“Got any food, mister?” the boy asked hopefully.
Nathan glanced up. Brown curly hair and brown eyes flashed through the halls of painful memory. A stab of pity went through him. “I wish I did.”
“Got any money, mister?” the boy asked, even more hopefully.
Nathan’s hand went instinctively to the euros in his pocket. There weren’t very many of them.
“Got a good reason to use it?” he asked.
“Well, it’s that or pinch something. Wolf doesn’t mind pinching.”
“I thought you were finally able to say no when you needed to.”
“I said no to you.”
“I’m not the person you should be saying no to.”
If you were alive, mother, your worry would be a terrible weight to bear. I hope Heaven has no window to earth tonight.
Evesham shook his head. “Absolutely confidential. Webster is preparing to drop behind enemy lines for the 1919 offensive. I want that identity protected.”
“But the war won’t last that long, will it?”
Evesham’s face looked a bit strained in the bright morning sunshine. “The Americans continue to stall and France is fraying at the edges. We barely have enough manpower when the weather turns.”
“Don’t waste what you have, then,” Jaeryn said dryly.
Then the door opened.
The chat continued. The quiet thunk of glasses carried on. Jaeryn looked up and locked eyes with Fenton crossing the threshold of the bar room. He glanced down at his watch. The hands pointed to eight precisely. His face froze into rigid lines as Fenton wove through the tables and took a seat across from him.
You’re sending him to get killed.
I never promised you safety in this job. Just better ethics.
Please want to grow old with me.
Dark pressed in.
If we lose the notebook, we will lose everything.
The shoulders under the deep red dress stiffened. She turned around, revealing the same brunette curls and crimson lips he had remembered. He flexed his fingers, and something cold teased at the center of his chest. Cold and hurting and very much unforgotten.
“I don’t like the idea of a kid being mixed up in this business.” Terry brought his boots down to the floor with a bang and pushed his chair back. “Child leaders and angels make for a strange business if you ask me.”
He got out and let her slip past him, a lithe little figure in the slim-waisted dress. Gina looked back. “Good night, you old scoundrel.” She laughed over her shoulder and ran up the steps.
Vital delivery interception. 12am. Fatal methods forbidden.