A Matter of Honor

Adam ran behind the team manager as he headed toward the van.

“Quatre minutes,” Adam heard clearly as Bob unlocked the van and handed him the keys. He stared toward the ship. The two Americans were emerging from the ticket office.

“Deux minutes.”

Adam jumped up into the driver’s seat, looked over toward the boat, and watched Marvin and his colleague stride up the gangplank.

“Use minute.”

“Just get the van to Dunkerque and leave the keys at the British checkpoint. We’ll see you whe

n we get there.”

“Good luck,” said Adam.

“Thank you,” said Bob, and ran to the starting line to join his teammates, who were anxiously holding his bike.

“Trente secondes.”

Adam watched the gangplank being hoisted up as the starter raised his gun.

“On your marks, set …”

The ship’s foghorn belched out a droning note and the two Americans started their journey to Calais.

A second later, the gun went off as Adam put the van into second gear and headed toward Dunkerque.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

ADAM SAT IN the little dockside cafe waiting for the coach to appear. The team van had been left at the checkpoint and he was not ready to board the ship but he still needed to be sure Robin was on it. It appeared with only ten minutes to spare and Adam greeted her as she stepped off the coach.

“Just couldn’t keep away from me, could you?” said Robin.

Adam burst out laughing and threw his arms around her.

“It’s good to see you,” he said.

“I thought you were going back to England by some mysterious route—you know, spy rocket or something even more exotic.”

“I had hoped to,” said Adam, “but the Americans were sitting at the controls just as I decided to climb aboard.”

“The Americans?” she said.

“I’ll explain everything once we’re on board,” said Adam. Neither of them noticed the young agent who had trailed Robin from Berlin. He sat in a phone booth on the far side of the dock and dialed an overseas number.

“I wouldn’t have believed a word of it a week ago,” she said, “but for two things.”

“Namely?”

“First, a senior official of the Foreign Office returned Dudley Hulme’s passport to him in Amsterdam. Which reminds me to give you yours back.” She rummaged around in her bag for a few moments before taking out a dark-blue passport and handing it to him.

“And what’s the second thing?” said Adam, taking the passport gratefully.

“I had the doubtful pleasure of coming face to face with Comrade Romanov, and I have no desire to do so again.”

“I intend to meet him again,” said Adam.

“Why?” asked Robin.