-cream cones from a vendor. He handed one to Diana, and she tentatively ran her tongue over the ice cream.
“It’s cold,” she said with delight.
“It’s ice cream,” explained Steve.
A broad smile filled Diana’s face, as she turned to the ice-cream vendor and said enthusiastically, “It’s wonderful. You should be very proud!”
Steve tugged on her arm to move her in the direction of their train. He leaned in closer to Diana.
“Forget the countries or the territory or the generals,” he said. “This is what we’re really fighting for.”
As they boarded the train, Diana paused to take one final look at the throngs of people in the station. She took comfort knowing that her sword was now safely tucked within the folds of her scratchy undergarments. After she ended the war, she wondered if she would return here and begin a new life in London. Would she eat ice cream every day? She smiled at the thought.
Hours later, the train rattled to a stop in Dover. Diana peered through the sooty windows and looked at the wooden docks that stood at the edge of the gray water. Hundreds of soldiers were disembarking from the train, and Diana jumped from her seat, eager to join them.
Diana, Steve, Sammy, and Charlie exited the train and walked quickly toward the boarding ramp for a steamship. A large group of young soldiers, newly recruited to fight in the war, marched alongside them. The soldiers were singing. Diana paused, trying to decipher the lyrics. Steve gently pulled her arm to keep her moving.
“We’ve got to get going,” he said. “Chief won’t wait.”
As they waited in line to board the ship, Diana turned to Steve and asked, “Chief?”
“Smuggler. Very reputable,” replied Steve.
Diana raised an eyebrow and said, “A liar, a murderer, and now a smuggler?”
“Careful. I might get offended,” replied Steve with a smile.
Diana frowned and said, “I wasn’t referring to you.”
“I went undercover and pretended to be someone else,” Steve said. “I shot people on your beach, and I smuggled a notebook. Liar, murderer, smuggler.”