A Secret Courage

by Tricia Goyer

  “We stay in one of the metal huts on the property,” Vera explained. “Danesfield House was built by the heir to the Sunlight soap company, and my guess is that officers are the ones sleeping in the posh bedrooms. But I think we’re running out of room for the huts. At the edge of the garden there’s a large sloping hill that goes to the Thames.”

  Uneasiness came over Emma at how freely Vera gave information. Before Vera could continue, Emma opened the door and stepped out. She clutched her bag to herself, thankful that the rain here was no more than a soft mist.

  “Thank you for the ride.” She smiled as Vera stepped out of the auto too. “It’s been nice getting to know you.” She took a step back.

  “Emma.” Will motioned for her to wait, and then he got out of the car and walked around toward her. Slipping out of the way, Vera moved toward the security guard.

  Emma held her breath as Will approached. He wore a half smile, and it caused her stomach to do a small flip. “Thank you again,” she repeated, not knowing what else to say.

  “I really enjoyed getting to know you.” He chuckled. “And I thought it was just going to be a boring old train ride.”

  “I enjoyed it too.”

  “I was wondering…do you have another day off soon? It would be nice to get together again. Maybe meet for lunch? I’d be happy to pick you up.”

  “I would like that. Although I’m not sure about days off.”

  Will pulled something out of his pocket. It was a slip of paper with the address. “I just happen to have this with me. Can you send a message?” Hope filled Will’s blue eyes, causing butterflies to dance in Emma’s stomach.

  “Yes, Will Fletcher. When I find out when I have time off, I’ll send you a note.”

  A smile filled his face, and for a moment she thought he was going to reach for her hand. Instead, he tapped the bag she held. “And don’t forget…I still want to borrow that book.”

  TWELVE

  March 8, 1943

  Her first weeks flew by, and the only time Emma had to think about Will was a few minutes in the morning after a long shift before she drifted off to sleep. As the morning light crept its fingers of warmth under the door to her Nissen hut, Emma would snuggle under her scratchy gray blankets and wonder if it was too late to contact him. Had he already forgot about her? Thankfully it was easier to push him out of her mind on days when the heartbreaking news reports made them all want to work harder.

  Most of the time her thoughts were focused on the secret weapon investigation. Word continued to come to them that Hitler had rockets in production, rockets that could reach London without having to depend on bombers. The thought of it caused fear to grip her, and ice raced through Emma’s veins. Every time it seemed as if the Allies were gaining some ground, like the sinking of eight Japanese transport ships near New Guinea and Rommel’s retreating in North Africa, word would come of a German advancement, as they were now doing on Kharkov. Would they ever stop?

  Every time her mind attempted to fill with worry, Emma turned her attention to the task at hand, but today that would be hard to do. Today was the anniversary of her brother’s death. Emma guessed that she should probably go someplace and just let herself have a good cry, but instead she kept pressing on. She had a job to do—something that was more important than any emotions.

  Since they were still waiting for new covers of Peenemünde, Emma scoured other photographs, looking for any sign of the long inclines that her superiors expected to see. She rubbed her eyes and then picked up a large stack of covers. They weren’t a top priority. Instead, the pilot had used the last of his film to take these as he was flying over. Emma guessed that like the stacks and stacks of other photographs that she’d gone over that day, these photos would soon be tucked into a cardboard box for Vera to file away. The boxes were organized in the basement, and most would remain untouched until after the war. But before she could pass them on, Emma had to make sure there was nothing she’d missed.

  Because most of Europe was built along rivers and around hills, and separated by random patterns of hedges and roads, finding something that didn’t fit was challenging. More than that, Emma’s work required her to notice small details and have an excellent memory. She feared if she blinked an eye or let her mind wander, she’d miss something important.

  As she peered through her stereoscope, Emma released a heavy sigh. Today she didn’t need Georgette to tell her she should take a break. She finished examining the last photo, pushed them to the side, and looked to the window. The sun had come out, and she needed some fresh air. She needed time to pray for her mother and father too, that God would give them strength to face this day. She was just exiting her workroom when she saw Vera walking down the hall.

  “I know you’re working late today, but I thought you’d like to go for a walk. I don’t know about you, but the sun was making it jolly difficult for me to remain in the dungeon.” Vera’s smile was a little too cheerful.

  Emma released a heavy sigh. “That’s exactly what I was thinking…well, without the jolly part.” Vera didn’t seem to notice her downcast demeanor.

  Reaching the top of the staircase, Emma barely saw the man who pushed the broom in the front foyer area of Danesfield House. She would have walked right past him had it not been for Vera tugging on her sleeve.

  “I think someone is watching you.”

  Emma paused and looked around, trying to figure out what Vera was talking about. “What was that?”

  Vera nodded her chin toward the bottom of the stairs. “Down there, with the broom.”

  Emma told herself not to look. She tried to appear inconspicuous as she walked down the sweeping staircase. When she got to the bottom of the stairs, she glanced over her shoulder and her eyes locked with his. Stocky with dirty blond hair and mustache, he was handsome in a nondescript sort of way. Thin lips curled up in a smile, and he leaned on his broom and lifted his chin her direction.

  “Some girls have all the luck,” Vera muttered under her breath. “Two guys in two weeks!”

  Emma took Vera’s hand and squeezed. “You don’t have to worry. I don’t need two dates. Right now I’m just figuring out a time when I can see Will.” The idea of Will brought a glimmer of hope to her heavy heart.

  Vera sighed. She paused before the large front door and buttoned her coat before going outside. “Maybe I should act disinterested. It seems to draw the attention of dashing men.”

  Emma glanced over her shoulder one more time as they exited. “Have you seen him before?” She closed the door behind her.

  “No, probably new here.”

  “And I wonder why he isn’t in the war.”

  “I’m sure there’s a reason. Bad hearing, bad knees, or maybe he’s even served and was injured.” Vera paused and winked. “Maybe you should go ask him. Invite him for a stroll. He’s handsome, and it might be easier to spend time with him than with Will Fletcher.” Vera’s voice rose in a lilting singsong tone. “As I told you, this Wedding Cake estate needs a wedding.”

  “I’m sorry.” Emma released a heavy sigh. “A wedding is the last thing on my mind today.” Vera continued down the curving sidewalk, but Emma paused, unable to contain the emotion anymore. It started with the trembling of her shoulders and then moved to her chin. She covered her face with her hands and stepped to the side while a senior officer passed.

  Vera approached, putting her arm on Emma’s back.

  “I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t be doing this.”

  “It’s been a year, hasn’t it…since the telegram arrived?” Vera said while she softly rubbed her hand on Emma’s shoulder.

  Instead of answering her question Emma nodded. “I hurt for myself, but I hurt for my parents more. I wrote a letter a few weeks ago. I hope it arrived to Mom and Dad before today. They need to know I’m all right and safe. As safe as I can be in a war. At least I’m not in London. That should give them some peace, right?”

  Vera nodded. “Yes, Emma. We’re at Danesfield Hou
se. We’re safe.”

  But even as Vera said those words, a strange sensation came over Emma. In that moment she had a feeling she was being watched. And more than that, she had a sense that someone was noting her weakness and tucking that bit of knowledge away.

  Why would I think that? It makes no sense. But Emma didn’t have time to think it through. Today her greatest worry wasn’t what someone was going to think of her. Her greatest worry was that she still had photographs to examine. Photos that could hold the missing piece. And as much as her heart ached, she couldn’t let her emotions distract her from finding the one shred of evidence that could be the turning point in the war.

  THIRTEEN

  March 9, 1943

  Will strode through the front doors of Blenheim Palace, refusing to allow the ache in his arm to bother him this frozen March day. Tension tightened in his gut, and he wondered why he’d been called to the main headquarters. Ever since he’d joined MI5 straight out of college he’d been sent messages through Claudius. The fact that this had changed worried him. He’d spent only one night in the small cottage in Henley and hadn’t even had the time to move his things to the country when a courier arrived with a message from Christopher Dirk, telling him to return to his flat in London and to await further instructions. He’d done both, and one week had slipped into two.

  The previous day he had received his instructions to travel to Blenheim Place, and now he was entering the building and pulling off his hat as he strode up to the main desk. After checking his identification, the front desk clerk waved him through. Will walked down the hall to a private office that held no name plate. The door was open, and Christopher waved him in.

  “So I hear you’ve been sent to Medmenham.” Christopher’s voice was clipped. He motioned to a chair, and Will sat.

  “Aren’t you going to ask how I’ve been doing? Inquire about the weather or my family?”

  “Your mother is ill, which is why you returned to London. Or at least that’s what I told Claudius.”

  Will nodded, but he didn’t comment. He wanted to know what this was about before the conversation continued.

  As if remembering who he was talking to and how stubborn Will could be, Christopher leaned back in his chair and sighed. Then a slow, lazy smile crept up his lips. “You’re not going to let me rush headlong into business, are you?”

  “We were roommates at university for two years, for goodness’ sake. I dragged your fuddled self up flights of stairs to our dorm room more than once. You may be all business to these chaps around here, but you’re good ol’ Chris to me—”

  “Now, wait a minute.”

  “No, you wait. Before you go demanding information, I want to know what’s really going on.”

  Christopher nodded once and pointed to the door. Will rose, shut it, and returned to his seat. Then he cast his friend a charmed smiled. “There now. Can’t we get down to business, friend to friend?”

  The dark-haired man laughed. “You never got wrapped up in all the business aspects of our work, did you, Wilhelm. You were always more into relationship and connections than business and pomp.”

  “It has gotten me far, hasn’t it? And please, just Will. Wilhelm was an innocent boy who got wrapped up in international intrigue far over his head. I’ve grown up. I’ve become British through and through. Well, unless I’m meeting with one of our special friends.” Will looked closer at his old college roommate and noticed gray at his temples. Ever since Christopher had taken a lead role in their newest espionage efforts—Double Cross, as they called it—he seemed to have aged drastically. Chris had just turned thirty, same as Will, but the stress of the war had taken its toll.

  Christopher rose and moved to the window. He lifted the shades slightly to take in the view of the grounds covered with white frost and ice. Blenheim Palace was beautiful by anyone’s standards, but it was clear that Christopher’s mind carried more burdens than a lovely view outside the window could assuage.

  He sighed and turned back to Will. “It’s believed that Claudius has been compromised. The last two agents he’s sent out have wound up dead shortly after embarking on their new assignments.”

  “Claudius? I have never met anyone so dedicated to trailing the German spies among us.” Will turned his hat over in his hand. “I find his betrayal hard to believe. Surely he couldn’t have been turned…” He let his voice trail off, remembering the intercept he carried on the night of his injury. It was a coded list of those inside M15 who’d been discovered to be working for the Germans. Because of Will’s injury, the list had never been delivered or decoded. When Will had awoken in the hospital, the list—his whole satchel—was gone. His only hope was that it had been picked up by someone who’d sought shelter in the Tube that night and cast it aside as meaningless. Even worse than losing the list was realizing there was a need for one to begin with.

  Will tapped his fingers on the chair’s armrest. “I won’t ask what other information you have about Claudius. I trust you would not pass on this information unless you believed it to be true. I am curious if you have reason to believe, as he did, that Medmenham has been targeted.”

  Christopher turned back from the window. He looked at Will, who seemed to be studying his face.

  “Yes. I…we still believe that. Messages meant for Germany have been intercepted. They still don’t realize we’ve cracked their code, you know. And we’d like to keep it that way. But we do have some…how shall I say it, concerns for RAF Medmenham.”

  The Royal Air Force base at Medmenham. Danesfield House. Will nodded, and in his mind’s eye he saw Emma’s face. Warmth filled his chest at the thought of her, of her smile. He’d been working with the Security Service since before the war, and he’d interacted with a lot of people, but no one had impacted him like she had. He’d thought about her every day since they first met. He’d also worried that while he’d been gone she’d sent a note, asking to see him as he’d asked, only to receive no reply.

  Will crossed one leg over the other and leaned forward. “So, if you still suspect it could be a target, why did you call me away? Shouldn’t I be there to keep a pulse on the place?”

  “First, I needed to talk to you. To let you know my concerns. I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if you became the third agent Claudius has ‘lost.’ Second, I wanted to put Claudius on edge. He hates nothing more than waiting. When he gets impatient he gets careless.”

  Will nodded. He thought back to the night when he’d received the intercept just before the bombing raid. It was Claudius’s lack of caution and planning that had gotten Will noticed by the constables in the first place. Will had learned his lesson, and so had Christopher. His old college flatmate didn’t believe in rushing. He believed in waiting until the proper time.

  “So where do we go from here?” Will asked.

  “I suppose we should send more reinforcements inside Danesfield House. Up the security and all that.” Christopher sat down at the desk and pulled out a pen from the top drawer as if to write a note. “I’m sure you didn’t have time to go by there, seeing as you’d only just arrived when you were called back.”

  “Actually, I drove up to it. I didn’t get in the gate, but I got close enough. It’s a busy place these days. Looked like a beehive with the clusters of white huts and all the people coming and going.”

  Christopher nodded. “That’s what I hear. I also hear Churchill’s daughter works there as one of the WAAFs, which makes security even more critical.”

  “Yes, but I think you’re going about it the wrong way by only focusing on additional security on the inside.”

  “What do you mean?” Christopher ran his fingers under his collar. He was acting nervous every time Will mentioned Danesfield House, and Will wanted to know why.

  Will spoke with measured, logical words. If he added any inflection, any emotion, Christopher would feel as if he were rushing into things, and he’d back out for sure.

  Will relaxed himself into the chair as
if he were talking about the weather and not about the security concerns of hundreds of influential Allies. “I don’t think you should add men only on the interior. I think you should be more concerned about what type of information is leaking out. Where the weak links are.”

  “Easier said than done. Danesfield House is in a village. A small community. Everyone knows everyone. It’ll be hard to not stand out on the outside too.”

  “I’m already close. Claudius has set me up well, and I have plans to get closer.” Will couldn’t help but offer a soft smile, yet at the same time he was trying to hide his fears. Was he making a wise decision? Would he put Emma in danger if it continued?

  Christopher’s eyes widened, as if a special knowing had come over him. “Oh, I see that you already have a plan.” He clicked his tongue. “My, my, you do work fast. Only in the village less than twenty-four hours. And let me guess. She’s a beauty. Blonde?”

  “Brunette actually, but not what you think. She has charm and character, but there’s something more. Something I can’t put my finger on.” Will didn’t know how to explain. He knew Emma was intelligent, but there was something else too. She was special. She’d been hurt, he could see that in her eyes, yet she also had a desire to make a difference in this war. If Will could guess, she was an important member of whatever team she was on. He wanted to get to know Emma. He also wanted to make sure she didn’t get hurt. For the first time, Will wanted to be selfish. He’d given up so much. He’d walked away from family and friends, but deep down he didn’t want to walk away from Emma.

  Yet Will also knew that if he focused only on the woman, Christopher could still deny his request. He had one more card up his sleeve.

  “Emma Hanson is a WAAF working on the inside. I checked ETO records, and she’s always been at the top of her training classes. We made acquaintance at a London bookstore and later on the train.”

  “Oh, how convenient.”