Princess Elizabeth's Spy(103)

The submarine could continue sailing this way, on the surface, all the way to France. Unless they wanted to swim in the freezing waters, they were as trapped on the sail as they were in the bowels of the submarine. Her eyes scanned the horizon for any sign of a British ship. Come on, Mr. Churchill, I’m running out of tricks.

She looked at David and Lilibet. David had a nasty head wound; his blood still caked in his hair and on his face. Lilibet’s face had scratches and bruising and was stained with tears. Around them, on all sides, was nothing but sky and the ocean.

Gregory emerged from the hatch. He had a desperate expression on his face. He was followed by Boothby and two armed crewmen.

“No!” Gregory cried, his voice getting lost in the freezing wind, as he approached their perch on top of the sail. He climbed toward them as Boothby and the two sailors came behind him.

“Come back inside! You’re safe with me! I never meant to hurt anyone!”

The group stared at him, as though he were an apparition. He certainly looked like one, his face gaunt, his eyes haunted.

“You don’t understand!” Gregory called. “I can’t go back to England!” His eyes leaked tears, as his voice grew frenzied. “I can’t do it!” He kept climbing. “It’s freezing cold up there in those planes, it’s dark—they shoot at you, you shoot at them. People die, but before they do, they scream—horrible high-pitched screams. Men cry. I’ve seen people with limbs burned off, with melted skin and bone.”

He reached them and raised his hands in supplication; his eyes had a cold, dead look to them. “I just want it all to stop. The nightmares and the memories and the horror—I can’t go back. Can’t even seem to drink myself to death! That’s why I made this deal with the Devil. This way I don’t have to go back!”

Gregory’s pain was palpable. Was he a villain, or just a casualty of war? Maggie felt a mixture of both horror and sympathy wash through her. She knew him—or thought she did.

“Then no more killing,” she said. “End it. You’re not your father—you don’t have to be.” Just as I don’t have to be mine, she thought, almost absently. “Don’t sell us all out to the Nazis just to save yourself. You might live, but what about your conscience?”

But he couldn’t meet her eyes, and turned away. “Let me worry about my conscience, Maggie,” he said, calmer now.

The wind began to die down and the waves weren’t quite as violent. And she could also hear the rumbling engine of a ship. They all looked toward the direction of the sound.

Whose ship was it? German or British?

“It’s German,” Gregory said, as if reading their minds. “You quite cleverly disarmed the sub, but they’ve radioed to France for a pickup from a German patrol boat. There’s nowhere for you to run. Even if I wanted to help you now, I couldn’t. Things are in motion and have taken on a momentum of their own.”

“That’s pathetic, Gregory,” Maggie called. “Don’t be a coward. Be the hero I know you can be.”

The sound of the engine seemed closer, and Maggie felt a tingle of horror. She knew what she had to do, if the worst happened. David would have to use his cyanide tablet, and she’d have to jump overboard. The Nazis weren’t going to take them alive. And she had to believe that Lilibet would be treated well in Germany and that Frain and Churchill would somehow rescue her.

The sun was rising in the sky. Maggie could see the Nazi patrol boat coming toward them, and she put her arm around Lilibet. Red sky in the morning, sailors take warning, Maggie thought absently. She looked around her. So, this is how it ends, she thought. Well, she thought, looking over at David, at least we’re fighting the good fight together.

And then, without warning, the world seemed to explode. There was a wall of noise. Bright flashes and flares of light. The stench of smoke. Time itself was pierced by a thunderous detonation. The waves roiled and crested and the sub lurched to one side and back again. Boothby and the crewmen struggled to keep their balance.

Lilibet fell against Maggie, whose back hit the guardrail, hard.

David took advantage of the swaying to grab Gregory by his coat and sideswipe him with the briefcase, which hit his face with a loud crack. Gregory staggered back, stunned. He put his hand to his cheek, and his face lit with rage. He lunged for David, grabbing him by the throat and squeezing, eyes wild.

Maggie saw David struggling to get free from Gregory. She ran to Gregory and tried to pry his hands off David’s neck. Lilibet, seeing what was happening, crawled over to Gregory, brave as the Prince in Sleeping Beauty. Just as Maggie kneed him in the groin, Lilibet bit down on his ankle as hard as she could. “Good girl!” Maggie managed.