And it was in no small part her own fault. Bringing women into F Section had been her idea in the first place. Eleanor had recruited those girls, overseen their training and personally deployed them to Occupied Europe. And she had seen that there were problems, yet failed to insist that more be done. No, she alone was responsible for those who went missing and would never return.
“There are men missing, too,” he pointed out.
“Yes, of course.” Eleanor swatted at the argument she had heard a dozen times. “But the men have commissions. And they are to be treated as POWs if captured.” It was not that she didn’t care about the men. But they had army titles, ranks—and the protections of the Geneva Convention. The government would look for them. Remember them. Not her girls.
“I have to go see for myself what went wrong on the ground.”
“You mean to find the girls? I’m afraid that is quite impossible.”
“But, sir, a dozen are still missing,” she protested. “We can’t simply give up.”
He lowered his voice. “Eleanor, you must stop asking about the girls. There will be repercussions for yourself and for others. You have much to lose right now. And if not for yourself, you have to let it go for the families of the girls. You know as well as I do that if the Germans have caught them, they are likely gone. Your questions will only bring their families more pain.”
The Director picked up his pipe. “The investigation is classified, and being handled at the highest levels.” That, Eleanor knew, was a lie. If anyone at all was looking for the girls, they would have come and spoken to her. No, the matter had been shelved at the highest levels. “There is simply no need for you to know,” he added, before she could call him on it.
“No need?” Her voice was incredulous. They were her girls. She had recruited them, sent them over. “So you’re ordering me to stop looking for them?” she asked with disbelief.
“It’s more than that. The women’s unit has ended. Your position has been eliminated.”
“I’m being transferred then? Where am I to go?”
He looked away, not meeting her eyes. “I’m afraid we’ve been ordered to downsize.” He spoke stiffly now, as if reading words from a document he had not himself written. “We are grateful for your service, but I regret to inform you that your tenure at SOE has ended.”
She stared at him blankly. “Surely this is a mistake.” She had been with SOE for months—no, years—before the women’s unit was founded. They could not be getting rid of her now.
“We have no choice. You’ve been given thirty minutes to gather your personal belongings.” She searched for words, found none. Her insides burned white-hot with anger. She stood and fled his office, starting back down the stairs to Norgeby House.
Eleanor went to her desk and started stacking files, pulling the photos of the girls who were missing and slipping them into her bag. She knew she did not have much time. A moment later, the Director appeared in the doorway. “I’ll see you out,” he said. She reached for another file, but he stilled her hand. “Leave everything as it is.” She understood then why he had followed her. “You’re to take your personal belongings only. No papers,” he added, seeming to know before she did herself that she would not stop looking for the girls. A plan began to form in her mind.
“I can manage myself. You don’t have to stay,” she offered, hoping to buy a few minutes alone here to gather what she needed.
“We have orders to see you out,” he said, awkwardness creeping into his voice. She stopped with surprise, her hand hovering midair. In just moments, her whole world had been turned upside down. She searched his face, looking for answers, or at least some sign of the mentor she thought she knew. But his eyes were blank.
She turned away blindly. “I have to organize the files.” The thought of turning over her papers in less than perfect order was unthinkable.
“It isn’t necessary,” he added. “The military will be coming and packing everything up.”
“Why?” she demanded. “Where are they taking it?”
He did not answer. She noticed then a military police officer standing at the door of her office, waiting to escort her out and make sure she left. Something inside her hardened. She was being cast out like a foreign invader from the very place she