The Iron Storm by CW Browning (best fiction novels to read .txt) 📗

box and rifled through the collection of papers and passports inside. He selected a Swiss identity, then a Belgian one. After checking to ensure they were both in order, he pulled out a codebook and a stack of cash before closing and locking the box once more. He returned it to the drawer and carried both the gun and the paperwork back to the bed, placing them in the hidden compartment in the suitcase.

Namsos was in the past now. It was done and over. He’d find the British agent again, one day, and then she wouldn’t escape as easily. Until then, he had another target. He was leaving tonight for Austria, and then on to Switzerland, where he would change identities before making his way to Belgium. There, he would begin building his immaculate record yet again.

His lips tightened once again as he placed the false bottom back in the suitcase, concealing the weapon and paperwork.

And then he would continue his hunt for the ghost who had attacked him in that alley.

Chapter One

Lancashire, England

April 27, 1940

The gunshot echoed across the meadow, startling a group of rooks out of their chattering cluster high in a tree. They launched into the sky in a panic, swarming around in a black cloud before disappearing over the horizon, heading away from the noise.

“Well done!” The groom grinned in approval. “You haven’t lost your eye, miss.”

“I should hope not, Barnes. My father would turn in his grave if I did.”

The groom chuckled fondly. “That he would, miss. Very proud of your shooting, Mr. Ainsworth was. He used to say that there was no better shot in the county.”

Evelyn Ainsworth swung the shotgun up to her shoulder and nodded to the stable hand standing some distance into the meadow. He fired a stone disc into the air and she followed it with the gun for a second before squeezing the trigger. The disc blew apart high in the air.

“He only said that when my brother wasn’t within hearing,” she said with a laugh, lowering her gun. “I’m no better than Robbie.”

“Master Robbie certainly has his moments,” Barnes acknowledged, “but you’re more consistent, miss. Always have been.”

Evelyn reloaded and lifted the gun again, nodding to the boy. A moment later, another shot rang out, and another disc shattered in mid-air. She’d been home for two days now and this was the first chance she’d had to steal away from her mother and Auntie Agatha. The morning was crisp, and the fresh air was better than anything the London doctor had prescribed for her. After spending five days in London being molly-coddled by a nurse, she’d finally been cleared to go home for a few days before returning to Northolt, and to work.

The ordeal in Norway had taken more out of her than she’d thought. Evelyn freely admitted that now as she lined up the next clay target before squeezing the trigger. While she had protested being forced to rest for five days, she acknowledged now that it had been desperately needed. Not just for her body, which had been strained with the flight across the mountains of Norway, but also for her soul. Or what was left of it.

Evelyn lowered the shotgun to reload again. The nightmares were beginning to lessen now, but the hollow ache was still there. She suspected that it would never leave. How could it, when she had been directly responsible for Peder’s death? It was something she would carry with her forever. That, and the memory of walking away from Anna and Erik, leaving them for to the safety of her own home while they were stuck there, fighting for theirs.

She raised the gun again and motioned to launch another target. Bill had told her repeatedly that she had done all she could, and she could do more to help them from here than she could from inside Norway. Evelyn knew he was right, that every scrap of intelligence that she could gather and bring back would get them one step closer to defeating the Nazis. But it didn’t make her feel any better when she considered that Anna may well already be dead. Despite Erik’s promise to get Peder’s radio fixed and contact MI6 with news, they’d had no word out of Norway since she arrived back. She had no way of knowing if they were even still alive.

Evelyn’s eyes narrowed and she squeezed the trigger. This was the war she had signed up to fight. It was one fought in the shadows, where the only certainty was that she would be unlikely to live long enough to see the end of it. And that was the fate Anna and Erik had accepted as well. She had known this from the beginning, since that day Bill had proposed that she come work with him at MI6. It was hardly a new development, but after Norway it was suddenly very, very real.

The clay target blew apart, but instead of clay shards, Evelyn saw a nameless German SS soldier with a hole in his chest sliding down a tree, illuminated by the dancing lights of a dozen flashlights. Swallowing, she blinked and refocused on the second target before squeezing the trigger again. She’d killed a man. Probably more than one. Her father had liked to say that she was the best shot in the county, had bragged about it to his friends. Little did he know that that skill would end up saving her life, and costing others theirs.

The disc shattered and she lowered her gun. Her breath was coming quickly and she felt hot and cold at the same time as she forced away the memories she couldn’t control. Taking a deep breath, Evelyn reached in her pocket for more shells.

She would get over this. She would become comfortable with a gun in her hands again, and she would conquer these feelings of panic and horror - even if it took weeks of shooting. She had to.

Jian had to go back into