Spoilers for all of s9, especially 9.8.
I wrote this not long after s9 ended, and it's been sitting on my computer since then. Not sure whether it was a good idea or not, but ... it's the last scene between Harry and Lucas with my idea of what they might have been thinking. Probably more questions than answers, but potentially a little insight. That was what I was attempting anyway. Just to be clear, their thoughts are italicised. I hope they flow, and are true to character.
The dialogue belongs to the writers of Spooks, and I think it's some of their best. The rest is inspired by the outstanding acting of Peter Firth and Richard Armitage.
In the shadows, Lucas stood and watched as Harry climbed the ladder. He watched as Harry walked toward the other side of the roof, glancing about. He watched as Harry waited.
You and me, Harry. You and me. You think you know me, but you don't. Nobody does. I've done things … so have you. It's time for a reckoning.
In the glare of the sun, Harry waited for Lucas to show himself. He looked around, out across the city. He waited, the wind blowing, and he knew it wouldn't be long.
Come on, Lucas. Are you looking for revenge or redemption? … Whichever it is, if this is it, let's get it over with.
Harry heard a swift movement, and the click of a gun being cocked. He hesitated briefly, before turning slowly, cautiously. And finally, they were facing each other. The barrel of the gun was pointed directly at Harry, looming. It's my turn.
"Why here?" Harry asked, genuinely curious.
"Someone I used to know lived here, Harry. Long time ago." A very long time. Before everything went wrong. "Lucas North." He watched Harry swallow. "And besides, I wanted us to be alone for this." Just you and me.
"This, being my death?" It really is the end of the line.
"Maya didn't need to die." What was the point? He said, shaking his head. "You could have stopped it." You could have stopped it! Why didn't you?
"Yes, I could have." Harry nodded almost imperceptibly. But what then? Would it have made any difference? You're off the rails and I still have to do my job.
"So why didn't you?"
"Regnum defende, Lucas, whatever the cost." Lucas just stared at him. "I'm sorry she died, but I'd do the same again." I would. Albany for Ruth. All of it.
Lucas stepped closer, the gun moving nearer to Harry's face. What am I supposed to do now? "I loved her. All this was for her." Everything was for her.
"Some of the worst things are done in the name of love. I understand that too don't forget." You know I do.
"Feel it!" Lucas raised his hand in a short, sharp movement, and slammed the gun across Harry's head. You bastard! Don't just understand it. Feel it too.
Harry let out a low cry as he reached for his eye, his head spinning. He felt it. You have no idea how much I feel it. He pulled his hand away, gazing at the blood, half-astonished, then at his watch. There's still time. "It's been almost three minutes. No one else need die, except me." Surely something can be salvaged from this mess?
"The bomb's not real, Harry." Lucas almost smirked as the realisation dawned on Harry's face. "But hey, did its job." I fooled you. The great Harry Pearce. "It brought you here. Now we're the same." How the mighty have fallen. You're no better than anyone else, Harry. I just knew what button to push.
Bloody hell. He played me. Harry grimaced.
"You gave me Albany, I gave it to the Chinese, now you're a traitor too." We're not so different.
I know what I've done. And why.The cut above Harry's eye was stinging, and he squinted in an effort to dispel the pain and the blood. Focus. Come on. "You didn't give them anything." He shook his head gently, feeling lightheaded. "Albany doesn't work. It never did."
"What?" No … no. You didn't?
"The project never got past the primary research stage. The Russians got wind of it. They realised its potential. They were scared." Harry watched understanding take hold of Lucas. I'm sorry, but I had to. "It worked as a deterrent, but it was never real, Lucas."
"So it was for nothing … " Lucas' voice rose, high-pitched in anguish. What have I done? "She … she died for nothing?" It was never real? I trusted you!
"What happened in Dakar? The bomb?" I don't understand. "If you knew what you were doing, how could you do it?" Why?
Harry felt his grip on Lucas, any connection with him, was slipping away. Talk to me, Lucas. Help me understand.
Lucas could barely look Harry in the eyes. I was a nobody, going nowhere. I just wanted to make a difference. Then … then, I had a chance to change my life.
"Vaughn ... gave me the chance to be someone. To do something."
"Wish you'd met me first." I really wish you had, Lucas.
Lucas dropped the gun to his side. "So do I." So do I.
"I can still help you, Lucas. Whatever you've done, the Service owes you." There will be something ... a deal. I'll sort something.
"I can't go back to prison, Harry." His voice broke, his face crumpling. Not again. Never again. He took a step back, raising the gun at Harry. "I'll die there, you know I will … And you'll sit in your office and drink whiskey, and feel sorry for yourself. And you'll tell people what you told me once … " On the brink of tears, Lucas struggled to maintain his composure. This bloody job. "This job, what we do, it's a machine. Good people go in, they get chewed up, they get spat out. That's how you make sense of it." Lucas spat out the words too. It does, it ruins people. But I was already a failure. "The service didn't do this to me. I was ... bad before I went in." I was useless then, and I'm useless now.
A look of dismay flashed across Harry's face. He believes it. He really believes it.
They stared at each other, Lucas with trembling hands. "Turn around, please." No more, Harry.
"Lucas." Please don't.
"Don't call me that. TURN AROUND!" I can't do this any more.
"Well what should I call you?" Harry raised his voice, slightly hoarse, but turned obediently. "Who are you? Are you John the murderer? Or Lucas? The man who gave up so many years, to help so many people. Saved so many lives." This is your chance. Don't let it destroy you. Show me the real you. Please.
Lucas dropped the gun to his side. Who am I?
Harry asked again. "Who are you?"
"I'm nothing." I'm not John, and I'm not Lucas. I don't know who I am ... I'm nobody. He stepped backwards, silently. I'm … nobody.
Harry breathed deeply, resigned. "If you're going to shoot me, shoot me now." This is it. "Shoot me now." I'm sorry, Ruth. I'm so sorry.
There was a scream from the street below, and Harry jerked his head around, filling with disbelief and horror, as he found himself alone. No, Lucas! What have you done? He moved quickly to peer over the edge of the roof. What have you done?
The ear-piercing shriek of a car alarm was reverberating off the buildings.
Thanks for reading.