Chapter 25
The Demons In Front, The Devils Behind.
"What's the worst thing that can happen to me here" Jacobs asked Lucas pointedly as Tariq fitted a wire to him.
Tariq glanced at Lucas who was standing, half in shadow in the corner of the room, who shrugged and said simply, "Jamal could know or suspect that we've turned you and could kill you."
"Well at least you told me that much without dressing it up which is more than I can say for him. Bloody Caribbean cruise my arse…" he muttered gloomily, trying and failing to speak as casually as Lucas had before him.
"It won't get that far." Lucas told him reassuringly, "We'll have your back as much as we can."
"That's what I'm worried about." He said wryly, "Who am I more concerned about? The demons in front of me or the devils that have my back?"
Lucas' lips twitched into a thin smile at this, "Welcome to my world. Where there is no right or wrong, only necessary and not, how do I know who's good and who's evil?"
"It all depends on perspective." He replied quietly, "If you're a rebel who is fighting for their freedom, for a life, then everything else must be forgotten. There are no wrong decisions or heinous crimes there is only what must be done. Think of the big picture, the greater good. If you're the system being attacked by the rebels, then they're murderers and terrorists and vile monsters who must be stopped. You're expected to play by the rules and focus on the details to destroy the big picture because you don't want anyone to see that the rules are often broken. No—one looks at a painting in exactly the same way and what they do see often depends on who shows them."
Lucas watched him quietly, understanding Harry's position when he had told him that he sometimes sounded three hundred years old when they been in the car earlier. Like it or not, Jacobs reminded him of himself. Cold and cynical, with too many years behind his young eyes and a mistrust of the system; tempered by the faintest shred of humanity that prevented him from becoming a monster like Jamal, the product of the paths his life had forced him down.
"If that was truly the case then you could argue away any action with the defence of 'the greater good'."
"Who says we don't? Everyone does." He replied softly, "You should know. I bet that's the damned motto here. What's sending one insignificant person your country views as a dangerous terrorist to his potential death without a backwards glance when that act could save thousands of lives and a lot of pain and suffering?"
"If you're getting cold feet-"Lucas began in a low growl,
"No." he interrupted quietly and sincerely, holding the other man's gaze in his own, "I know my place in this world. How much I am worth and why I'm worth it."
"Well then you know more than me." Lucas replied with a wry smile, "The day I do will be the day I can't do this job anymore…"
"What are you talking about? You have all of this." He said, gesturing around The Grid, "You matter, you mean something, you do something, you help people, you have the chance to die a hero, however and whenever you go."
He smiled ruefully at this, "Can you ever die a hero, when no-one will ever know that you've died?"
"I'm done." Tariq said, straightening up before Jacobs could respond to Lucas' words.
"Seriously?" Jacobs demanded, gazing down at Tariq's handiwork in horror, "I know what could happen here, I didn't know that you were going to do everything in your power to make sure that it will. Scrawling TRAITOR across my forehead would have been less obvious." He muttered, tugging at the conspicuous wire folded into his collar.
"Relax, we want it found." Lucas told him calmly, "If we had sent you back clean Jamal would know that something was wrong. He knows the rules of the game he's playing."
"So how does that help you then?" Jacobs asked, perplexed, "I thought you wanted to find him, to use me as a human SatNav?"
"We do and we will." Lucas replied with a faint smile, "Everyone who knows what they're doing will remove a wire in the same way, something we can use." He began to explain,
"When Jamal does, he'll separate it, pulling the internal wiring from the plastic sheet coating." Tariq continued, demonstrating with a second model, "When he does this, he'll dislodge a secondary tracker system that will, with any luck, adhere to either you or to himself allowing us to track him and listen in while he thinks he's safe. It should be too small for him to trace it." Tariq continued, showing him in slow motion and allowing him to examine the small, rice sized tracker that was attached to the cord.
"There are a lot of 'ifs', 'buts' and 'maybes' in there." He retorted, still looking unconvinced, despite being impressed by the technology.
"Right James Bond, if you have a better idea speak now or forever hold your peace." Lucas told him, pausing a moment before saying, "Right, come on, Harry does to appreciate or tolerate lateness, we're leaving." He said, steering him towards the pods.
The journey was almost silent, Lucas drove with Harry in front while Jacobs skulked in the back, hunched over and nervously playing with his hands, alternating between distractedly watching the scenery that flew by them as though he was on his way to the gallows and was counting down the houses, and conducting a forensic examination of his hands with such an intensity that anyone would have been convinced that he was unlikely ever to see them again.
Curiously, it was Harry who broke the silence,
"Tell me Peter, why the fascination with Hyde Park."
The younger man gave him a strained smile, glad of the distraction, before answering,
"I'm not entirely sure. He's always used it for meetings and drop-offs, he said he liked that it was open, fresh and innocent, a level playing field for both sides. It's become a sort of a tradition with him; he's almost superstitious about using it."
After this, the rest of the trip was spent in a tense, uncomfortable silence until they reached their destination.
They spilled gratefully from the claustrophobic car and out into the fresh, open air of Hyde Park.
"And for the sake of 'tradition' never again will I be able to enjoy a picnic here." Harry told Lucas in an undertone as they both watched Jacobs who was looking around anxiously, his sweating palms and dancing eyes saying that he was looking for a way out. The hopeless slump of his shoulders told them that he knew the action was pointless.
"Come on." Lucas said, gruffly, snapping him back into his horrible reality.
"Right... he said, face setting in a look of grim determination that both of the Mi-5 officers respected. Neither of them feeling that they would be as quick or eager to jump back into bed with the viper they knew Jamal to be.
They walked to a large, open expanse of grass in the middle of the park, the lake to their left. As they walked from one end, they could see Jamal casually sauntering up to them from the opposite side.
Grudgingly or not, they gave credit where it was due and, whether it was just for show or there were snipers hidden in the trees with beads on them, they both had to admit that Jamal had serious balls walking alone and unarmed towards two armed MI-5 officers who bore a hatred towards him on behalf of the entire country through the middle of an open public place where, in theory at least, anything could happen.
"Peter." Jamal said warmly, greeting him with the voice of an uncle greeting a favourite nephew and the smile of a rabid wolf, "How are you? Were you well treated?"
Jacobs shrugged and muttered, "Fine. I didn't exactly have champagne and room service but they didn't beat the shit out of me so..."
Lucas suppressed a smile, he was a natural; unrecognisable from the timid rabbit cowering in the headlights as they had approached him, now he was calm and collected, hands thrust casually into his pockets as he reacted to Jamal as though he was a scolded child being sent home from school to a disapproving parent and not as a traitor who would spend every second in his company fearing that he had sold his soul to the devils to have his life taken by this demon.
"Well gentlemen, I must admit, I was surprised to see you so willing to return Peter, and in such good condition too, barely used." He began silkily, his suspicious gaze darting between the three of them, searching for deception, resting on Peter a little longer than was necessary.
"We don't have time for him to be of any use to us." Harry replied flatly, "You know how it works in the great chess game of life. Sacrifices of smaller pieces must be made in order to bring down bigger fish."
"Quite." He replied, infuriatingly, "I'm glad we understand one another Mr. Pearce. Or at least, that we understand the world we are in and the game that we are playing."
"I'm glad we do." Harry replied tautly, his temple twitching but otherwise remaining utterly impassive to the other man's persistent jibes.
"Well, much as I enjoy your company, I came here for Peter, not a picnic, I'm a busy man as I'm sure you understand, we can exchange pleasantries later."
"We won't be exchanging anything since I don't seem to see what we're getting for holding up our end of the bargain." Lucas growled; a warning hand thrust across Jacobs' chest as he began to move towards Jamal.
"You're getting time Mr North. Something you of all people should appreciate. I can do many things, but I cannot show you time, won or lost, given or wasted, that is not within my power."
"You'll have to show us something or Peter's coming home with us." Harry shot back grimly,
Jamal sighed buy obliged, slipping his hand into the pocket of the long coat he wore, causing both of them to tense unnecessarily before he produced a smart-phone.
"It should be enough that videos of your civilians' torture are not splashed all over the internet, never mind the news." He told them, airily,
"Just because you can't see the effects of torture, does not mean that it isn't taking place." Lucas replied in a dangerous whisper, "Something I do appreciate."
"Indeed." He replied coolly, before hissing, "And I do know how you like to be thorough." He held out the phone to them and explained what they were seeing, his oily voice returning with his unshakeable composure, "Side-by-side, live shots from inside The Asquith, CCTV on the left, pictures from my people on the right."
Harry and Lucas examined the footage. It was highly unlikely that Jamal could manipulate both feeds simultaneously on a mobile device, as well as having them agree with the clocks in the room to the second, something both of them spotted almost immediately. They knew that without taking them to Tariq and having him strip them down, something they definitely did not have time for, that it would be nigh on impossible to tell for sure, however with a quick glance at the other, they both agreed that it would do.
"Speaking of my people." Jamal said conversationally when they had both indicated their satisfaction, "They're becoming rather restless. Still, they are content to wait, I've told them they'll get their chance and I keep my promises. Come eleven o'clock tomorrow morning, you will have nothing and I will have everything. Now-"
"Not quite. That's only one part of the bargain fulfilled." Harry interrupted harshly, "And you do 'keep your promises'." He added, scathingly,
"That I do Mr. Pearce. I presume that you are referring of course, to the charming Miss Evershed, now how could I forget dear Ruth?" he said, mockingly, "How could any of us forget the lovely Ruth?"
He hammered away on the screen of the phone for a few minutes before showing them a second feed. This one showed Ruth at the bottom of the well. At Jamal's command, and then at theirs, whoever was holding the camera shone a light down onto her, causing her to flinch and proving that it was live, as was she.
"Satisfied?" he asked, sweetly,
"Indeed." Harry replied, parroting Jamal's patronising tone.
He smiled and turned to Peter, "Are you coming?" he asked, eyes flashing as he weighed the other man's words and body language.
"Sure." He said, shrugging indifferently, "Long as you feed me, I'm starving."
They went their separate ways, the sides now seemingly evened up. Two and two. None of them knew whether this was the way it would be divided or whether one side had gained a distinct advantage while the other had lost their one and only invaluable lifeline in this round.
Harry and Lucas waited by the gait, Lucas leaning against the fence as they waited for Tariq and Ros to give them the feed from Jacobs' wire.
"They said that you were uncooperative..." they heard Jamal's voice murmuring to Jacobs as they walked away.
"I guess. They didn't really try too hard." He replied, "I thought I was in for it. When they picked me up I thought well this is it, this is how I'm going to die. They didn't do much. A couple of slaps, nothing much. I told them I wouldn't give them shit. They seemed to know I was telling the truth. They started muttering about 'trades' pretty quickly...What did you have to give them?"
"Something we can easily afford. Time. More time to watch them dance and squeal and chase their tails." He replied with satisfaction. Jacobs had successfully deflected any suspicion of Jamal's by giving him the opportunity to gloat, appealing to his egotistical nature with beautiful subtlety,
"You must be so proud Lucas." Ros smirked, though he could tell that she was impressed beyond her will, as was he.
"The padawan has become the master." Tariq added before returning back to the job at hand, seemingly being able to picture a little too accurately Harry's expression, "How long to we keep this up for?"
"Until the wolf returns to his den and invites us with him." Harry replied grimly,
"When do we pull Jacobs out?"
"We don't."
"I told him we had his back." Lucas said, a faint hint of accusation in his voice,
"We will Right up until the point he doesn't have it anymore." Harry replied harshly,
"You told me-"
"What you needed to hear." Harry replied,
"Because you knew I wouldn't have agreed to talk him into it if I'd known that you were sending him in to this blind. A little too similarly to the way you sent me to Moscow because we both know how that ended." He spat, turning his back on the other man,
"He has killed hundreds of innocent people Lucas and wouldn't hesitate to do the same again if you had twisted his arm in a different way." Harry retorted, "I didn't have time for you to start wrestling with your morals and your empathy for terrorists on this one." He snapped, harshly,
Setting his jaw, Lucas turned from the other man, hoping that Jacobs' natural ability continued to flourish under pressure.
"If you were so uncooperative Peter...Why are you wired?" he hissed, the unmistakeable sound of a gun being cocked reaching all of them and causing Lucas to flinch.
"They said they'd kill me if I didn't wear it, said they couldn't trust me otherwise. They said you knew the game, that you wouldn't expect me with no strings attached...Did you?"
"No." He replied, a faint smile evident in his voice at the younger man's answer, something that was reflected in the listeners as they realised that Jacobs wanted to trust him, "And strings can be cut."
They all waited with bated breath as static filled their eyes and they waited to see if Tariq's idea would work.
"Now, tell me, what happened?" Jamal's voice said as the little moving dot showed that their tracker had stuck and that they were being led to the wolf's den at last.
They waited, watched, and followed as Jamal quizzed Jacobs as they drove. Jacobs held his nerve and stood up to Jamal's inquisition that Lucas described as 'Russia without the jail cell' and did not allow any cracks that must be there to show.
"Are you ready?" Ros asked Lucas as they waited outside the dirty grey building that Jamal and Jacobs had disappeared in to with a SWAT team.
They waited. Unable to hear anything but shouted warnings and the scrambling of desperate people.
Jamal sat calmly in the centre of the room, leaning back in his chair as the room dissolved in to chaos around him. The world ending around him as he walked through the clouds of ash into the arms of the enemy, recognising that it was the only place to go.
As he was pulled from the room, and Harry was allowed to confront him before he was dragged away,
"Take him into a room. Have him wait for me. No-one goes near him until I've spoken with him."
...
Harry entered the room quietly, and alone.
The sound of the thick, steel door slamming behind them echoed around the room as they both became aware what it signified, that it was sealing them in the dense, dark room, closing off all exists, leaving them quite alone and quiet unprotected from the other.
Stripped bare of the defences they possessed in the real world. Their teams and the threats of dangers that may or may not have been lurking in the shadows. Now that it came down to it, this was all it was ever going to come to. The clash of wills and wits on a level playing field where it was impossible to tell you would win and lose and what that would be.
"You're in a bit of an interesting and complex position here Mr. Jamal."
"I am indeed." He said, quietly, "My solution to it however, while no doubt interesting, is not in itself that complex. Its implications perhaps, but not it in itself."
"Oh really. And you're solution is?"
"I have already decided exactly what I am going to tell you. No amount or bribery or torture or other unsavoury acts will make me change my mind. I have decided to give you what you have earned. And you have earned something. It is clear that here you were the better player. You played me beautifully. Peter. A valuable player and a piece that I now perceive to be bigger than either of us understood, whatever use you have now put him to. You have earned something."
"I assure you, I am waiting on tenterhooks to see what I've won." Harry replied, voice dripping with sarcasm.
"Here's the thing Mr. Pearce. It's your job to make impossible decisions. And not only do you have to make these terrible choices, but you have to live with the consequences of them. So live with this, I will give you what you want, but I will only give you one of them. You must now decide which one it will be. Do you spare the people in this country from a horrific fate worse than death that history will echo back at you until you enter your grave; or do you send one of your officers there now, doomed to die a mindless, seemingly pointless death where history will never even know she existed?" he leant back smoothly in the chair with the look of the utmost satisfaction on his face as Harry blanched before hissing, taking the final chance to twist the knife he had sunk between the other man's shoulder blades, "What's it to be then, your life? Or the one thing that makes it worth living?"
A/N: Apologies for the slight gap, bit of a hectic weekend and this chapter didn't come as easily as I had expected! Thanks for reading! Review if you can.