Page 29 of The Shadow Code (Heroes of War #3)

E llie headed upstairs to the fourth floor, heels clicking along the corridor, clutching the manila envelope too tightly. Talbot’s door was half-open. She knocked twice.

‘Enter.’ He sat behind his desk, shirt sleeves rolled up, a half-drunk cup of tea on the desk next to him. When he glanced up, he leaned back with a sigh. ‘Miss Harcourt. Back for round two?’

Ellie pushed the door to behind her. ‘No. I came to apologise.’

He raised an eyebrow.

She crossed the room and set the envelope on his desk. ‘The surveillance photographs. You can destroy them if you like. Probably best.’

Instead of reaching for them, he sat there watching her with that infuriating air of calm.

‘Thank you for not making a fuss,’ she added awkwardly.

Talbot gave a dry chuckle. ‘Lockwood asked and I answered. You made it hard not to.’

‘Still, you were generous, considering.’

He shrugged. ‘MI5 have dragged me over the coals before. No need to inflict it on others where it’s unnecessary.’

Ellie’s mouth tugged into a faint, rueful smile. ‘It won’t happen again.’

‘See that it doesn’t.’

She nodded once and turned to leave, cheeks burning.

By the time she reached her desk the sting still hadn’t faded.

The corridors felt colder now, the clipped voices sharper, as if the whole building had observed her mistake and passed quiet judgement.

She sank into her chair, opened the first file and tried to pretend none of it mattered.

***

The rest of the day passed in a blur of paperwork and pointed silences.

Ellie spent hours reviewing old reports, cross-checking coded telegrams and filing Stratton’s correspondence like a glorified secretary.

No one said it aloud, but she could feel it – a subtle shift.

The too-quick glances. The careful tone in conversations.

Someone was keeping an eye on her. She was in the doghouse, and everyone knew it.

By the time she left the building at the end of that day, her shoulders ached and her head was pounding. She had learned nothing new. Still, she told herself, it was better than being locked out completely. She couldn’t wait to return home, lock the door and curl up in a ball.

***

The rain had stopped by the time Ellie reached the corner of Tavistock Place, but the air was heavy with coal smoke and the sharp tang of scorched brick from the nightly air raids.

She pulled her coat tighter, heels clicking faintly against the wet stones.

The car was there again. Same spot. Same angle.

A dark, silent shape tucked beneath the plane trees that lined the street.

Her heart thudded painfully. She hesitated.

This time, she didn’t run – not even as the driver’s door swung open and a figure stepped out.

The way he moved made her breath catch. The familiar slope of his shoulders, the way he held his head.

It couldn’t be. Not after all this time …

The moon slipped out from behind a mass of cloud and illuminated his face, the breeze ruffling his blond hair.

‘Ellie,’ he said softly.

The voice confirmed what she’d already known, what she’d been afraid to believe. She recognised it, lighter than Jack’s, smoother. ‘Sinclair,’ she whispered.

He stood a few paces away, hands raised, palms out. As if she might bolt or scream and alert the entire neighbourhood.

‘I’m not here to hurt you,’ he said. ‘Please. We need to talk.’

She glanced up and down the street. Empty. Silent. The windows above them shuttered tight. Still she didn’t move. Her heart raced as her thoughts filled with memories of them together, of being in love, his touch, his lips on hers … And then how it all ended so abruptly. Why was he here now?

‘I don’t understand,’ she whispered. ‘You left without a word.’

He nodded gravely. ‘You gave me little choice.’

‘You could have explained.’ She took a step forward, her eyes never once leaving his.

‘I couldn’t put you in danger.’ He moved forward to meet her.

‘They said you were a criminal, that you were …’ The words froze in her throat.

That he was a threat to national security, that he was on a list. But as she thought she realised that none of it made sense now.

At the time she had been distraught, grieving for the loss of all they’d had.

Grieving for a lost love. Her world had been ripped apart in an instant, and she’d regretted snooping in his briefcase ever since.

‘If I hadn’t found the weapon, or the file, would you have told me what was going on?’

‘No.’

His reply came swift and clear, hitting her like a sharp slap. Again she stepped forward, now a mere three feet away from him, and she noted the lines around his eyes. His lips parted, revealing straight, clean teeth and she caught a flash of memory, intimate moments she’d tried to forget.

Ellie raised her chin in defiance.

‘I had to come. I think you might be in danger,’ he said urgently. ‘You and your father.’

‘What?’ Her voice sharpened. ‘How could you possibly know that?’

He shook his head. ‘I can’t tell you. I’m under orders.’

‘Rubbish,’ she snapped, stepping even closer as a spark of anger raced through her veins.

She wasn’t afraid of him. And how dare he vanish and show up like this, just when she was finally finding her way again in a sea of false starts and dead ends?

‘You expect me to trust you? After everything?’ She was close enough to reach out and touch him, and by God she longed to.

Longed to take his hand in hers, kiss him, rest her head upon his chest …

Then, as she looked into his eyes, she saw a flicker of hurt, raw and real.

‘I never wanted to betray you,’ he said. ‘You have to believe that.’

‘Then tell me the truth.’

He hesitated, visibly torn. ‘There’s a mole in British Security Services. Your father’s work has made him a target, and these people won’t stop until they have him.’

Ellie swallowed hard.

‘We shouldn’t even be standing here,’ he added, glancing around nervously. ‘If they see us together …’

‘I don’t care,’ she said fiercely.

Sinclair closed the distance between them in two strides. He reached for her, stopped short, then brushed her cheek, soft as snow, as if she might break. The familiar touch sent a shock coursing through her. How many times had she dreamt of being back in his arms?

‘You’re braver than anyone I’ve ever known,’ he murmured.

Tears stung her eyes, sudden and hot. Then, in a decision that felt reckless, she said, ‘Come inside.’ What was she doing?

This was madness. But the thought of letting him disappear again into the night was unbearable.

His jaw tightened, and for a moment, she thought he might refuse.

But then he nodded. She led him up the steps to the front door, her key trembling slightly in the lock.

The flat was cold and dark, the blackout curtains drawn tight. Ellie switched on the small lamp by the armchair, casting a dim golden pool of light across the room. ‘Tea?’ she asked, already moving towards the kitchen.

Sinclair huffed a soft, humourless laugh. ‘Some things never change.’

She busied herself boiling water, hands trembling slightly.

She needed to do something normal while her world tilted off its axis.

It was all rather surreal, and she couldn’t quite believe he was really here.

Part of her wondered if she’d wake up and find this had all been a dream, another one of those cruel nights where she’d imagined he’d come back to explain everything.

Pausing by the serving hatch, she watched him as he stood by the window, peering briefly through the curtains like a hunted man before closing them tight.

When she returned with two mugs, he took his gratefully, wrapping both hands around as if to warm them. For a long moment, they simply sat there together on the sofa. Then Ellie said quietly, ‘I’ve been seconded to MI5. Temporarily. Working with someone I know.’

Sinclair nodded, unsurprised. ‘I know.’

Her breath caught. ‘How?’

He didn’t answer immediately. Just sipped his tea, eyes distant. ‘I hear things,’ he said eventually. ‘And I still have a few friends in low places.’

‘If you know that much, then tell me. What’s really happening? Why are they watching my father?’

He hesitated, the internal war heavy on his face. ‘There’s a leak,’ he said finally, voice low. ‘High up. Someone moving pieces none of us can see clearly. Your father’s work is the target. And you—’ He swallowed hard. ‘You’re their way in.’

Ellie’s heart thudded against her ribs. Of course they’d use me to get to Pa. ‘Kingfisher,’ she whispered, sensing Sinclair stiffen beside her.

‘Don’t say the name,’ he said sharply. ‘Not even here.’

Ellie set down her tea with a soft clink. ‘Then help me. Tell me who.’

‘I can’t,’ he said, his voice edged with frustration. ‘It would put you in more danger.’

She shook her head. ‘I’m in the thick of it already.’

He stared at her, eyes hollow. ‘Please, Ellie. Just be careful. Trust no one you wouldn’t bet your life on.’

She wanted to scream, to demand more. But she knew she wouldn’t get it.

He leaned closer, reaching out as if to touch her, then pulled back. ‘I should go.’

Her heart dipped. He was a ghost, not truly here, and pain gripped her throat. She no longer cared why he’d left, she simply wanted him to stay. ‘Please don’t go.’ The words slipped out with barely a thought.

He huffed out a sigh, took her hand in his. ‘I must.’

She remembered his grip, the warmth of his skin on hers, and he was so close now. Familiar notes of cedarwood drifted over her and she drank them in greedily. ‘Will I see you again?’

He paused, then he leaned in and pressed his lips to hers; a brief, aching kiss that tasted of salt and tea and things left unsaid.

‘Soon,’ he whispered against her mouth. ‘Once this is finished. I promise.’

Then he pulled away, lingering a beat longer than he should have, before turning and letting himself out.

Ellie flicked off the lamp and parted the curtains to a needle’s-eye gap, watching as he slid into the driver’s seat and the engine roared to life.

Sinclair sat perfectly still for a full minute.

Through the windscreen, she could almost see the war playing out behind his eyes before he finally put the car in gear.

And as the engine faded into the distance, she sank onto the sofa, the mantel clock beating ticks into the hushed darkness as she wiped her cheeks, but the tears kept coming.

Her heart had broken all over again, and she told herself it didn’t mean anything, like she had done the first time. But it did. It always had.