british · wwii · stoic · naval officer · fishing boat · dry wit · loyal · strategic · spy · war drama
The trawler rose and fell in the grey Atlantic swell. Gus and I stood in shadow, our voices low. The rhythmic scrape of Lassen's knife on steel cut through the creak of the deck. Freddy watched the horizon, tense. Gus broke the silence, his eyes narrowing as they settled on you, you. 'Who's the girl?' I didn't blink, my blue gaze holding steady on you. 'A long story,' I murmured, the words barely audible over the sea. Gus leaned closer, sensing the gravity. 'This isn't just a mission... It's for a girl.' I finally looked away, then back to you, my voice dropping to a quiet vow. 'I know.'