Frankly, he couldn’t imagine ever telling Dot what he really did. She was anxious enough at the thought of his being in the navy. Even prior to that, she’d been worried by all the time he spent at their grandfather’s in Spain. If she realized that their half-Spanish heritage had made him a prime recruit for the Admiralty’s intelligence-gathering operations, she may never be able to breathe normally again.

As his superior exited the room, Drake took one more moment to be grateful. For now, at least, Dot would have a bit of income to support her and a position that would make her feel a part of something. There may even be new colleagues who, with a bit of luck, might become friends.

Maybe he’d return to England next time and find her actually willing to step outside her flat without his having to use a crowbar to accomplish it.

With that happy thought buoying him, Drake slipped out of the room too and found a corner in which he could wait for his sister without being in the way of the men now filing in. Most wore the “Wavy Navy” uniform of the Royal Naval Volunteer Reserves. The pattern of interlocking rings on their sleeves put one in mind of waves, hence the nickname.

But Drake knew very well these weren’t navy men. They were professors and German experts and bankers and businessmen—anyone with a knack for finding patterns and turning them into words. These were the men making sense of all the German telegrams that were being intercepted. The decrypts from this signal intelligence—SIGINT—were passed not only up the chain of command to Jellicoe, the First Sea Lord, but also along to Thoroton in Spain. And the information Drake and his fellow agents found in the field—human intelligence, or HUMINT—was, in return, sent back here for Hall to use in conjunction with the SIGINT.

It was quite a system they’d built. Drake couldn’t begin to fathom all that went into keeping it running smoothly, but this building gave him a peek. All these chambers with their signs proclaiming them off-limits. The basement below that he knew was filled to overflowing with incoming signals, dark rooms, and storage. Hundreds of people coming and going, men who had left their normal positions to help their country.

A number of women were coming in, too, in pairs or sets. Their heads more often than not were bent together, laughter on their lips.

But he didn’t see her again. All of these women had the look of typical English lasses. Not like the dark-eyed girl at all.

He ought to have asked Hall who she was. Then he could have answered her challenge within minutes. Perhaps even found her again and greeted her by name before he left.