The 9 by Madalyn Morgan (tools of titans ebook .txt) 📕

‘All right.’ Freda stood up and dropped the magazine on the seat. ‘I’m going to the lavatory. Won’t be a minute.’

Ena looked at her wristwatch. Fifteen minutes and they’d be in the station, another two and they’d be at the Park. Although she had been there lots of times, Ena still had the collywobbles until her work had been verified and passed as perfect by Commander Dalton’s engineers.

Ena relaxed back in her seat and thought about Henry telling her that he loved her and smiled. It was sweet of him, but… Good Lord! She shook her head. She meant Ben – she thought about Ben telling her he loved her, not Henry. It wasn’t the first time Ena had thought about Henry Green recently. She’d been thinking about him while getting ready for bed during the week. She put it down to having spent time with her sister Bess, who had walked out with Henry before he went to work at Bletchley Park. An association, not of words, but of people, Ena told herself. She blew out her cheeks and put both Henry Green and Ben Johnson out of her mind.

She looked at her watch again. Freda was taking her time. Getting up, Ena stretched and crossed to the door. She reached out to slide the door open and froze. The man who had drugged her, who had stolen her work, was walking past the compartment. She turned her back on the door and gasped for breath. She only saw him for a second, from the side, but she remembered his profile clearly. She remembered everything about him.

He hadn’t seen her. He hadn’t looked into the compartment. Ena turned round and faced the door, half expecting him to be there, but he had gone. Not daring to leave the work, but needing to warn Freda, Ena grabbed the suitcase’s handle. Her heart was thudding. She left her handbag and gas mask and returned to the door. Without making a sound, she slid the door open and poked out her head. The man was standing in the corridor with his back to her, smoking a cigarette. She ducked back into the compartment and waited a couple of minutes. When she looked again, he was opening a door at the end of the corridor.

As the man disappeared into his compartment, Ena saw Freda walking towards her from the direction of the lavatory. She beckoned Freda to hurry. Freda smiled and lifted her hand as if to wave, but before she had time, the man who Ena recognised as her attacker came out of his compartment and bumped into Freda. Ena took a step back and, peering round the door, saw Freda move to her left. The man moved to his right at the same time, blocking Freda’s way. They both laughed. Then the man said something, which Ena couldn’t hear, and Freda shook her head, as if to say it was all right. The man bowed, returned to his compartment, and Freda walked on.

Ena exhaled with relief. She was about to go to Freda, tell her who the man was, when she saw him again. He was directly behind Freda, his face a scowl. Freda didn’t realise and kept walking. Ena opened her mouth to shout a warning, but she was too late. The man grabbed Freda from behind, putting his hand over her mouth. Ena watched her friend struggling, trying to fight the man off, but he was pulling her backwards, dragging her into his compartment.

Carrying the suitcase, Ena made her way along the corridor to the compartment where the spy, for that was what Commander Dalton had called him, had taken Freda. Craning her neck, her back as flat as she could make it against the nearside wall of the corridor, Ena looked through the window. The blinds were drawn, but not fully. Crouching, she could see the man’s back. He had pushed Freda up against the window. He had his arm around her neck and was talking into her face.

‘Freda?’ Ena shouted, sliding the door open with such force it crashed home, rattling the glass in the windows.

The man spun round, loosening his grip on Freda. She wriggled free. He lunged at Ena. ‘Be careful!’ Freda shouted, and put out her foot. The man tripped and Ena swung the case as high as she was able. It connected with his chin and he staggered backwards. As he fell, he caught his head on the brass ashtray attached to the window ledge and his head jerked.

Near hysterics, Ena watched his eyelashes flutter and his eyes roll back in their sockets. He let out a horrible rasping breath, closed his eyes, and slumped sideways, hitting his head again, this time on the floor. ‘Oh my God!’ Ena screamed, ‘What have I done?’

‘You’ve saved my life, Ena, that’s what you have done.’

‘Why isn’t he moving, Freda?’ Ena’s friend bent down and felt the man’s wrist for a pulse. She shook her head. ‘No!’ Ena screamed, again. ‘Please don’t say I’ve killed him. Please God, no!’

‘We’ve got to get out of here,’ Freda said, stepping over the man’s body. Staring at him, still gripping the case of work, Ena shook uncontrollably. ‘Ena, we’ve got to go. Now!’ Freda shouted, taking Ena by the shoulders. ‘Come on. Don’t look at him,’ she said, steering Ena out of the compartment.

In shock, but still clutching the case, Ena allowed Freda to push her along the corridor to their compartment. Inside, Freda took the case from her, put it by the window, and forced Ena to sit down. ‘Stay here and don’t move. Ena, are you listening?’ Ena looked up in shock and nodded. ‘I’ll be back in a minute.’

‘No! You can’t go. Please don’t leave me, Freda.’

‘I won’t be long. I’m going to check he’s all right, and have a quick