If Ros Myers told you to jump, you didn't ask how high, so it was shortly after seven in the morning, a time when Alec would have normally been sleeping off the excesses of the previous evening's exertions, that he dragged himself down the final few steps into the bowels of the underground car park at Thames House, where Harry's recently delivered but as yet driven brand new Range Rover stood ready and waiting. The early morning rush hour traffic in London could be a nightmare and Ros was determined that they would be at their destination as the doors opened. Dodgy or not, she wanted them to use the element of surprise.

The short approach road that led to the premises of Messrs Clifford and Jones, Electrical Contractors to the Boroughs of Westminster and Kensington, as the large billboard suggested, gave the impression that they were exactly that. Those who were less than legit and given the right incentives would undertake anything that was offered to them, were far more likely to be found in shabby and litter infested back streets, lined with heavily padlocked garages, the contents of which could be guaranteed dubious to say the least.

Ros and Alec, whose legends, were that they were HM government inspectors from the Health and Safety Executive with a brief to visit all the companies that in any way were involved in the setting up of the London Marathon, made a quick decision to change tack, and to use rather than intimidate whoever they got to speak to. So it was Mr and Mrs Kirby-Wilde whose daughter Lucinda was having a summer wedding reception in the garden of their large house in Mayfair, who parked Harry's car outside the very tidy premises and walked arm in arm and through the door.

'Alexander and I,' said Ros, in a voice that sounded as though she was one of the minor Royals, or at least she believed she was, 'want nothing but the best for our daughter don't we darling? And you've come to us highly recommended.'

Mandy, the receptionist as she'd introduced herself was still struggling to understand Ros's pronouncement of 'you've come to us,' when in her opinion it should have been the other way round. Perhaps this was the way toffs said things? She didn't quite curtsy, although Alec was certain that she'd been about to, before she turned and fled in search of her boss.

Having waited a few moments, long enough for Tariq to have confirmed that he and Malcolm had them on comms, Mandy returned and escorted them through to the inner sanctum where they were supplied with two cups of coffee, that were a great deal better than they were afforded on the grid.

Giving Alec a nudge, sufficient that Mr Clifford winced and thanked his lucky stars that he wasn't married to this frightful woman, Alec stepped up to the plate.

'So tell me again, I'm a little slow when it comes to understanding technical things. Are you saying that we can't just plug into the mains supply?' he asked Mr Clifford, who by then had explained that if they wanted his company to install as many lights as they'd suggested, which in his mind had turned their garden into the size of a football pitch and was going to be a very lucrative job could they capture it, that they'd need several generators or they'd blow their entire street. But in an effort to get the message over and leave no doubt in the minds of the two numskulls that were sitting in front of him, he'd added the national grid, and if that happened then they'd quite probably be arrested.

'Good gracious darling that would be dreadful,' replied Ros, in a voice that inferred that although she didn't have a clue what he was talking about, she was pretending that she did.

It took another well worth twenty minutes of side tracking before Tariq and Malcolm confirmed to Ros that they had the information that they needed, as a happy and patient Mr Clifford who by now had been assured that he was their man, had explained in words of one syllable, how the electricity that supplied power to the street lighting across London or more specifically along the Embankment was generated, or could be switched off in the case of an emergency.

'Thank you so much for showing us these, they've been most helpful, but we've kept you long enough we should be going,' Alec told their host, watching his face fall. Having produced diagrams from the filing cabinets behind his desk that he'd spread across the table, he was now getting into his stride, as were Tariq and Malcolm who were already well into their analysis.

'We'll be in touch,' cooed Ros, with a quick glance back, before tucking her hand back in the crook of Alec's arm and bundling him out of the building.


'Doghouse three, fifteen minutes,' she barked into her phone at Jo, who up until then, had been whiling away the time with Ben and John by leaning on the wall that breached the North Bank of the Thames, enjoying a coffee and watching the already packed pleasure boats wending their way up and down the river, creating a wave of foam in their wake.

The doghouse was in this case a disused underground car park, which to all intents and purposes given that it was within the Borough of Westminster should have been refurbished. In what was becoming an increasingly difficult financial climate across the globe, even the back streets of one of their capitals most salubrious boroughs wasn't immune to degeneration so it seemed.

'Malcolm we're here, can you hear us?' was followed by confirmation that he could and with a suggestion that produced a huge sigh of resignation from Jo.

'Given the timescale of the race and for maximum effect, we now have to assume that the attack will be staged between those two bridges,' he told them, as the plan of the embankment between Westminster and St. Paul's Cathedral appeared on Ros's phone, 'but just in case we're wrong, my suggestion would be that you ride the full length of the course again.'

'What if?' asked Ben, waiting for Ros to tell him that this was her decision, so lump it. He'd spent the previous day with an increasingly exhausted Jo and despite the fact that she was probably fitter than he was, she wasn't a cyclist. Another 26 miles, so soon after the last one and she'd probably end up hospitalised and Ros would be minus her section chief. If Jo wasn't prepared to say something, then he had to.

'Well go on then, we don't have all day.' Ros urged him.

'If we split ourselves into two teams and use John's mates to help us, we could cycle the course from both ends and meet in the middle, it would be a great time saver what do you think?' He suggested.

Ros looked to Alec for his reaction, knowing that a mistake or something missed at this late stage could prove catastrophic.

'Here,' she finally said,' handing over some money, 'buy a stack of energy bars and bottled water, round up the troops and make it absolutely clear to all of them that this is a matter of national security and that they have to be meticulous in their search. Any who want to opt out if they don't feel comfortable, they do it now, that's fine, there will be no comeback,' she assured them.

Should they find anything, then she or Ben were to call the grid and speak to Tariq who had the plans and would report to her and Alec, rounded off her instructions as she wished them good luck. She and Alec needed to get back to the grid to relieve Malcolm so that he could visit Harry and Ruth.

'Please tell me you don't think I've just made a huge mistake?' she asked Alec, as they stood and watched the others ride away.


When Ruth had opened her eyes an hour earlier, the infinitely steadier rise and fall of Harry's chest, had re affirmed how much she loved the man that was sleeping untroubled beside her. Complex and full of contrasts, but he was lovely and hers to the very depths of her soul. Too tired after the emotions of the day, her previous evening's ambition of a wild night of passion had been overtaken by exhaustion, as they'd adjusted to the new and much larger bed, with Harry telling her tales that were literally of the unexpected.

'Yes he is, did I imply otherwise?' had been Harry's response to Ruth's surprise that his father was still alive and kicking, before going on to explain to her that he'd gone back to Yorkshire after his mother had died and as far as he knew, was still creating havoc in a small village close to the coast. The reason that he'd never told her, was the same reason that he'd never told him about her. It was their security, pure and simple. He'd been terrified and still was that they'd be used against him and to his deep regret, in her case he'd been proved right hadn't he?

'You wait until you meet him,' had implied that over the past few weeks, Harry had not only been imagining a future with her, but that it also included a trip to meet his father. Soon after that though she must have fallen asleep, because that was as far as her memories had taken her until this morning, when Harry had opened his eyes and reeled her in.

His collection of expletives when interrupted was extensive, but in deference to Ruth and the situation that they were currently in, he went for 'please god not now,' rather than something more to the point. After what he'd groaned to her several moments earlier was the most exquisite sex that he'd ever had and god how he loved her, they were lying in bed, their minds completely blown and their faces mirrored in contentment, until the doorbell rang.

When he opened the front door, Malcolm was greeted by what was affectionately referred to on the grid as Harry's I want some good news face, although even Malcolm with his non experience when it came to what went on in the bedroom, could see that Ruth scurrying down the hallway behind Harry in the direction of the bathroom, meant that he was probably in for both barrels. Still needs must, Ros had sent him and he and Harry had to have that conversation, however difficult it might prove.

It had been many years since he and Harry had stood in that very same hallway and discussed the merits of using it as a safe house, long before Ruth had stumbled into his life and turned Harry's world and perception of achieving happiness on its head. It hardly seemed possible that he was back here now, in circumstances that would have seemed impossible in those days. Harry had melted, surrendered and finally accepted, what in Malcolm's opinion had all been down to chance, or had it?

As he followed Harry out into the garden, with the promise of a coffee as soon as Ruth had showered and changed, he knew better than to comment. This was theirs and far too beautiful for him to speculate.

The only way to approach the list and each individual on it was head on, tell it as it was, or is they decided, as Malcolm wrote down Connie James and Harry went back to the beginning and when he'd first met her. The only thing that Harry couldn't make a clear statement about because he'd never really known, was the nature of the relationship that she'd had with his friend Hugo Prince. He'd assumed that they'd been lovers, because Hugo had always implied that that's what he'd wanted and as it had been back in the cold war days when they'd all been adrenalin fuelled to the point where sex was the only release, he'd guessed rather than known. As far as he could remember, he and Hugo had spent most of their evenings chatting over a drink and as Hugo had died soon after they came home, maybe it hadn't happened and in some way Connie blamed him for that?

'I absolutely refuse to elaborate on my relationship with Juliet,' he told Malcolm, 'other than to say she's used it on more than one occasion to blackmail me into getting what she's wanted.'

Malcolm again said nothing, but duly wrote this down.

Zoe who had been living in Chile for the best part of five years was an entirely different kettle of fish and surely out of the frame. Malcolm knew that Harry had bent the rules spectacularly to get her out of the country, rather than face a long prison sentence, so why would she have any reason to conspire against him? It seemed unlikely and something on which they both agreed.

In Tessa's case he hadn't been so lenient. The moment that Zoe had confessed that she'd tried to bribe her with ten thousand pounds, to get her to hide the fact that she'd been accumulating a huge amount of money by inventing bogus assets, he'd unceremoniously got shot of her. There was certainly a link between her and Zoe, but only a tenuous one.

As for the others on the list, they were primarily the analysts that had followed Ruth's departure and had been dismissed or left because they'd borne the brunt of his grief and subsequent temper.

That pretty much brought them up to date and to the moment when Ruth arrived with their coffee, whether by design or not, Malcolm wasn't sure. It had been several weeks since he'd last seen her and he was about to relieve her of the tray that she was carrying, when Harry beat him to it, leaping to his feet, his whole body language changing and the stressed expression that had adorned his face during the time that they'd been talking about colleagues, gone. It was amazing this power that Ruth held over him that she clearly didn't recognise.

'I'll have my coffee and then leave you in peace, I need to get this back to Ros,' he suggested, until Ruth halted his progress by inviting him to stay for a while longer.

Whether or not he minded, it clearly didn't show up in Harry's expression, or when she suggested that if he didn't mind she'd quite like to take a look at what he'd written. 'You never know, I might be able to spot something you've missed,' she told them, without any motive other than to help. Having passed over the paper and accompanying notes they left her to concentrate without distraction, Harry suggesting that he and Malcolm head off down the garden, on the pretence of stretching their legs.

'Whatever she reads Harry, it won't change how she feels about you, you don't have to worry,' Malcolm told him, which included her not knowing until now, that Juliet Shaw had tried to blackmail him on numerous occasions.


Concentrate Ruth she told herself, smoothing out the pages in front of her, and after having taking a drink of tea and with a slice of toast in her other hand, she sat down and began to read, making notes on a separate piece of paper as she did so.

Anything prior to her arrival and since she'd been exiled she was taking extra time over. It was perhaps her one chance to make a difference, although as always, she couldn't quite reconcile herself to the fact that perhaps Juliet Shaw wasn't involved, especially now that she had evidence that she'd attempted to blackmail Harry. If she was capable of blackmail, then surely she was capable of anything? It was clear as the nose on her face that Juliet had known how she felt about Harry, so could Juliet be the reason that she'd reappeared on this list?

Connie, Tessa Phillips and an analyst called Andrea Robinson, none of whom she'd met, made up the rest. Connie she knew about, Tessa she didn't and it would mean asking Harry more questions. If Andrea had been sent back to GCHQ as Malcolm's notes suggested, then she would be easy to track down. She might be registered as dead, but she still had connections that she could approach.

There were just too many questions to which she didn't have an answer and as she looked up, Harry and Malcolm were walking back towards her, the uncertainty back in Harry's eyes. 'Bugger this,' she said louder than she intended, surely after what had happened this morning, he wasn't imagining that she'd be thrown by a past that was just that. Bull by the horns time Ruth, she decided, flashing him one of her most glorious smiles.

'Never in any doubt,' whispered Malcolm.


Leaving them alone to put their heads together and try and make some sense of what was going on, Malcolm headed into the kitchen to make lunch.

'Sandwiches it is then,' he'd said, when Harry pointed out that the fridge was almost empty and someone needed to get them some shopping. 'Make a list,' had come with a wry smile, 'hopefully easier to decipher that that one.'

'Juliet Harry. How well do you know her, professionally I mean?' started the conversation.

'Well she's always been ambitious and will go to any lengths to achieve it, much more so than me.'

'So who ended your relationship?'

'Neither of us, it just petered out. I've told you this before.'

'Yes I know you have, but not in this context,' she pressed him, 'She couldn't be holding a grudge of any sort or regrets that you haven't told me about?' She hoped didn't sound too much like an accusation.

'You should have been here when I was discussing this with Malcolm,' he told her.

'But I wasn't, and besides which, Malcolm doesn't know what I know about you and Juliet does he?'

Harry paused, Ruth waited. She needed to know that Juliet Shaw was history, anything else she could cope with. Harry finally said no.

'So not Juliet, we can eliminate her?' She breathed a sigh of relief and he nodded his head.

They moved on to Connie, who Harry was still struggling to believe had instigated him being branded a traitor, but then her behaviour told him otherwise. Ros had once told him that they were all motivated by his opinions and maybe now that she was section head, she was having the same influence.

'Could she have come into contact with Tessa at any time and where does she fit in?' asked Ruth, who was already one step ahead of where Harry had stalled.

'Well you replaced Tessa,' 'and Connie followed me and found out about you and I Harry,' Ruth finished the sentence for him, 'I'm the link in this Harry, that's why I'm on that list.'