Duchess

Chapter 6

     "Mrs. Tallmadge? It's alright; it was just a dream. Are you okay?"
I groggily opened my eyes to find Captain Davis turned back in his seat towards me, a look of concern on his face. The moon in the night sky gave everything in the plane an eerie glow.
"What's going on?"
"You were crying out in your sleep, Ma'am. I've been trying to wake you for a few minutes; we are making our approach into London now. Apparently, there are doctors waiting to take you the moment we land, and then you will be right on your way to New York City."
     Looking down, my shaking hands were covered in my own blood and the bag with all my belongings that my feet was sitting in a small puddle of it as well.
     I couldn't remember the nightmare, but I had a feeling the pain I felt in it was quite real.
     "How long will I have to stay here in England, Captain?" I mumbled, groaning as I shifted in my seat.
     "I don't know; I suppose that is up to you, m'lady."
     I laughed a little and added, "You don't have to treat me as though I were royalty, Captain. Duchess is just my codename, I assure you."
     "You still outrank me, Ma'am. And I admire what you do more than you know. Everyone wishes they could have the job you have, but not many know just how hard it is. Spying is an ugly business, Mrs. Tallmadge, but you wear it well. Besides, you saved my life back there with that Luftwaffe plane."
     The lights of the runway could be seen below us, and he gently guided us towards it with expert skill.
     "Thank you, sir," I said weakly, "That means a lot."
I was in and out of consciousness as Captain Davis landed the plane and soldiers and medical teams converged on us like birds, but I kept Benjamin's leather jacket clutched to my chest.
"Mrs. Tallmadge," Davis said as he ran beside the stretcher I was being brought in on, "I'll be here when you wake up, alright? Can I do anything to-"
     "Yes," I interrupted breathlessly, "Contact the OSS. Let them know I'm alright."
     He nodded and followed me as far as they would allow into the operating room, standing outside in the waiting area while they rolled the stretcher into the brightly-lit room.
     "How long have you had this wound?" the doctor asked as he cut away my clothes and a mask was put over my nose.
     "Four days. This one," I tried to point to my neck, "I got yesterday." I was asleep before I could hear his response.

     Pain raced through my spine and I cried out, trying to open my eyes and get my bearings, to no avail. I could feel a bandage on my stomach, but my neck just felt numb and achy.
"Mrs. Tallmadge, it's alright. Just open your eyes slowly. You're in London at St. Bartholomew's Hospital."
A young nurse stood above me, a small smile on her face as she tipped a glass of water to my lips. I was in a long hospital hallway divided by curtains, the sound of miserable patients echoing through the room.
"I need to get home. Will I be able to get back to America soon?"
"An American Air Force plane is scheduled to pick you up this very evening, Ma'am. Is that satisfactory?"
I nodded with a grimace and managed, "Wonderful. Thank you. What is your name?"
"Edith," she said sheepishly, obviously not used to her war-torn patients asking such things.
     "That's a beautiful name," I said weakly, "Do you know what they did to my injuries? I can't quite feel them."
     She nodded and another patient behind a curtain wailed in agony, pleading with someone desperately. "Twenty-six stitches in your side and thirty-one on your neck."
     I gasped.
     "It doesn't look that bad, ma'am, and it will heal in no time. My fiancé once had to have forty in his leg and you can barely see the scar now, doll." After a short pause, she asked, "Have you a sweetheart waiting at home?"
Smiling, I nodded a little and answered, "I do, actually. I miss my husband terribly; it has been ten months since I've seen him. He's a hunk of heartbreak if I've ever seen one."
     She gave me a sideways glance and a small grin at my colloquial adoration of him. "Is he a spy as well?"
     I looked up at her in panic. Nobody was supposed to know that I worked in intelligence; I was simply an injured American Air Force pilot with an aircraft transport mission that had gone awry.
     "Don't worry," she laughed, "Nobody knows but me. Your secret is safe."
     "But why do you think-"
     "Forgive me, Mrs. Tallmadge, but most pilots don't get knife and pistol wounds in an airplane. And while you were asleep, you were mumbling in German. I don't know many Americans that dream in German unless they've been living there for a while. And your last name is Tallmadge, for heaven's sakes! Your husband must be Major General Benjamin Tallmadge, yes?"
     I was stunned. "Please don't tell anyone who I am; I can't risk it."
She smiled and pulled the blanket up around me, whispering, "I won't. Now sleep; you have seven hours until your plane comes to pick you up and take you back to that 'hunk of heartbreak' Major General Tallmadge."

I awoke again to the sounds of miserable soldiers all around me, with thin, white curtains the only thing separating us.
Edith was sitting in the corner with a little book in her lap and she looked up eagerly as I stirred.
"You're awake, Mrs. Tallmadge! I'm so glad; I thought I was going to have to wake you up myself when the plane arrives. No disrespect, ma'am, but I wouldn't want to be the one to wake you up from a nightmare."
I laughed. "I quite understand." Benjamin's leather jacket was draped over me and there was a crude pen and ink drawing of an American flag tucked under my hand.
"Who did this?" I asked with a wry smile, pulling it open and examining it.
"All of the nurses helped me get the blood out of the jacket, and one of the soldiers overheard us talking about you. He asked if he could have a sheet of paper, and said to thank you for your service. Apparently his late wife was American as well."
     I blinked back tears and gently slipped the picture into the pocket of Benjamin's coat.
     "If you see him," I said softly, "thank him for me. It means so much to me- the kindness of you all. I won't soon forget it, Edith."
Before long, I was taken to the London military airport to meet the plane that was to bring me back home.
Clutching my bag in one hand and holding my aching side with the other, I limped out of the expensive car surrounded by soldiers and high-ranking officials.
Although my identity was supposed to be a secret, it didn't seem like they were hiding the fact that I was an American with an important reason for being in London. I just hoped I wasn't endangering anyone.
Soon, the plane had arrived- a B-17 bomber that had first stopped in the British Isles to deliver supplies for the Royal military. It was big and strong looking, not at all what I had expected for my nonstop flight back to the States. The name Miss Irish was painted in green letters on the side, and I wondered if I even wanted to know the story behind the name.
Two American pilots stepped out from the cockpit, wearing wool-lined coats to fight against the freezing temperatures in the unpressurized cabin.
"Mrs. Tallmadge?" one of them said quietly to me, holding out his hand for me to shake, "It is an honor to finally meet you. I'm 1st Lieutenant Robert Fairfax and this is 2nd Lieutenant Joe Gibbons."
     My eyes widened a little but I maintained a straight face. 1st Lieutenant Rob Fairfax was also an officer of the OSS, and he was my correspondence contact while I was undercover in Munich.
     "It's wonderful to meet you both. Do you two work together often?"
     The question was aimed towards Fairfax, and I was trying to find out if Lieutenant Gibbons knew about our secret identities and the real reason I was in England.
     "Oh, not too much," Fairfax said, slapping his friend on the back and offering his arm out to me, "Gibbons, will you get Miss Irish ready for our trip? I'm going to show Mrs. Tallmadge where she'll be for the entirety of the ride."
     He jogged away and Fairfax led me to the ladder into the Flying Fortress slowly.
     I turned to look up at him and smiled. "Agent Rivington, hmm? Why'd they send another intel officer for an Air Force transport mission? Not that I'm unhappy to see you, but this seems a little out of your pay grade."
     He chuckled and said, "I'm flattered, Dutch. Your Major General Tallmadge wanted me to make sure you got home safely, and I'll be heading back out to France immediately after dropping you in Jersey."
     "How much does Ben know about my condition?"
Fairfax looked at me sideways. "If you don't mind my asking, what is your condition? All we know is that you received an injury but are doing just fine. He sounded like he didn't believe those reports when I spoke to him on the telephone earlier."
I bit my lip as he helped me into one of the seats and mumbled, "It's nothing to be worried about. Stabbed in the stomach and a bullet right through my neck," I pulled back the collar Benjamin's leather jacket to reveal the bandages, "and I think I broke a few ribs jumping out of a train but they're healing fine on their own."
He looked astonished, and started to laugh before he realized that I was serious.
"Benny-boy is going to have a heart attack, Dutch. You know how much he fears for you after what happened in '41."
I rolled my eyes. "Everyone keeps bringing this up like I'm in danger of forgetting, Robert. I survived that, I survived this...I'll survive whatever else this accursed war will bring. Just like everyone else. I'm not the only one in this war who has experienced something scary. "
"I know. Just keep yourself safe for our sakes, if nothing else. I'll be in the cockpit if you need anything."
     "Thanks. And Robert?"
"M'lady?" He tipped his helmet.
"What else did Ben say when you spoke with him on the telephone?"
Lieutenant Fairfax looked down sheepishly and chuckled a little. "That he hoped you'll bring his leather jacket with you; he feels naked without it."