"We were great together," I said. "They didn't stand a chance against the two of us." I had to smile when I said it.

We'd been sent with an advance party to Cairo, to prepare for a visit by President Roosevelt, Prime Minister Churchill, and a boatload of bigwigs who were going to stop off on their way to Tehran to chew the fat with Stalin. As part of her liaison duties, Diana had checked with various British intelligence services, including the SOE HQ for the Mediterranean Theater. They'd gotten wind of a German agent in contact with a group of Egyptian Army officers who weren't too happy about the Brits running their country. As I was of Irish extraction myself, I could see their point. The English had a way of mistaking other people's countries for their own backyard, and the people who lived there for servants or slaves. It was one of the things that made Diana and me such an odd pair. Her father had been knighted at some point, and she was definitely upper crust. Me, I was from the South End. Boston Irish. We were a bad mix.

Diana stood behind me and began rubbing my neck.

"It was exciting," she said.

"And dangerous," I said. I tried to sound adamant but it was hard with Diana's hands working on the tense muscles in my shoulders.

"I didn't want to spoil this trip," she said, finally answering my question. "I was going to tell you before we left. How did you find out?"

"Kay mentioned it. She seemed to think I already knew."

"I'm sorry, Billy."

"I don't want you to go."

"I am going."

"Why?" I shook off her hands and stood to face her. "Why you? Why volunteer?"