With a rustle of bicycle tires on dry pavement, Arthur pulled even with Lachlan. “Jean is quiet and loves to read, and Irene had to threaten to steal her ration book to convince her to dine with us. As I said, she’s perfect for you.”
How could Arthur know the perfect sort of woman for him when Lachlan didn’t know himself? Vivacious women were bored by him, but quiet women expected him to talk.
He pedaled harder, passing ancient burial mounds. Two Arctic terns chased each other across the loch to his right, wheeling over the fishing boats and insulting each other.
Lachlan could still hear Cilla’s laughter at the antics of the seabirds. Still see the sparkle in her eyes as she teased him. Still feel the rush of synergy as they built on each other’s ideas.
If she weren’t a spy, he might enjoy her company.
But she was indeed a spy, and her endearing nature only made her more dangerous.
Yet she’d sounded genuinely concerned about the labor shortage—and thrilled that it indicated a British strength.
Lachlan cycled into the purple shadow of a cloud. What had Yardley said about the long game of Double Cross? MI5 fed the Germans a steady diet of true information to build their trust in the agent. Then later, MI5 could slip poison into the feed and deceive them.
Was Cilla using sincerity for the same purpose? To build trust in her—so she could betray them?
Lachlan huffed out a breath, which tangled in the wind. As long as he and the MI5 officers kept a close eye on her, resisted her charms, and carried their revolvers in her presence, they would be fine.
“You’re in a great hurry.” Arthur’s voice floated from far behind.
Lachlan sent him a chagrined smile over his shoulder and slowed his pace. “Sorry, mate.”
“A hurry for this?” Arthur waved ahead.
“Aye.” On a slight rise in a field stood three huts and a concrete searchlight position.
Over a hundred military sites lay scattered around the Orkney Islands—gun batteries, airfields, radio direction finding stations, and searchlights. Although the sites could communicate with the main base at Lyness, many were isolated and remote.
Taking advantage of the long summer days, Lachlan was visiting the sites in the evenings after he finished the day’s duties. His visits provided exercise, fresh air, natural beauty, and a balm to his pricked conscience.
A soldier hunched his way out from one of the huts and stretched tall, a giant of a man.
Lachlan raised a hand in greeting and hopped off his bicycle. “Good evening. I’m Lieutenant Mackenzie from the Orkneys and Shetlands Command. This is Lieutenant Goodwin.”
“Good evening, sirs!” The giant saluted. “Boys, we have company.”
Lachlan returned salutes as two other soldiers came out of the hut, straightening their brown battle dress uniforms and trailing the scent of frying fish. “Since our command oversees defense, I’m visiting the men at the various positions, making sure your needs are met.”
“Yes, sir. They are.” A baby-faced soldier pointed to a cream-colored farmhouse in the distance. “The farmer and his wife treat us like sons.”
“They brought us a lovely salmon.” The giant’s face lit up. “Do you want some? Sirs?”
“No, thank you.” As much as Lachlan loved salmon, he wouldn’t take their food. “Do you have enough supplies? Enough fuel for your generator?”
“Yes, sir.” The baby-faced soldier gestured to the searchlight. “We’re ready for inspection.”
“I hope,” the third man muttered.
“This is not an inspection, not even an official visit. I know you’re isolated, and I wanted to check on your welfare.”
“Our welfare?” The giant glanced to baby-face as if he were the leader. “Honestly, sir? We’re bored.”
“Parker ...” The third man made a face and rubbed the dark stubble on his chin.
“He asked about our welfare, Ford.” Parker waved a heavy arm at Lachlan.
“I did.” Lachlan leaned his bicycle against the hut and gazed around the flat, open land. “Are you bored because you’re isolated?”
