Set a couple of weeks after the end of 9.8 as the enquiry into Harry and his career begins, and his past is revisited. Some drama, some angst, and a bit of lighter stuff.

After the first chapter, this is likely to end up being dialogue heavy, but it's kind of necessary for the story. Imagine it on screen and it will make most sense. It may or may not be what people expect, but it's my interpretation of what could happen. The first paragraph is a quote from the end of 9.8 (the Home Secretary to Harry).

I look forward to hearing your thoughts.

"Look, Harry, I have some bad news. I'm sorry to heap it on, especially after this business with your Section Chief. But the buzzards are circling. Fake or not, Albany was a state secret, and you gave it away. There's going to be a full enquiry, and not just into this sorry affair … into you, Harry, your whole career. You're the spy they want to kick back out into the cold, I'm afraid. Now, I'll be in there batting for you, but I can't see this ending well. I'd start preparing for life after MI5. I'm truly sorry ... Good night."

Barefoot, Harry shuffled into the bathroom and leaned on the basin for a moment. Lifting his head to look in the mirror, he saw a pair of bloodshot eyes and a face rough with stubble. It was a face of defeat, and although he'd intended shaving and brushing his teeth, he was hit with a bout of indecision. Turning and heading for the door, Harry was suddenly overwhelmed with panic and went weak at the knees. He reached for the wall to steady himself, then slid to the floor trembling, raising his knees to his chest, holding his head in his hands.

It wasn't the lack of sleep over the last few days, nor the glasses of whiskey he'd consumed. It was pure anxiety. A panic attack. It was unexpected and confusing, and Harry was frightened by the intensity of emotions that washed over him, then disappeared as quickly as they'd begun. It was too much. He wasn't sure he could do this anymore, but he wasn't sure he knew how to live a life outside MI5 either.

Harry sat on the cold tiles for a few minutes, at first trying to calm down, then to motivate himself. When he was certain his legs were capable of holding him upright, he grabbed the edge of the basin, pulled himself up, and reached for his razor.

Two hours later, Harry sat in a corridor at Whitehall, dressed in an immaculate charcoal grey suit and navy Gucci tie. He had no real expectations. None except being found guilty. It was practically a foregone conclusion. What happened afterward, he had no idea. Suspension or demotion? Probably. Prison? Possibly. A slap on the wrist? Not likely.

He was surprised they hadn't already suspended him. They'd moved quickly enough to start the enquiry, and Harry knew Internal Affairs would have gone over his personnel file and case files with a fine tooth-comb. They would have prepared a list of people to be interviewed and operations to review. A long list.

The Home Secretary had referred to the situation in their regular meetings, he could hardly ignore it, but it had only been in general terms. He'd also advised Harry to avoid discussing with his team, anything even remotely related to the whole affair: You're fortunate to be allowed to carry on as it is. I don't want to give the hounds baying for your blood, any reason to ramp up their campaign. And I don't want to hear anything that will make me regret sticking up for you.

Most of the conversations with Towers started with mundane updates on standard operations, and ended with Towers reassuring Harry that he was doing what he could to see he was given a fighting chance. Apparently he'd succeeded in making sure the investigation panel didn't include Richard Dalby or any of his cronies, but there had been plenty of argy-bargy over it.

All of MI5 was aware of the enquiry. MI6 too, he was sure. And the grid was immersed in nervous activity. Having the prospect of an enquiry hanging over their heads brought an interminable level of uncertainty to bear, and the team had spent almost two weeks clouded by the knowledge that not only was Lucas dead, but Harry, their commanding officer, had acted completely out of character and surrendered a state secret. No one was telling them much of anything else, and they were loathe to try speaking to Harry about it.

Ruth felt caught between a rock and a hard place. She knew she was the reason Harry had surrendered Albany, but since Lucas' death, both of them had managed to avoid any kind of conversation about it. Dimitri and Tariq were doing their best to pretend nothing extraordinary had happened, while Beth had made several unsuccessful attempts to talk to Ruth, who refused to be drawn into any kind of discussion.

For all intents and purposes, since Lucas and Albany, Harry and the rest of Section D had, unusually, been left to carry on as per normal. Surprisingly, Alec had remained with them and was putting on a reasonable show of leadership, even acting a little like a Section Chief. Then just before lunch on Friday, Harry had received a phone call: Sir Harry? You're expected at Whitehall at nine sharp on Monday morning. You are entitled to bring legal representation should you wish to.

Harry didn't wish. He informed the team that he would be unavailable on Monday, and probably for longer, but didn't say why. They didn't ask any questions, but there was whispering, and guarded looks flew around the grid. At one point Ruth did try to talk to Harry, but he avoided her, locking himself in his office with Tariq to have him explain the maze of new IT protocols. Late in the afternoon, Harry tidied his desk and left early.

Now it was Monday morning and he sat awaiting his fate.

To be continued :)