Princess Elizabeth's Spy(99)
“Thanks, Maggie,” she managed, cold spray dousing her.
“ ‘Elizabeth and Leicester/Beating oars,’ ” Gregory quoted, finishing off the flask and throwing it in a long arc over the waves. He winked at Lilibet. “I suppose that would make me Leicester.”
“I hardly think Eliot was thinking of us all ‘Supine on the floor of a narrow canoe,’ ” Maggie said. The wind was stronger now and she wrapped her arms around herself to keep warm. The waves were making her nauseous. She looked at David. In the darkness, she could see his eyes were still closed.
“So now it’s your turn,” Gregory said. “Where was the decrypt?”
Maggie gave a grim smile. “In the frontispiece of Lily’s Le Fantôme de l’Opéra.”
“How the hell do you know?”
“Because I was the one who found it,” Maggie shot back.
“It was Lily’s nickname for me—after I was burned so badly on one side of my face. It was our little joke, her calling me Le Fantôme.” Then, “This is it,” he said to Boothby, who cut the engine and turned on a kerosene lantern.
“Ship?” Maggie asked.
“Submarine,” he corrected. Oh, fantastic, Maggie thought.
Boothby used a flashlight to check his watch. “The pickup window is open for one more hour.”
Chapter Twenty-eight
The Prime Minister’s rooms at Windsor Castle had been transformed into makeshift War Rooms, with maps and pushpins and memos. The roar of the fire behind the andirons nearly overcame the soft and relentless tick of the mantel clock. The P.M. and King sat in large leather chairs while Frain paced.
“We have the Princess’s code, telling us they’re going to Mossley, which is near Grimsby. We have an intercept from a Y-station, saying that someone near Grimsby radioed a German U-boat. We have a German U-boat moving into position off the coast of Mossley. It’s obvious they’re trying to get the Princess out of Britain. However, the U-boat can’t get too close to shore—she’ll need at least five miles. Which means that either a few men from the U-boat will form a landing party and try to get to shore in one of the U-boat’s rubber dinghies. Or they have a boat hidden away on shore and will use that to meet the U-boat.”
The King sat very still. “What are the weather reports?”
“High winds, Your Majesty,” Frain answered. “They need to do it at night, under the cover of darkness. If they decide the conditions are too dangerous, they may try to establish another rendezvous, in a few days. But they must know that putting it off would increase their chances of being found.”
“After Dunkirk, the Royal Navy seized everything that could float!” Churchill barked.
“Yes, sir,” Frain replied. “But it’s possible that someone hid away a fishing skiff or other small craft, for just this very occasion.”
The telephone rang, a shrill sound. Frain dove for it. “Yes?” he said, then listened intently. “Thank you, Admiral Kirk.”
He put a hand over the receiver. “Kirk, from the Admiralty,” he told them. “They’ve pinpointed the U-boat. The U-two-forty-six is moving closer into shore, near Mossley.”
“Wonderful!” the King said, his face not as pale as it had been.
“Not exactly,” Frain said. “They could be anywhere near Mossley. And the weather isn’t helping.”
“Put every man on it,” Churchill growled. “Have them sift through every grain of sand and drop of water—until we find the Princess!”
Frain spoke into the receiver again. “Move two of our submarines into the area and see if you can get an exact location on U-two-forty-six. Move two of the Royal Navy’s corvettes in, as well. If we can’t get a lock on them by dawn, I’ll have the air force do a patrol.”
“I’m assuming, sir,” Kirk said on the other end of the line, “that the hostage is valuable?”
“Yes,” Frain replied. “Extremely valuable. Tell all your boys to keep that in mind.”
Maggie was gripped with fear and pain, but adrenaline kept her sharp. Jaw clenched against the cold and wind, she scanned the sky and sea in the moonlight, looking for anything—British ship or plane, Nazi U-boat. Who would reach them first? Mathematics were true and cruel. You have a fifty-fifty chance, Hope. Probability equals the number of desirable outcomes divided by the number of possible outcomes. A coin flip. And that’s only theoretical—a big wave might take you out first—better make that one of the possible outcomes. Probability of survival dips even lower, then.…