Back Cometh the Hour Save as PDF
Chapters (71)
  1. Title Page
  2. Copyright Notice
  3. Dedication
  4. Acknowledgments
  5. Family Tree
  6. Prologue
  7. Harry and Emma Clifton: 1970–1971
  8. Chapter 1
  9. Chapter 2
  10. Chapter 3
  11. Chapter 4
  12. Chapter 5
  13. Chapter 6
  14. Chapter 7
  15. Giles Barrington: 1971
  16. Chapter 8
  17. Chapter 9
  18. Chapter 10
  19. Chapter 11
  20. Lady Virginia Fenwick: 1971
  21. Chapter 12
  22. Chapter 13
  23. Chapter 14
  24. Sebastian Clifton: 1971
  25. Chapter 15
  26. Chapter 16
  27. Chapter 17
  28. Chapter 18
  29. Chapter 19
  30. Chapter 20
  31. Chapter 21
  32. Lady Virginia Fenwick: 1972
  33. Chapter 22
  34. Chapter 23
  35. Chapter 24
  36. Maisie Clifton: 1972
  37. Chapter 25
  38. Emma Clifton: 1972–1975
  39. Chapter 26
  40. Chapter 27
  41. Chapter 28
  42. Sebastian Clifton: 1975
  43. Chapter 29
  44. Chapter 30
  45. Chapter 31
  46. Chapter 32
  47. Hakim Bishara: 1975
  48. Chapter 33
  49. Chapter 34
  50. Chapter 35
  51. Chapter 36
  52. Chapter 37
  53. Chapter 38
  54. Giles Barrington: 1976–1977
  55. Chapter 39
  56. Chapter 40
  57. Chapter 41
  58. Chapter 42
  59. Chapter 43
  60. Chapter 44
  61. Chapter 45
  62. Chapter 46
  63. Harry and Emma Clifton: 1978
  64. Chapter 47
  65. Chapter 48
  66. Chapter 49
  67. Chapter 50
  68. Epilogue: 1978
  69. About the Author
  70. Also by Jeffrey Archer
  71. Newsletter Sign-up

“Time for us to talk about more serious matters,” he said, placing a finger to his lips. He went out to the hallway and removed his heavy overcoat from a peg by the door. Karin thought about making a run for it, but if she did, and all he was going to tell her was that he was returning to Moscow, her cover would be blown. He helped her on with her coat and accompanied her outside.

Karin was taken by surprise when he gripped her arm firmly and almost marched her down the deserted street. Usually she linked her arm in his so that any passing stranger would assume they were father and daughter out for a walk, but not today. She decided that if they came across anyone, even the old colonel, she would stop and talk to him, because she knew Pengelly wouldn’t dare risk their cover being blown if there was a witness present.

Pengelly continued his jovial banter. This was so out of character Karin became even more apprehensive, her eyes darting warily in every direction, but no one appeared to be taking a constitutional on that bleak, gray day.

Once they reached the edge of the woods, Pengelly looked around, as he always did, to see if anyone was following them. If there was, they would retrace their steps and head back to the cottage. But not this afternoon.

Although it was barely four o’clock, the light was already beginning to fade and it was becoming darker by the minute. He gripped her arm more firmly as they stepped off the road and onto the path that led into the woods. His voice changed to match the cold night air.

“I know you’ll be pleased to hear, Karin”—he never called her Karin—“that I’ve been promoted and will soon be returning to Moscow.”

“Congratulations, comrade. Well deserved.”

He didn’t loosen his grip. “So this will be our last meeting,” he continued. Could she possibly hope that … “But Marshal Koshevoi has entrusted me with one final assignment.” Pengelly didn’t elaborate, almost as if he wanted her to take her time thinking about it. As they walked deeper into the woods, it was becoming so dark that Karin could hardly see a yard in front of her. Pengelly, however, seemed to know exactly where he was going, as if every pace had been rehearsed.

“The head of countersurveillance,” he said calmly, “has finally uncovered the traitor in our ranks, the person who has for years been betraying the motherland. I have been chosen to carry out the appropriate retribution.”