The Iron Storm by CW Browning (classic literature books TXT) 📕

you can come along with Miles sometimes.” She grinned. “Perhaps not every time, but certainly once in a while.”

He laughed and got behind the wheel, closing the door. “I promise.” He started the engine and looked up at her through the open window. “Take care of yourself, Evie.”

“You too.”

Chapter Three

Broadway Street, London

April 30

Evelyn paid the cabbie and climbed out of the back of the taxi, glancing up at the drab, nondescript building before her. As many times as she’d been here, it never failed to make her inwardly cringe. A small brass plaque next to the door read Minimax Fire Extinguisher Company, but there was no such firm within the building. Instead, the shabby exterior concealed the entire might of the British Secret Intelligence Service, or MI6. Of all the locations in London, this was not the one she would have picked to be the hub of England’s intelligence. Yet she had to admit that its close proximity to the St James Park Underground across the street did make it very accessible when taxis were scarce.

She went up to the door and pulled it open, glancing over her shoulder as she did so. The taxi had already pulled away and was moving down the street, and none of the people hurrying along the sidewalk were paying her any attention at all. In a glance, she took in the scene before stepping into the building and closing out the London morning. Looking over her shoulder was becoming second-nature, even here at home. Evelyn wasn’t sure how she felt about that fact.

The young man behind the desk looked up as she entered and nodded in greeting, recognizing her. He didn’t speak, but returned his attention to the book in front of him. He had no work to do, as such. His sole purpose was to monitor every person who came into the building, and to provide the appearance of a receptionist to those who were not MI6 employees. He looked innocent enough in his plain suit, but Evelyn knew that he was fully capable of forcibly removing anyone from the premises at will.

Walking past the front desk, she headed to a door in the back, glancing at her watch as she went. She was a little early, but she didn’t suppose that would make a difference to Bill. If she knew him, he was already in his office working, regardless of what time he arrived back from France yesterday. She shook her head as she opened the door and went through, moving down a long, narrow corridor with doors leading off either side. She really didn’t know how Marguerite, his wife, dealt with it. When the war came, it brought with it long hours and even longer absences. Still, she supposed it was same for everyone. If she was married to Miles, she wouldn’t see him for weeks at a time. At least Marguerite had her husband overnight.

The thought of Miles brought a smile to Evelyn’s lips as her heels clicked along the tiled floor towards the stairs at the end. He had surprised her yesterday with a telephone call. Robbie had told him she was home for a few days, and he called to arrange to meet her for dinner. They were meeting tonight at The Savoy, and she really couldn’t wait to see him. The need to hear his voice and see his sparkling green eyes had been almost overwhelming since she boarded the HMS Cardiff at Namsos to return home. After her ordeal in Norway, the one thing that she knew would give her strength was Miles. She didn’t question why, but just accepted it for what it was. He had become a rock for her, something to remember and hold on to when everything seemed hopeless.

Strange, really. They hadn’t known each other very long at all, but she felt as if he’d been there all her life. When Robbie asked her if she was fond of him, it was all Evelyn could do not to laugh. Fond was a wholly inadequate word to describe her feelings for the pilot who had strode into her life unexpectedly last fall.

Evelyn climbed the stairs, her hand on the railing, and reluctantly turned her mind to the reason for her visit. Bill had another assignment for her, that much was obvious. Her time to recuperate was coming to an end, and she would have to go back out there again. It was time for her to get back to work. While the rest had been welcome, and had done her a world of good, Evelyn had been conscious of a growing feeling of restlessness. Perhaps a quick jaunt into France was just the thing to get her started again.

“Good morning,” she greeted the guard at the top of the stairs, pulling out her identification card. “How are you?”

“I’m just fine, miss.” The guard examined her identification and nodded, handing it back to her. “Thank you.”

He stepped aside to allow her to pass and she smiled, tucking her card back into her clutch purse. A moment later, she was knocking on a door halfway down the hallway.

“Come in!” Bill called.

Evelyn opened the door and stepped into the office, smiling across the room at the man rising behind his desk.

“Good morning!” she said cheerfully, closing the door. “I’m a little early, but I knew you’d be here.”

“Lord yes. Been here since about eight.” William Buckley came around the desk and moved towards her, his hand outstretched. “You’re looking much better, Evie. How are you?”

“Very well, thank you.” Evelyn grasped his hand briefly and smiled at him. “How was Paris?”

“Very busy,” he said, motioning her to a chair before the desk. “I did manage to get to the theatre one night, but otherwise it was a very rushed trip. How is your mother?”

“She’s well. She and Aunt Agatha are keeping busy. They’re knitting sweaters for the soldiers right now.” She sank down gracefully into a chair and set her purse beside her before beginning to