Page 43 of The Shadow Code (Heroes of War #3)

E llie couldn’t move. Around her, agents shouted instructions and gathered evidence, but she remained frozen beside Sinclair’s body. His eyes were closed now; Jack had done that but she couldn’t look away from his face. There was no triumph in death, no absolution. Just blood and silence.

He had lied and vanished from her life for some covert operation. Duty . And yet, in the end, he had returned to warn her. To take the bullet. Her breath shook. For all the hurt, all the betrayal, he had died trying to make it right.

Behind her, Jack hovered just out of reach. For once, his sharp edges had softened. No clipped remarks. No cool detachment. Just gentle kindness.

He crouched beside her now, his voice low. ‘We have to go, Ellie.’

She didn’t move.

‘The local constable’s on his way.’ One of the men telephoned from the farmhouse. They’ve called an ambulance.’

She remained frozen, her fingers tangled in Sinclair’s coat. She didn’t want them to take him away, to place him in the mortuary, where everything was ice cold and clinical. Pain creased her chest. ‘I could’ve stopped it.’

Jack didn’t push, just rested a hand lightly on her arm.

‘This wasn’t on you.’ He knelt beside her, silent for a moment.

Then, with care, he reached into Sinclair’s coat.

From the inside pocket, he drew out a rain-smeared scrap of paper and a silver lighter, its casing nicked and worn, initials just visible in the dim light.

He held it for a second, thumb brushing the engraved letters, then slipped both items into his pocket.

Footsteps approached. Collins appeared, raindrops running down his face. ‘We’ve got two in custody,’ he said. ‘Caught them trying to slip out the back with forged ration books and technical equipment. Could be radio parts.’ He shrugged.

Jack straightened. ‘Anyone else?’

Collins shook his head.

Jack exhaled hard, then nodded towards the car. ‘We’ll take the prisoners with us. No time to hand them over.’

Collins blinked. ‘You’re not heading back to HQ?’

‘No. We’re going east. Shoeburyness.’ Jack glanced at Ellie, then back at Collins. ‘Sinclair gave us a location. A U-boat rendezvous. If we move now, we might catch them.’

Collins looked grim, but nodded. Jack helped Ellie to her feet. Her legs were unsteady, but she didn’t resist.

‘We’ll get your father back.’

She didn’t speak. Just nodded once.

Outside, the agents bundled the two arrested men into the back of the second car, their wrists tied. Collins returned a moment later, wiping his hands on his coat. ‘Ambulance is on the way. The constable will wait for them.’

The air was sharp and cold, salt tang on her lips as they walked back to the Rover.

Somewhere in the distance, a gull cried out, its call thin and ragged.

Then a low, distant wail rose on the air; the warning note of an air raid siren, mournful and growing.

Moments later, the unmistakable groan of bombers carried on the wind, a slow, thrumming beat over the estuary.

Jack opened the passenger door for Ellie. She paused, casting one last glance at Sinclair’s body, then swiped at her face, the chill catching on the dampness beneath her lashes. She didn’t know whether it was rain or tears as she slid onto the seat.

The cars pulled away from Wickhurst Point with tyres spitting gravel into the mist. Behind them, the sea whispered and the wind tugged at the farmhouse shutters.

‘ Tangmere ,’ she said, her voice low and cracked at the edges. ‘ Next full moon .’

Jack nodded, jaw tight. ‘Then that’s where he’ll be. Sinclair wouldn’t have used his last breath on a lie.’

Ellie glanced back. ‘He led us in circles. Every lead was false. Granville kept us moving, but always away from him.’

‘We fell for it. Wasted the night chasing shadows.’

She didn’t speak, her chest aching. At the end of the lane, stars pulsed faintly. Flashes glowed across the Thames to the west, a bloom of fire lighting the clouds. Then came the crump of bombs, rolling low and distant.

Ellie wiped a strand of hair from her cheek. Sinclair deserved better than the mortuary. Tears filled her eyes as she turned to Jack. ‘They can’t take him. Don’t let them take him away.’

He sucked in a deep breath, then reached for her hand, squeezing it gently. ‘It’s all right,’ he said softly. ‘I promise he’ll be taken care of, and I’ll take you to see him when we finish tonight.’ Then, he pulled the note from his coat. ‘This was in Sinclair’s pocket.’

Ellie unfolded the paper. Shoeburyness. 01:30. ‘ Half ,’ Ellie whispered. ‘That’s what he meant.’

Jack exhaled. ‘They’re moving your father tonight.’

Ellie closed her eyes. ‘We have two hours.’ She held Sinclair’s lighter, turning it in her palm, reading the engraved initials, S.M.

‘His real name was Sebastian Mackay,’ Jack said quietly. ‘Military intelligence. Undercover for more than a year. We thought he was gone.’

Ellie looked at the lighter. ‘He wasn’t supposed to find me, was he?’

Jack shook his head. ‘He broke protocol. Risked everything to warn you.’

‘He wasn’t who I thought he was.’

‘No,’ Jack said quietly. ‘He was better.’

Sebastian Mackay . A name that belonged to a stranger, yet somehow didn’t. ‘I thought he was stringing me along.’

‘He wasn’t supposed to get close.’ Jack’s voice was careful, measured. ‘Then he went off the grid. No orders or back-up. Just … you.’

The words hung between them like smoke. Outside, the countryside blurred by in shades of grey and black.

He’d promised to find her if there was more intelligence.

And he had kept that promise, hadn’t he?

Long enough to pass the message. Long enough to die for her.

She curled her fingers around the lighter, feeling its weight, its warmth.

Everything about Sinclair had been a lie.

But lying there in the mist, blood seeping through his fingers, he’d looked at her with raw emotion, unguarded and real.

His sacrifice was truth and that would have to be enough.