The Time In Between (Sira Quiroga, #1)

by María Dueñas

When Da Silva found out what it was about, he flew into a rage, fired him, and began to take measures.” “And how do you know all this?” “Because Gamboa came looking for me this afternoon. His nerves are in shreds, he’s terribly afraid and looking for someone to protect him, which is why he thought he might feel safer approaching the English, with whom he used to have excellent relations. Even

Disloyalty in exchange for disloyalty—that’s the way things worked.

On the back seat, invisible but so close, we were joined by a third passenger in the car: suspicion.

“Well, I’m sorry to disillusion you, but no, I’m afraid he isn’t a new SOE agent just recruited for this war. The information has come to us through one of our men in the SIS, our—as it were—‘conventional’ intelligence service. And we haven’t the slightest doubt about its veracity: this is an absolutely reliable agent with years of experience. An ‘old hand,’ as you Spaniards would say.”

The man who had just reentered my life in such an overwhelming way was undoubtedly an experienced spy for His Majesty’s intelligence services, but on this shady matter of tungsten, on this particular round, I had just beaten him.

This information was going to set alarm bells ringing, it was going to shatter alliances and reconfigure the direction of hundreds of operations. And with it, I got the sense that the naval attaché’s attitude had been radically altered, too. He’d seen a new image of me: his most reckless recruit, the inexperienced seamstress, who showed some promise but who was still untested, had been transformed overnight into someone capable of resolving delicate

For the first time in a long while, perhaps for the first time in my life, I felt proud of myself.

it was time now to demand some enlightenment. Time for me to take up the reins of my own existence, to choose my own path, to decide how and with whom I was to follow it.

“We got word of the existence of Rosalinda Fox, a compatriot of ours who was in a relationship with the high commissioner: a precious jewel to us, the best possible opportunity. But approaching her directly was too risky: she was so valuable to us that we couldn’t risk losing her with an operation that had been clumsily planned. We had to wait for just the right moment. So when we learned that she was looking for someone to help evacuate the mother of a friend of hers, the machinery was set in motion.

Outwitting traps, overcoming risks and setbacks. Without any plans, in the shadows; that was how we’d have to live. Combining willingness and daring. With integrity, courage, and the realization that we were fighting for a common cause.

Our destinies might have gone in any direction, as we succeeded in remaining unnoticed, forever on the reverse side of history, crisscrossed by stitches, invisible lives from the time in between.