Prosper (War Shadows: Book 1) SAMPLE

i-i. Before the Storm

ACT I: Behind Enemy Lines

"Do your duty as you see it, and damn the consequences"

-General George S. Patton

The war may have begun in 1939 for the rest of the world, but for Evelyn McIntyre, the war didn't begin until that cold, clear night in 1943. And, in all honesty, she wasn't ready for it.

She'd been feeling unprepared since the beginning of that week, when she was told she was going to be deployed for France to help take down the Germans from the inside. She'd gone through two years of training for the SOE, learning the art of sabotage, to blend in and to disappear amongst civilians, and yet, she didn't feel prepared; she just felt terrified. She'd known for two years that she would have to leave her friends and family behind for a mission they couldn't know about, but now that the time had finally come... she just wasn't ready for it. That was why, the night before she was to leave for France, she found herself sitting outside her barracks with her blanket wrapped around her, staring at the star-filled sky.

They'd greeted her like old friends when she first stepped outside that night, after writing letters to her parents in Yorkshire and to Will in Scotland, where he was still going through basic training. When she was younger, her father would take her outside on clear, summer nights to show her all the stars and constellations he'd learned from his years in the navy. He would tell her the stories behind each of them as he helped her find them. He would tell her the story of gallant Perseus, of beautiful Andromeda, of brave Heracles; ever since those nights all those years ago, she'd always venture out there when she was nervous or scared about something, and that night was no exception.

However, they couldn't seem to comfort her that night; her fear of dying in France seemed to be too potent, even for them. As she sat there, Evelyn kept reminding herself that her fate wasn't sealed - after all, an agent that had been stationed in France had just come back that morning, safe and sound - but no matter how much she tried, she just couldn't shake the feeling that this night would be her last in Britain, and not just for the next year.

"Can't sleep?" Evelyn looked to the side to see the carefree Gene Rosenburg standing there, his hands shoved in his pockets.

She wrapped her blanket tighter around herself as she looked down at her bare feet. Even after all these years, it smelled like Papa's cigars.

"I'm too nervous to sleep," she said quietly.

Gene sat down next to her, pulled out his cigarettes and a lighter, and lit up. In the dim light from the lighter, she could see that he now had a black eye, and his knuckles were bloody and swollen.

"What happened to you?" Evelyn asked.

"I got into a fight at the pub," he said with a shrug, as if it wasn't that big of a deal. "There was a pilot in there with enough cock to call me a dirty Jew after he bumped into me and spilled his own drink all over himself. Damned fool." He held his pack out to her. "Want one?"

"No, thank you," she said. He shrugged and shoved them, along with his lighter, back into his pocket.

"How much trouble did you get into?" Evelyn asked.

"For the most part, I just got a lecture about how I need to save the fighting for the Jerries and how I'm letting them win by getting into fights with my comrades," Gene said as he waved his cigarette around with one hand, drawing lines of pale, wispy smoke in the air, and making air quotations with his other. "They even threatened to hold a court martial for assaulting an officer, since the pilot happened to be a captain. That'll be a lot of fun, holding a court martial on a plane bound for France."