We've got incoming..." Callum called across the grid, "Italian Trade Minister."
At once Ruth and Erin were at his side.
Three separate images appeared on the screen, all were in Russian. Ruth leant closer to read them as her phone began to vibrate in her pocket.
"Yes," she snapped.
"It's good to hear you too, Ruth."
She lowered the phone, "Harry," she mouthed to the others.
"What are you doing? Where are you? Towers is apoplectic."
"I've got the links, I need you to find the proof."
"Proof of what?"
"I don't know yet. You were right, Ruth."
"Harry ..."
"Trust me."
And with that he was gone.
She wanted to ask him so much. But it was their world to always speak guardedly and with so few words.
Callum was staring at the images.
"Does Harry not speak Russian?"
"To a rudimentary level."
The Russian was straightforward enough, the meaning however ...
"Just for once it'd be nice if they actually said what they meant," muttered Callum.
Where was the challenge in that, Ruth thought. A coded puzzle that Harry needed her to solve.
And solve it she would.
Elena Gavrik underestimated Harry Pearce.
For so long she had had him in the palm of her hand and now was no different. Yes, he had acted unpredictably by bringing her to this godforsaken cottage in the middle of nowhere, but it had suited her purpose.
Whatever he had said about Ilya understanding such 'security' precautions, she knew it was a lie. Ilya would be furious, insulted, the negotiations with the British Government would be at an end.
That had been her purpose.
Thank you, Harry.
But if she was going to do something right, if she was truly going to end all sense of 'glasnost', return the motherland to the Union: to strength, influence and power; and cut all connections with the diseased West, stopping the influence of the soft, weak fresh thinkers such as her husband; then much more was needed.
That, she could do from the middle of nowhere; just as well as from central London.
Ruth needed to speak to Ilya Gavrik. There was something in one of the coded messages.
Getting access to him, however, was another story.
Towers' relationship and influence had been swiftly curtailed as communications with Moscow came in flurries of threat and counter threat.
The abduction of the wife of a senior diplomat in an ambassadorial role on the grounds of 'security' had not been received well.
With access denied and Gavrik embedded at the Russian embassy, Ruth had no choice but to resort to an unexpected and unauthorised visit.
"How in the hell did you get in here!?"
Ilya recognised her at once from the previous negotiations at the Home Office.
"My apologies for arriving unannounced but I need to talk with you."
Gavrik was already halfway to the door to call for her removal when he saw the flash of metal in her hand.
"Please don't make me use this, Ambassador, my track record leaves something to be desired."
He stopped and turned towards her.
"You have my attention Miss Evershed."
She nodded for him to sit and they both perched uneasily on the ornate chairs of the salon.
"You kidnap my wife and now you hold me at gunpoint...I see the hospitality of British Intelligence has changed little after all."
"We have no responsibility for Harry's actions. He is acting purely of his own volition."
Gavrik laughed heartily.
"He is a fool."
"He believes there are concerns over the security of your wife."
"He is a dinosaur who has failed to recognise his time to die. His heart is ruling what little sense he has left. Tell me, what is he most worried about ... that I know my wife was his agent? Or that he was her lover?"
He paused to enjoy watching Ruth's surprise.
"Oh yes, I found out. I wanted to raise a son, not a bastard."
"And you never told her you knew?"
"Why would I? She was young, impressionable, excited by the secrecy and lies. She would never have left with him, she loves her country too much. And so I buried it and cleaned up after her, until all was as though it had never been."
Ruth was trying to assess the bombshell that Garvrik had exploded before her and its consequences through the decades but there was too much to compute.
"But now she is with Harry," she finally managed.
"You think I should be worried?"
The ripples of his laughter echoed once more.
"Harry Pearce has no hold over my wife, he has no hope with her."
Ruth wished it the truth but her faith was less certain.
Gavrik' head tilted as he studied her.
"And what is your history, Miss Evershed, with the soon to be extinct Sir Harry? I suspect it is a complicated one?"
"It has no relevance to this conversation, ambassador."
"You were lovers," he smiled knowingly, "I knew there was something between you. Awkward, yet familiar ... aware. Yes, I see it now. This must be difficult for you, that he has taken her with him?"
"I can assure you that we have never been lovers and the only thing that I find difficult is standing here with a gun pointed at your head because I need you to simply answer my questions."
He smiled, "Then simply ask the question, Miss Evershed."
She spoke aloud the agent name and the operational name that had featured on the coded messages from Elena. She was dealing with the most clever, wise and experienced of operators but she would swear blind that he knew nothing of them.
"Thank you and my apologies for interrupting your evening," she turned to leave, quietly opening the side door to the suite.
"Does he know ..." Ilya asked, as she glanced back, "how much you love him?"
She closed the door behind her.