Chapter 250: The Lady in White
Lucia poured herself a cocktail, holding the glass delicately between two slender fingers. With a graceful step, she moved around the bar and leaned toward Charles, her posture poised yet subtly alluring. Raising her glass with a smile, she asked, "Colonel, does your offer to cover all expenses include this drink?"
"Of course," Charles replied smoothly.
A few officers nearby teased him, and Major Fernand patted him on the shoulder, leaning in to whisper, "You're in luck, Colonel. Plenty of men have tried to buy Lucia a drink, but you're the first to succeed!"
Charles only smiled faintly, not saying much.
The officers politely gave Charles and Lucia some space, allowing her to settle beside him. As she sat, however, Lucia noticed a wary glint in Charles's eye. His hand was resting on the revolver at his waist.
"Are you…not pleased to see me?" Lucia asked, sounding surprised.
His tone was cold. "Tell me, what is it you're after?"
Lucia looked taken aback for a moment, then laughed. "I'm not sure I understand."
"I overheard what you told Gareel earlier," Charles replied, his gaze unwavering. "You said, 'You can't refuse a rich hero.'"
Lucia chuckled, still gazing at him with a teasing glint in her blue eyes, as if sizing up her prey. "What's wrong with that?" she said playfully.
"If I hadn't met Dominique," Charles said, unfastening the strap on his holster, "I might have believed you."
Lucia's expression faltered. Charles continued, "Until then, I could understand if you were just an independent woman. I know some people don't let money interfere with love. But you openly admitted you're interested in me for my money."
Still smiling, Lucia leaned closer, a mischievous look in her eye. "Maybe love and money don't have to be mutually exclusive..."
"You look more like a spy," Charles interrupted. "Working as a bartender at an officers' club would let you gather all the intelligence you need. Dominique might have been a good target, but you couldn't choose him because your superiors had other orders. Am I wrong?"
After his encounter with Harriet, Charles had grown more suspicious of women who approached him unexpectedly. He had once thought espionage was the stuff of novels, far removed from his reality. Since then, he'd learned spies were everywhere, and it seemed Lucia could be one of them.
Charles took his revolver in hand, concealed beneath the table but aimed squarely at Lucia. "If I arrest you now and send someone to search your place, I might just find some evidence," he said, his voice cold. "And even if I don't, I won't have lost anything. Don't you agree?"
Lucia's face grew tense, a glint of panic in her eyes as she glanced around, then shook her head slightly. "You can't do that, Colonel."
"You have one minute," Charles replied, his tone steely.
He hadn't acted immediately because espionage during wartime was complex. Lucia might be a German agent, but she could also be working for the British, the Russians, or even as a spy for industrial interests.
"I…" Lucia hesitated, then spoke quietly. "I don't know how to convince you, but I don't work for any government. Actually, we're a self-organized group…"
Charles tightened his grip on the revolver, sipping his drink nonchalantly with his free hand, his voice icy. "Go on. I suggest you tell the truth."
"I'm originally from Belgium," Lucia said, a touch of admiration and sincerity flickering in her eyes as she looked at Charles. "What you did in Belgium inspired a lot of us. So, we formed a small group, hoping to make a difference in this war—and we wanted to operate under your command."
Charles raised an eyebrow. It sounded plausible enough. Indeed, Belgians might be motivated to support the Allies, and he could see why he, with his reputation in Belgium, would be an appealing leader. To some, Charles was practically the embodiment of victory.
Still, he knew not to trust this woman easily. Spies were skilled in deception, especially female spies who knew how to use charm and seduction to gain men's trust—Harriet had taught him that lesson well.
"So, let me get this straight," Charles said with a hint of sarcasm. "You've been stationed here for all this time just to wait for a chance to speak with me?"
"In a way, yes," Lucia replied with a slight nod. "But you don't come here very often. Last time, I thought I'd finally get a chance, but then Dominique ruined it."
Charles thought back; Lucia had indeed seemed to try to approach him that night, only for Dominique to arrive unexpectedly.
Charles chuckled and shook his head. "A likely story, but you've got no proof."
"How am I supposed to prove anything?" Lucia shot back, looking both frustrated and indignant. "Perhaps you should first prove we've committed a crime. We haven't done anything to harm the war effort. In fact, we've given British intelligence numerous reports."
"British intelligence?" Charles repeated, eyeing her suspiciously.
"Yes," Lucia confirmed. "Their intelligence network is far stronger than France's. We discovered a few of their operatives and, through informal channels, provided them with military intelligence."
Lucia seemed to have an idea suddenly. "You could confirm it with the British. We provided them with artillery positions in Condoz and Anloire, as well as troop deployments near Annato."
A name suddenly popped into Charles's mind—the "White Lady" network.
This group, just as Lucia described, was a civilian-run Belgian intelligence network that sought to support the Allies by providing intelligence to the British Secret Intelligence Service (MI6). During the war, they achieved remarkable feats, supplying the Allies with invaluable information. They required no funding, asking only to be recognized as fighters against the enemy rather than as spies.
Charles, half-convinced, asked, "So you wish to fight under my command? What's in it for you?"
"We ask for no compensation," Lucia answered softly. "We only wish to be acknowledged as soldiers, with the same ranks and status as enlisted men."
Charles felt a bit lightheaded. His reputation in Belgium must have left a mark—enough for the "White Lady" to seek him out instead of the British, and perhaps to form earlier than they had in history.
(End of Chapter)
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