STATE OF EMERGENCY

Chapter 11

SCENE 29

External view of Thames House (with the time of 7.30 am marked up) cuts to the camera passing through an empty Grid, down a corridor and into a lighted bathroom. We see a dark suit neatly hanging on a wall next to a shower cubicle with a shirt and tie still encased in a dry cleaning bag. The room is partly obscured with steam and we hear a shower being run. Suddenly a mobile phone rings and we hear a voice from inside the shower.

HARRY (with exasperation): Shit! Is there no bloody peace in this godforsaken place?

We hear the shower stop. The glass door opens and a wet, dripping Harry emerges naked from the shower and grabs his phone, which is resting on a shelf above the washbasin. The camera moves to split screen shots of the two characters in conversation.

HARRY (impatiently): Yes!

JASON BELLING (in a suave, mocking tone): Ah. Mr … sorry, Sir Harry Pearce. Not

a bad time to call I hope?

HARRY (cold and terse): No. What do you want? I take it this is not a social call.

BELLING: Mmm. An interesting topic your social skills or rather the lack of them.

You really ought to make more effort at rapprochement with your sister

Services and in particular government offices like mine. Behaving like a

boorish throwback to the time of the Cold War isn't going to win you

friends and influence people in today's caring, sharing environment.

HARRY: I don't have time to swap meaningless platitudes with you Belling. What do

you want?

BELLING (unperturbed): A bit snappy this morning aren't we? You're not feeling

under any personal pressure by any chance?

HARRY (his eyes narrow as his voice becomes icy): No. Is there any reason I should

be?

BELLING (with a sneer to his tone): Well, you tell me. I can do sympathy. I know we

got off to a bad start with that unfortunate misunderstanding involving

Oliver Mace…..

HARRY (interrupts, incredulous):'unfortunate misunderstanding'? You conspired

with Mace to subvert the integrity of the whole British legal system; you

put my agents' lives in danger; not to mention the small matter of having

several innocent men murdered and being more than happy to see me rot

indefinitely at her Majesty's Pleasure.

BELLING (blithely): All water under the bridge Harry and it's not why I'm calling.

HARRY (seething): Only friends and close colleagues call me by my first name

Belling and you certainly do not fall in either category. Now,

for the third time of asking, why are you ringing me out of the

blue at 7.30 in the morning?

BELLING (obviously peeved at the rebuff and turning nasty): The Home Secretary

is concerned that you're not on top of this whole Iran business. We only

avoided the catastrophe of a nationwide epidemic by the narrowest of

margins and now there seem to be multiple foreign agents running round

the UK with impunity, trying to flog nuclear secrets to any one with a

big enough piggy bank. You really don't seem to have your eye on the

ball on this one (heartbeat pause and then with heightened insolence)

Harry. He feels perhaps it's time you brought in fresh blood.

HARRY (snorts derisively): Oh, like you , you mean? On a scale of 1 to 10 for reliability and

loyalty to UK interests, you score marginally below Darius Bakhshi. So thanks, but no thanks.

The Home Secretary has my number. If he has any anxieties as to my handling of this crisis, I

suggest he contacts me directly. I don't deal with messenger boys. Goodbye.

Harry puts down his mobile and reaches for a towel from a stack positioned on a rack in an alcove next to the washbasin.

HARRY (muttering to himself as he wraps the towel around his waist and fishes out an electric

shaver and Eau Sauvage cologne from his washbag): If that little

bastard is involved in any way with Ruth's kidnapping I'm going to finish him.

As he mentions Ruth's name Harry's eyes soften to express both love and anxiety. The camera positioned behind his shoulder focuses in closeup on his reflection in the mirror, before he drops his gaze and continues to get ready to face the day: brushing down the damp grey-blond curls which stubbornly refuse to lie flat and swiftly applying deodorant and cologne to his body before removing the crisp white Turnbull & Asser shirt from its protective cover and expertly manoeuvres heavy gold cufflinks through the double cuffs at his wrist. The camera switches to a general view of the Grid which is now a hub of activity as the staff enter through the pods and settle themselves by their work stations.

JO (sitting on the edge of Connie's desk): Where's Harry? It's not like him to be late.

CONNIE (disapprovingly): The security man on the front desk informed me that Harry stayed all

night on the Grid. The men's bathroom has been continuously occupied for the last half an hour

– it's most likely Harry's in there trying to make himself human again; so I wouldn't worry, he hasn't been

abducted by aliens, more's the pity.

JO (groans): Oh God no. He won't have slept. He's going to be like a bear with a

sore head all day.

CONNIE (nods in agreement): Oh definitely. (adds with a teasing lilt to her voice)

I hope your rabies jabs are up to date?

JO (smiling in spite of herself): It's not funny Connie. This is a serious situation. We

need Harry calm and collected, not exhausted and irrational.

CONNIE (insistent): Harry doesn't do 'irrational' Jo. Dogmatic, bad-tempered,

arrogant and overbearing yes, but never irrational.

HARRY (coming up silently behind them): I know I can always count on you for a

character reference Connie.

CONNIE (in disapproving, WI leader voice): Yes well, I speak as I find. You're

never at your best on too little sleep.

HARRY (looking at her with an amused expression before he walks towards his

office): Are any of us Connie?

CONNIE(calling after him, determined to get the last word): Stop pretending to

be reasonable on two hours rest Harry. I know you better than that.

Harry retreats into his office chuckling before he assumes his serious professional expression as he sits down at the desk and faces another day of treachery and Armageddon.

SCENE 30: A Soho Alleyway

Ros and Sholto glance up and down the street to check they are not being observed or overheard before they begin their discussion.

ROS (tensely and with the strain of anxiety clearly showing on her face): We've lost

someone.

SHOLTO (inscrutable): Ah yes, Valentino – that is who you are referring to?

ROS (after a fractional hesitation): Of course. He just vanished from under our noses.

Do you know anything about his whereabouts?

SHOLTO: Naturally; but it's a quid pro quo situation Rosalind. That's how all

successful relationships work. I give you something and you give me

something in return.

ROS (bitterly): That's not a relationship, it's reciprocity. What's

your price this time?

SHOLTO (with a vulpine smile): We have shared goals, remember. This isn't a case

of crude trade-offs; but there is something we want you to do.

(Sholto holds out tiny transmitters that lie improbably fragile in the broad palm of his hand.)

We need you to place these on the Grid.

ROS (looking dismayed): Don't be ridiculous, they'll never get past Malcolm's

security.

SHOLTO (looking and sounding calmly confident): Oh yes they will. We need to

have eyes and ears on the Grid at all times if US aggression is to be stopped.

Valentino is half a mile from here at TG 667 412. Now get on with it.

Ros continues to hesitate.

SHOLTO (impatient): Well?

ROS: I have to know. How far are you prepared to go to control this situation – to

control Harry Pearce?

SHOLTO (sighs): Women. They've always got to reduce things down to the

emotional. I would have thought better of you Ros. (his voice becomes cold

and threatening) We will do whatever is necessary to achieve our objectives.

Does that answer your question?

ROS ( with a miserable, guilt-ridden face): Yes. Perfectly. (pause as she looks

straight at Sholto) Don't think for one minute that you can act with impunity.

I'm helping because I believe we have to avoid another conflagration in the

Middle East; it doesn't mean I'm prepared to give you carte blanche to destroy

my colleagues.

SHOLTO (in a hard, ruthless voice):I've told you before. You're not in a position

to threaten me. What you are doing – what you have already done, is tantamount

to treason. Do you think Harry Pearce will listen to your pleas that you have

been acting in his best interests? (Ros mutinously drops her gaze from Sholto's

face) No, I didn't think so. We are your only friends now Ros, don't abuse that

friendship. It's very lonely out in the cold – not to mention dangerous.

Sholto smirks threateningly at Ros and walks off.

ROS (whispers to herself): Oh God, Ruth. I'm so sorry.

The camera follows Ros as she walks quickly down the street and then picks up another shot of her as she spots Valentino in the window of a restaurant. She opens her mobile phone and speed dials.

ROS: Hello Harry? I've found Valentino. No, not telepathy, just a lucky coincidence.

SCENE 31: The Saloon Bar of a dilapidated Victorian Pub.

We see Harry sitting waiting at a corner table sipping a whisky when Connie enters the Bar and walks up to him.

HARRY (gestures to Connie to sit down and pushes over a tumbler of gin):Thank

you for coming.

CONNIE(smiles tersely): Not at all. It's just like old times – there's nothing like

a spot of traditional tradecraft to get the juices flowing again. Now (in

business-like tone) why all the cloak and dagger?

HARRY (frowning): I can't put my finger on it, but I have a gut feeling that there are

some new and unwelcome ears on the Grid. (smiles ruefully) Maybe it's

just a case of geriatric paranoia, but all the same, I don't want our

discussions to be overheard. (Pauses as his expression becomes more

serious and he leans forward and speaks in a low urgent voice) Adam has

overstepped the mark.

CONNIE (shrugs her shoulders): When doesn't Adam overstep the mark? It's his

modus operandi - that's why you brought him in, in the first place.

HARRY (insistent): No. I mean really overstepped the mark. His relationship with

Ana Bakhshi has gone beyond the operational and he has been entertaining

her at one of our safe houses without clearance and without telling anyone.

CONNIE (interrupting): Silly boy. Still these situations are never clear cut are they

Harry? I mean, no matter how carefully you try and compartmentalise, these

things have a habit of getting messy.

HARRY (shakes his head and purses his lips): On its own it would be bad enough,a

stupid lapse of judgement; but remember he's also implicated in the Tim

Lehare business.

CONNIE: Yes, an unfortunate situation I agree, but hopefully Lehare will pull

through and then we can get to the bottom of who set him up.

HARRY (grimly): Not without the help of a medium we won't. Tim Lehare died an

hour ago without recovering consciousness.

CONNIE: Oh shit!

HARRY: Precisely. A senior field officer of MI5 apparently attacks and kills a

journalist investigating MI5 involvement in the Teheran bombing and the

possibility of a subsequent coverup.

CONNIE (quietly): It's not looking good.

HARRY: Ever the queen of understatement. No, it's definitely not looking good.

We just have to do what we can to smother the whole Lehare story –

bring Jo's tame journalist Kaplan in from the cold and make sure whoever

is behind this set up isn't allowed to stoke the flames any further. If our

complicity in the Teheran bomb gets out the peace deal with Iran will be

down the pan; not to mention what a field day will had by all interested

parties in the Middle East.

CONNIE: And Adam?

HARRY: That's what I wanted to discuss with you. I don't see any alternative, he's

going to have to disappear. We can hopefully sit on the story in terms of the

press but it's already being broadcast on the jungle drums at Vauxhall Cross

and God knows where else. The JIC are going to want Adam's head on a

spike on this one (snorts) probably more because of an un-licensed use of

Government property than endangering the peace process but either way

I have to get him under the radar and fast.

CONNIE: He won't agree to it.

HARRY (with anger in his voice): Well he won't have any bloody choice. If he

hadn't been distracted by the undoubted charms of the wife of the

Iranian Special Consul he would have dealt more effectively with the

situation. Maybe even spotted the setup before it was too late.

CONNIE (raising her eyebrows and looking questioningly at Harry): People in

love or (with an ironic smile) in lust, make mistakes Harry. Even in

our line of work where you're trained to separate off emotions, it's not

always possible to do so. I mean, I've even heard of one senior official

who disregarded all good practice and put his whole department in

jeopardy to save someone he had feelings for.

HARRY (frowning at her): Yes, thank you Connie. When I want crass and unhelpful

analogies with my own life history, I'll ask for them. Anyway this is a

totally different situation. Adam has just been self indulgent. If I'd followed

his path, I would have said to hell with duty and protocol and built

a serious relationship with Ruth with no regard to the consequences.

CONNIE (looking directly at him): Perhaps you should have.

HARRY (shakes his head impatiently): You're old enough to know that happy

endings only occur in fairy tales. Anyway, I haven't brought you out here to

play agony aunt Connie. We need to decide what should be done about

Adam, Ana, the whole mess.

CONNIE (briskly): Right. As far as Adam is concerned, I'll get Malcolm to

access some funds and a passport. (pause) Your best chance of persuading

Adam is to emphasise that it's only a temporary situation. There is no way

he will leave Wes behind if he thinks it could be long term.

HARRY (quietly): I won't lie to him Connie; besides which, he's not so stupid as

to believe any line I try and spin him.

CONNIE: Yes, but hopefully it's the truth. I mean, come on Harry, you can see

off the hyenas of Whitehall surely? You've done it often enough before.

HARRY: It's not as simple as that Connie. This whole Iran business is out of control.

There are too many interested parties involved, all with their own agendas.

As you know, I never relish being embroiled in politics at the best of times

and this present situation just proves my point. I can't guarantee what will

happen whilst I'm in the dark as to what end games are being played out

behind the scenes and Adam knows that.

CONNIE (glancing over her shoulder to double check no one is within ear shot):

And what about Ruth?

HARRY (his eyes momentarily betray anguish before becoming guarded): The

same. Until I figure out who is doing what and why; then we have little

chance of establishing who has taken her.

CONNIE (her eyes narrow as she leans towards Harry): You would tell me if

you knew or suspected anything more specific Harry, wouldn't you?

Don't try to play Sir Galahad and go it alone – remember how that

turned out the last time?

HARRY (smiles): Always the mother hen. Alright Connie, I promise. Now, it

looks as though you could do with a top up.

CONNIE (sardonically): Have you ever known me to refuse?

As Harry gets up to move to the bar Connie catches his arm

CONNIE(in a low, conspiratorial voice): So when do you want the funds?

HARRY: As soon as possible. I need to contact Adam before it is taken out of my

hands.

CONNIE: Fine. Better make mine another double.

As Harry's broad shoulders are seen moving expertly to the front of the crowded bar, Connie takes out her mobile.

CONNIE: Hello Malcolm? I've got an urgent shopping list for you.

SCENE 32: Wood Panelled Room in Country House

The camera pans around an empty room that appears to have been originally used as a bedroom, although it has obviously not been occupied for some time as there is no bedding on the walnut bed pushed into one corner and there are thick cobwebs hanging from the ceiling and criss crossing from the fireplace to the wood panelling that covers two thirds of the walls. The camera follows round the room until we see Ruth sitting on the floor with her wrist handcuffed to an iron ring embedded in the stone window frame. We hear a door opening and Ruth looks up.

RUTH: What the hell do you hope to gain from keeping me here Juliet?

Juliet walks languidly into the room and sits delicately on the edge of the wooden bed looking down at the manacled Ruth.

JULIET (in a cold, sardonic voice): Ever the analyst, looking for motives. I'm not

here to give you answers Ruth so you can stop fishing.

RUTH (defiant but obviously frightened): I don't know what your game is or why

you've brought me here, but if you think for one minute that you can get

at Harry through me then you're very much mistaken.

JULIET: Two minutes in your company and I'm already bored. God only

knows what he sees in you. Look sweetie, you are way, way out of

your league here, so don't even try to work out what's happening.

All you need to know is that you are going to be kept here as long

as you are useful; so for your sake let's hope that's for the foreseeable

future. Make a nuisance of yourself and you'll just end up with a top up

of what you've already had. (Juliet opens up a metal box she is carrying

in her hand to reveal two syringes. She points to each in turn). That's this

one. This other one is the hors d'oeuvre, a little truth extractor.

(Ruth utters a stifled scream and shrinks away from Juliet who picks up

the syringe and stabs it without a moment's hesitation into Ruth's arm who

moments later slumps to the floor)

Juliet calls over her shoulder to a male guard who comes into the room.

JULIET: Take her downstairs and strap her into the chair in the main room.

The camera tracks Juliet as she follows the guard down the stairs. She is greeted by

Sholto in a large living room furnished in heavy chintz sofas.

SHOLTO: Did she tell you anything?

JULIET: I haven't the patience to play cat and mouse with our little desk clerk.

She'll tell us all we need to collaborate Ros's information in a few

minutes.

SHOLTO (frowns): It's a risk to keep plying her with these drugs. What if her

heart fails?

JULIET (with a pretend yawn): The state of Ruth Evershed's heart is really of no

interest to me. I'm far more interested in Harry Pearce's heart or more

precisely whether his heart will rule his head when he is informed of

her location. Whether our decoy is actually alive or dead by then is immaterial.

Now then, shall we get on with this before I have to administer another

dose?

The scene fades as we see Sholto and Juliet advance on the bound, semi-conscious figure of Ruth tied to a large wooden chair.