This is War✔

Twenty-Six

A week later Tom was up and around, though he was still trying to do everything one-handed. Daisy helped him with little things here and there. At breakfast one morning, Hancock walked into the dining room, a look of disbelief on his face.

   "Sir, there's a large mail plane out on the airstrip. It just landed there."

   Tom looked at him with a look of puzzlement on his face. "Are you quite sure, Hancock?"

   "Absolutely, sir."

   Tom rose immediately and briskly left the room, the rest of the group at the table following him. They tramped out of the house and down the hill on which Milton sat. Sure enough, a large mail plane was sitting on the airstrip, a tall man with graying hair and hawklike eyes descending from the steps.

   He surveyed the small group of people seemingly searching it for someone in particular. When he didn't recognize anyone, he asked, "Which of you is Group Captain Thomas Brooks? That is, if he's still alive."

   Tom gave a start at this ominous pronouncement and stepped forward. "I'm GC Brooks, sir." He extended his hand toward the man and he shook it.

   "Very good. It's a pleasure to meet you, Brooks. I'm here on important business. May we speak in private?"

   Tom nodded and gestured up the hill. "This way, sir."

   The pair made their way up the hill and into the drawing room that had hosted the engagement party of only a week before. Tom closed the doors and turned to face the unknown visitor.

   "Who are you?" Tom asked rather bluntly. He dropped all pretense of respect away from prying eyes.

   "My name is Ronnie Winston, I'm a Whitehall operative."

   "I see. What might you be here about?" Tom wasn't in the mood for official business. "What do you need from me? I'm sick of playing you people's games."

   Winston leaned forward and said gently, "I understand, I do. But this is very important."

   "What could possibly be so important right now? We just lost two more of our men."

   Winston hung his head for a brief moment and sighed. Then he said in a grave whisper, "The very thing that killed them, Brooks. The April Mission." Tom froze, his breath catching in his chest.

   He looked at the visitor dead in the eyes. "What about it?" His voice came out in a whisper as well.

   "Tom...it was never supposed to happen. A man who was a Whitehall operative has been arrested. His name is Guy Cranston. Does that name ring any bells?

"

   "Cranston. James Cranston. He was killed in our mission in November. Good fellow."

   "Very good, you made a connection."

   "I'm sorry, but I don't really see your point."

   "Well then, I'll make it." Winston stood up and began to pace the room rapidly.

   "Guy Cranston is James Cranston's older brother. He set up the whole mission, even assigning your son here, as a way to get back at you for his brother's death. He wanted to kill you and your son."

   Tom shook his head. "That's all very well and good, but why would he set it up only to not assign my son to the mission?"

   "What? Your son isn't one of the pilots who was killed? Andrew Brooks?"

   "No. Henri Toulouse, a brilliant Frenchman, and my niece's fiancé, Declan O'Connor, were killed. My son is very much alive." Thank God.

   "I see. Brooks, that man set the whole thing up. There is plenty of evidence, he even confessed. I have no explanation for you there." He cleared his throat and stopped pacing. "Whitehall will be reassigning all of your pilots to different locations. This special operation has clearly failed."

   "Yes, it has. Where will I go?"

   "Nowhere, for the moment. You will remain here until such a time as your injury heals up," he said eyeing Tom's bandaged hand. "Then we have a mission for you."

   "Yes, sir," he said retaining some of his usual respect.

   "I will remain here for the next four days and then be returning to London with....well, with your son. It was supposed to be Declan O'Connor, but I suppose that's changed."

   "Alright. I'll have Daisy show you to a spare room."

   "Thank you. I'll go find her myself." Winston left the room.

   Tom sat down, thinking for a moment. Who could have changed the names on the letter besides Guy Cranston? Then, it hit him. Who had been alone with that letter if just for a few minutes?

   He jumped up and ran frantically from the room. A moment later, he arrived at his brother's office and opened the heavy doors. "Tony? Tony?!"

   His brother sat at his desk and looked at Tom, wide-eyed and jumpy. "Tom, what is it?" He voice was quiet and hoarse, without his usual strength.

   Tom observed his brother for a moment then sighed. He was pale and he looked like he had lost a lot of weight. "What did you do!?" He could barely contain his rage.

   "I'm sure I don't know what you're--" his voice faltered and failed.

   "Why did you change his name?! Answer me, Tony! Andrew was supposed to be on the list!"

   "Because...I couldn't lose my d-daughter. I couldn't let her marry that boy. He would have taken her away from me. Then what would I have had left?"

   "How could you?! You were too afraid to face a life without her so you killed the man she loved?! How could you?"

   "You don't understand. I did this for you too."

   "Really? Because everything about this seems utterly self-serving! Tony, I have to tell Daisy." Tom turned around to leave but heard a click. He stopped.

   "Now Thomas, I have a gun pointed to your head. You are not leaving this room. I can't let you tell her, I just can't."