Adam paced across the room, glancing periodically at the clock on the wall as he waited for the arrival of O'Dowd.
"You'll wear a hole in the carpet," Ros told him flatly, without bothering to look up from the book she was reading.
Adam didn't break pace but gestured at the room they were in. "They think that this is a secure place to keep O'Dowd for a few days? Are they crazy?"
"Well I think we both know the answer to that one." Ros marked the corner of the page, before smartly closing the book and placing it down on the arm of the chair. With Adam's impatient presence in the room, there was very little chance of being able to concentrate further.
She looked casually around at the blandly decorated room they were sitting in. There was nothing anywhere that spoke of character. Everything was done with the minimum of detail; even the paintings on the wall were in neutral colours. It was an estate agent's idea of an ideal show home; nothing to jar the eyes of a potential buyer, but a room completely devoid of any sort of human touch.
"Well at least there's going to be nothing here to upset him," she remarked.
"But it's not exactly the most secure building in the country," Adam tried to push the point home.
Ros had to acknowledge that Adam had a point. "We'll just have to hope that the decoy transport attracts all the attention. Then no-one should be looking in our direction at all."
"Hmmm," Adam's non-committal reply told Ros all she needed to know about her colleague's view of the situation.
"The worst that happens is that someone does find him. I can't imagine I'll be shedding many tears over that."
"You might be if you're in the building at the time," Adam pointed out. "What's to say that they're going to be discriminate about finding targets? 'Collateral damage' is not something I want written on my gravestone."
"Anyone ever tell you you're a pessimist?"
"Coming from you that's almost funny."
Adam turned his head as he heard a knock on the front door.
"I'm guessing that that's not the neighbourhood welcoming committee with a gift basket." Ros rose gracefully from her seat and headed towards the door, one hand reaching for the handgun that was holstered at the small of her back. "If we happen to be in a neighbourhood of twitching curtains, then we're certainly going to give some homeowners a few things to gossip about."
"I wonder when they last had a siege in their street?" Adam grunted as he followed her out into the hallway.
Ros peered through the peep hole in the door and took in the sight of the three men on the doorstep. The man standing at the front of the small group was definitely O'Dowd. Despite the passage of time, he still bore a striking resemblance to his mug shots. His once dark hair was liberally flecked with grey but physically he was still in good shape. Ros stepped back from the door and began undoing the locks. From what she could tell, it didn't look as though prison life had been that tough on O'Dowd.
She opened the door and gave a cursory glance at the identity card that was thrust under her nose.
"Just get in here," she pulled the door open wider and ushered them in.
The escorting officer with the card sighed, "You're supposed to check that we are who we say we are, not just open the door and invite us in."
"And who else do you imagine I'd expect to find standing on the doorstep with him?" she jerked a finger in O'Dowd's direction.
Without waiting for a response she headed back down the narrow hallway towards the living room. The two plain-clothed officers exchanged glances before motioning for O'Dowd to follow her.
He grinned at the pair of them. "Nice to see that there's such a good relationship between all you types."
"Just get in," the reply came back. O'Dowd shrugged his shoulders before setting off down the hallway.
"If you could sign here," One of the plain-clothed officers handed the clipboard he was holding to Adam and indicated the space at the bottom of the form. "It just signifies that we've passed him into your care and that he arrived here in a healthy state."
Adam raised an eyebrow. "I hope you're not implying that you expect us to be the ones to do him harm?"
The officer smiled. "There's probably a list as long as your arm of people queuing up to kill him. We just needed some way of protecting ourselves from any blame when someone does finally manage to put a bullet in his brain."
"You don't trust us to look after him?" Ros's voice was icy, daring the man to argue to with her.
"Don't take it personally," the officer was quick to reassure her. "It's just that there are only two of you in here and an entire nation out there who want to see him dead. You've got to admit that the odds aren't really in your favour." He gestured towards his colleague. "We're only on this detail because we drew the short straw. Trust me; escorting O'Dowd across town wasn't the way we planned on spending the morning."
"I am here you know," O'Dowd growled from where he stood in the doorway, leaning casually against the frame of the door.
"Just sit there," Adam ordered, pointing towards the sofa.
"I am a person you know, not a piece of luggage."
"That's yet to be proved," Ros returned sarcastically, not bothering to turn her head to acknowledge him. "Now just do as you're told and sit down."
"Don't I get a hello then?" O'Dowd asked with a wry smile.
"Just sit down and shut up."
"When a man's inside he dreams of female company," O'Dowd told her as he threw himself onto the sofa. "I have to tell you that you are nothing like the dreams I had."
"I'm sure I'm relieved to hear it."
"The women I dreamt of were warm and giving....and had a pulse." He raised an eyebrow in her direction. "Tell me; is there anything beating beneath that frosty exterior?"
Ros pursed her lips and chose to ignore O'Dowd, turning her attention instead towards the two officers. "I take it that you weren't followed here?"
"No so we noticed," the first told her, trying to hide his amusement at the way O'Dowd was obviously winding the MI-5 officer up. "And trust me; being in O'Dowd's company is not going to be something I'll be boasting about in the pub."
"Yeah, well keep your eyes open on the way back," she told them sharply.
"Don't worry; if we see a van marked 'Mercenary for hire' we'll be sure to report it in!"
Sharing a grin at what they obviously thought was a good joke, the two men turned and headed back into the hallway.
Ros watched them go. "Why do they always have to send comedians?"
"You saying the Police are a joke?" O'Dowd looked up lazily from his place on the sofa. "Well now, I could have told you that."
Ignoring him, Ros headed off after the two officers, checking that the front door was secure after their exit.
O'Dowd turned his attention to Adam. "I see that you two are going to be a barrel of laughs. What do they do – surgically remove your personalities that day that you sign up?"
"The rules are straightforward," Adam told him flatly, refusing to rise to the bait. "You do as you're told and we'll do our best to see that you come out of this alive."
"So what, it's just you and the ice maiden looking after my well-being?"
"It's more than you deserve."
"Well you'd better be up to the job."
"I can't imagine you'll get to complain if we're not," Adam remarked as he headed across the room towards the kitchen. "You might want to keep away from the windows. I've seen the spray pattern from a shot to the head … This place has only just been redecorated and I doubt there's enough in the budget to have it done again soon!"
He allowed himself a small smile at the silence that met his comment. There obviously was a way of keeping the man quiet after all.
Ruth lifted her fingers from the keyboard and slowly flexed them. The task that Harry had set her wasn't impossible, but it was certainly proving to be something of a challenge to compile the list that he required in such a short space of time. At the back of her mind his comments concerning Oliver Mace were replaying themselves. For Mace not to know something was suspicious. There had to be someone high up in the food chain pulling the strings if they had managed to keep O'Dowd's release from him. That was something she had to bear in mind whilst she was searching through the files.
Reminding herself that the list wouldn't compile itself, she forced her fingers back onto the keys and they once again began their graceful dance.
Moments later she became aware of a presence at her shoulder. She was fairly certain that she knew who it was, and she hoped that Jo wouldn't think her rude if she didn't look up and acknowledge her colleague.
"I've got a question."
Ruth's fingers halted their rapid movement across the keyboard. There was a brief pause and then she turned to regard Jo. "What is it?"
Jo looked at the files that were stacking up on Ruth's desk, and the document that was building on the screen. She held up her hands by way of apology. "It's nothing," she insisted, realising that it wasn't perhaps the best time to be bothering Ruth. "I'll ... I'll go and ask Malcolm."
Ruth rubbed at her tired eyes and smiled. "I could do with the screen break anyway. They're always going on about how important they're supposed to be" She sat back in her seat and regarded Jo for a moment. "I'm guessing you want to know about O'Dowd?"
Jo nodded and took a seat on the edge of Ruth's desk.
"I get the feeling that I'm about the only one in the office who's not up to speed on this. I now know how Harry feels when we talk about what he calls 'unpopular music'!"
Ruth's smile grew. "What do you need to know?"
"Why the hatred?" Jo paused and rethought her question. "I mean, I know he was a bomb-maker, but why all the public hatred for him to this day?"
"If you're going to see Fraser Matthews then I suggest you do a little reading first," Ruth advised, her tone changing immediately. "On the morning of the 13th there was a defective train reported at Tower Hill at around 0815. The Circle Line clockwise ground to a halt and passengers were advised to take to the streets to continue their journeys. When the bomb exploded fifteen minutes later, a party of boys from The City of London School were just making their way along the top of Leadenhall Street..." she tailed off and watched as her colleague's expression turned to one of horror.
"How many were hurt?"
"Three were killed outright and five others were injured, two of them seriously. The media came down on him. I'm guessing you can imagine what the red tops made of it?"
"Hence the maniac tag?' Jo guessed.
Ruth nodded as she sifted through some of the files on her desk. "There's a file here with some of the copy from the articles. Also bear in mind that it was less than a week since the Remembrance Day bombing in Enniskillen. Tempers were running high. Feeling towards O'Dowd just grew."
Jo nodded as she took the file from Ruth. "Most of it fuelled, no doubt, by the great British press! Catching and jailing O'Dowd must have eased the pressure on the government somewhat."
When Ruth didn't reply Jo raised her head and looked to see what had attracted her colleague's attention.
The flatscreen monitor in the corner of the room was tuned to a news channel. The images on the screen were soft; the colours slightly muted. Judging from the quality, it was a news report from the channel's archive. Jo realised what the story was as Ruth's voice broke the silence.
"Malcolm, how long have they been running that item?"
Malcolm raised his head from his own work at the sound of Ruth's voice, and shot a cursory glance at the screen. "It's their main story; I've seen that report at least three times in the past hour. I mean, I don't know why they call it a news channel when all they seem to do is repeat the same things over and over again...It hardly qualifies as 'new' does it!"
Jo watched as Ruth pushed her chair away from her desk and made her way towards Harry's office, obviously no longer listening to Malcolm and her conversation with her completely forgotten.
"Was it something I said?" Malcolm asked with mock hurt as he watched the door to Harry's office open and Ruth bustle in without waiting for an invitation.
Jo shrugged her shoulders, and watched with barely disguised amusement the way that Ruth appeared to be interrogating Harry. There was no way that anyone else in the office would get away with such behaviour. If she tried it, she knew that she'd be demoted to some boring desk job within minutes, and probably rotated right out of the building at the next office reshuffle.
"You think there's something going on there?" She asked the question without thinking.
Malcolm followed Jo's gaze to the office.
"I think there's an ex-bomb maker sitting in a safe house that we ought to be concentrating our attentions on," he replied diplomatically, trying to ignore the pang of guilt he felt over his own heavy footsteps into territory that hadn't been his to walk in. He hated to think that his well-intentioned words to Ruth had been the cause of the awkwardness that had recently appeared in her relationship with Harry.
"Are you ok?"
He turned his head and caught Jo's concerned expression. "It's nothing," he assured her, trying to deflect her attention away from her chosen subject. "Just something on O'Dowd that I think Harry will want to hear about."
"You may have to wait your turn," she noted as she headed away from Ruth's desk and back towards her own.
Malcolm sat and, from a safe distance, watched the animated conversation that was taking place.
"It's indefensible," Ruth tried to push her point home. "I don't understand how you can sit there and not at least try and do something about it."
Harry sat back in his chair and watched patiently as Ruth paced back and forth across the small space in front of his desk; her temper appearing to grow with each step. She had barged into his office in the without bothering to knock - a habit that, despite himself, he had become accustomed to since her arrival from GCHQ – and had proceeded to launch into a very articulated rant against rolling news and the way that news channels distorted the importance of events that were happening in the world.
"Ruth..." Harry tried once again to make himself heard, but Ruth was on a roll and not about to be stopped.
"...There is no way that that ... that ... man should dominate the headlines..." she tailed off as she realised that Harry had spoken.
"Whilst I agree with you, it's not as though I can slap a D Notice on the situation Ruth. It's news; it's in the public domain and as such the press are free to report on it in any way that they see fit."
Ruth shook her head and tried to order her thoughts.
"I read the early reports on the wires and I'm sure that you did too. There are more important things happening out there in the world right now than the release of some terrorist."
"Former terrorist," Harry corrected. Realising as he spoke that it was the wrong choice of words.
"The passage of time doesn't change what he did. There should be some injunction that we can put in place; something to stop the news plastering his picture all over the TV. It's like he's some kind of celebrity."
Harry kept his eyes on Ruth's angry expression. "What have you found out about O'Dowd's release?"
He knew that the sudden topic shift would throw her off balance; he also knew that she wouldn't be able to resist sharing the information that she had gleaned.
He managed to suppress a smile as she launched immediately into facts that she had managed to gather.
"Looks as though O'Dowd had his own Lord Longford waiting in the wings. O'Dowd's legal team made several attempts in the last few years to get the sentence reduced. Each time the appeal was refused." Ruth pulled a face. "To say that the appeals were weak is understating it somewhat. If I'd been one of the appeal judges and read the material that was put forward, I would have increased O'Dowd's time not reduced it."
"So what changed this time?" Harry tried to urge Ruth to get to the point.
Ruth took a seat and folded her hands in her lap. "It was a completely different approach; a completely different plan of attack."
"Well surely you'd expect that?" Harry didn't follow where Ruth's explanation was going.
Ruth shook her head. "O'Dowd never had the greatest defence team in the world. At the time of his trial, no-one wanted the case. Not even ..."
"Ruth..." Harry intimated that she should get to the point.
She smiled apologetically. "Sorry...Every attempt that O'Dowd has made for early release has been with the same protest; that he has served his time and deserves to be let out on the streets." Ruth leant forward and tapped a finger on the table. "This time they took a completely different approach; looking at the way that the police carried out the investigation and the way that O'Dowd had been subjected to what they deemed to be a 'Trial by media' - citing the heavy press coverage and claiming that it prejudiced the case against him."
"That's some switch."
"Exactly; something I don't think that O'Dowd's team would have thought of in a lifetime."
Harry steepled his fingers and leant forward in his seat. "So the question remains; who's pulling the strings?"
"And why are they so keen to see O'Dowd out on the streets? They must have known of the media circus the event would throw up; and the likely reaction of the press and the public."
Harry thought on the matter. "Maybe they were hoping to get him out of the country before the press got wind of it?"
"From the sound of it they got the case past the Home Secretary without too much problem."
Harry pulled a face. "There's someone I need to have a meeting with," he acknowledged. "A few well-chosen words in his shell-like about the release of sensitive prisoners and communication with us."
"I'm sure you'll be charming," Ruth assured him. "Polite; yet firm."
Harry glowered at Ruth. He was about to say something when he heard a tap on the door. Malcolm was standing on the threshold; looking as though he was about to burst.
"See what more you can find out," Harry called out to Ruth as she took her leave, before beckoning Malcolm in "What have you got for me?"
Malcolm made his way across the office. "You're never going to believe this one," he began as he placed a printout down upon the desk. "I was looking into O'Dowd's bank account and wondering why he was suddenly flush with money...as far as I was aware, working in the prison kitchens did not your fortune make."
"And?" Harry prompted Malcolm to get to the point.
"And I found the name Waterhouse Publishing among the people making payments to his account."
Harry frowned. "And they are?"
"Last year they published what can only be described as a lurid account of the activities of self-confessed mercenary Frank Blundell. If you're looking for a book to appeal to the lowest common denominator in society, then you've found it."
"O'Dowd's planning a book?"
Malcolm spread his arms wide. "It makes sense; some glorified expose of his time working as a bomb-maker; I can't see why Waterhouse would be paying him money otherwise."
Harry shook his head. "I don't believe this. I want it looked into further. There is no way that anyone should be paying money to O'Dowd for his story."
"And it's not as though the Government would ever sanction its publication in this country."
"We all know that someone will pick it up." Harry pulled a face. "We need someone to go and have a word in the shell-like of Waterhouse Publishing; see if they can't persuade them that publishing will indeed lead to them being damned." He drummed his fingers on the desk. "Who's the commissioning editor?"
"The ever-loquacious Simon Burrows."
Harry let out a snort of derision. "Burrows! How the self-proclaimed mighty have fallen. All things considered I think Ros is our best match for Mr Burrows."
"She's with O'Dowd," Malcolm reminded him.
"Well I'm sure she won't object to the change in scenery." Harry returned his attention to his work, raising his head a few moments later when he realised that Malcolm was still there. "Was there something else?"
Malcolm pulled a face. "I've drawn up a rota for the safe house…"
"Well then you'll have to change it."
Malcolm glanced back out into the office, his heart sinking as he realised that there was only one viable option left for babysitting duties. He turned back, hoping to persuade Harry that perhaps the meeting with Burrows could be delayed, but Harry's attention was already firmly fixed on the files in front of him... making it clear that as far as he was concerned, the matter was now closed. Taking a deep breath Malcolm turned on his heel and left the office. The next conversation wasn't one that he was going to enjoy.
Ten minutes later, Harry raised his head from the file he had been trying to read. Ruth was standing in the doorway to his office. She'd been there for a good minute, not saying anything but he could hear her unspoken words, demanding to know if she really had to have anything to do with the surveillance operation.
"I'm sorry Ruth, but there's no other way around it," he apologised.
"I could just report sick and go home."
"And spend the rest of the weekend looking for a new job?" Harry finished for her. "Look I understand why you don't want to spend any time in the man's company. Believe me, he's not exactly top of my list of people I want to spend an afternoon with either, but we have been tasked to look after him and look after him we will."
"I'm not technically a field officer," Ruth argued, searching for a way out of the assignment.
"And you're also not 'technically' entitled to any of the kit that you have walked out of here with over the past three years," Harry countered. "But I've yet to write up any of those little indiscretions on your personnel file."
Ruth folded her arms. "That's blackmail!"
"True," Harry admitted.
Ruth let out a heavy sigh. "He's a murderer Harry."
"One who's served his time and is now entitled to be allowed back into society."
Ruth shook her head. "You don't believe that, surely?" She regarded him for a few moments. "I refuse to believe that you agree with that...not after what he did. Not after what we just talked about."
"Whatever he did is in the past Ruth, and is none of our concern. We can't allow personal feelings to get in the way of us doing our job."
"Oh no," Ruth agreed as she turned on her heel and left the doorway. "Because we all know, that in no way is the heart attached to the rest of the body."
Harry watched her go and then picked up the phone.
"Adam, tell Ros to get her things together, Ruth will be there within the hour."