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

to Bern and arrange it with him personally. You can’t change the process without doing it in person. That is one of my safeguards, and I really must insist that you follow it as well.”

“Do I need to set this all up in person, then?” Evelyn asked, surprised. “I have to go to Switzerland to do this?”

“Yes.”

“Why can’t I just tell you and you make the arrangements?”

“Absolutely not.” Vladimir sat down beside her again. “It’s imperative that no one know the location or details but you.”

“Even you?”

“Especially me.” His lips twisted and he looked at her with a half-smile. “Should any suspicion fall on me or on the hotel, my country will be relentless in discovering your identity. We are very good at extracting information, and I would not trust your safety to my ability to withstand continuous interrogation.”

Evelyn swallowed, her mouth suddenly dry. “Oh. I see.”

He reached out and covered her gloved hands with one of his own. “We are each other’s shield, Jian, and our own sword.”

She looked at him in surprise. “You know what a jian is?”

“Yes. I own two in my personal collection. I picked them up in Beijing around the same time you were in Hong Kong.” He smiled. “I think it is a fitting codename for you. Your father would have appreciated it.”

“Yes. I think he would.” She sighed and looked down at his hand covering hers. “We are each other’s shield, and our own sword. I enjoy that very much. Les boucliers.”

“Yes.” He tightened his hand briefly on hers, then stood up. “However, I do think I shall use my own codename for you moving forward. I’ll leave Jian to your countrymen.”

Evelyn looked at him, surprised once again. “You have a codename for me?”

“Yes, of course.” He looked amused again. “I call you Lotus. Now that we’ll be communicating directly, it’s necessary. You may continue to use Shustov for me.”

“Very well.”

“We are in agreement, then. You will go to Bern and arrange everything with Monsieur Moreau. Philip Moreau. He is the night manager there.”

“A Frenchman?”

“Swiss, my dear Elena. Do not make the mistake of accusing him of being French.”

Evelyn laughed and stood, looking up at him. “Elena?” she repeated. “Why do you call me that?”

“That is what you would be called in my country.”

She tilted her head consideringly. “Elena. It sounds better when you say it.”

He chuckled and tucked her hand through his arm, leading her out of the chapel. “When you’ve perfected your accent, it will sound just as well from you.”

“I haven’t had opportunity to practice, I’m afraid. Perhaps we should begin conducting these meetings in Russian.”

“Ah, but then I wouldn’t have the opportunity to practice my English.”

“Your English is impeccable, as I’ve no doubt you’re aware.” Evelyn paused and looked up at him. “How many languages do you speak?”

“Not nearly as many as you, and probably not as well.”

“That’s hardly an answer.”

“Perhaps the next time we meet, I’ll tell you. Now, however, we’ve been here too long.” He released her arm and looked into her face, his smile fading. “You must leave Brussels immediately. It will not be safe for much longer.”

“Why do you say that?”

“You know why, Elena. Herr Hitler will be coming, and you don’t want a repeat of Norway, do you?”

“No.”

“Then you will leave today. Have a safe journey, and remember everything I told you.”

“I will.”

Evelyn watched as he turned to stride up the center aisle of the nave towards the doors at the back. His back was straight and he carried himself with the bearing of a military man. As she watched him go, she suddenly felt very alone. With a frown, she turned to walk towards the side door where she had entered an hour before. Before she had reached the door, a question formed in her mind and she stopped, her lips parted on a soft gasp.

Why did he want her to leave today? What, exactly, did he know about the German plans for a Western offensive?

She spun around, but the nave was empty. Vladimir had already disappeared.

Chapter Twelve

Evelyn lifted the suitcase onto the bed and undid the straps, her lips pressed together thoughtfully. The walk from the church back to her hotel had given her time to think. Perhaps too much time. What did Vladimir know about the pending German invasion? Did he know anything? Or was he just being overly cautious given her experience in Norway? Evelyn shook her head as she flipped open her case. She wasn’t quite sure how she felt about Vladimir now. While they’d been sitting in the chapel, he had seemed for all the world like a father figure. In fact, if she didn’t know better, she would wonder if he was trying to train her in some way. But that, of course, was absurd. He was a Soviet agent and Soviet agents did not train British agents. And yet, he was definitely trying to help her. But why?

Evelyn shook her head and turned to get her toiletries from the dressing table. Perhaps she was being too suspicious. The man had been a friend of her fathers, and he wanted to continue working directly with her. It was only natural that he would be concerned with her continued safety. After all, if anything happened to her, he’d made it very clear that he would stop all communication with MI6. Presumably that was something he didn’t want to see happen, just as they didn’t.

She had gone to the church with no clear idea of what would happen or what would be said between them. She certainly wasn’t expecting to be given pointers on how to do her job successfully. Not that she wasn’t grateful. In fact, Evelyn was beginning to wonder what exactly MI6 had been thinking with their bare bones training program. What Vladimir had said made perfect sense, and yet she had never been warned of the dangers of revisiting prior places of contact by any of her instructors, or by Bill himself. Was that how Eisenjager