"Close Protection"

Disclaimer – As usual I own nothing but a large amount of debt and a severe lack of talent. Certainly nothing to do with Skins, (which makes me very upset)

Authors Note – Thanks again for the kind words, sorry it's later than usual got caught up in my other story for some reason. Only go to this yesterday. I'm trying something new for me here, it's a little daunting...hope you like it.

Dunno if I should mention it, but perhaps a Ladyhawke inspired 'dark places' warning is in order, this isn't a totally happy chapter folks; but it is a necessary one I hope you'll agree.

Chapter 12 – Trapped in a Moment

The drive to St John's Wood was conducted in mostly silence, the driver of the car attempted to engage me in conversation a few times, but I was too busy looking for trouble to pay him any real attention; in fact he was beginning to bug me.

"So how long have you worked for the Fitch family?" He asked cheerily, taking his eyes off the road to look at me for the umpteenth time in the last ten minutes.

"I don't." I answered shortly, "and I'd appreciate it if you kept your eyes on the road and off my fucking tits."

"Well excuse me," he muttered indignantly finally fixing his eyes on the traffic in front of him.

I had already stopped listening to him, instead concentrating on a black Renault people carrier that had tailed us for the last few minutes. Suspicious aroused I adjusted the rear view mirror so that I could use it to keep it in view.

"Oi, stop that." the driver protested.

"Shut up and do as I tell you," I said quickly, watching as the Renault moved through the traffic keeping a careful pace with our car, four vehicles back. "Take a left as soon as you can and then keep turning left until we get back on this road again ok?"

" Yes fucking Ma'am, what did your last slave die of?"

"Do as your fucking told or pull over and I'll fucking drive ok?"

"Trouble?" came a quiet voice from the back of the car.

"Probably not, but after yesterday let's take no chances ok? Five minutes wasted here won't kill us, ignoring shit might."

"Do as she tells you Paul, don't argue with her."

"Yes Miss Fitch."

Miss Fitch went quiet again as the chastened driver followed my instructions to the letter. Sure enough the black Renault followed us around the first left turn, and the second but to my surprise carried straight on at the third.

Odd...certainly the driving was unusual.

I doubted it could be a coincidence that the car wanted to do a U-Turn at exactly the same time as us; more likely that they'd realised what we were doing and broke off the tail. Just in case I told the driver to avoid the main road and take us the back route to Miss Fitch's address.

"That'll take a lot longer," he'd complained.

"It'll be a lot safer," I'd said, ending the conversation there.

The rest of the trip passed uneventfully, I'd like to say that I had the chance to relax, but I was a hyped up as I had ever been when I was on patrol in 'Butlins'. I gave JJ a quick call as we got nearer and he confirmed that the flat and street were all clear; and it was with a brief sense of relief I told him that we were heading in.

o+o+o

Miss Fitch's flat was just as I expected it to be, neat and tidy and pretty much empty of anything that could tell me anything about her. In fact it's pretty much like the place I'm living in at the moment, practically a fucking show home. Even my room in the barracks had more life than this, and we were inspected on a regular basis.

There's literally nothing here, not even a photograph; at least I had a few pictures of the original gang in my old room, my favourite one being of us all in Basra, posing in our fatigues in front of a Land Rover just before we went out on patrol. I made a note to find that picture, make sure it wasn't lost in the boxes of stuff that I'd paid to put into long term storage before I left the Army. When I finally had my own place to put it all in that was, yet another thing to add to my list of 'things to do' find somewhere to live.

"Nice," I said as I stood in her living room and looked out of the window staring across the houses towards the floodlights of Lords that dominated the skyline a couple of streets over.

"It's ok," she replied, startling me somewhat that she was actually listening to me. "I'm never here really, I'm usually at the house or away on business. It's really just somewhere to put my clothes when I'm in town."

"Shame, seems like a nice area, convenient for the cricket."

"Yeah, it is. Shame I hate cricket though isn't it? Boring fucking sport."

I shrugged and dropped the subject. I thought it had been too good to last; that had been close to a polite conversation between us and shit, that would never do would it?

I heard her muttering to herself as she wandered around the flat, but my attention was drawn elsewhere. Pulling into the street opposite was a black people carrier, more specifically a black Renault with a licence plate that matched the one I'd made a note of earlier. I watched as it pulled into a space opposite the building and the rear window rolled down. I caught a flash of light reflecting off a piece of glass inside and I dived for cover.

"Miss Fitch get down on the floor wherever you are." I shouted, kicking myself for my carelessness. I crawled carefully over to the window and dragged across the curtain, obscuring the view from the sniper, waiting for the inevitable shots to come through the window. Shots that miraculously didn't come.

Taking a chance I got to my feet and ran into the hallway to find my charge; she was lying on the floor in the main bedroom and quickly I ran over and pulled the curtains tight shrouding us in darkness.

"Stay here and stay down ok?" I told her, checking the room to make sure she'd be safe in here. "I'm going to see what's going on."

I walked back into the living room and grabbed my phone from the side, as I stepped up to the window I put it on speaker and dialled my colleague outside.

"Hi Sarge, everything ok?"

"No LT it isn't, can you see a black people carrier outside?"

"Not from here Sarge," he confirmed, "you think there's a problem?"

"Not sure LT, I saw that black car behind us on the way here, but I thought we'd given it the slip, now it's back and it's just pulled up outside the building. I saw a lens flash from the rear, they were definitely pointing something at this window, but I couldn't see what. I'm exposed here JJ, if they've got someone on the rooftops we could be in trouble"

"Stay on the line Naomi, I'll do a walk past, where are they?"

"They're opposite the side entrance to the building, the one that looks towards the cricket ground." I chanced a look through a crack in the curtains, "they're still there now. Black Renault, registration plate is Kappa Foxtrot, Zero Niner, Papa Hotel Golf."

"Got it," I heard him say, "looking now."

"Be careful LT, don't give yourself away."

"No problems Naomi, I've learnt a few tricks from Cook over the last year."

I watched as his figure came into view on the footpath the car was parked on, phone pressed to his ear; a cocky, almost jaunty bounce to his walk, James Cook to the T.

"Yeah, so anyway I said, look honey if you're not prepared to put out, why the fuck have I been buying you drinks all night...yeah mate, that's what I thought, fucking cheek right...nah, dumped her like a hot rock and went and found some other slapper in the club, turned out all right as it happens...yeah mate you fucking know it, right little goer she was as well...too fucking right, first thing in the morning, you know the score mate, no number no regrets, no fucking child support..."

I listened as JJ talked shit down the phone to his imaginary friend and hoped for Effy's sake that wasn't how Cook really behaved. I saw him walk past the car and take a surreptitious glance inside as he did so. I followed his motions until he turned the corner and moved out of sight.

"Can't see a weapon Sarge, but they have got a long lens unit in the back. Didn't you mention that Rob Fitch had been sent surveillance photo's?"

"That's right LT, bloody good ones as well. You think these guys might be the same people?"

"Better safe than sorry Sarge, I'll get the office to call the Police, after yesterday they might be willing to do something this time. Stay tight, don't take any risks and assume the worst ok? Make sure Emily is safe!"

"Willco. Don't leave me hanging JJ, let me know what's going on ok?"

"Sure thing Naomi, stay off the phone just in case," he finished, the line going dead. I glanced out of the window once more and saw the lens flash again as I did so. Someone in that vehicle was watching this window carefully, far too carefully.

"Is everything ok Miss Campbell?"

Her voice drifted in faintly from the bedroom, well at least she was following my instructions again, at least she was sensible enough to realise I didn't fuck around.

"Not sure yet, stay put." I said, trying to keep my voice calm and relaxed. Carefully I walked around her tiny home, and closed curtains and blinds in all of the rooms, once again hiding the two of us from the outside world. Finally I pulled a chair in front of her door and barricaded it just in case, before joining her in the bedroom.

"What's happening?" she asked, "Are we in danger?"

"I have no idea Miss Fitch. We're waiting on the Police now."

"Police, why?"

So many fucking questions for someone so small, after all the silent treatment I guess it's nice; but honestly I wish she'd just shut up and let me do my job.

"There's a car outside, it looks like the one that I thought was following us earlier. I saw a flash from the back when I was looking at it and thought the worst. JJ says they've only got a camera inside and it looks like it's trained on your window. The office is calling the police just in case. We're vulnerable here, there are lots of high vantage points for snipers, and we haven't got an escape route other than the front door and the fire escape. I knew we should have come."

"I'm sorry," she said to me, her voice sounding genuinely upset, "this is my fault isn't it. If I hadn't been such a stubborn bitch about coming back here we wouldn't be in danger."

I felt sorry for her, again, it's been a tough period of time recently and I can tell she's struggling to adapt. She's quite obviously and quite naturally out of her depth, I can't fault her for that. Even though she's absolutely correct in her assumption, grudgingly, I decide to cut her some slack.

"It's not your fault Miss Fitch. Look, for that vehicle to get on our tail it must have picked up the car before we left the apartment; probably tracked it from the office to my place. Unless someone leaked where you were that is, then it would be even simpler to follow us, they'd just have watched you get in and tracked us to here. So it really doesn't matter if we came here, or went straight to your offices or drove to your home in the country, they would have still been able to follow us. Ok?"

She nodded and I was left to think about my words, it wasn't quite the truth, I hadn't seen the black Renault after we made the second left turn, hadn't seen any suspicious vehicles in fact and yet they had made it to her flat as if knowing we would be here. Somewhere in Fitch Industries they had a leak, or at the very least they had someone with a careless tongue. Just one more thing to think about if we did get the contract to look after their security.

"So what do we do now Naomi?"

I hesitated as, for the first time I can remember, she used my first name. It sounded so much nicer on her lips than 'Miss Campbell'. Somehow softer, less aggressive, less full of contempt.

"Well, we follow orders, sit tight and wait to hear from JJ I guess; not a lot else we can do really. You holding up ok?"

"I guess so, this is all so strange. I've never had anyone try to kill me before."

"We don't know that anyone is trying to kill you now Miss Fitch, this could all be nothing more than a surveillance operation, it could even be a big misunderstanding; I could just be paranoid, but I'm not taking any chances with your safety, not after what happened yesterday."

"I guess I owe you my thanks again Naomi…look about this morning...I didn't, well; I'm sorry, you were right, I was being unfair."

I shrugged, in truth a little uncomfortable under her gaze.

"Miss Fitch it doesn't matter, you've got your opinions and I guess you've got your own reasons for having them ok? If I'm being honest there's a lot of things in this world I'm not happy with, but I do my job as best I can and then I do my best to make a difference wherever I can."

"Like what?" she asked; presumably expecting me to launch into my life story.

"It's not important, some other time perhaps."

I got up from the floor and walked away from the question and away from her. I prowled around the flat, making a big play of checking that no-one was trying to enter, making sure everything was safe and that we couldn't be seen from outside. It was all totally unnecessary, we probably both knew that. But then I was never any good at sitting tight and doing nothing; and I'm not very good at small talk, especially small talk about me.

Eventually, however, with nothing else to pretend to do; I found myself sat back on the floor of the bedroom, her brown eyes staring at me through the gloom.

"I'm sorry if I offended you Miss Campbell, Kay tells me I'm a nosey bitch sometimes."

"Kay?" I asked, the file hadn't mentioned a Kay.

"My sister Katie," she continued, "she says I'm too inquisitive, always looking for answers. It's interesting really because out of the two of us she's the one that thrives on gossip. She rings me up to tell me the latest scandals in her little circle of friends, like I'm fucking interested in who's shagging whom; I don't even know half of the people she tells me about. Anyway, I'm sorry if I offended you before."

"No matter, I just don't like being confined that's all, freaks me out."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be, it's not like it's your fault."

We lapsed into silence, albeit an awkward, uncomfortable one. Despite this, part of me is enjoying being in the room with her. When she's not being a total fucking bitch she's actually quite nice to be around; after all, she's not exactly hard on the eyes. The other parts of me, the more sensible, professional parts, are terrified of what that might mean.

"So why do you do this Naomi?" she asked, surprising me again with her sudden need for conversation.

"Do what?"

"This...protect people; put yourself in danger for people like me, people you don't even like."

I chuckled quietly to myself, 'You think I don't like you? Oh Emily, if only you knew.'

I pushed that betraying thought to the back of my head and concentrated on the original question.

"Well, it's what I'm trained for, about all I'm good for actually. If I wasn't doing this I guess I'd be back living on the streets."

"Back on the streets," she said incredulously, "have you been homeless before?"

"Miss Fitch after I got kicked out of the Army I spent weeks living anywhere I could; I slept on sofa's, on floors, eventually I ended up on the streets. I got this gig a couple of days ago after I bumped into the LT."

I laughed at my own fucked up life, not knowing why I was sharing this with her.

"In fact you're my first contract in the private sector, the first person I've had to personally protect. The best of it is I bet we're not even getting paid for it. Your father well and truly stitched me up you know?"

"Yeah he does that," she replied sadly. "He does that a lot; gets you to do things that you don't really want to do. Kind of wraps you up with words until you've got no way of saying no."

"Exactly!" I said to her, feeling that she had succinctly described what happened in that last meeting.

"So why did you do it in the Army, protect people that is?"

I thought about it for a minute, there were lots of reasons really, many of them far too complex for me to explain; certainly to a stranger in a dark bedroom. But for some unexplained reason I felt like I wanted to share them with her. She was one person I felt that I didn't want to run from.

Mentally I slapped myself, 'get a grip Naomi, she's just a package, remember that.' I fought hard to hold onto my reticence, to keep myself to myself.

"It was better than arresting drunken squaddies in German bars." I said finally, avoiding the truth, running despite myself.

"Oh."

We fell back into that awkward silence. "What about you?" I ventured finally, "Why do you do what you do Miss Fitch?"

"Dad." she said simply and left it at that. I'm not stupid, I can put two and two together, so I left it too.

As we sat in silence I thought about Emily Fitch, there's definitely two sides to her, there's the "daddy's girl" the spoilt, obnoxious mouthy brat and there's the "quiet one" the one that sits in a dark room and asks meaningful questions and talks to me like I'm a human being.

She's an enigma, I was absolutely right about that one. An enigma that I'd like to unravel, but I can't, mustn't... shouldn't.

Fortunately for me, my little enigma had decided to lose herself in her own thoughts and there was no further conversation between us. To be honest it was a relief, I'd come dangerously close to sharing parts of myself with her and that's something I just don't do. Even Amy hadn't got that close to me; this girl is scaring the shit out of me and I've only known her five minutes. I wish she'd go back to being the bitch, I knew how to handle her.

Emily Fitch, I decided, is like an unexploded shell; generally safe to leave alone, ideally you should leave her to the experts; but if you had to deal with it you needed to tread carefully. Unexploded rounds can lie dormant for years, or they could explode at the slightest breath. That's what she's like, that's what I can't handle.

"Do you like what you do?" she asked me, shattering the silence once more with that glorious voice.

"Well, even with my limited experience of private work I can safely say it's an interesting role."

Her head snapped up and I could feel her staring at me, "What makes you say that?"

"Well on my interview I was attacked by three blokes, one of whom was a test set up by Cook. Then on my first proper day at work I end up getting shot at. Now today we've been followed and I'm sat in a dark bedroom hoping the people outside only have cameras and don't have guns."

"Eventful." she said, a mocking laugh in her voice.

"Yeah, I at least in the Army it took me eight months before someone tried to kill me. I don't know what I did to win this particular popularity contest."

Miss Fitch snorted at my sarcasm, "You shouldn't build yourself up Miss Campbell, after all it's not like they were actually trying to kill you. I seem to remember that I'm the one being targeted."

The mood changed again as the reality of her situation seemed to crash down on her again, her voice breaking at her final words. I could hear her sniffing quietly and I could only assume that she was crying again.

"Are you ok over there Miss Fitch?"

"Not really, it's all a bit much you know? How do you cope with it Naomi, how do you cope with the constant fear?"

"Fear of what Miss Fitch, being killed?"

"Of course being killed," she snapped angrily, "what the fuck else would I be talking about? There are people out there that want to kill me and I'm not sure I can fucking cope with that, what the fuck am I supposed to do?"

Her tears were falling freely now, I could see the pain etched on her face through the darkness as she sat by the bed, arms wrapped around her knees. Embarrassed, I moved across the room and sat next to her, patting her knee in my best, "concerned friend" manner.

"What you're supposed to do, Miss Fitch, is carry on your life as best you can, whilst taking precautions to make sure you don't make things easy for them until they're caught, or they go away. That's all you can do."

"But how do you deal with the fear? How do you make it go away?"

There's the million dollar question, but it's one I've had to deal with many times over the years. It seemed like every time we had a new recruit come out to the desert I would have to talk to them about dealing with the fear, dealing with the constant gnawing dread that your life would be over in a second. It got to the point where Captain McClair and some of the other lads would just tap me on the shoulder, point me in the direction of a rookie and say one word, "speech," and I'd know exactly what I had to do.

I've no idea if it would work here, work with a scared woman in a London flat but I know I've got to give it a go. As scared as I am about getting close to her, she needs someone to do this for her and at the moment there's no one here but me.

"Well, for starters that's a myth, the whole making fear go away business. The truth is you don't; not really. It's ok to be scared Miss Fitch; it's perfectly normal, as long as you don't give in to it. When you give in to the fear and let it dominate your life that's when you might as well give up, put a gun to your head and end it yourself; put yourself out of the misery. You asked me what are you supposed to do? Well what I did, what everyone else does is accept the fear, embrace it, channel it, use it to keep you alive.

Life's too short to live in fear Miss Fitch, and you're a long time dead. You need to embrace life and embrace the fear, because ultimately it's that fear that will keep you alive. It'll keep you on your toes and make you better at spotting danger."

Embrace life, oh yeah; because I've been so good at doing that haven't I? I've told so many people to go out and live their lives to the maximum and yet I've never been capable of doing it for myself; not really.

I've spent so long now living a life empty of friendships, of closeness that I'm not sure if there's really another way for me. I've spent years kidding myself that the parties, the drinking, the lack of commitment, the whole 'happy go fucking-lucky' attitude was my way of living that free life; in truth it was little more than a cage that I shut myself away in, to prevent myself experiencing the pain of losing someone you love all over again. I learnt that lesson on the cold streets of London.

"But that's all right for you," she practically shouted at me; dragging me out of my morose thoughts. "You've been trained to deal with it, you've been taught how to handle the fear, how to handle the danger…I haven't. I don't know how; Naomi I'm fucking terrified."

I sighed, leaning back onto the bed as she clung to me; it always came down to something like that, even JJ had thought the same way when he was green, believing that fear was something he should have been trained in, believing that it was something you could analyse, assess, understand, then put to one side and forget about.

Slowly I wrapped my arm around her shaking shoulders and made my decision, she needed me to give her something that would help her through her fear. I took a deep breath in and did something I've never done before, not for anyone, I shared a little part of me.

"Miss Fitch, at the risk of sounding corny, let me tell you a story. My first proper operational tour with the Military Police was in Basra. Now I don't know what you know about the situation there after the war, but I can tell you it wasn't a picnic. Our base would be attacked at least twice a week and we came under fire on every other patrol. I'd only been in the Army for eight months, I wasn't even nineteen when I landed. I'd done my basic training, my legal exams and a short stint in Germany; then before I knew it we had been shipped to Iraq as a operational support unit. I'd only been there two days when we came under mortar fire. The tent I'd been in five minutes before took a direct hit and the foxhole I was in got rained on by the dirt and the shrapnel. The only thought that went through my head for next two days was that I could have been in there, it could have been my time to die. I wasn't even nineteen Miss Fitch and I could have been dead right there and then, snuffed out of existence with no one to mourn my passing.

I was so afraid that I spent those two days in some kind of mental coma; I was pretty much just going through the motions; until my Sergeant took me to one side, gave me a slap and told me what I've just told you. I've lived in fear every day since then, every day it's there in one form or another; it doesn't go away. It's not about training Miss Fitch, its not about being a soldier or being a civilian it's about your attitude."

"But how can you say that, I've met people like you, you're all so confident, so calm. Look at yesterday, I just lay there shitting myself on the back seat of your car and you were just so fucking cool up front; you acted like being shot at wasn't anything to be scared of. How can you do things like that if you're scared?"

"That's where the training comes in Miss Fitch," I said softly, trying to make her understand, trying to give her an insight into the true face of war. "You do what you've been trained to do, the fear goes away when you're in danger like that, the training takes over. It comes back though, it always comes back; it's the one constant in a soldiers life, eventually you just accept it for what it is, it becomes a part of you; you pull it on in the morning with your clothes. If you could have seen me properly on the journey home you'd have seen my hands were shaking. It was touch and go yesterday Miss Fitch, I don't mind telling you I was fucking scared myself."

"I don't get it, how can you do what you do knowing that you might die? How can you be that brave?"

"Miss Fitch, all of us live with the knowledge that we are going to die every single day, but we put it to one side and go on with our lives and see what tomorrow will bring. Some people aren't as lucky as us. Some people know that they're going to die, they know when they're going to die and they know they're going to die in pain. They have that sentence handed to them by someone with a friendly face and a white fucking coat and they have to deal with that; that's bravery Miss Fitch, they're the really brave ones.

Those people have to live with that knowledge every fucking day of their lives and yet they still go on. They try to live their lives to the maximum knowing that every day might be their last. They do everything they can to stop their families hurting from the pain of their loss; to stop the people around them becoming hollow shells. They smile through the pain and the hopelessness of it all to make it right for the people they love. That's fucking bravery Miss Fitch, that's being a hero."

I felt a lone tear make its way from the corner of my eye to drip onto my jacket, lost instantly in the material; a dark stain the only thing left to mark its fleeting existence. I was glad of the darkness to hide it from sight.

"You'll deal with the fear you have because you have to Miss Fitch; you'll deal with it because if you don't your life might as well be over and they've won. You'll become one of those hollow shells that's just walking around afraid of everything and afraid of everyone. Living an empty life because they can't put it behind them and living one day to the next wondering when the end will finally come."

I got up from the floor once more and put my hand on her shoulder, terrified of the movement, but more terrified of the closeness, the familiarity that I was feeling in her presence.

"You'll deal with it Miss Fitch because I can't see you doing anything else, you're a fighter I can tell that…and if you need time to realise that I'll do my best to keep you safe for as long as you want me around; after that, well…"

I left her alone in the dark, alone with her thoughts. I hoped that I'd been able to help a little, doubted that I'd succeeded. It's a different world out here, the things I know and understand don't really apply in civilian life, not all of them anyway.

"Naomi?" I heard from behind me as I reached the dark doorway. I paused and waited, taking a deep breath; scared of what she might ask, scared that I might have to tell her the truth.

"Who did you lose Naomi? Who was it that made you think like that?"

I thought of them all, all of those faces that haunted my dreams, Whitey, Freds, Langdon, everyone that I'd lost along the way; in the end it was only ever one face that came to my mind, and it's not something I'll ever be able to lie about.

"The only person that ever loved me for who I am Miss Fitch; the only person I've ever managed to love back."

o+o+o

I spent the next fifteen minutes avoiding her, which wasn't easy in such a small flat. I'd broken the silence only to tell her it was safe to use the bathroom, as long as she didn't turn on a light or open the blinds. I stood motionless on stag duty, peering carefully through the crack in the curtain; watching the vehicle below, hidden by the shadows. Finally my phone rang again, cutting through the atmosphere that had built since our frank little talk. When I saw who it was I swiped at the screen to answer it and let rip.

"JJ, fucking hell! I asked you not to leave me hanging for fucks sake, what the fuck is going on?"

I wasn't so much angry at him, but angry at the situation he'd left me in. I was feeling burnt, stung by the re-opening of the festering wound that had never quite healed, trapped in that endless moment where you're forced to examine your own life and you find there's not a lot to like.

"Easy Sarge, we've had a bit of trouble arranging the ARU that's all. Can you get Emily ready to move quickly? The police are ready to move in now."

"What do you want me to do JJ," I asked somewhat mollified at his answer, my professional training kicking in.

"We're about to check your stairwell, make sure it's safe to move you both. If it is I'll send you a text and then when you hear us knocking get out as quickly as you can. There are officers here to escort you down and a police car waiting at the bottom. The plan is the two of you will get in and they'll take you straight to the headquarters of Fitch Industries; we've got a couple of our guys sorting out the security on the place now, and there are people waiting for your arrival."

"Text, down stairs, police car, Fitch Industries, got it LT."

I summarised the plan as quickly as I could, confirming that I understood what he needed me to do. When the red flag goes down there's no time to fuck about; the less time spent asking stupid questions, the more time we had to execute the plan.

"Right, good luck Sarge, see you on the other side."

"Gotcha LT, and sorry ok?"

"No problems Naomi. Take it easy."

"Yeah, slow and low LT."

"Low and slow Sarge."

Sure enough, five minutes later I received a text that just said 'Now'. I'd already briefed Miss Fitch on the plan; and once we heard the knock we were already out of the door and heading down the stairs, the two ARU officers in full body armour carrying their MP5's were a welcome sight as we headed into the hallway.

I'm glad Miss Fitch is in such good shape because she makes the two flights of stairs at top speed without missing a step or breaking a sweat, and within seconds of opening the door we're ushered into the back of a police car by the coppers and sent on our way; I can hear the screaming of sirens as, I assumed, the rest of the unit swooped in on the unsuspecting targets. As we sped from the scene I could feel my heart racing as the adrenaline pumped once more; only calming myself down as we drove further into the City, and closer to the headquarters of Fitch Industries.

As operations go it had been swift and effective, once the police finally got there that was. Forty minutes we'd lost spent confined in that seemingly endless moment. Forty minutes I'd spent trapped with Miss Fitch with no means of escape; and a small part of me wished it had been forty minutes more.

o+o+o

I listened carefully to the police radio as we drove through the streets of the City, glad that the flashing lights and occasional bursts of siren meant that we didn't have to sit in the traffic chaos that was London. By the sounds of things the occupants of the car had been swiftly apprehended by the armed police unit and had been taken away for questioning; there had been no mention of any weapons being found.

Worst case scenario was that it was another recon team as JJ and I suspected; but I still couldn't help but wonder how they knew where she was staying, or what car she would be travelling in.

Curious, and somewhat worrying.

As we pulled into the underground car park that served the offices of Fitch Industries were met by none other than Rob Fitch himself, and stood next to him looking like the cat that had got the cream was James Cook.

"Emsy love, are you all right?" Rob asked as she got out of the car pulling her into a hug. "I was so worried about you, thank heavens for Naomi and her quick thinking."

"I'm fine daddy," she said, suddenly back in her alternate form, sounding so different to the woman I'd spoken to in the darkness of her flat. "Can we just go upstairs, I'm sure our guests from India won't want to be kept waiting any longer than they have to be."

Without even a backwards glance she set off with Rob towards the brightly lit lifts, her mask held firmly in place. Smiling to myself I fell into step with Cook behind them.

"Interesting morning Blondie, seems you have a knack for finding yourself in trouble."

I gave him a sidelong glance, "I need to talk to you about that Mr Cook, I'm just a little bit concerned about how easily they picked us up; I think Fitch Industries might have a leak."

"Oh they have a leak all right Naomi, since about ten past nine this morning your face has been plastered all over the news channels. That picture of you in your dress uniform is quite a good one you know?"

I stopped dead in my tracks and looked at him disbelievingly. "Please Mr Cook, tell me you're having a fucking laugh."

He laughed that filthy little laugh of his and looked at me. "Seriously Blondie, you're famous. The channels are even broadcasting footage of you trying to evade the gunmen yesterday; the wonders of the mobile phone generation eh? It's all over the news babe. I've even had to send our PR people along to handle the press on your behalf."

I groaned, this was becoming a fucking nightmare. Cook wrapped his arm around my shoulders and squeezed me tight,

"Come on then Naomi, you can't leave your fans waiting, there are lots of people that want to speak to you."

'Fucking Hell'

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A/N – Not wanting to upset anyone in there, sorry if I did. It was necessary ok, I hope you'll understand as time goes on.