Page 56 of The Shadow Code (Heroes of War #3)

W inston Churchill stood by a table already set for tea, cigar in hand, his eyes twinkling through the curl of smoke.

Ellie had been waiting nearly half an hour, watching the door with her heart tight in her chest. When it finally opened and Jack stepped in, her breath released in a quiet rush.

He’d clearly made use of the washroom – suit jacket on, tie in place, hair combed.

Only a streak of mud on his trouser leg betrayed what he'd been through.

Churchill turned at once. ‘Mr. Stratton.’ His voice rang with approval as he crossed the room. ‘The hero of the hour.’

He extended a hand, which Jack took and shook firmly. ‘Remarkable work. Calm under pressure. We could use more men like you.’

Jack gave a modest nod. ‘I did what needed to be done, sir.’

Churchill’s eyes crinkled. ‘Modesty and backbone. A rare combination.’

He turned back to the table, gesturing broadly. ‘Come in, come in. Sit down, both of you. We’ve much to discuss and more than a little to be grateful for.’

Ellie resumed her seat, her pulse finally beginning to settle. Jack lowered himself into a chair beside her; he was still composed, but she could see the strain behind his eyes.

Churchill poured the tea himself, adding a generous splash of brandy to his own cup before gesturing to the pot. ‘Milk? Sugar? Don’t be shy. We’ve earned a nip after that little business.’

As a fresh tray of sandwiches was brought in, Churchill turned his attention to Ellie.

‘I know your father, Miss Harcourt. Fine man. Steady. Doing commendable work for the war effort. Without your intervention today, we might very well have lost him to the enemy, which, of course, would never do.’

Ellie blinked, unsure how to respond. ‘Thank you, sir.’

‘The Germans have been probing our coastal defences with increasing sophistication. They are learning, but we must ensure they learn nothing of value.’ His face creased into a smile, eyes sparkling with mischievous warmth.

‘I’d ask how you came to know so much about code breaking, but I already know the answer.

Your father’s spoken of you more than once.

An Oxford graduate, no less. Mathematics, if I recall correctly? Truly admirable.’

Ellie’s breath caught, warmth tingling in her cheeks.

Pa? Speaking about me? He’d never said as much to her, not directly, anyway.

She’d assumed he viewed her role in the war as a sidestep.

A detour from the respectable life she’d left behind.

But here was the Prime Minister saying otherwise.

She lowered her gaze and lifted her teacup, hoping the steam would mask the sudden sting in her eyes. He is proud of me.

Churchill leaned back in his chair, puffing thoughtfully on a fat cigar. ‘London has taken a beating this year. But what strikes me most is how people have rallied. From clerks to cabbies, codebreakers to chimney sweeps, everyone doing their bit. And you have both done more than your share.’

‘Thank you, sir,’ Jack said.

Churchill adopted a more businesslike tone. ‘Your actions over the past week may very well have preserved the integrity of Britain’s radar defences. The loss of those blueprints would have been catastrophic.’

Jack nodded. ‘We did our best, sir.’

‘Indeed. And you’ve uncovered a traitor in our own house, which is no small thing.’

Ellie’s stomach twisted. Not just any traitor – her flatmate. Someone who’d laughed with her hours ago at the Savoy, who’d linked arms walking home.

Churchill’s expression darkened for a moment.

‘Of course, there’s more to come. Exposing Granville was a great service, but we’ve reason to believe foreign interests are still sniffing around our scientific assets.

The game is far from over.’ Churchill topped up his tea theatrically with another splash of brandy and raised his cup.

‘Well, I’d say this little gathering deserves a toast – though I suppose toasting with tea is rather unorthodox.

’ His grin widened. ‘To sense, to swiftness and to survival.’

Jack and Ellie lifted their cups in quiet agreement.

A knock interrupted the moment. Churchill turned his head. ‘Come.’

The door opened to admit a tall, silver-haired man in an impeccably tailored dark suit, the kind that whispered of Savile Row and old money. His expression was cool, almost imperious, and his eyes scanned the room as if assessing it for weaknesses.

Churchill’s tone shifted, becoming warmer, but still with formality. ‘Ah. Lord Halverston. Do come in.’

Jack’s posture straightened. Ellie felt a faint tightening in the air, as if the atmosphere had dipped a few degrees.

‘Miss Harcourt, Mr. Stratton,’ Churchill said, gesturing between them, ‘may I present Lord Halverston, liaison to the War Office.’

Halverston offered a brief nod in greeting, though his eyes lingered on Ellie a shade too long.

‘A pleasure,’ he said, the words polished but hollow.

Jack didn’t smile. ‘Likewise.’

Churchill poured him a cup of tea, but Halverston waved it off.

‘I’m afraid I’ve little time for ceremony. I’ve read the early reports. A narrow escape.’ His gaze flicked to Jack. ‘Efficient work. Though I’d like to know why disposal wasn’t in place earlier.’

Jack opened his mouth, but Churchill cut in smoothly. ‘They were delayed. Roads from Lambeth took a pounding last night. But Stratton did what needed to be done, and he did it well.’

Halverston offered no apology, only another unreadable look. Then to Ellie, casually, he said, ‘And you were the one who cracked the code.’

It wasn’t a question. Ellie nodded slowly. ‘I helped interpret it, yes.’

‘A useful skill,’ Halverston said, then turned his attention back to Churchill. ‘We’ll need a full report within the day. And I’ll be arranging a review of your department’s internal clearance procedures. There is a breach, Prime Minister.’

Churchill’s smile faded. ‘Indeed.’

The silence that followed was thin and taut. Ellie’s fingers tightened around her teacup. Jack sat very still, eyes locked on the edge of the table as if weighing his words.

Lord Halverston put Ellie on edge. The measured tone, the polished calm. He made her feel watched in the way a lion stalks his prey. Is this what power looks like? she wondered. Cold, and calculated. I expect he’s always two moves ahead.

Across the table, Halverston set his spoon down with a quiet clink.

‘We’ll be keeping a closer eye on key scientific assets going forward,’ he said mildly.

‘Discretion is paramount. Sometimes, even those with the highest clearances prove …’ – he paused as his eyes settled on Ellie – ‘ unreliable , and one must always be prepared to cut loose the dead weight.’

His gaze lingered a fraction too long and her skin prickled. She didn’t like him at all, she decided, nor did she trust him. And she had the creeping, unmistakable feeling he didn’t trust her either.

The word unreliable echoed in her head. How could I have been so wrong about Catherine?

Sweet, bookish Catherine who’d fretted over tea rationing.

Catherine who’d planted a bomb to kill Churchill.

If I missed that completely, how can I trust my judgement about anyone ?

Her mind flickered to the name whispered in corridors.

Kingfisher. Still out there. Elusive. Untouchable.

A ghost in the system, pulling strings from the shadows … maybe even sitting at this very table …

She shifted in her seat and reached for her cup, more to break the moment than to drink her tea. I’m imagining things, she told herself. But the unease stayed with her, like a splinter beneath the skin.

***

Leaving was easier than arriving. One of the Royal Marines guarding the doors opened it wide, and Ellie and Jack stepped through without question. As the doors thudded shut behind them, they both exhaled and Ellie embraced the cool, sharp air of London.

It was warmer outside than she remembered – and brighter, too. The sky scrubbed clean by the morning’s threat. Ellie drew in a deep breath, a faint smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. Tea with the PM. Not quite how she’d imagined her day.

Jack looked lighter somehow, like a weight had shifted from his shoulders. ‘Well,’ he said, voice low and wry. ‘That’s one for the memory books.’

Ellie turned to him, her smile softening. ‘What you did was wonderful, you know.’

He gave a faint shrug. ‘Got lucky.’

‘No,’ she said, more firmly. ‘You carried a bomb into a public park and made sure no one got hurt. That wasn’t luck. That was brave. Stupidly brave.’

He looked away for a moment, jaw flexing.

‘I wasn’t sure I’d make it,’ he admitted.

‘Timer was already running down. I thought, well, if I’m wrong about the mechanism, about how it’s rigged …

’ He paused for a moment. ‘But I kept thinking about Churchill’s bunker.

If it had gone up … the message it would’ve sent.

’ He shook his head slightly. ‘I couldn’t let that happen. ’

She reached out, touched his sleeve. ‘I’m glad you didn’t. But I wish you hadn’t had to do it alone.’

He gave her a tired smile. ‘Wouldn’t have known what to do with company.’

A beat passed between them, heavy with everything unsaid. She let her hand fall back to her side. ‘I’ve never been so relieved to see anyone walk through a door,’ she said quietly.

‘You and me both.’

They reached Jack’s Rover, and he held the door open for her as she slid onto the passenger seat. He got in and started the ignition, driving slowly off down Horse Guards Road.

The city passed by in muted colours. Grey buildings, soot-dusted glass, sunlight bleeding through the haze like weak tea.

London, just after a near miss. The soft hum of the engine filled the quiet between them, steadier than Ellie’s heartbeat.

She sat stiffly, coat still buttoned, the heat from the dashboard doing little to thaw the cold in her chest. ‘She told me yesterday she had to be in early,’ she murmured.

‘Eight sharp. Said it like it mattered.’

Jack didn’t look at her, but his voice was low and even. ‘Conveniently timed. She planted it, then walked away.’

Ellie rubbed a hand over her face. ‘And I never saw it coming.’

‘No one did,’ he said. ‘That’s what makes them good.’ Silence fell again. Then, more quietly, he added, ‘MI5 started digging the moment she disappeared. Her file didn’t hold up. The clearance was fake. Forged months ago. She was never officially assigned to the War Rooms.’

Ellie’s heart gave a dull thud. She thought of the cups of tea. The shy smiles. The dove brooch glinting in the corridor light. ‘How long has she been watching me?’ she asked.

Jack didn’t answer. He didn’t need to. The car turned, sweeping past a row of shuttered shops.

‘She lived with me,’ she said finally, her voice barely audible.

‘She knew where I kept my spare key. What time I came home. What I read before bed. She made tea when I couldn’t sleep.

Asked about my father. Said she wanted to be braver.

’ Her voice cracked on that last word. ‘She was watching me, and I never realised,’ she whispered, her hands curling into fists, nails pressing into her palms.

He pulled the car to a quiet stop outside her building, the engine ticking faintly beneath the silence. Then, he reached across and took her hand and she held on, and for a while, neither of them moved.