The National Portrait Gallery: Midday
Sylvia stood by the edge of the door to the museum, book in hand, her finger tucked into the pages to hold her place as she looked out at Trafalgar Square from in between the thick concrete columns. Her gaze wasn't fixed on anything in particular; she simply let herself get lost in space. The frigid air cut through her clothes, making her shiver lightly but she didn't make an effort to warm herself. Instead, she concentrated on breathing deeply and thinking of nothing else but her breath hoping that her mind wouldn't plague her with troubling thoughts.
"Are you al'right miss?" She heard the security guard in front of the door ask.
It took Sylvia a good moment to realize that the man was talking to her. She turned around, doing a double take, then saw him looking at her with a measure of concern. Shocked and somewhat startled she replied, "Yes… thank you."
Turning around to avoid the man, she began walking down the stone steps to street level, closing her book and putting it in her purse as she did. Once she got down the stairs, she kept walking. It had been a long time since a stranger picked her out of a crowd. Since someone asked her how she felt. That never seemed to matter anymore, as long as things were going smoothly. Usually she would not mind, but lately she had grown tired of holding everything inside.
Sylvia had took the Tube back up to Hampstead Heath; crammed against the doors of the train as she took the last bit of standing room available. Her breath fogged up the plexiglass and her cold fingers gripped tightly around the steel handrail as the train shot down the tracks. When the doors opened and the 'Mind the Gap' announcement began playing over the loudspeakers, Sylvia nearly ran out of the congested space; fixing her coat as she headed up the stairs to the surface level.
Breathing in the cool air, she decided to take a walk through the park instead of going the direct route to Control's apartment. Looping her bag over her shoulder, she strode with purpose in the direction of the Heath. She realized, of course, that she would have to go to work eventually, but she wanted to take her time avoiding the inevitable… which she seemed to have been doing all day.
At the end of her path through the Heath, passing the swimming pond Smiley often went to, was a flower stand. Seeing it instantly reminded her of Hanni. He was not particularly fond of flowers but she used to get him lilies every now and then to brighten up their office in Budapest.
There was a bucket of white short stemmed lilies sitting out front of the stand with several other kinds of flowers. It was as if they were waiting for her. Sylvia, despite herself, was secretly sentimental. She could not stop herself as she gently raised the wrapped bouquet out of the bucket and brought them to the teller to pay for them.
The others didn't have to know what they were for, she thought to herself. Although Smiley might already know, knowing him. Grabbing up her lilies, she went on her way once more.
Soon she arrived to the apartment. She was still nervous to see him again. The walk in the park seemed to have done little to calm her nerves. Yet, she was as ready as she was ever going to be and she was already late.
Hitching her purse up higher on her shoulder, Sylvia hurried up the marble steps of the building to the fourth floor. She then headed down the hallway and knocked on the door to Control's apartment, not allowing herself a moment to reconsider. It took a little while before somebody answered to her but eventually the door opened.
"You're late," Mendel said as he stepped aside to let her in. Sylvia shot him a look daring him to say anything more on the subject. She had enough to deal with as it was. Mendel wasn't to blame but she couldn't hold in her frustrations.
She hung up her purse and coat and stepped into the living room where the rest of the team was.
"Sorry I'm late, I was held up by the Tube," she lied, making her way further into the room.
Peter was sitting on the couch in the corner, picking at a cheese sandwich while Smiley was at his desk concentrating intently on some paperwork. The younger man glanced up at her, with some concern which Sylvia couldn't quite place. Other than being late, she wondered what she had done wrong.
"Sylvia, you're coming with me to see Jim Prideaux tomorrow." Smiley said, barely even glancing up from his work as he did so. "Peter has got some work to do at the Circus and I think it's best that you stay away from there while your arm is still marked with his address."
Sylvia was shocked, not only by his tone of voice but at this order he had given her. She never imagined that he would ever make her see Jim Prideaux; whatever the circumstances. She looked over at Peter again who was now avoiding her gaze. They must have decided on this while she was out.
"Certainly," She replied quietly, nodding her head oddly to her seemingly disembodied response. "I- I'm just going to go put these in water." She said, motioning lamely to the flowers in her hand. All of the sudden it seemed like every joint in her body was frozen but somehow she managed to deftly make her way to the door of Control's bedroom and close it behind her.
George quietly put his pen down then and sighed. He knew that this news would not go over well, but it had to be done. Then, for some reason, he thought about the flowers she held in her hand. Why would she have flowers, he thought.
"What's today's date Peter?" Smiley asked, staring at the door Sylvia just went into.
"The twelfth I believe," he answered, pushing his plate away. The sudden mood change in the room had put him off of his appetite.
"That's what I thought," said George grimly, knocking his knuckles against the card table in frustration. How did he not remember? He had been so caught up in the case lately that he had completely forgotten.
Peter on the other hand knit his brows together, not understanding the correlation. "What's on the twelfth?"
"It's the anniversary of Hanni Saied's death," He said, gazing down at the carpet.
"Oh," Peter replied quietly, unable to think of anything else to say. He looked towards the closed bedroom door then, concerned for what might be going on behind it.
Sylvia hitched the bag of groceries she had been carrying up onto her hip as she ascended the stairs of the office building. She turned the corner on the fourth floor landing and stepped in something wet. Sylvia looked down at her feet and saw a trickle of liquid on the dark wood stairs. Bending down, she dabbed her fingertips in it. Turning over her hand, she saw crimson red blood staining her skin. Sylvia's stomach turned to ice as she looked up at the long liquid trail that led up the stairs. Carefully setting her grocery bag down, she stood up and cautiously began to climb the stairs.
Sylvia set the flowers down on the folded quilt at the foot of the bed; careful not to bruise any of the petals as she pulled the rubber band and white butcher paper from around the bunch of stems. Picking up each lily one at a time, she set it in the little glass vase she had grabbed off of a shelf. An image of Hanni's face surfaced in her mind as she stroked one of the petals. Hot tears immediately sprung to her eyes at the thought of him. They stung bitterly as they fell from her lashes and her hand went to her lips to keep herself from crying out.
Sylvia held her gun at the ready as she came upon the fifth landing. The blood trail became thicker; the soles of her shoes were soaked in it. Yet she ignored the sickening feeling in her gut as she carefully stepped in the thin layer that covered the narrow stairs. Her limbs were shaking like mad as adrenaline heavily coursed through her system. Quickly turning the corner, she aimed her gun upwards, expecting someone to be waiting to shoot her at the top of the next flight. There was no one waiting to kill her, but there was someone waiting on the landing. Despite the large amount of blood smattered across it, she immediately recognized the person's face and slowly lowered her weapon.
Hanni was crumpled in a heap only three feet from where she was standing, bleeding to death. His thick button-up sweater was parted, revealing deep stab wounds in his chest and stomach. She only had to glance at them to tell that they were indeed mortal.
Sylvia sucked in a ragged, frightened breath and slowly knelt down next to him, her gun still gripped tightly in her hand. Pressing her fingers to the pulse point in his neck, she felt a slow, weak thrumming below the skin.
"Hanni," she called out to him; he was still alive but just barely. Placing a hand on his cheek, she turned his head towards hers, hoping that he was still conscious.
Hearing her panicked voice from above and feeling her hands on his face, Hanni searched her out through the white haze which, for the past half hour had slowly been consuming the edges of this vision. His honey colored eyes finally found hers and he held her gaze, afraid that he'd lose sight of her if he didn't. He was so weak he couldn't move, he didn't have the will to. Blood dripped from the corners of his mouth, his lungs were so full of it he couldn't speak, but his gaze illustrated to her just how frightened he was of dying. He knew he could not be saved from this, but he still couldn't allow himself to accept it. He wanted to live so badly.
"It's alright," Sylvia told him, brushing his limp hair out of his face. Her voice was somewhat raw but she somehow managed to hold herself together for his sake. "I'm here now."
She sat down beside him and grabbed up his icy hand in hers. He squeezed her fingers in recognition, holding on tightly to her so that even through his dulled senses he knew that she was still there. He could barely see her through the thick white haze now. Her presence served to abate some his previous fears. Now that she was here, he could be reassured that at least he wouldn't have to die alone.
I'm sorry- Sylvia thought as she rubbed her thumb over his cold knuckles- I'm sorry I couldn't get us home. She felt a strong wave of guilt wash over her, knowing that somehow she could have tried harder to get them out of Hungary. There had to have been a way. She remembered him pleading with her, asking her to flee across the border with him. But she refused, knowing that it would be considered by the Circus as defecting, and she wouldn't allow it. Her pride kept them there, that and her blind faith in what the heads of MI6 could do, even though the world was falling down around them.
Instead of troubling his last thoughts with her guilt-ridden apologies, Sylvia spoke comforting words in his ear and stroked his hair as she waited for death to come to him, helpless to stop it. She promised him a number of things, most of them involving taking care of his family. But she knew, as she watched him slip away, that the chances of her getting out of Hungary were as good as his.
It wasn't long before Hanni's eyes slipped closed and his hand went slack in hers. The moment Sylvia knew he was gone she began to cry quietly, the back of her head resting against the wall and her small fingers still interlaced with his.
After a moment, she angrily kicked at the wall adjacent to her, and screamed out in frustration. Tears burned in her eyes as they freely slid down her cheeks. She had never felt so trapped.
They had been in Budapest without hearing word from the Circus for weeks; living out of their little office. To the Russians it must seem like shooting fish in a barrel. The Circus told them to wait, they had, and now Hanni was dead and the Russians would come for her next.
Sylvia could hardly believe that it had been a whole year, and still simply recalling Hanni was painful. She had promised him that they would make it out of Budapest; that she would make sure they both got home. But word from the Circus never came and she did not protect him like she had promised. She stood at the end of the bed, the half-filled vase held loosely in her hand as she silently cried.
Wiping away the tears that hung on her jaw-line, Sylvia carefully placed the rest of the flowers into the vase and set them on the windowsill.
On the other side of the door, George quietly got up from his seat, his chest constricted by guilt. Buttoning his vest, he looked over at Peter, who had gone back to work.
"You can go home now Peter," George told him.
Knowing that this meant to leave, Peter gave him a nod and began to pack up his things. Walking the younger man to the door, Smiley also dismissed Mendel who had no problem vacating the apartment. Locking the door behind them, Smiley made his way to the bedroom.
He knew he had made a mistake with Sylvia today, and in light of the events of yesterday evening, he was building up quite a poor track record. Stopping at the door to the bedroom, he gave a light knock before entering.
Smiley saw her sitting on the bed with her legs crossed, staring hard out the window in front of her, deep in thought. Her form was bathed in the warm afternoon light and he could see tear tracks glistening on her cheeks. Sylvia didn't bother wiping them away as she looked over at him. Seeing who it was she offered him a weak smile and returned her gaze out the window.
"I don't know how I'm going to do this…" she said after a while, her voice somewhat horse. There was no point in trying to hide her fear, she thought. He already knew about it anyway.
Spotting the flowers nicely arranged in the windowsill, George closed the door behind him and stepped further into the room. "Sylvia, I'm sorry if I seemed insensitive earlier, I had forgotten what day it was." Sylvia was somewhat surprised by his apology, even though she knew she shouldn't be. It was George after all. She just figured that today was going to be filled with unpleasantness.
"I'll get Peter to come with me instead," he began to say.
"No, don't be ridiculous," she told him. "I'll go."
The room filled with silence then as Smiley watched her in concern. He didn't know whether or not to insist that Peter go in her stead, knowing that once she made up her mind she could not be dissuaded. After a moment he spoke,
"Are you sure?" he asked stepping closer to the bed.
Sylvia looked up at him then in firm resolve, "Of course."
AN: Hey guys thanks to all of you who reviewed and continue to review! I'm very happy as to how this series is turning out and I hope you are too. Unfortunately we are nearing the end of the film timeline! So that means this story is almost over :((( I hope to stretch it out but alas all things must come to their respectable ends.
As always, PLEASE REVIEW! :D