Harry certainly didn't feel at ease. How could he, when the subject under discussion was the love of his life. When was it ever different? A though that's making him want to ask them to hurry things up because it's making him feel uncomfortable? Or is it because he knows that the decisions they make, he'll have to accept without argument? Because when all is said and done, this is their operation not his.
The familiarity of being in an Officer's Mess, giving him some sort of respite from the tension and as the conversation develops, with as much attention to detail as he would have demanded, given the same resources, some reassurances. Way beyond what he'd been expecting to be honest and in no small way thanks to Ros's input. Ros who despite the surroundings, which are making him feel as though he's never left the army, is by contrast, someone who has never been one to accept authority without questioning the reasons behind everything, or has complied with anything that smacks of regimentation, is making a positive contribution. Without divulging anything which could later be construed as her having given up a state secret. Something which the more he listens to her, makes him think that not only is she as good spy, but she'd make a damn good army officer, if she ever decided to jump ship.
He on the other hand and despite what is a very good dinner and the positivity that is now filling the room like a warm blanket, looks at his watch again and fails to stifle a yawn. It's only eight in the evening, but as they don't plan on leaving until after midnight, by which time it will be nineteen hours since he's last slept, would love to close his eyes. Not helped by being somewhere where everyone knows what their role is, including him. Which will be to take a back seat, or not go at all. Whereas Ros, is going to be up there at the forefront and has been assigned a crucial role at the point of rescue. What happens after that, when he and Ruth are finally on their own god willing, will be for him alone to decide. For now, adrenalin based on fear and expectation in equal measure, will he hope, keep him going and stave off the tiredness which is threatening to win the battle.
All of which will depend on them being right in their assumption and that after hours of what he knows is going to be painstaking searching, that they don't have to move to another location.
'Ros, gentlemen, we'll reconvene as planned later,' and dinner is finally brought to an end.
.
Dressed in combats and looking very much the part, as is he, who despite the intervening years has always taken good care of himself, Ros is sitting on the chair in Harry's small room and watching him sleep. There was no point in him pacing about for however long they had to wait until they got the call, she'd told him, and he'd finally given in. A decision that she'd made, when she'd been watching him out of the corner of her eye during dinner and as a result, was now able to picture a much younger Harry. The one who had run ops like this with his eyes closed and is the reason that he is so highly respected and good at what he does now. But it goes further than just knowing him, that has led her believe, that these last few days have changed their relationship forever. That he now sees her as friend, she'd decided when she'd heard him talking to Major Willis about Ruth. An insight that when she'd been sitting at an adjacent table, explained the true depth of his feelings. Feelings that she could only describe as extraordinary and he must have known she could hear. That went way beyond the physical and right into the very heart of him. To the point where any conclusion other than he and Ruth were absolutely right for each other, would be an injustice. Especially as she'd been pretty sure that this was the first time that he'd expressed them openly, even to himself.
That Ruth was going to hear them, she was now even more determined.
'We will get her back,' she told his sleeping form. Anything less, and she'd never forgive herself.
An attitude which increased when she became part of what was no longer an exercise, but 'what we've done dozens of times across the globe,' the officer who was marshalling the troops told her. Before she and they, climbed into one of four trucks, polished until they shone, she noticed. By some poor underling she imagined, as she watched Harry with Major Willis, or Paul as he was now insisting Harry called him, climbing into what she knew from the conversation over dinner, was a specially adapted Land Rover. Driven she was surprised to see by a woman. The expression on Harry's face, despite the distance that was now between them, so intense that it almost made her wish that she was travelling with him. Rather than being an add on, albeit a highly motivated one, in this particular group. One of six that was made up of all ranks, which had been formed for the task in hand. Backed up if needed, by the logistical staff that ran into several hundreds, from all areas of the UK. Information that was coming from the corporal who had given her an unnecessary leg up and had been in Cyprus for nine months of a year-long overseas deployment. The drivers of the trucks being part of the back-up team and had years of experience under their belts. Each and every one of them armed. As were she and Harry.
Harry whose despair had been replaced by optimism and a real sense of purpose, because they were finally underway, didn't regret what he'd said, but was now keeping his thoughts to himself. The first half an hour on roads that took them through residential areas, but were none the less beautiful, given the abundance of flowers that were tumbling over garden walls. Through villages, where all but night owls, human or otherwise were already asleep. Except a quick-thinking moggy, who at one point, shot across the road in front of the land rover. Turning his thoughts as he watched it jump effortlessly over a fence, to Ruth's cat Fidget. His attention before then, absorbing what he could of the scenery and wondering how many times if ever, Ruth had driven along this same road. Until they took a sharp right onto a dirt road, where according to the sign on the gated entrance, told members of the general public that this land belonged to the British Oversees Forces and was strictly out of bounds. Where the only light now, was from their lead vehicle. Dimmed to the extent that only those with a keener eye than him, could see where they were going and had the effect of plunging him into a totally different world. The world of his thirty something self, where this sort of night had been part and parcel of his existence. No longer applying and accepting that Major Willis was the person they would all defer to, once they'd set up the small command post, from where the operation would be run. That he was a passenger who was along for the ride and would be expected to stay silent. Glad though, that he'd openly spoken about Ruth and how easily the words had come. Made easier, because Major Willis who up until then had been a stranger, had simply asked him to tell him about Ruth. Not the Ruth that they were looking for, but the other Ruth. The one that belonged to him. In the same way that all those years ago, in not dissimilar circumstances, one of his men had been struggling to balance his own army career, with the knowledge that his wife who was on another continent, had been involved in a road accident. Something that was making him feel as though he'd come full circle. That he had to trust them, in the same way that young man had trusted him.
While Harry was mulling over the whys and wherefores of not only his love life, but his past, Ros who had been admiring what could be arranged in such a short space of time and after a final briefing which had lasted ten minutes, was now deep into woodland with giant rock faces and by what she'd been told, had a river crossing to look forward to. Not only was she getting used to the jargon that they were using, but having always prided herself on her fitness, was having no trouble in keeping up. In front of them and adding to the beauty of the surroundings, a deep ravine appeared out of nowhere. Where the ferns and flowers, which under the light of the moon had an eerie appearance, almost looked as though they'd been planted for her benefit. Recognising her as a spook. This completely natural landscape that had formed over centuries, leading her to understand better, why Ruth had chosen to settle here. Not to mention Nico who had been born here. The reason she was here at all, making her take stock. The enemy and they were certainly that, amounting to Mani and possibly two other men. Not another fighting force, which her companions usually faced during such an exercise. Which meant that unless they were really unlucky, they would have the upper hand when it came to it. None of which was convincing her, that if had been anyone other than Ruth that they were looking for that, she'd feel less guilty because she was enjoying herself.
A call of, 'waterfall ahead, mind your footing,' and she was back in character.
.
It was Malcolm, who had made the decision to sleep in one of the on-call rooms and eat canteen food, who got the call from George. George who having failed in his attempt to contact either Harry or Ros, because both their phones were turned off, had rung the only other number he knew.
'Nico is alive,' and Malcolm took a huge breath. 'He was found in the hospital carpark, dehydrated and is now under sedation,' left the other question hanging for far too long, until prompted, George said, 'Ruth wasn't with him and Nico doesn't know where she is.' Before asking, 'have they found her?' The they being Harry and Ros. George of course, oblivious to the fact that there was now a full-scale manhunt underway and Malcolm not about to tell him.
'Not yet, I'll let you know when they do,' he told him and received a response of, 'thank you,' before the phone went down.
Malcolm's reasoning, that George had no conception of what Mani was capable of and assumed it was only a matter of time before Ruth appeared unhurt. Whereas he knew only too well. Which made for a difficult phone call through to the base and onwards to the radio operator who was standing far too close for comfort as it turned out, to Harry. Harry, who like Malcolm, reacted with a positive response to the news about Nico, but didn't need telling, that the chance of finding Ruth alive, now had a huge question mark after it. One which saw him balling up his fists and turning his back on those who were with him, before walking away. Murderous thoughts, mixed with a real sense of grief, because Ruth might already be dead, combining to wipe out that positivity that he'd been forcing himself to embrace.
.
Ruth was running, she had no idea where, other than she knew that the sea was on her right-hand side. When Mani had arrived back, she'd played dead. Enough for him to go back outside and leave the door slightly ajar so she could squeeze through. Foolish of her to think that he wouldn't hear her, or know that she was ill equipped to do what she'd planned. She'd never much good at running anyway, but now, with the sound of the footsteps behind her, her legs were turning to jelly. As if she was running on the spot, which she wasn't. If he caught up with her, he'd kill her, she knew that, so her only hope now was to find somewhere to hide. But she was in open countryside. Beautiful countryside that no longer felt beautiful. She'd turned herself into a target. Waiting for a hand or worse still one of Mani's boots to connect with her body, but when they didn't, she ran on. Telling herself to turn inland towards the forest, which would at least offer her some cover. But the forest which during daylight was stunning, now looked dark and foreboding and she'd be lost within moments. Animals, large and small, she had no idea what, probably lived there. If Mani killed her and then buried her, they'd dig her up and eat her. Her imagination was on fire. Why in god's name had she watched so many detective series where bodies were never found?
Forget the woodland, just keep going, she told herself. One step at a time. The first of which saw the ground beneath her feet evaporating and then nothing.