Final Hours

by Cate Dean

  Once she moved over a little, she was able to see the front, and confirm her location. The long, narrow building stretched all the way to a grass covered hill, and the steps that led up to the road. Another hill ran alongside it, screening her from anyone above, unless they walked right to the edge of the hill and looked down.

  Since she heard nothing but wind blowing through unseen trees, she figured she was safe for the moment.

  She used the building to support her as she made her way down the narrow, muddy path between building and hill, toward the stairs that would lead her up to the road.

  When she reached the corner of the magazine, she was able to see the top of the hill. Everything looked quiet. She stepped back, glanced down at the map on her transport. Mac had sent an overview of the grounds of Dover Castle, with the underground tunnels marked in red. Elizabeth remembered the layout from her visits here. The tunnels had especially fascinated her, and she took the tour as many times as the staff would let her.

  She was thankful now for her obsession. If she knew then it would have meant life or death, she might have—

  Stop.

  “I will not panic,” she whispered. She shook out her hands, took in a not so steady breath, and moved to the staircase.

  Concrete steps climbed up the hill, steep, narrow, and without the sturdy railing from her time. Elizabeth decided to move slowly, both to keep her stomach from rebelling, and to spot anyone before they spotted her. She started up, and the wind hit her halfway to the top. Literally.

  She had forgotten how strong it could be, with the tunnels located at the edge of the cliff, right next to the harbour. One hand clutched the lapels of her jacket, the other out and ready to grab ground if she lost her balance. The pistol swung against her right hip, a constant reminder of what she might have to do to stop Guy.

  Whatever it takes—I can’t let him succeed.

  The “whatever it took” part kept trying to lodge her heart in her throat. Along with the fact she only had one chance to stop him. She knew there would be no do over option.

  God, I wish Kane was here.

  She shoved that thought right out—it was instantly distracting, when she needed to focus.

  Three steps from the top she halted, scanned the immediate surroundings. The entrance to the tunnels was in the same place, set into a small hill, and a soldier walked nearby. She crouched down, lifted herself just enough to watch him. After less than a minute she knew. She closed her eyes briefly, and eased back down the steps until she felt safe.

  He guarded the only way in.

  Elizabeth knew, from her research after visiting the castle, that she needed a special pass to be anywhere on the castle grounds. A bright red pass she wouldn’t be able to duplicate. There had to be another way…

  A crazy idea flashed into her mind. Crazy enough that it might work.

  She climbed down the stairs, headed back along the building, and scrabbled up the hill facing it. For the plan to even have a chance of working, she had to look like she came from the main gate. Being disheveled and sweaty would actually work to her advantage.

  Once she got to the top, she hugged the side of the building, and let the giant tree at the front of it shadow her from anyone who may walk down the access road. She made her way around the thick trunk, tried to blend into the side of the building, and took a few seconds to compose herself, get the names straight, and right on the tip of her tongue. She had one shot at this.

  A quick glance at the transport accelerated her already pounding heart. Forty minutes. She slipped the pistol out of her jacket and tucked it in her waistband, in the small of her back. The cold metal against her skin made her twitch, but if she left it in her pocket she risked the very real possibility of a search.

  She shoved the transport up her forearm, out of sight, took in a deep breath, and stepped out on to the road, running by the time she came in sight of the soldier.

  “Whoa,” he said. He caught her when she practically slammed into him. “I’ve got you now. How did you get here?”

  “The gate.” She gasped the words out and clutched his arm. The accent she picked up from her colleagues at the art gallery wrapped around her words. “My brother— Please, I need to see James—James Stopford—”

  “Hold on. The Lieutenant is your brother?” Uh, oh. He didn’t sound convinced. Maybe he knew Stopford outside his duties, knew his family and that he didn’t have a sister— “He failed to mention his sister was a beauty. Ewan Gryffyth.” He sandwiched her hand. “It is my sincere pleasure.”

  “Thank you.” Her voice was breathless, mainly from abject fear. She pushed at the hair the wind tossed around her face. “Please. There’s been an accident. I need to—”

  “Come with me.”

  She didn’t know what triggered his immediate acceptance of her, but she took it. He unlocked the door, pulled her inside the tunnel, down the long, steep entry ramp—and pinned her to the wall at the bottom.

  “Now, beautiful. Why don’t you tell me who you really are?”

  ~ ~ ~

  A knock on the door had Kane on his feet before he remembered the low ceiling.

  “Damn it.” He rubbed the top of his head as he moved to the door and unlocked it, pulling it open. Bridget stood on the other side. Guilt flared through him at the probable reason for her appearance. “Did we displace anyone? I know I’ve overstayed my welcome—”

  “Shush, my dear boy. I simply came up to check on you and—where is Elizabeth?”

  He already had a lie for this question. “She went to check on some friends.”

  “Of course. Sit down, Jackson.” He flinched at the use of his first name, not all that surprised she knew it, and obeyed. Bridget joined him, set the basket she held on the floor, folded her hands in her lap, and gazed at him. “Now, my dear boy, why don’t you tell me where Elizabeth really is?”

  “I don’t—”

  She raised one eyebrow. “I am not a fool, and your darling girl trusted me enough to tell me everything.”

  He swallowed. “Everything. Including—”

  “That you are not from around here? Yes.” She patted his hand. “I am old enough, and have seen enough, that very little surprises me. Aside from the fact that you both looked shell shocked, I knew you had not been in London—my London—long enough to adjust to the raids. Which meant you were from out of town. Until Elizabeth told me, I did not realize just how far.”

  Kane rubbed his forehead. “She is—gone.” He closed his eyes, startled when Bridget gripped his hand.

  “She’s walked into danger, then?”

  “To protect someone important, and to prevent a former friend from changing events.”

  “Oh, my dear Jackson. You would have made a fantastic politician. Such eloquent evasion. I will wait with you.”

  “Bridget—there’s no need—”

  “Nonsense. Anything unexpected that happens in this attic will stay in this attic.” She leaned over and picked up the basket. “I sent up scant supplies earlier, so I know you must be hungry.” His growling stomach answered for him. “Good. It’s rather basic, I’m afraid. My displaced neighbors and I pooled our resources, and with recent losses,” she cleared her throat, her gaze on the basket. “There is more of a surplus than normal.”

  Kane laid his hand over hers. “I am sorry.”

  “I know you are, dear boy, and that you are sincere with it. Share a meal with me, and we will wait for your Elizabeth together.”

  Well aware that no argument would sway her, Kane nodded, and helped her lay out bread, cheese, a tiny bottle of jam, two jars of water.

  “It looks delicious, Bridget.”

  “No meat, I’m afraid. It has gone to the men who are fighting fires in the city.”

  “You have been more than generous, with a stranger who doesn’t deserve it.”

  “I will be the judge of that, Jackson.” She laid a thick slab of cheese on a thicker slice of bread and handed it to him. “Now eat.”<
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  “Yes, madam.” He took a bite, his stomach growling again. “It says thank you as well.”

  Her laughter filled the attic, eased the grief in her dark eyes. “I understand why she loves you.”

  “What—she—what?” He nearly dropped the bread.

  “She may have come to the knowledge only recently… and she said as much to you, before she left.”

  “That obvious?”

  “You miss her, worry for her. It’s in your eyes, dear boy, what you hold in your heart.”

  “She had to go alone.” He swallowed, staring at his hands. “And tis my fault.”

  “Hush, now.” Bridget rubbed his arm, her touch warm, soothing. He had never known the touch of a mother; his guardian had taken him on when he was fourteen, and had been a gruff, kindly man who avoided any displays of affection. Kane saw why Elizabeth confided in Bridget. She inspired trust, and an immediate emotional connection. “Tell me of her, Jackson. Of how you met, and when you lost your heart to her.”

  With a sigh, he met her eyes. “If I didn’t know better, I might think you were a mind reader.”

  “Simply observant, dear boy. Eat, then we will talk.”

  He did, savoring the rich, tangy flavor of the cheese, the cool, clean taste of the water. Talk would help make the wait bearable.

  But it wouldn’t ease the weight on his heart, and the fear that he had sent Elizabeth to die. In his place.

  ~ ~ ~

  Elizabeth stared up at Gryffyth.

  “I—”

  “No lies this time. I don’t know how you managed to get yourself this far, but I will have answers. Now.”

  His fingers closed around her throat. He didn’t apply pressure, but it wasn’t necessary; the implied threat was terrifying enough. Elizabeth clutched the wall to keep from clawing at him.

  “I’m here to warn the Admiral—”

  His grip tightened. “Warn him, or harm him?”

  “Please—there isn’t much time. A man is on his way here to kill Admiral Ramsay. He’ll succeed if you don’t—”

  With a startled squeak her voice cut off as his fingers tightened. “I can end the threat now.”

  Elizabeth forced herself to meet his eyes. Dark, chocolate brown eyes. Eyes that looked like they had already seen too much. Every instinct told her to fight. She ignored them, and kept looking at him.

  “You are a cool one, beautiful.” He let her go. She sucked in a harsh breath, coughing when it hit her throat. His left hand captured her arm, and his fingers dug in as he yanked her forward. “Now, tell me why I should believe you, when you are carrying a weapon?”

  He reached around, slid his hand under her shirt, and pulled the pistol out of her waistband.

  “Please.” She dropped the accent, unable to sustain it over a long conversation. “I’ll go unarmed.” Gryffyth jerked at her new voice. She kept talking before he did anything to stop her. “You can even handcuff me. Just please give me the chance to warn him.” She would happily beg, if it got her through the tunnels and into Ramsay’s presence.

  “You’re a Yank.” His brown eyes studied her. “There is no reason for you to be here.”

  “I’m not the original messenger. He couldn’t make it.”

  “If you are here to warn,” Gryffyth held up the pistol, “then why are you armed?”

  She swallowed. “It’s to stop the man bent on killing Ramsay.” She could feel the minutes slip away from her while he decided, precious minutes. Guy was here, close by. He may already be inside, headed straight to Ramsay while she stood here— “Please. You took my weapon. All I want to do is talk to the Admiral.”

  “I believe he’s smart enough to detect a threat before it—”

  “And if the threat is dressed as a soldier? With a legitimate pass and a compelling reason to see him?” Gryffyth paled. “What?”

  “An RAF flight lieutenant showed up at Constable’s Gateway, claiming he had an urgent message for the Admiral. He had a pass, a legitimate pass.”

  Oh, God— “When?”

  “I just sent him down, before you arrived.”

  Elizabeth shoved past him. Gryffyth caught her before she got three steps. “No—we have to stop—”

  “I’m going with you.” He handed her the pistol, grabbed her free hand. She held on to him as he took off, running to keep up with his long stride. She prayed for him to go faster.

  They headed down the long tunnel, and finally reached the wide hall leading to Ramsay’s office. Only now it was broken up, offices lining the hall on her right. A wall halfway down the hall completely blocked her view.

  Gryffyth kept a tight grip on her hand as he ran down the now narrow hall. The fact that they hadn’t run into Guy yet terrified her.

  They reached the wall, and Elizabeth realized it was the side of an office. Halfway down, the builders switched sides—now the offices lined the left side. Gryffyth pulled her into a narrow pass through and over to the other side of the hall, finally giving her line of sight to their destination. Voice filtered out of the offices as they ran past. Maybe the Admiral was in one of them, hunched over a table or a desk, safe from Guy—

  That hope died when she saw a slight figure in uniform walk past the open doorway of his office. She recognized Ramsay from the photos she’d seen. They were almost there—she would save him this time, stop Guy before he even got in shooting distance.

  Her heart skipped when she saw Guy step out of a connecting hall, practically in front of them, and slip into the office. The door closed behind him.

  “No—” Gryffyth let her go and bolted forward. By the time she caught up with him, he had already checked the knob. “Stand back.”

  He slammed his foot into the door. It flew open. Elizabeth sprinted inside and rammed into Guy’s back.

  A thin laser blast hit the window frame next to Ramsay’s shoulder. The wood sizzled, the only other sound the short, low whine as Guy’s pistol recharged. No one would have heard a thing with the door closed. Ramsay would have died alone.

  “What the hell—” Guy jerked around. Elizabeth pointed her pistol at him, moving until she stood between him and Ramsay. Guy had trapped him against the wide window at the end of his office, between the wall and a waist high cabinet.

  She glanced over her shoulder, just long enough to see that Ramsay was upright, and looked like he was in one piece. “Are you okay, Admiral?”

  “A moment ago, I would have said no. But you and Sergeant Gryffyth arrived in the nick of time.”

  “How fortunate for you, Admiral,” Guy said. He sounded furious, even though a smile tugged at his mouth. “Are you going to shoot me, sweet, innocent Elizabeth?”

  “Only if you try to harm the Admiral.” She expected to panic, or at the very least, feel disgusted at the need to hold a weapon. Instead, she felt strong, in control. That terrified her more than an impending panic attack. “Leave now, Guy, never come back, and no one will stop you.” She caught Gryffyth’s eye. He nodded, once, clearly not happy at her proposal.

  “You know I won’t be able to come back, don’t you, Elizabeth? The vulgar Texan must have told you of the portal’s particular quirk. A shame, that. I could have done so much more for them, if I had been able to return after I changed events.”

  God—he was crazy. “Which is why that quirk exists.”

  Guy smiled. “You are delightful. I can see why Kane is enamored. But you are also in my way.”

  He aimed the pistol behind her and she did the one thing she never thought she’d be able to do. She shot him.

  He stumbled back a step and stared at her for an endless second. Then he snarled and aimed his pistol. At her.

  She stilled, keeping herself between him and Ramsay. She couldn’t let the shot get past her—

  Gryffyth slammed into Guy’s back as the pistol fired. Elizabeth screamed when a line of fire burned across her right shoulder.

  Warm hands caught her as she stumbled. She looked up in time to see Guy shove Gryffy
th out of the way and dart past him, out of the office.

  “No—”

  “Slowly, now.” Ramsay steadied her. “You need to sit.”

  “Thank you, but I have to go.” She pulled herself out of his grip and ran after Guy. Every step jarred the burning in her shoulder.

  “Wait!” Gryffyth stopped her just outside the office. “You’re hurt—”

  “I can’t let him leave. Did I wound him?”

  He blinked at her. “Yes. Left side.”

  “Stay here, keep Ramsay safe.”

  “How did you know he planned to harm the Admiral?”

  “He told me. How do I get out of here?”

  “Put your pistol away. We won’t get two steps if the others see it.”

  Elizabeth tucked it in her jacket pocket. Her actions had gained her an ally; hopefully, that alliance wouldn’t hurt Gryffyth.

  He took her up himself, stopped long enough to grab one of the officers who stood in the hall and whisper to him. Elizabeth caught the officer’s name, and stared at him before Gryffyth pulled her out of sight. He was James Stopford.

  They ran back the way they came. Gryffyth slowed, and she understood why when she saw the slumped figure at the corner of the tunnel that led up to the exit.

  Gryffyth let go of her hand and crouched next to him. He looked at her when she joined him. “One of mine.” The anger in his eyes stunned her. “He is still alive.”

  “Get him help and stay here, in case Guy comes back.” Elizabeth recognized this part of the tunnel from the tour, and knew her way from here. She stood, reached out to touch his cheek. He was so young, too young for what was coming. “Keep yourself safe, Gryffyth.”

  She moved before he could stop her, and ran up the long tunnel to the double doors. She glanced down at the concrete floor, saw a trail of blood. It had to be Guy’s, and if he was injured, he wouldn’t be able to step into the portal—not alone. Or was he crazy enough to go anyway?