An avocado ciabatta in hand, Ruth re-entered Thames House. She wasn't hungry, nor did she know why she had chosen avocado. She didn't feel like avocado. She didn't feel like lunch.

"Ruth."

She looked up to see Harry approaching. Nodding she pushed on, fully intent on not stopping, but suddenly there he was in front of her.

"Ruth...I -"

"Shouldn't you to be at the hotel?" she said simply.

"I'm just on the way."

"Well, good luck."

And that was it, she was past him and away.

Harry gazed after her departing figure for a moment before realizing one of the security guards was watching him. He moved on, out of the building and got into the waiting car.


"Are you eating that?"

Ruth shook her head and tossed the abandoned sandwich in Zaf's general direction.

He launched himself across the desk in a valiant attempt to catch it.

"Sorry," said Ruth.

Ros appeared, firing a withering look at Zaf

"If you've finished fielding practice, Zofira's on the move."

She leaned over to punch a key on his computer.

"Unless your lunch is more pressing, of course."

Zaf glanced at Ruth and raised his eyebrows. She couldn't help but smile, Zaf always made her smile.

Earpiece fixed in place, Ruth spoke to Adam.

"Alpha Two, confirm your status."

"In position. Target approaching."

"Alpha One?" Ros asked, watching the image of Harry who was buying a newspaper from a kiosk opposite the hotel.

"In position."

Zofira entered the field of vision of the cctv camera. She looked as attractive as she had the day before but yet she moved with a lack of confidence and an unawareness of the impression she was making on many of the men around her.

She handed her key to the concierge and moved towards the large fronted glass revolving doors. Behind her a tall familiar, blond haired figure followed. As she stepped into the space between the glass panels Adam reached out and lightly grabbed her handbag, unaware she pushed at the revolving door. A blade flashed in the sunlight and quickly and efficiently cut through the straps. Now enclosed within the door Zofira realized too late what had happened, she looked up to see a figure ducking through the adjacent swing door and out into the street beyond.

Harry, newspaper under his arm, was crossing the road as Adam emerged from the hotel walking calmly away, bag under his jacket.

Zofira burst through the doors crying out, pointing after Adam, who now began to run – straight into Harry.

Adam was sprawled across the road, Harry looked on in confusion between him and Zofira, who was rapidly approaching. As Adam scrambled to his feet, Harry reached down pulling the bag from his grasp, Adam lunged at him, Harry staggering backwards but keeping his hold on the handbag, until Adam seemingly gave up and sprinted away.

"Here we go," said Zaf intently leaning towards the screen, eyes wide.

This was the test. They all knew it. The sting was the easy part, the question was would Zofira, with all her new found looks be attracted to Harry.

With a smile he handed the bag back to Zofira who appeared to be thanking him profusely, but he was already moving away towards the hotel, glancing at his watch, brushing off her gratitude. Zofira looked down at the severed straps of her bag.

Ruth watched and waited.

"If she looks, she's interested," said Zaf.

As Harry was about to disappear inside Zofira glanced up, looking after him until he vanished from view. She remained there even when he had gone.

"Got her," smiled Ros.

Ruth turned away, removing her earpiece.


Harry didn't need to return to the grid but he wanted to.

He needed to shower and change and be ready to seduce Zofira.

But his thoughts were with Ruth.

He wanted to say something to her, though god alone actually knew what it was. He wanted to tell her that this was just a job, like every other one, like all the other operations they'd run, necessary, nothing more.

He wanted to ask her out, he had done for a while but he was filled with doubts. It was a strange experience for him, a man who knew his own mind; who made decisions every minute of every day; who could read the thoughts of people as well as any man and better than most. He thought she cared for him, he thought he'd seen it in her face often enough, but then he would see her care and consideration for the rest of the team and wonder if he was no different; she cared for them all, like family.

He didn't want to be like family. He wanted her to want him, to feel the same thrill, the same heat he felt when he was close to her.

But to take that step. To risk saying something. To reveal his feelings. How difficult that would be if he was wrong.

They worked together. She worked for him. He had a responsibility. And so he had said nothing.

When he arrived at Thames House he was none the wiser about what he should say, or if he should say anything. He just knew he wanted to be somewhere near her.


Ruth watched him return to his office and she watched him during their briefing. She told herself that she should, in fact, be watchful not of him but of her own reactions; she didn't want the others to notice when she was staring at him but stare at him, she did.

There was just something about him, something she felt constantly drawn to and that just made the whole thing more …. tantalizing.

She wondered if that was what was so attractive, the sheer unattainability of it all: the secrecy and the possibility; but not the reality.

If he did want her and he made a move, what would she do? Run a mile? Say yes, say no?

No, she concluded, it was just a fantasy that she had lost herself in and let her feelings run away with her.


"Ruth." Harry called her into his office.

She slid the door shut feeling that familiar frisson.

He stood up from behind his desk and leant against it facing her.

"Ruth, I…"

"Is your legend fixed?" she asked.

"Yes," he replied, thrown a little both by the question and by how very blue her eyes looked.

"You want me to test it with you?"

"Oh…why not?"

He realized he had been distracted yet again in his attempt to say something but let's face it, he didn't know where to start anyway.

"You are?"

"James Fellows. 55. Business director of an international travel firm."

"Married?"

"Divorced."

"Amicably?" she asked.

"Surprisingly, yes. We had no children and so that made things easier, besides which she has her own money."

"Oh, you married a rich woman?" she smiled.

"I married a moderately wealthy woman who invested well."

"Do you still see ….?" prompted Ruth.

"Margaret," Harry replied, unphased, "On occasions, but we've been been apart for over three years now and so things have moved on."

"And other women?"

"What about them?" Harry countered.

"I presume you are you seeing other women, an attractive businessman like yourself?"

Harry's lip twitched a little, "Attractive?" he queried.

Ruth hoped to hell she wasn't blushing.

"Well, I'm sure Zofira would think so."

"I'm sure I don't know why," he said, eyebrows raised, smiling as he turned away.

"I do."

She had said it so quietly she thought he had not heard.

He turned back to her, his eyes searching and hot. He had heard.

"She likes older men," she continued quickly, "and you're just her type."

"Right," Harry sounded disappointed.

"And how long are you staying in London?"

"Four days, for a series of business meetings and then I fly to Paris and on to Rome to our other offices."

"You must have an exciting life, James."

"It has its moments," he replied, "but sometimes it's lonely… I get lonely." His face was more serious now as he gazed at her. "They're beautiful cities but they're nothing if you have no-one to share them with."

Ruth looked at him. Was this the legend, or was this for her and her alone?

"I'm sure Zofira will be more than eager to ease your lonliness." she said, before turning to the door.

"Ruth..." he called her back. His eyes were soft and warm and sad.

"Your legend sounds fine to me, Harry."

"Thanks," he said quietly.

The door slid shut.