After she’d left and the group broke off into their own side conversations, Nash gently touched Sophia’s arm.
“I would very much like to meet Sabine.”
“I’d like that too.” Her smile was as wide as it was warm. “But you’ll need to survive this first.”
Nash’s features softened. “I’ll do my best.”
“You’d better.” She took a sip of her wine. “This is a beautiful town. I could see myself retiring here.”
Not for the first time, Nash wondered what it would be like to settle down with Sophia. When they’d been dating it was always a nice daydream stifled by their careers. For the first time, it felt like it could be real.
As if reading his mind, Sophia asked, “Do you think it was all worth it? The sacrifices we made, the loneliness of the roles we’d chosen? The countless things we were forced to surrender for king and country? Did we make the right choices?”
“I used to think yes,” Nash said honestly. “I retired with every confidence I’d done the right thing, that I’d made a difference.”
“And now?”
“I don’t know. I really don’t.”
“What don’t you know?” Eva turned, joining their conversation. “I mean, there’s so much you’re completely ignorant on, but what are we talking about right now?”
Nash chuckled and filled her in.
Squashing her face, Eva groaned. “That’s bollocks and you know it.” Seeing the scepticism on Nash’s face, she added, “Don’t look at me like I’m a walking cum rag. You’ve saved countless lives, shaped the world for the better. You’ve improved the world far more than most mouth-breathing bell-ends who use words like irregardless, aksed and expresso.”
Nash snorted. “You have the most eloquent way with words.”
“Fucken A, cunt.”
“Could you be more Australian?”
“I could pull a kangaroo out of my arse?”
Sophia let loose a full-bellied laugh that lifted the entire table. “Eva, I absolutely love your take on life.”
Eva beamed. “When this is all over, we’re definitely partying hard in London.” She snuck a sideways glance in Nash’s direction. “We’ll even bring grandpa along.”
Sophia giggled. “You’d be surprised how hard this one can party, believe me.”
Seeming impressed, Eva accepted the comment without question.
“Tell me, Eva. When this is all done, will you and Bishop be going back to MI6?”
Eva blinked several times, contemplating her response. “Huh. You know, in all this time I never really thought there was any other option but returning.” She absentmindedly glanced at Bishop’s immobile legs and then turned back to Sophia. “I… I’ll need to give that one a bit of thought.” Pensiveness crossed her face like an eclipse. “Actually, a lot of thought.”
She turned to Bishop and the two leaned in close and engaged in an intimate exchange for some time. Nash had to wonder what exactly they were talking about.
At the end of the table, Nancy tapped the side of her water glass with a knife to garner everyone’s attention. “So, those who know Paul and me know we’ve been trying for a kid for some time now.”
Eva dropped her glass on the floor and her hand darted to her mouth. “Oh, my dog.”
Nancy went on, rubbing her belly as she did. “Paul and I are having a little sprog.”
The table erupted in shouts of congratulations, hugs, back slapping and handshakes. Eva was the first to scoop her bestie up and the two cry-laughed while dancing in a little circle. Bishop hobbled up and clinched both Paul and Nancy together in a fierce bear hug. Despite having just met, Sophia and Nancy embraced as old friends, rocking from side to side in mutual excitement. In was a bliss bomb in a time of high anxiety, and a most welcome one.
So that was what Paul had wanted to tell him earlier. Nash was so happy for his friends, yet at the same time, a little sad. Paul and Nancy would raise their little one in a loving environment, yet Nash had missed out on ten years of Sabine’s life. There was nothing he could do to change that now, though. He recalled his promise to Paul not to be a wayward father. He just had to survive the next forty-eight hours.
To lighten his own mood, Nash was about to ask Hawk to regale them with a story from his treasure-trove of colourful SAS yarns when his phone beeped. Glancing down at the screen, he instantly scooped it up and began reading.
Noting his change in mood, Sophia asked, “What’s going on?”
Tapping the table to get everyone’s attention, Nash said, “Sorry to interrupt.” He held his phone aloft. “Cavendish has responded. He’s acknowledged my email and wished me well. We all know what that really means.” He lowered his head. “They’ll be coming for me.”
Without another word being spoken, everyone at the table downed the remnants of their drinks and stood. Every one of them had their game faces on. They were ready. They had to be.
The devil was coming to Devil’s End.
Chapter Fourteen
“Are we a hundred per cent sure he’ll be coming in person?” Nancy asked as they gathered around the architect’s table at the centre of St. Stephen’s Abbey. It was presently being renovated and the inside had been almost completely gutted, hence the drafting table, piles of yet-to-be-erected scaffolding, welding gear, paint tins and folded drop sheets.
On the table was a map of the village, strategically covered with military markings and notes. It was essentially a battle plan, covering as many contingencies and strategies they could collectively conceive.
“Knowing him as I do,” Paul replied evenly, “he isn’t going to leave this to chance. That’s why we sent the email when we did. We knew it coincided with Cavendish’s departure from New York.” Nash noticed that Paul had stopped using the word “father”. “He has a meeting with MI6 in two days’ time and he’s a man who doesn’t want loose ends. He’ll want Nash eliminated before the meeting and, being who he is, there’s no way he’s going to leave the operation to chance. Given his own organisation lied to him about eliminating Pinchot, he’ll want to see Nash dead with his own eyes.”
“Uh, great,” Nash replied. “I think.”
“That’s why he’ll want to oversee it in person.” Paul seemed to be thinking it through as he spoke. “He’ll leave nothing to chance. He’ll be here. That’s why we need to be ready.”
