Page 4

His fingers curled in the sheets, pulling me toward him, and for a little while, the world could wait.
A knock at the door shattered the stillness.
Neither of us moved.
The sound came again—sharp, insistent, pulling us back into the inevitable.
Will exhaled, already mourning the morning we weren’t meant to keep.
He slid from the bed, the silk sheets pooling at his waist before he stood, bare feet soundless against the wooden floor. I followed, wrapping a robe around my shoulders, my fingers already reaching for the gun hidden beneath the stack of books on the nightstand.
Just in case.
Will cracked the door, keeping the chain in place. I saw his posture shift—sharp, alert, the same way a wolf tenses before the kill. Then he relaxed.
He unlatched the chain and opened the door, revealing Lieutenant-Commander Drake Raines. The former-master-of-HMS-Tuna-turned-spy-handler’s face was carved from the same cold steel as ever. He stepped inside without an invitation, the air shifting with him, bringing the scent of damp wool and cigarette smoke.
Will closed the door. “No dead drop?”
“No time.” Raines shook his head.
That sounded ominous. Our peace was officially over.
I leaned against the writing desk and crossed my arms. “What’s the job?”
Raines pulled a folder from beneath his coat and tossed it onto the desk between us. A photograph slid free—black and white, grainy, a man’s face caught mid-turn. He was middle-aged, bespectacled, with the worn look of someone who had spent too many years chasing ghosts.
The tab of the folder bore the name, “Shadowfox.” There would be no refusing this mission. It already had a code name.
“Dr. László Farkas” was scrawled in neat block letters at the top. Beneath were paragraphs that read more like a biography than a mission brief. I skimmed quickly.
Hungarian. Mathematician. Cryptographer.
Father of a thirteen-year-old girl?
And, apparently, our next mission.
“Farkas may be the smartest man on the planet. He’s supposed to be close to inventing a machine to make the Enigma look like a child’s toy. Command is scared shitless. Soviets seem to think they’ve got a real prize.” Raines exhaled, lighting a cigarette as he spoke. “Apparently, the good doctor is willing to defect.”
Will picked up the photograph, studying it. “Over?”
Raines took a slow drag, then exhaled. “With his machine, Stalin’s boys could intercept and decipher every Allied message before it even reaches its intended recipient. No war plans, no troop movements, no diplomatic cables would be secure.”
I felt the weight of it settle in my chest.
“Where is he now?” I asked.
“Theyare in Budapest.” Raines flicked ash onto the floor. “The daughter goes with him. That’s the deal.”
Well, shit. That complicated things. Prying a scientist the Soviets found valuable from their grip would be challenging enough. Dragging a young girl across enemy lines was a different matter altogether.
“A young girl? Seriously?”
Raines nodded.
Will set the photo down and looked at me, something unreadable in his gaze. I already knew what he was going to say before he said it.
“When do we leave?”