Though his throat was dry, he didn’t imagine the hot tea would really help it much. “I was . . .” How much to say? He was telling her the truth, yes. But discretion was surely still called for. “I was part of a team tasked with identifying and intercepting a shipment of sugar cubes tainted with anthrax. The German agent accompanying the shipment got in a lucky parting shot.”

“A lucky shot?” Faux peace abandoned, Dot leapt to her feet. “You could have been killed!”

“A fate just as likely were I a regular soldier. More likely.” He set the teacup down and swung his feet to the floor, wincing a bit in the process. “I’m far safer than most chaps I know. Eating well, living in Abuelo’s luxury while my friends are starving and dying in the trenches. If there’s guilt to be felt, Dorothea, it isn’t about being in a dangerous spot and not telling you—it’s over having it easy, all things considered. Over not being haunted by the experiences that eat up my friends—deaths on their consciences, second-guessing, wondering at—”

“Having it easy? I know the number of agents lost in the field, Drake! I type up the reports every day!” Rivaling sparks of fury and fear in her eyes, she spun away, toward the window.

“Not in Spain.” This from Margot, whose dark eyes seemed to bore into him as effectively as Jaeger’s bullet had done, though it made his pulse hammer instead of slow. “We haven’t lost any agents in Spain. Though we have gained much valuable intelligence.”

He lifted a brow. “Is that a compliment?”

“For the effectiveness of the organization, yes. Whether any of that belongs to you in particular, I cannot say without more information.” She lifted a brow in return, a smile playing at the corners of her mouth. “Though DID seems to like you well enough, so you can’t be too useless a source.”

A laugh sputtered out. And dug claws into his stomach. He pressed a hand to the spot that hurt the worst.

Margot nodded toward Dot’s back. “Your sister’s been typing up the reports from France. Different tale for our agents there, unfortunately. We’ve lost far too many, either to death or arrest.”

“I can imagine. But France is occupied territory, Dot. Spain isn’t.”

His sister drew in a deep breath and let it slowly out, but she didn’t turn back around.

Margot tapped a finger three times on the arm of her chair. She opened her mouth, closed it again, clenched her jaw. Even having met her only a few times before, Drake had a feeling that hesitation wasn’t her normal mode of operation. But after a few seconds she met his eyes again. “How long were you investigating the anthrax?”

He couldn’t think why she’d ask. But she’d have a reason. “Several weeks.”