Apologies to those missing Jane but I thought it was time Harry went to his meeting with Towers.

Home Office . 3.30pm

It wasn't Harry's normal policy to apologise to politicians. As far as he was concerned massaging their already overinflated egos was not part of his job description. Neither did he consider it good practice to encourage the pompous windbags in the mistaken belief that they knew what they were talking about or that their opinions actually mattered anyway. On this occasion however Harry deemed it wise to feign some sorrow, he had after all delayed an urgently requested meeting and he was well aware that without Towers' stanch support he'd have been unceremoniously kicked into retirement.

His attempt to express a wholly false contrition was interrupted by Towers stating, "No need Harry, Miss Watts explained that you were held up by an enquiry into the provenance of last night's bomb."

Making a mental note to thank Erin for smoothing down the Home Secretary Harry sank wearily into his usual seat. As he settled himself Towers thrust a tumbler of whisky in his direction.

"Some nectar of the grain Harry. You look as if you could use something stronger than Earl Grey."

This, Towers thought, as he scrutinised Harry's appearance was an understatement. The last time he'd seen Harry look so exhausted and drawn was when he'd visited him at his home a few days before Ruth's funeral. Towers' ostensible excuse had been that he wanted to personally confirm the cancellation of Harry's extradition order and the lifting of the accompanying house arrest imposed while the events surrounding the death of Jim Coaver had been reinvestigated. His real purpose had been to offer unspoken condolences and support to a man who, despite their several differences, he respected. Towers had been warned when taking office that Harry was a maverick; a loose cannon who, most damningly of all, failed to give his superiors the reverence appropriate to their positions. While the experience of working with Harry had confirmed the truth of each and every one of those assertions Towers was also of the opinion that the Service was unlikely to ever again possess such a dedicated servant and for that alone Harry should be honoured.

Harry fingered the glass with gratitude, the peaty aroma penetrating his nostrils reminding him that possibly that his most worthwhile contribution to the ship of state had been to encourage the Home Office management to invest in a passable malt. He remembered the first time he'd unwisely accepted a dram in this very office. As a paint stripper he might have respected it, to have heard it described as whisky had counted in his book as blasphemy. Over the years he'd gradually educated the various incumbents of Tower's chair, mainly by ensuring that they had been offered a decent swallow whenever they visited the Grid, much as he'd begrudged it on occasions. Would he have found the murdering of Blake less painful had he not been forced to doctor a bottle of expensive Ardberg in the process? Ros, bomb, Blake, Nightingale, Ruth, Coaver, Elena, deception, death, murder, betrayal, guilt. His past was littered like a Scrabble board of doom with one fateful word leading onto the tragic next. He was recalled into reality by Towers' voice setting out his agenda. Harry gave himself a gentle shake; he really must stop allowing his thoughts to drift into the ever present past.

"A few minor points first Harry, and I'm sure you'll have replies to them." After several months of dealing with the man on the opposite side of the desk Towers was damn sure of that. "Debra Langham has been complaining that you've not replaced Ruth Evershed. Particularly since Calum Reed was promoted to a more Senior Grade at the last review." Towers felt it behoved him to tread warily as he asked with trepidation, "I don't need to spell it out do I?"

Towers didn't, Harry knew exactly what was being whispered by the Human Resources Department and he deeply resented being forced to justify himself. It was therefore with more than a touch of irascibility that he stated, "Calum's promotion reflected his increased work load as a result of the Olympics and that is independent of the tasks I would expect my Senior Analyst to undertake. I have no problem with the idea of replacing Ruth, her transfer to your department meant that I would have had to make a new appointment anyway and I freely admit that I have no suitable internal candidate for the post."

Towers could only guess at the effort that it cost Harry to say this. The gap between replacing a living breathing Ruth and a dead one was considerable in emotional terms, even if Harry chose to perpetuate the myth that he didn't do personal. Towers was struggling to find a suitable reply that bypassed the anodyne when Harry in a brisk businesslike tone continued,

"I know what is being said: that I can't bear to replace Ruth. But I would never jeopardise the safety of my section or the country for that reason and I find the implication offensive. Perhaps Miss Langham should be reminded that I've tried to appoint three times? On each occasion I have agreed to trial, on probation, an individual she recommended as an ideal candidate."

Towers began to wonder if he could emulate Salome and demand the head of the HR supremo on a platter. On second thoughts not even for the sake of placating Harry was he going to attempt the dance of the seven veils.

Harry's contempt for the Head of Human Resources' judgement continued to snap through every syllable. "The first woman lasted three days before she started having nightmares about the videos and pictures she had to trawl through. Either she or Ms Langham seemed to be under the impression that MI5 is an adult version of Jackanory."

Harry took a sip of his Scotch, mmm whoever bought this one was a connoisseur. As the whisky slowly warmed his taste buds so Harry increasingly warmed to his theme of Debra Langham's total incompetence.

"The next woman I was assured was an expert. I delegated the task of assessing her to Erin Watts which was fortunate since as a mere male I was not biologically equipped to assess her particular area of knowledge. According to Erin the only extensive Intel she produced was on the specialist subject of her PMT, relationship problems and social life." Harry took a deep breath before continuing his diatribe, "She also failed to appreciate that MI5 is not nine to five. Terrorists, drug barons and the general scum we deal with do not keep office hours and we can't wait for our analyst to sober up because she's been drowning her sorrows."

Towers looked somewhat pointedly at Harry's generous and now nearly consumed measure of Scotch before inclining his head sympathically. He'd raised the subject with Harry as a formality. He'd already known most of this from Erin who'd agreed with every word Harry had just uttered. Indeed she'd been even more scathing on the subject of the PMT woman. "Section D espouses the principle of equality. The women in this department would not tolerate men talking to all and sundry about their erectile dysfunction problems or their difficulties in getting laid. As Section Head I therefore see no reason why the male staff should be required to listen to women discussing their problems, biological or social.' Towers lips quirked slightly in recollection, Erin had been parachuted into Section D without Harry's consent. When Harry had been reinstated after Albany he'd wondered how they would deal together; the young fast tracked female and the old school boss. He shouldn't have worried, despite the disparity in age and gender they were clearly birds of a feather: a pair of swooping raptors defending the State. His fleeting smile vanished rapidly with Harry's next words.

"As for the most recent candidate. I assume that you've not forgotten your visit to the Palace to apologise."

Towers closed his eyes briefly. That incident still gave him nightmares. As the government front man it could have destroyed his career. Every time he recalled the event he felt vindicated in the efforts he'd taken to rescue Harry from clutches of the CIA. He doubted whether anyone else could have engineered such a skilful cover up.

A few weeks previously the probationary analyst had picked up some dubious chatter. Harry, Dimitri and Erin had all been absent from the Grid at the time. Harry trapped in an interminable high level security meeting concerning the Olympics while Erin and Dimitri were out and about chasing assets. The newest staff member having taken exception to Calum's jokey personality had decided that he was not worthy of consultation. As a result she'd overridden all the Grid procedures and activated the protocol to evacuate Buckingham Palace on the grounds that it was subject to an immediate terrorist attack. Luckily Calum, having overheard the telephone call to CO19, had demanded her data. His speedy trawl of the Internet had traced the origin of the messages back to a trio of disgruntled Manchester United fans facebooking threats to raid Beckingham Palace. Calum had managed to trigger an emergency code that had pulled Harry out of his meeting and by means known only to God and Sir Harry, - on occasions Towers wondered if the two weren't interchangeable - the blame for the whole affair had been allocated elsewhere. To be exact the responsibility had been shuffled, quite literally, onto crossed wires caused by the faulty workmanship of whichever dodgy outfit had most recently incurred the Pearce wrath. The appointment of this guilty concern had then been conveniently traced to bribes solicited by a disgraced member of the previous administration under investigation for fraud. That the MP concerned had been unwise enough to call for greater government control over the Security Services was, of course, purely coincidental. Harry, while protecting Towers, had forthrightly declined to send CO19 to protect the realm's sporting icon. "I think Mr Golden Balls has made enough advertising underwear to fund his other undercover needs." Concerned with limiting the damage to his own position Towers had never enquired about the ultimate fate of the transgressor. Rumour had it that the atomised remains had been scraped from the floor of Harry's office and removed on a stretcher to Tring where they currently making a slow recovery courtesy of tea, tranquillisers and therapeutic macramé.

Harry seeing Towers nod relented slightly. "I'm assuming that somewhere a suitable candidate exists." Time for another swipe at Debra Langham, "I've asked to see the CVs of the next round of candidates. I want to pre vet them myself. In the meantime to help with the extra workload I've arranged for one of our ex staff to return on a short contract for a few months."

"Who?"

"Malcolm Wynne Jones. He retired two years ago after a long career with Section D. His mother died recently and he's willing to work at normal staff rates, not over the top consultant fees." Towers winced inwardly, recent press coverage on the cost of the Home Office's special advisers had been less than flattering. "You've met him." Harry paused as he added, "He did a reading at Ruth's funeral."

Towers considered the advantages of this proposal. Erin had admitted to worries about being unable to reach Harry emotionally, maybe this Malcolm could do so. He was the same generation as Harry, his presence on the Grid might be beneficial. Towers foraging in his memory remembered him as a quiet courteous man, clearly shaken by Ruth's death, who, while making no effort to converse at length, had just sat very patiently with a silently grieving Harry displaying the concern of simple friendship.

"Very well Harry. To move on, I've also had some falsetto voiced hermaphrodite complaining that 'Darling Dimitri is thwarting my efforts to revitalise the glorious Bard.' I'm sure Dimitri has sound reasons for his stance but at present he's holding up the final planning with only a couple of days or so to go. Also in view of the event profile the DG has also requested your attendance at the evening."

Harry ignored that last sentence as he snorted, "Dimitri's alma mater was the SBS not the RSC, so unsurprisingly he has difficulty with theatrical types referring to him as darling, particularly when they're allegedly male. He's taking a temporary trouble shooter with him tomorrow and I've every confidence that the matter will be resolved." 'Anyone calling Jane darling had better check first that a spear isn't within her grabbing range or it'll be more that the bard who'll need revitalising.'

Towers began to wonder if he'd ever catch Harry at a disadvantage as he enquired curiously "Who've you magiced up this time?"

"My ex-wife."

Towers cast his eyes ceilingward as he searched for the bolt of lightning. While Harry's private life lived up to that billing, his relationship with Ruth blown apart only after the Albany affair, even Towers was aware that Harry's usual contact with his family would strain the skills of a UN peacekeeping force. His Head of Counter Terrorism's next words almost sent Towers jaw thudding to his desk.

"She's staying with me at present. Last night's bomb..." Harry's extended explanation was interrupted by a confused Towers saying, "Yes I remember Miss Watts mentioning that as the reason for your putting back this meeting. I don't quite see..."

Ah, so Erin had only given Towers a vague outline of the previous evening's events, time to enlighten him further then.

"The property bombed was my daughter's flat. Jane was nearly killed. I've persuaded her to stay with me until we find out where our daughter is. Jane is an excellent English teacher and was visiting London to attend the Reception in a professional capacity. She won't be doing so now that our daughter is missing. Which is why I'll also be unable to attend, I can't leave Jane sitting on her own worrying while I party."

Harry wasn't quite sure he believed what he'd just said. Even as he made this statement he had a vision of Jane's probable glare of astonishment at his late flowering change of priorities. Sitting on her own and worrying had been her default activity throughout their marriage. How and why had the tectonic plates that formed the foundation of his world shifted so drastically within twenty four hours?

Towers needed to check that he'd understood the implication of Harry's words, "Er, you mean?"

"Catherine's missing and we don't know why. It may be to do with the CIA's recent threats to kidnap me but as our daughter, who works under her mother's maiden name of Townsend, is a maker of controversial documentaries it could also be to do with her work. She's made a few enemies."

Obviously a family trait Towers decided, but the name stirred a recollection. For the second time in ten minutes he was forcibly reliving an embarrassing experience "Yes, now I remember why I'd heard her name before."

So, looking at Towers wry face, did Harry. The film for which Catherine had received her award had been a powerful piece on the issue of teenage girls and forced marriage. Its conclusion had been unreservedly critical of government policy which, although couched in rather more elegant phraseology, had been summed up on the soundtrack as 'don't rock the boat and stuff the welfare of a few women in England while we pander to the extremists.' For once Harry had agreed wholeheartedly with his daughter's point of view, while wishing that occasionally she'd recognise that most of the world presented in the monochrome tint of dirty grey rather than her preferred shades of black and white. However the fact remained that her outspoken effort had been responsible for Towers facing some tough questioning in the House.

Suddenly Towers smiled enjoying Harry's slightly startled look. Bingo, he'd confounded Harry. "It gave me a bad time but my opposite number had even more problems. If he condemned the film he had the feminists on their back, if he approved of it their multi cultural agenda was in trouble. I enjoyed seeing him squirm in a no win situation."

Sadly Towers couldn't enjoy his triumph for long. The main matter of the meeting was approaching, the need to tick Harry off, not a prospect Towers was relishing. Nerving himself to the effort he just about managed to avoid asking Harry if he was sitting comfortably before he began.

"Now Harry the main issue I needed to discuss was the report on inter agency cooperation which I understand has been stuck on your desk for several weeks. The Americans are getting twitchy and the DG would like to wrap it up and get the agreement signed."

Harry had been expecting to be called to account for this any time during the past fortnight, thank goodness he'd been checking the fine print before last night's phone call had disrupted his life. He knew what he had to say was important, even vital for the future of the Security Staff but at this precise moment he was seriously annoyed at being dragged away from the more immediate effort of discovering what had become of his daughter. It was therefore with some asperity that he asked a question to which he already knew the answer. "Has the DG seen paragraph 6, 7 and 9 in the last appendix that the Cousins sent over to be included in the report? I've had calls from my opposite numbers in European countries expressing concern." Towers looked puzzled as Harry continued.

"I'm not a lawyer but if I read it correctly what in précis these addendums are including is a binding commitment that if the Cousins have even the vaguest suspicion of anyone they will get a no questions asked extradition. Further to that once an extradited person has passed into American hands they will become an honorary American citizen for the time they are in the country, but minus any accompanying rights. Since they will not be considered a foreign national their country of origin will therefore be deprived of any right to question their treatment, charges etc."

Towers considered the possibility that April's Fool Day had arrived early. Then he remembered it was now well past noon in a late autumn day and concluded that Harry was in deadly earnest. An aghast Towers gulped, "Harry you aren't making this up?"

"You can read it yourself. It's dressed up in convoluted sentences and obviously sneaked in. But that is not the only issue."

Towers stared gravely; did Harry really mean that this got worse?

"Once signed this will be retrospective back to 9/11. Anyone whom the Americans suspect of acting against their national interest, which is conveniently defined as the interest of the free world, can be lifted. Furthermore it will be incumbent on the UK to act as a bridge and request the extradition from other countries that may refuse a direct request from the CIA and then hand them over to the Cousins immediately without question. That's what my opposite numbers are concerned about. Needless to say the arrangements aren't reciprocal, Uncle Sam feels obliged to protect his own citizens from possible reprisal attacks which the Americans argue are more likely to occur in Europe due to the open borders policy."

Yes, Towers thought, it did get worse. Considering the immediate implications he focussed on the first part of Harry's speech. "But Harry that would mean the CIA would want you again. They're nearly as fond of you as I am. They've made it clear that they never thought Elena committed suicide."

Actually Towers hadn't bought into that one either but he had long since decided that, like the identity of the euphuistically described private contractor employed in the removal of Levrov, there were some questions he didn't want to ask. Accessory after the fact would be an inglorious end to his career. Harry's face bore all the flexibility of a mummer's mask. What, Towers wondered, was going on behind it?

"I know. But even they drew short of accusing Ilya of lying when he'd just lost his wife."

Harry's thoughts were flying backwards, running though the events of that day in the few seconds before he continued his dialogue with Towers.

The horrendous sight of a bloodsoaked Ruth lying dead, of his kissing of her as he sobbed aloud, encased in a bubble of grief, only vaguely aware of the events around him. Of this trancelike hypnotic state suddenly punctured by the sight of Ilya rushing towards them. Of Sasha lying wounded and screaming with pain. Of himself jerked back into an awareness of his surroundings seeing his own guilt and sorrow eerily mirrored on Ilya's very different features. The expression on Ilya's face as he turned towards Harry. The sudden stillness as two old adversaries suddenly looked at each other appraisingly. The weird sense of a switch being flicked in their mutual brains as these two men, both servants of their state, bereaved and crying had one thought; not of the women they'd loved lying dead, not even of Sasha injured and mentally destroyed. Their joint perception dawning that if they took no action Levrov and the CIA would have succeeded in destroying the partnership; the very partnership that had revealed so many past deceptions and ultimately led to their separate but mingled personal tragedies. Of them staring at each other and realising that the agreement that had to be retained whatever the personal cost; its survival the only possible justification for that cost.

Harry pushed down the memories of their subsequent actions. He still felt sick whenever he thought about them – did Ilya suffer in the same way? The ultimate proof that that they were abnormal; emotionally damaged. For Harry his later commissioning of Tom Quinn to avenge Ruth had become a simple going through the motions. He'd never forgive himself for how he'd behaved at that, the most tragic crisis in his life. Towers, he noticed, was waiting for him to continue. As was now his habit he suppressed his feelings as he forced himself back into work mode.

"The other concern is that with no legal restraints the Americans can do what they like. A fair amount of Intel suggests it won't be pleasant. I can state that this worry is justified given my personal experience of being beaten up, starved and being referred to as a package before I even left the country. We've all heard the stories of rendition to other jurisdictions, the rumours of mistreatment. Sign this treaty and the Americans will basically be able to demand whatever they want with no checks."

Towers had no difficulty in believing him. Deception might be Harry's stock in trade but he would never be fool enough to lie about something that could be so easily disproved. Assertion by a semi disgraced MI5 officer, however senior, might not, be on its own be enough to block the plan. He had to enquire, "Any proof of torture?"

Harry's replied dryly "That of course is the problem – dirty and secret deeds remain just that. I should know. "

Harry took a final sip of his whisky thinking back to the dark and dirty deeds by the Thames estuary and the CIA's efforts to drag him away, thwarted only by the timely arrival of CO19 with an instruction from Towers that the extradition was suspended pending investigation of the new circumstances.

Towers rubbed his eyes wearily, he didn't like the sound of what Harry had just told him one bit. Apart from any other consideration he'd be the one forced to stand up and justify the wholesale deportation of British citizens abroad. The current European Arrest Warrant and extradition treaty with America were giving him enough trouble. Further changes of the nature Harry was outlining he didn't need. He could visualise the tabloid headlines now. 'Towers of London crumbles', while the broadsheets would, with scalpel like precision, mercilessly dissect the entire policy in conjunction with every unfortunate word he had ever uttered. If it was up to him he'd scuttle the whole idea now, unfortunately it wasn't his decision.

"The problem is that the Foreign Office is keen on the idea. It's to soothe the Cousins after the partnership.

Harry considered this to be typical, sign a dubious deal with a regime now reverting to Cold War tactics and then try to undo the harm caused by signing another even more damaging document. The appalled looking Towers however was not the subject of his wrath so he confined his comments to, "Is the FO keen on keeping the partnership because informally I've been advised that the Kremlin is threatening to withdraw if this new agreement is signed"

Towers could easily guess the source of that Intel. "Well, well, you and Ilya Gavrik seem to be getting chummy these days but he is, I assume, a sound source"

Harry nodded, he and Ilya would never be friends but in a peculiar, warped way they'd bonded. "Ilya lost too much personally to want to see the partnership fall. I was agnostic about the it but as we now know the Americans were planning to discredit the plan. Circumstances prevented them from doing so - this is their way of succeeding."

Towers considered for a moment. Harry waited, Towers hadn't been elevated into one of the big three offices of state without acquiring a fair amount of deviousness along the way, even if he was supposedly bound by collective responsibility. Finally Towers concluded "No point if mentioning the dubious interrogation methods of the Americans without proof, they'll simply deny it. I'll tell the DG and FO that you've asked the lawyers to check your suspicions about the appendices in view of the problems it could create for co-operation with our European allies. That should buy you time to find some proof of torture." 'Or fake it, I know just how underhand you can be Harry.'

Harry nodded again. It was the best he could hope for and he'd make sure that he sent the relevant documents to the barrister least likely to hurry, the one he had in mind was tied up in a long running case of fraud currently being tried in the Midlands. As he stood up to leave Towers said with a true sincerity "I hope you find your daughter Harry. Keep me informed."

His unspoken worry was that even Harry could crack eventually. The DG had only agreed to Harry's return with the proviso that he underwent a stringent psychological assessment. The sure and certain hope had been that Harry would finally be exposed as a total fruitcake. Brutally his various detractors had decided that the nails in Ruth Evershed's coffin would also mark Harry's final passing from MI5. Instead, much to Towers private glee, Harry had been cleared for duty with the comment that 'the subject did not give standard answers but taken in conjunction with his earlier history as a lateral thinker and in line with previous assessments I see no cause for concern in terms of his ability to undertake the tasks required. I would however counsel that he makes time to undertake some absorbing hobby as a means of relaxation.' While pleased with this outcome Towers still harboured some doubts. As the man who had once chided Harry for not picking up a golf club he thought the recommendation that Harry acquire a hobby was on a par with advising a nun to take up lap dancing, inappropriate to the warp and weft of his lifestyle. Also, Towers reflected, Harry was no stranger to the screening procedures. Having had the service inflict similar tests upon him for years he had almost certainly have gleaned enough knowledge to second guess every trick in the shrinks' manual. Towers wasn't about to voice his misgivings. He preferred to believe that operational Harry was functioning as well as ever he had, an opinion regularly confirmed by Erin Watts.

Harry left Towers' office and strode to his car. He'd wasted enough time on politics for one day. Checking his phone he discovered a missed call from Erin. Please some good news? Tapping into the voicemail his heart sank at Erin's tone alone.

"Harry. Jane rang. Her house was being staked out. Laura thinks it's by the CIA"

Thanks for reading. Please review if you have a moment