Day 3,110 ~November 10, 2007~

Darkness. Something that he had been so use to that he almost found it comforting at times, but this was not one of those times. Cloaked in darkness he had no choice but to trust the hands that lead him out of his prison. His hand chained in front of him were restricted from movement as short chained attached to the binds around his ankles, proving it difficult for him to walk. Unsure where he was being taken, he prepared himself for any possible out come. Since his last visit with Arkardy, Oleg didn't take too kindly when he was told about the deal Lucas had made with his boss. He had seem to take out his aggression on the prisoner, frequent beating sessions, denial of nourishment and threatening him with the prospect of death. This could be it, he thought. Oleg could have finally decided that his life should end. The idea of dying didn't bother Lucas, the fact that he accepted death was what really frighten him.

He found himself being shoved into a confined place. Coffin? He wondered before he felt movement. Car. He was leaving the prison. They seem to have been traveling for hours. Where the hell were they taking him? He longed to stretch out his long frame from his current fetal position. His new found claustrophobia getting the best of him, his breathing had quicken as squirmed uncontrollably. He desired to be free from this cage.

The car stopped suddenly and the boot of the car opened followed by a few sets of hand pulling him out, leading him up a flight of stairs. He was forced to sit down before someone weaved a buckle under his arms around his waist to hold him in his seat. Silence. No one spoke a word making Lucas feel uneasy. He felt a loud engine roar followed by movement. He recognized the feeling right away. Plane.

After he felt the plane landed, the silent hands escorted him to another car. This time his restrains were removed and was place in the back seat of the car. His heart pounded against his chest when he realized that this was it. He was going home. It terrified him. He had been use to a certain way of life, that wasn't really living, that he wasn't sure how well he would cope being thrusted back into civilization.

The car stopped, rough hands pulled him out. Two sets of hand trying to steady his wobbly legs that were sore from lack of use. The hood that covered his head since he was in the prison was pulled off. Even though it was night his eyes squinted from the brightness of the what little light there was while he tried to focus on the people standing in the distance. Harry. His breath quickens. He watches as one of the three men started walking towards them. The hands that were holding him up pushed him forward. He stumbled slightly before finding his feet, walking slowly towards his former boss.

"Hello, Harry." he acknowledged the older man.

"Welcome home, Lucas, how are you feeling?" Harry greeted as he place he hand on his back as he escorted him to the car.

"Fine. Good." Lucas sniffed. "Cold." the door to the car was opened by the younger man who accompanied Harry. Lucas sat down scowling at Arkardy and Harry through the windshield. Wondering what the two men had to say to each other. He glanced down at his hand and watched it shake with anxiety. Forming a fist he attempted to stop his tremors. He head shot up when he heard the door open and watched at the younger man sit down in the drivers seat in front of him. Followed by Harry in the passenger seat. Lucas rests his head on the window and just gaze out into the night.

As he watched the building of his home land pass by his gut wrenched with guilt. Olive should be with him in this car. He closed his eyes while his hand found his lips remembering the last kiss they shared. He was determined to save her but he just let her down and now he didn't know if he could help her be liberated from her prison.

"How did they treat you?" Lucas looked up as his thoughts were interrupted by the question from his boss.

"Sometimes well. Sometimes not." He rested his head once more on the window. "They told me, I could come home if I spied for them."

"What did you say?" Harry asked with a hint of worry in his voice.

"I said yes." Lucas smiled weakly at the older man. "Do you think we can stop for some fish and chips? I've got a craving."

"Of course, Lucas." Harry accommodated the newly freed man.

XXXX

In the large, surprisingly clean lavatory, Lucas breathed a sigh relief when he finally had a minute to himself. Encountering the officers in Section D was a overwhelming after being left in solitude for so long. The stares of sympathy and curiosity directed at him made him very uncomfortable and he wanted to crawl back in the hole where he came from. He didn't even recognized anyone any more, most of them were probably still in high school before he was taken in to custody in Russia. The only familiar face was Malcolm which prompted an genuine smiled for the first time since his return to London.

Taking a good look at himself in the mirror, he barely recognized the man staring back at him. He was no longer the young man filled with the flame of aspiration. He felt like an old man whose heart was a dying ember struggling to survive. The palm of his right hand covered his mouth in hope to stifle any emotion from coming through. Intaking a breath he turned the hot water filling the sink before proceeding to wash his face with his hands.

"Dum spiro spero." Lucas glanced over his shoulder eyeing the head of Section D. Turing back continuing to washing his hands.

"While I live I hope." He stated as he scrubbed his hands vigorously. "Tattooing's part of the culture in there. You don't do it, you don't belong - you don't belong, you're dead." He spat. "They all mean something." The spy turned showing off the tattoo on his chest. "There's a specific iconography. Fascinating, really." After a brief moment of awkward silence."So, how did Tom Quinn work out?" Lucas turned back to the sink and continued washing himself.

"He took early retirement." replied the older man.

"How did you get me back, Harry?" He asked as he proceeded to dry himself with a towel facing the other man.

"We caught one of their top men accessing confidential files from the British Power Consortium. This is ahead of a substantial oil-supply deal between the UK and Russia. Very embarrassing for them. I used their embarrassment as collateral." Explained Harry.

"You horse-traded. What about Olive? What are your plans to get her back?" He dropped the towel so it hanged over one of the sinks before he leaned on another. His arms crossed his chest as he glare at the man before him. "Or are you just going to leave her there?"

"Lucas." Harry sighed trying to find the right words to say to the dispirited man. "Now is not the time talk about Olive."

Lucas stared blankly at the man before him before turning around retrieving his blue shirt. "You need rest." He heard the man speak while he pulled his arms through the sleeves. "Welcome home to a safe house with a stained mattress and nylon sheets." The spy button up his shirt with a mocking smile on his lips.

"You're malnourished, running on adrenaline. Close to exhaustion." Harry insisted.

"So where do I go? You want me to go and watch pay-per-view in a Holiday Inn? Catch up on eight years of Coronation Street? Where do I go, Harry? What am I supposed to do when I get there? Just tell me and I'll go and I'll do it." He asked, he whole demeanour sank in defeat.

"I'm giving you clearance till midnight on Sunday. After that, you rest. Then we'll talk some more. Properly." Harry revealed.

"Have you seen her?" The younger man ask tentatively about his wife, unsure if he wanted to hear the answer.

"She's well and happy." Harry stated casually. "It's good to see you, Lucas. You were missed." The man turn leaving Lucas alone.

Lucas stood still, eye fixed on the empty space that was occupied by his boss. Wrestling with himself to hold back all emotion from crawling their way to the surface. He abruptly turned and grabbed hold of the sink. His head hunched over. His body contracted in frustration while his knuckles turned white from his tight grasp. He restrained himself from howling at the top of his lungs. Few minutes had past before he had found his bearing, he stood up straight looking at himself once again in the mirror. He counted to ten while taking in deep breaths. Once he had composed himself, he turned on the balls of his feet and headed out of the bathroom and back to work. Where he would finally put his rusty skills to use once more in helping finding the soldier Sullivan.