Page 44 of The Shadow Code (Heroes of War #3)

T he coastline east of Southend unfurled beneath a pewter sky, the sea devouring what little starlight remained.

Rain drizzled as they moved into position.

Ellie crouched behind a windswept dune, her coat sodden, breath ghosting white in the bitter air.

She was glad of the herringbone trousers she wore, their high-waisted cut allowing her to move freely.

Salt tang filled her nose, and her fingers ached from the damp.

Behind them, their vehicles waited in the shadows of a gorse-lined lane.

Jack knelt beside her, binoculars pressed to his face, shoulders hunched beneath his overcoat. Along the ridge, Collins and Swan moved like spectres, barely disturbing the marram grass.

Cold had stolen all feeling from her extremities.

Her hands curled in her lap, slick with sea spray, while her heart hammered against her ribs.

Please let him be here. Sinclair’s blood coated her fingernails, the crescents dark rust. No time to grieve.

No time to breathe. Just this endless chase, and somewhere in the darkness, her father’s life ticking away, second by second.

‘There,’ Jack whispered, his voice barely rising above the wind’s lament ‘Five figures. Two dragging someone between them.’

Pa. She almost surged forward, but Jack’s arm barred her like a gate.

‘The U-boat’s running dark,’ he muttered. ‘No surface lights. They’re not here for a casual pickup.’ His jaw clenched. ‘If that submarine takes him, we lose everything.’

Below, on the beach, three men with rifles flanked a small rowing boat. Another hauled gear. And there, a figure gripping her father’s arm with casual brutality.

Further out, the U-boat rose like a scar from the water, its conning tower slick with ocean spray and moonlight. Fear crystallised in Ellie’s throat, sharp as broken glass. ‘We have to move,’ she whispered. ‘Now.’

Jack raised two fingers. Collins and Swan fanned out, melting into the darkness.

He turned to her. ‘Stay here. No arguments.’

She nodded, throat tight. She had no weapon or training save instinct and grit, and the desperate hope that time had not yet run out.

Jack crouched, pistol drawn. The wind shifted, carrying their scent seaward. One of the figures below paused, head lifting.

‘MI5! Drop your weapons!’

Gunfire erupted across the beach. Sharp cracks split the night, muffled by surf and fog.

Through the chaos, Ellie glimpsed her father being dragged towards the rowing boat, hands bound, a leather satchel strapped to his chest. Her stomach lurched.

Pa’s work and the breakthrough that could turn the tide of war was about to vanish into German hands.

Two men shoved Pa into the boat, and he stumbled, falling into the bottom, unmoving.

A third man sprang in and grabbed the oars.

Ellie pressed herself against the dune, wet grass cold against her cheek. The boat was already moving through the shallows, waves grabbing at its hull.

Jack’s pinned down. She glimpsed him, ducked behind rocks. Collins and Swan were lost in the mist, but gunfire echoed somewhere beyond the ridge. She couldn’t wait. Her father was slipping away with each stroke of the oars.

Ellie crept down the shingle, stones shifting beneath her feet. Salt spray blurred her vision. The boat was twenty yards out now, waves crashing around it.

‘No!’ Ellie burst from cover, plunging into the sea. ‘Let him go!’

The rower grinned over his shoulder. ‘Too late, love.’

Suddenly, Jack appeared like vengeance from the surf, tackling the man sideways into the waves. They thrashed in the shallows as Ellie lunged for the unmanned boat. Her coat dragged like chains, but the current ferried the boat back towards the shore and she caught the gunwale with both hands.

Another man emerged from behind the rocks, pistol raised. ‘Get back!’

Jack surfaced, dripping and breathless. ‘Drop the weapon.’

A warning shot split the air.

The man hesitated, weapon wavering. Jack grabbed the boat’s stern and Ellie climbed aboard, reaching for her father with trembling hands. She tore away his blindfold. ‘Pa!’

His eyes fluttered, unfocused and dazed. ‘Ellie?’ he rasped. ‘How did you—’

She sawed through his bonds with the small pocketknife she always carried. ‘We’re getting you out of here.’

He tried to sit up but stumbled. She pulled his arm over her shoulders steadying him as another shot cracked across the water. Jack hit the sand, rolled and came up firing. His bullet struck the man’s pistol, sending it spinning into the rocks.

He turned to flee, but Jack charged after him, tackling him hard, and they crashed together in the churning waves.

Ellie hauled her father from the boat, helping him through the shallows as the tide swelled around their feet. Cold seawater soaked through to her skin, but she didn’t stop until they had crested the dunes and found shelter behind the ridge.

They collapsed at the summit, gasping. Her father leaned into her, soaked and shivering.

Jack reached them moments later, blood seeping through his sleeve.

Down on the beach, three bodies lay sprawled among the rocks.

The abandoned boat drifted aimlessly while further out, the U-boat vanished into the fog.

They’d won. Barely. Richard coughed, his voice rough with exhaustion. ‘They weren’t just after me,’ he croaked. ‘They wanted my work.’

Ellie turned to him. ‘What work?’

His tired eyes met hers. ‘Something portable. Technical. Dangerous in the wrong hands.’

Jack cursed under his breath. ‘Granville’s got a back-up plan.’

Relief flooded through her. Pa was safe, alive, here with her. But the feeling only lasted a moment before the weight of his words sank in. The wind tugged at Ellie’s coat as she stared at the beach, thoughts wheeling through her mind. This isn’t over.

***

The rain had stopped by the time they regrouped at the edge of the cove. Ellie crouched beside her father beneath a gnarled oak, its branches twisted by years of storms. Richard sat wrapped in Jack’s spare blanket, eyes sharp and alert despite the cut along his cheekbone.

‘I overheard them talking,’ he said. ‘They’ve had a copy of the blueprints for weeks.’

Ellie felt the blood drain from her face.

‘Portable radar systems,’ her father continued, his voice gaining urgency. ‘Small enough for fighters. Our pilots could hunt German bombers in complete darkness, spot U-boats before they surface.’ His eyes met Jack’s. ‘But if Berlin reverse-engineers the design …’

‘Their night fighters become invisible killers,’ Jack finished grimly. ‘Our bombers won’t make it past the Channel.’

Richard nodded. ‘Every raid a massacre. Every convoy a death sentence.’

Jack blew out a breath. ‘How long until they crack the design?’

‘Weeks. Maybe less.’ Richard’s voice was hollow with dread.

In Ellie’s mind, she saw RAF Spitfires falling like shot birds, their pilots never knowing what had hit them. Merchant ships burning on dark seas, their escorts helpless against invisible predators.

‘Tangmere,’ she said quietly. ‘The airfield.’

Jack’s expression darkened. ‘If Granville’s shipping the technical specifications tonight …’

‘Then by dawn, the Germans will have our greatest advantage,’ Richard finished. ‘And they’ll turn it against us.’

Jack limped towards the van. ‘If those plans leave British soil, it’s not just the war at stake.’ He turned back, rain glistening on his face. ‘Every pilot in the air and every sailor in the Atlantic becomes a sitting duck. They won’t even see death coming.’

Ellie stared out at the sea. The U-boat was gone but the real danger was just beginning.

‘Then we stop them,’ she said. But even as the words left her lips, doubt crept in like the tide. What if they were already too late?