Page 7 of The Bachelor Spy
Beneath the waves, the murky ocean offered its own sort of confusion as Blake fought his way through disorienting bubbles and a barrage of debris to the surface, his wounded shoulder protesting every stroke.
But the surface introduced new chaos.
More debris everywhere. Cries of various sorts. Bodies—some moving, some not. Overturned lifeboats. People clinging to anything that floated. And theLusitaniaherself, her massive bulk towering above them all, as her stern rose almost perpendicular to the water.
Using his good arm and kicking hard despite the cold seeping into his bones, Blake swam away from the ship and from the suction she’d create when she went down.
A large piece of wood floated past, and he grabbed it. A … door? It wouldn’t support his full weight, but it would help keep him afloat.
Around him, hundreds of people fought for survival.
Some called for help.
Others swam.
A few had already gone still and quiet.
A child cried nearby, and he instantly swam toward the sound, but a lifeboat reached the boy first.Thank God.
He kept swimming, putting distance between himself and the dying ship, as quickly as the cold water and his wound would allow.
And then, with a wail that shattered through the cries around him, theLusitania‘s stern lifted completely out of the water, shaking the last people clinging to its railing down to the ocean like raindrops. The colossal propellers hung suspended in the air for one impossible, unforgettable moment.
His breath held in anticipation.
Then the Greyhound of the Seas, as she was popularly known, quaked, expelled a massive gasp, and slid beneath the waves.
A charged silence followed and then … the pull.
Blake swam against it, clinging to the door. Gratefully, the suction wasn’t as bad as he’d feared, or perhaps he’d gotten far enough away. But the wave that followed rolled over him, pulling him under and sending him into a spin. For several terrifying seconds, he couldn’t tell which way was up.
His shoulder screamed. His lungs burned. The cold was everywhere, tugging him toward surrender.
But he wouldnot. He could not!
He didn’t know if Evie had survived. Didn’t know if Evan had made it off the ship or drowned with his blasted secrets. But one thing was certain: Blake couldn’t fail!
He kicked hard, following the bubbles, and broke the surface sputtering for air.
TheLusitaniawas gone. Entirely.
Where moments ago a ship larger than most buildings had floated, there remained only a quiet sea and debris and bodies—living, dead, and dying.
The horizon looked eerily empty.
And even though Blake was a strong swimmer—better than most with his training—the cold was already affecting him. His limbs were going numb. His wounded shoulder was barely functioning.
But he had no choice. He had to make it to shore. This war was already the bloodiest conflict in modern history. Trenches stretched across Europe, and poison gas and machine guns were turning men into statistics.
And if he didn’t get this intelligence to Director Lark—if the Midnight Angel continued feeding information to Germany, if Montgomery connected her with other traitors in British intelligence—it would be bloodier still.
Blake had survived theLusitaniafor a reason.
He just had to stay alive long enough to make it matter.
Chapter 1
SEPTEMBER1915
