It was hours since Ruth had left, and still no word from Lucas. Fear had been Beth's constant companion throughout the ordeal, keeping her running when all her other reserves had failed. Their enemy remained nebulous, unknowable and all-powerful, with nothing more to go on than the knowledge that whoever they were pursuing was Chinese. Considering the fact that there were more than one billion Chinese people in the world, that was less than helpful. Though she believed that Harry had done the right thing in sending Ruth home to rest, Beth couldn't help but miss their senior analyst's gentle guidance, just now. Ruth had always been their steady center ground, the one person who could be counted on without reservation, the one person who held all the answers, and without her not only were they lost, but they were sniping at one another as well.
At least Malcolm had stuck around; the moment he'd finished delivering his news to Harry and Ruth he'd been swept into the forgery suite with Tariq, and though Beth hadn't seen him since, she was grateful to know that they had someone with his experience on their side. She wasn't entirely sure it was kosher, having him on the Grid; Harry had watched the other man disappearing behind a bank of monitors, caught Beth's eye and said "mum's the word," as if she was about to go running off to rat him out to the DG at the first opportunity. She wasn't entertaining any such notions; they needed all the help they could get.
She rose from behind her desk, rubbing her eyes and stretching her shoulders, and decided to go check on the techies. Maybe they were having better luck than she was.
"How are we doing, boys?" she asked, trying and failing to sound upbeat. They regarded her wearily; they were all exhausted, and no relief in sight, not until they made contact with Lucas.
"We've all but given up on finding Lucas, to be honest," Malcolm said with a delicate little cough. "He's well trained, and he knows how to avoid being detected, if he chooses. We're hoping that Doctor Lahan is less careful."
Beth nodded; it made sense, in a way, to track Lucas's lover rather than the man himself. Edwards had told them the Chinese had threatened the woman; that meant either the Chinese had her, and finding her would lead straight to their enemies, or Lucas was keeping her somewhere safe, and finding her would lead straight to him. Either way, it was a promising tactic.
"Any luck?" she asked, knowing the answer before the words passed her lips. Of course they'd had no luck. If there had been any leads, Tariq would have gone tearing across the Grid, shouting all the while.
The pair of them shook their heads in tandem, and Beth gave them a sad little smile.
"She'll turn up," she said softly.
Before she had a chance to explain her own failures, Martha peered around the doorframe and murmured, "Harry's asking for you, Beth, Malcolm."
Beth still wasn't quite sure what to make of Martha. The woman had only been on the Grid for two days, and already some of the light had gone out of her eyes. It's not all flash cars and expensive cocktails, is it? Beth thought ruefully as they beat a path across the Grid to Harry's office. People learned quickly in this job; they had to, or they died. Martha was still figuring out the lay of the land, but so far she'd been helpful and efficient and had not uttered a word of complaint, and Beth supposed that all boded well for her future in the Section. If she can get through this, she can through anything.
And as for Malcolm, he was something of a mystery as well. He'd been calm and kind and solicitous to a fault, and apparently Harry trusted him enough to include him in this, despite his having been retired for nearly two years. Beth had to wonder at that, at what sort of history must exist between them to give Harry such faith in the man, when he seemed to be beset on all sides by betrayal and intrigue. Malcolm was quiet as they traversed the grid together; whatever secrets he knew, he was keeping them close to the chest.
Inside Harry's office the man himself was seated behind his desk, and Dimitri was perched on a chair by the window, his whole body taut and tense with barely suppressed anxiety.
"Good of you to join us," Harry said drily as she closed the door behind her. "Do have a seat."
Beth swallowed her sharp retort and did as she was ordered. Everyone was on edge, just now, and she had no intention of fanning the flames. While she sat, Malcolm remained standing by the doorway, wringing his hands.
"I've just had a very interesting phone call," Harry said tersely. "From our Chinese friends."
About bloody time, Beth thought peevishly. At last they were getting somewhere, but she knew better than to be excited about the prospect. Likely whatever Harry was about to tell them was not good, not good at all, and she dreaded it. That Lucas had betrayed them was a foregone conclusion in her mind; he had promised to ring, and he hadn't. He had said he was trying to fix things, but he'd done absolutely nothing to demonstrate his willingness to cooperate. He had lied, he had obfuscated, he had damn near killed Vaughn Edwards with the thrust of a knife entirely too close to his femoral artery, and these were not the actions of an innocent man.
"I have been told that unless I deliver Albany by dawn tomorrow, they're going to kill Ruth."
Jesus Christ. He'd said it so matter-of-factly, as if he were merely discussing the weather, and not the imminent murder of his pregnant lover. Surely he has a plan? Beth thought dazedly, her heart pounding in her chest. Ruth was probably at home asleep right now and all Beth wanted in that moment was to get up and run, run straight to the nearest pool car and slam her foot on the pedal and not stop until she was at home, with Ruth, certain that her friend was safe and well. She only has one day left, before her leave starts, Beth thought numbly, she doesn't deserve this, oh please, not now.
"Harry-" Malcolm started to protest, his face horror-stricken, but Harry cut him off.
"Ruth is at my house, with several of our best agents keeping an eye on her as we speak. If anyone tries to come near her, they will be shot on sight," Harry said calmly. There was a vein throbbing in the side of his neck that belied his blasé tone; whatever he said, he was worried about her, desperately worried, and Beth couldn't blame him in the slightest.
"So what do we do, Harry?" Beth asked him, willing her voice not to shake.
"We can't move Ruth, it's too risky. She stays where she is, and we keep surveillance in place on her until this is over. In the meantime, Miss Bailey, Mr. Levendis, the three of us are going on a little expedition."
"What?" Malcolm asked, clearly startled. "Harry, you can't be serious-"
"They want Albany, so we're going to go and fetch it. Not the real thing, of course," he added when he saw Malcolm's eyes very nearly pop out of his head at the very suggestion, "I'm not totally insane. But something convincing enough to buy us some time."
"These people know what they're doing, Harry, they're bound to be able to recognize a fake, no matter how good it is."
Harry sighed and scrubbed his hands over his face. "I'm hoping it won't come to that. We've got a line on them now, Malcolm, and while I'm out I want you and Tariq to throw everything you have at them. I want names, I want faces, I want their bloody dates of birth."
"Don't underestimate these people, Harry. They know enough to target Ruth-"
"I'm not sure they came up with that idea on their own, Malcolm. Lucas North is out there, somewhere, and we have no idea what part he's playing in all this."
Silence fell for a moment, each of them indulging their own private fears. Beth had a pretty good idea what part she thought Lucas was playing; going after Ruth was the sort of suggestion that could only come from someone who knew Harry well, knew his weaknesses and how to manipulate them. Lucas had already proved himself to be a mastermind at that.
"I still can't quite believe it," Malcolm said quietly. When he and Harry spoke to one another, Beth felt as if she and Dimitri had ceased to exist in their minds. It seemed to her as if they were merely picking up the thread of a conversation interrupted long ago, carrying on where they'd left off as if nothing had changed. "Not after everything he's been through for us, Harry. For you."
Something passed between them in a glance, some memory that Beth and Dimitri were not privy to, and for the thousandth time she bristled at having been so thoroughly cut out of the loop. Even after spending all this time working with Harry and Ruth together, watching them communicate with nothing but knowing glances and gentle nudges, she still hadn't adjusted. It felt as if she'd been unceremoniously dropped in a foreign country, where she didn't speak the language and no one would look her in the eye.
"You know as well as I what Lucas has lost in service to his country; perhaps the loss of this woman is one sacrifice too many. I certainly know how he feels in that regard." Harry's last words were uttered so quietly that Beth almost didn't catch them, but she felt her heart clench at the sorrow in his tone.
"You're certain she's safe?" Malcolm asked.
"As certain as I can be."
At this Malcolm nodded. "Right, then. I'll go and speak to Tariq, see if we can trace the phone call they made to you. Before you go, let's fit you all with trackers, just to be safe."
And just like that, they were off and running.
Ruth tossed and turned in Harry's bed, unable to get comfortable, unable to rest, no matter how badly she wanted to. Harry's driver, Mike, had brought her straight here, never asking her if she'd prefer to go to her own flat instead. Ruth hadn't bothered arguing with him; the poor man was just following orders, and no matter how presumptuous it had been of Harry to send her here, she knew the gesture had been made in good faith. She had protested, however, when Mike insisted on escorting her inside, and plopped himself down at Harry's kitchen table, refusing to move until a pair of armed agents arrived and took over his vigil. That seemed to be a tad excessive, she thought. No threats had been made against her, or Harry, or indeed any of the team, and the fact that he had set armed guards to watch her (as well as God only knew how many agents in the obbo van parked discretely across the street) infuriated her even as it frightened her. Did he know something she didn't? Why wasn't he saying anything?
When she first arrived Ruth had taken a bath and had a bit of a pout, and then she'd propped herself up in Harry's study with a hot drink and a good book. Scarlet had come to keep her company; the poor dog was much too old to go jumping into her lap, and Ruth was much too nervous to try picking her up given that they were both in somewhat delicate physical health, but they'd kept each other company, Ruth curled in Harry's armchair, Scarlet curled by her feet. Reading had been a fruitless exercise; her worry for Harry and the team left her thoroughly distracted and unable to process a single word on the page.
Eventually she'd given up, and gone downstairs to fix supper for herself and her minders. She'd eaten at the table, and the agents had taken turns patrolling the house, checking all points of entry, murmuring to one another too quietly for Ruth to hear. That rankled, too. See if I ever cook for you again, she'd thought in huff, and carted herself back upstairs.
And now it was getting on towards ten o'clock, and much as she wanted to sleep, she just couldn't seem to close her eyes. The peanut was currently resting with her feet up near Ruth's sternum, and every once in a while she felt a little nudge as her daughter moved. As the kicking started up again Ruth laid a hand across her stomach, and was quite surprised to find that she could clearly feel the peanut's foot, pressing against her skin. Ruth pressed back ever so lightly; the peanut responded, the pressure increasing against her fingertips.
Hello, little one, Ruth thought, grinning brilliantly as they continued their game. Ruth would give the peanut a nudge, and the peanut would nudge back, and each time it happened, her heart seemed to grow in her chest with love for this little person who one day soon would come screaming into the world.
I wish your daddy was here, love, she thought. He'll be so excited, when he hears about this.
For a time she lost herself in thoughts about just how odd this process was, this process of incubating a new little life beneath her skin. Her whole body felt as if it had been squished and squeeze and shuffled around like leaves in a storm, her stomach grown so big she'd all but given up any hope of defending herself against the inevitable stretch marks, and she was still weeks away from what would undoubtedly be the worst part of the whole strange journey. Ruth had done a lot of research, over the last few months, and as much as it terrified her, she'd resolved to get through the birth without any pain medication, if she could manage it. It wasn't that she had any negative feelings towards those women who chose the medication; this was by all accounts going to be the greatest physical pain she'd ever endure in her entire life, and the very thought left her feeling daunted. Ruth had just always been the sort of person who believed in a natural approach, wherever possible, and she wanted to apply those beliefs to the birth of her child. She only had one chance to get this right, and she didn't want to take any risks.
She let loose a long, despairing sigh and dragged herself out of bed; if she couldn't sleep, she fully intended to find her way back to Harry's study and make another attempt at reading. He had such a wonderful collection of books, did Harry; as she pulled his dressing gown on over her pajamas, she wondered idly how on earth they were going to fit her books in this house, when all his shelves were already full to bursting.
We'll just have to buy more bookshelves, she thought with a smile as she opened the bedroom door and made to step outside.
Her smile vanished in an instant, her hands rising up to cradle her belly protectively as horror rose in her throat.
There on the other side of the door, with a gun in his hand and an unreadable expression on his face, stood Lucas North.
