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“Gentlemen, Vice Admiral Cunningham!” someone shouted. The room quickly came to attention as a tall, balding man entered the room. Seeing Eric, he quickly extended his hand.

“Leftenant Eric Cobb, it is my pleasure to make your acquaintance,” Cunningham said, his accent holding a slight trace of his Scottish origins.

“Thank you, sir,” Eric said.

“I am glad that Vice Admiral Fletcher finally sent you over,” Cunningham said, gesturing for his aide. The man pulled out an envelope, and Eric was surprised to see that it was affixed with an official wax seal. His astonishment turned to awe as he realized that the seal was not just any one, but the actual royal seal of Her Majesty, Queen Elizabeth. There were a couple of gasps behind him as others made the same recognition.

“Now I can finally tell Admiral Tovey to stop sending me dispatches regarding mail not addressed to me,” Vice Admiral Cunningham said with a smile. There was a wave of laughs around the small compartment.

“I am always glad to reduce message traffic,” Eric stated with a slight smile. “Although I am not sure what Her Majesty’s return address is.”

“Well, seems that there’s an ill-mannered gentleman occupying her regular residence,” Cunningham replied with a wry smile, reaching inside his jacket. “However, I am certain if you send it to our embassy in Washington it will get to her.”

“Thank you, sir,” Eric replied with a slight neck bow. Cunningham was about to reply when there was the sound of running feet and a male voice asking for individuals to make way. Moments later, a young Royal Navy officer stood in front of the British flag officer.

“Sir, message from Admiral Tovey,” the ensign said, face red from running downstairs. Vice Admiral Cunningham took the message flimsy, his expression indicating it had better be an important one. Peering at it, his face paled. The British admiral looked up at the ensign, then down at the flimsy, and read it again.

“Who else has seen the particulars of this message?”

“Only the communications desk, sir,” the ensign replied. “And the captain.”

“Immediately repeat this message to all Commonwealth vessels, captains’ eyes only,” Vice Admiral Cunningham said. “Tell them to inform their crews of its contents within the half hour after they have had time to digest it. Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir,” the ensign replied, then repeated the particulars of what Vice Admiral Cunningham had ordered. Cunningham waved the officer away, then visibly gathered himself before turning to the assembled group.

What in the hell has happened? Eric wondered, feeling butterflies in his stomach.

“Gentlemen,” the admiral began, “I have grave news. An assassination attempt was made on Her Majesty this morning in New York City. Early reports are that the assassins were Americans. They missed her, but that Prime Minister Churchill and Admiral Pound are both at a local hospital in grave condition.”

Eric was suddenly breathless, a shock like a block of ice in his stomach. He took a couple steps backwards as there were several murmurs and curses in the wardroom.

Who would try to kill the Queen? Why would they attempt to kill the Queen in New York of all places?

“Lieutenant Cobb, are you all right?” Martin asked, placing his hand on Eric’s shoulder.

“I will be,” Eric said, his voice cracking. He turned to the wardroom.

“I am so sorry,” he said, tears welling in his eyes. “I am so sorry for my countrymen.”

Martin put his hand on Eric’s shoulder.

“It’s all right lad,” the man replied, swallowing. “There are more than enough of you out here with us right now.”

Haynes Residence

1200 Local (1500 Eastern)

Tacoma, Washington

29 July

“Adam Haynes, will you turn that radio off and grab me some potato salad, please?” Norah Hedglin asked from the kitchen door. The redhead stood in a blue polkadot dress with her hair up in a bun, dark blue earrings that matched her eyes completing the ensemble.

When a smart, beautiful woman asks you to turn off the radio, she’s really saying that it’s not doing any good to sit here and grow progressively more angry at something you can’t control, Adam thought, turning the appliance off. He reached into the refrigerator and pulled out the large bowl of potato, then grabbed a wooden spoon to serve it with. The sound of the rain lashing against the large bay window that opened to his backyard made him smile ruefully.

So much for one last picnic. Or the rainy season allegedly taking a break in July.

There was a peal of thunder, and the rain intensified.

But at least it’s not Florida, or we’d all be sweating to death inside this place. As it was, the mild Northwest summer was even cooler than they’d expected, which made the inside of the house quite pleasant.

Norah walked up behind Adam as he sat the potato salad on the table, wrapping her arms him from behind. She ran her hand down the front of his pants, causing him to jump in shock.

“See, took your mind off things for about a half second,” she said, exhaling as she brought her arms back up and hugged him.

“You’re a little bit of a minx, you know that?” Adam said, turning around to embrace her.

“Only with you,” Norah replied, looking him in the eyes. “You make me feel safe enough to be one.”

Adam was about to respond when the doorbell rang.

“That would probably be the Cobbs,” he said. “I imagine both of them, if previous experiences hold.” Reluctantly, Adam let her go and headed for the door.

“You’re always so jealous of them,” Norah observed. “They’re twins. It’s not surprising they often seem to be of like mind and action.”

Yeah, that doesn’t change the fact it’s downright creepy sometimes. But it’s a big part of the reason I’ve let them stay in the same flight rather than make them each take one. One didn’t break up a winning team just on a whim.

Opening the door, he was surprised to find only David and a woman he assumed to be Sadie Cobb. As Norah had requested, all of