Dash didn’t move. Her fist was jammed so hard against her mouth she could barely breathe, and still she feared she might be heard. The Germans’ boot heels crossed the room to the open window and returned a moment later. Evidently they had seen nothing of interest below. One of them grunted, and Dash pictured him throwing Ruby over his shoulder like a rucksack. Then they were gone.
Ruby.
For two full minutes, Dash stood in place, not moving a muscle.
“Someone will come,” she whispered at last, sinking onto the cot. It smelled of mould and old sawdust, further clouding the whirlwind in her mind. “Someone will come for me.”
She had to think clearly. That’s what Dot would say. Think logically and an answer will come. Dash slowed her breathing, and she remembered Gordon had left before the Germans had arrived. Had he been able to send a message to headquarters in time, or had the Germans been waiting for him?
Did anyone know she was in here?
She lay down on the cot, still clutching the letter, aware that her armwas hot and pulsing again. She closed her eyes, cheering herself with the thought that this letter, whoever it was from, had come from home.
“Can you hear me, Dot?” she whispered across the world. It felt a little silly, but sometimes they’d sensed each other as children. If only she could go back to that simple time.
“If you can hear me, Dot, I need you.”
In the morning, the fever was back. Her eyes burned when she opened them, and her arm was on fire. Seeing a hint of light, she sat up slowly, the letter still curled in her hand from the night before. She carefully opened the envelope.
Dear Dash,
She burst into tears. Had her sister heard her plea the night before? Because here she was, Dash’s light in the darkness.
Dear Dash,
I miss you more than you’ll ever understand. I feel lost, not hearing your voice, even if you were yelling at me. I know I am to blame for all that has come between us, and I understand your anger. I am afraid you hate me, and that is the worst pain of all.
I stopped writing before because I knew you didn’t want to hear from me, but I can’t hold back any longer. Please, Dash. Even if you never forgive me, at least tell me in your own words.
I have said a thousand times that I would have been with you if I could, and I know that you believe me, deep down. Please let me be with you again, Dash. I love you so much.
Your sister forever,
Dot
fifty-nineDOT— Camp X —
Dot set her elbows on the table and pressed Hydra’s headphones against her head, holding herself upright. She was nearing the end of her shift, and her right hand was worn out from all the messages she’d sent and received. Part of the plan for Operation Overlord was to keep the misinformation going even after the invasion; they wanted the Germans to believe more attacks were imminent so they wouldn’t send reinforcements to Normandy. It was up to Dot and the others to convince the Germans that June 6 had been a minor battle compared to what was coming. There was a lot to put out on the airwaves and even more to take in.
It had been six days since Pete had first contacted her. Since then, Dot had heard nothing from or about Gus. Where was he? Where was Dash?
After her shift, she stepped into the chilly evening and walked to the main building. She had been summoned to Gerald’s office, which she thought was odd, since she reported to him every day. When she entered, Gerald was sitting behind his desk, squinting through cigar smoke. He did not invite her to sit down as he always did. Ill at ease now, she stood tall as she’d been taught back at HMCS Conestoga: chin up, heels together at a forty-five-degree angle, thumbs lined against her seams, eyes front.
“Correct me if I’m wrong, Dot, but I thought you understood thatCamp X was not your own private playground, to be used for personal missions.”
She should have known he’d find out. It was practically impossible to lie successfully to a spy.
“You are not wrong, sir.”
“And yet that is exactly what you did.”
“Yes, sir.”
He puffed on his cigar, and she knew he was weighing his options.
“Please don’t have me arrested, sir. Or shot.”
“I could.”
