Chapter Three
Harry return to the Intelligence Department on Thursday just in time for his ten o'clock meeting. And, shockingly, he was in a good mood. At supper the night he'd picked the children up from the station, he told them he was going to take the job at the capital, and they could all stay in the house together. That made him rather popular for the moment, and Catherine even cheered when he promised to phone the school first thing in the morning to inform them that the Pearce children would not be returning.
The good feeling continued through the next day when he—and not with Malcolm to assist him, as had been his initial instinct with the situation—took the children to the zoo. Malcolm had been right, Graham loved bears. Only the grizzly bears were not visible in their enclosure, which was almost enough to prompt tears from Graham. But he figured out he also loved lions and elephant, so the day was saved. Catherine, now a vegetarian and very smug about it, grumbled initially about the treatment of animals and how dare zoos ever exist and take animals from their natural habitats. That problem was rectified when Harry found a sign explaining all the good that the zoo does for endangered animals with its breeding programs and taking in animals in need of rescue and rehabilitation that would not otherwise survive in the wild. He even found a zookeeper to speak to Catherine and reassure her that the animals were well cared for and were not ever taken from the wild unless orphaned or injured. After that, she was much happier about the whole thing.
Today, though, he had to leave his children at home with Malcolm and come to the base in order to officially accept his new position and finish being briefed on the finer points involved. And it did not escape his attention that he'd get to see that Ruth again. She was extremely bright and possessed a voice that he enjoyed listening to. He'd be happy to have her brief him at any time.
He smirked to himself as he walked tall and purposefully down the halls. His phrasing made his mind wander. She was quite pretty. Obviously no film star or supermodel, but women working in government tend to be plain. And even wearing her bland brown uniform with her hair pulled back in a simple style, Harry had found her to be a breath of fresh air. Beautiful fresh air. With eyes like the sea.
Harry needed to reel himself back in. He was probably close to twice Ruth's age. And if he was going to be working with her, he needed to stop any thoughts of personal feelings dead in his tracks. He'd made mistakes like that in the past. And, thankfully, he'd learned from them.
It was ten on the dot when he greeted the director's secretary. She told him to go right in.
"Ah, good morning, Sir Harry," the director greeted pleasantly.
Harry grumbled slightly at that. "Good morning, sir," he replied, shaking the man's hand.
"Have a seat and we'll get right back into things." The director pointed to the chair and took his own seat.
"Should we wait for Ruth?" Harry asked.
The director shook his head. "No, I'm afraid Ruth is detained with other matters at the moment. We'll have to carry on without her. But I do have her report for you to take with you. Should answer any further questions you have."
Harry nodded and sat there and listened to the man drone on and on about the goals for the department and the role Harry and his agency would play and the expectations for him and for the results they hoped to achieve. To Harry's mind, a pointless endeavor. But he made no show of any displeasure. He steepled his fingers in his lap and kept his expression neutral. He'd spent a lot of time making sure that others did not know his true feelings, and that skill had saved his life on more than one occasion. This one wasn't life or death, to be sure, but Harry knew he was saving his career by keeping his annoyance at the pompous, lecturing director to himself.
Finally, they were finished. Over an hour later. Christ, the agony of it. The director gave Harry the file with Ruth's report and shook his hand. "Ellen will show you to your new office," the director told him. "You can get yourself settled and tomorrow, you'll meet your staff."
And with that, he was free to go. The secretary, Ellen, led him down a series of hallways and through a set of double doors labeled FOREIGN INTELLIGENCE. Inside was a bullpen of about a dozen desks with workstations. The walls were lined with file cabinets. And in the back of the room was an office with a large window to oversee everything. The door to that office was labeled DIRECTOR.
"Here you are, sir," Ellen said, turning on the light for him. The bullpen contained only two people working, placing files into the cabinets and preparing the workspace for the department to officially begin its work the next day. Harry's office was stuffy and horribly decorated. Though he did like the window that allowed him to see and be seen—he appreciated interaction with those he worked with and being available for what they might need from him—and he strangely found that the back wall painted red was actually a nice touch. The rest of it, he'd find a way to redecorate or fill with his own things to as to not find himself hating every bit of his new office.
Harry gave the office a swift overview and then turned back to Ellen. "Thank you very much," he said politely.
Ellen left the keys to the department and to Harry's office sitting on the desk before she left. Harry decided to indulge for a moment and sit down in the huge leather swivel chair. It was surprisingly comfortable. And the desk wasn't so bad, now that he was sitting at it. A bit cold and basic, but it would do. The wood was a little too light, but with the red wall and leather chair, perhaps the lightness would be appreciated. And if Harry's past work habits were anything to go by, the desk would soon be covered in paperwork for him to place in neat, organized piles.
He opened the file that would give him more information on his new job, but quickly closed it again. He could look at it later. Harry had a routine for new postings, and even though he wasn't stationed in a foreign base, he saw no reason to deviate from what he would normally do during the first day on the job. It was time to meet the people. Yes, his proper staff would not arrive till tomorrow. But he could get a good start on things now.
First, he introduced himself to the two men organizing the files that would make up his department's first line of resources. Each man in turn gave Harry his name—Marcus and Oliver—and explained his usual role. They both worked down in the registry, and they had been spending the last week carbon copying the files that would be transferred to this department. Harry thanked them for their efforts and let them get back to work.
He wandered down the corridor to what looked like a typing pool. But there weren't just typists there. Men and women of all sorts with stacks of files, some with books, others typing madly. But all at rows and rows of desks in neat, straight lines. Harry did not want to interrupt their work, so he did not linger. He turned to leave before he distracted anyone.
"Oh, hello."
He heard the voice just after he crashed into whoever possessed it. But in an instant, Harry knew who possessed it. "Hello, Ruth," he greeted with a smile. "How are you today?"
"Very well, Major Pearce," she replied, taking a step back from him.
Harry noticed that the same man in the suit who had given Harry the message about the time the other day was standing against the wall a few paces behind Ruth. He chose not to question it at that particular moment. He turned his attention back to Ruth. "I missed you at my briefing this morning," he said. "But I was told you had more pressing matters to attend to."
"Yes. I hope my report was sufficient in lieu of my presence," she replied.
"I'm sure it is exemplary. But I'd much rather have you."
Ruth blushed bright pink and averted her eyes. Only then did Harry realized what he'd said.
"I mean," he corrected, "I'd much rather have you deliver the report in person. I thought you had a very good way of explaining things." And I like watching you while you speak, he added in his own mind. That, much like his annoyance with the director, would remain unexpressed. "Perhaps you can give my next briefing."
"I'm not assigned to Foreign Intelligence, unfortunately," Ruth told him. "My desk is over there, actually."
Harry's gaze followed where she pointed and saw that her desk was empty of a person but absolutely full up with stacks of files and books and loose pages in the kind of chaos that would cause Harry to absolutely lose his mind if it were his desk in that state.
"I'm in general army analysis," she continued. "So I'm just available for whatever research and analysis is needed on particular projects I'm tasked to. And the director tasked me with assisting in the development of the new Foreign Intelligence department."
"Oh I see," Harry replied. He hardly heard what she said, as he was far too enchanted by the way she spoke.
"It was really nice to see you again, Major Pearce," Ruth said. "But I'm afraid I have to get back to work. I was out this morning on other matters, you see."
"Of course," he said. He gave an understanding nod and stood aside so that Ruth could go to her desk and get back to work. He watched her take her seat and felt a warm bubbling feeling when she looked up and smiled at him. He smiled back.
A heavy hand appeared on his shoulder. "Anything I can help you with, Major Pearce?" the man in the suit asked.
If Harry were not the man he was with the background he'd had, he might have been made to feel nervous by the confrontation. But as it was, he just shrugged the hand off his shoulder. Very un-army to have physical contact with an officer like that. Though this man was in a suit and not a uniform, and that told Harry a great deal. "No, thank you," he replied.
Harry turned and walked back down the corridor in the direction he came. But he did not go to the Foreign Intelligence department. Instead, he continued back through the winding maze to the director's office. He quickly asked Ellen if he could have a moment with the director. She went to announce his presence and then let him in.
"Sir Harry, is there something wrong?"
"No, nothing wrong. But I wanted to ask if you could have Ruth transferred to my department. I'd like to have her on my team. She's already done so much work in setting up the new department, I think she'd be invaluable to continue on and help get us up and running."
The director hesitated. That was odd. Harry had expected his mildly manic speech to be met with a 'yes, of course' or a resounding 'no,, certainly not.' But instead, the director looked a bit uncomfortable. "I don't know that we can change her assignment."
Harry frowned. "Why not? You're the director. She's just an analyst."
A small smirk appeared on the man's face. "She's not just an analyst, Sir Harry. And I'm surprised you didn't know."
"Know what?"
"Well, they keep to themselves for the most part. But you, I'd have expected to know…" he mused.
Harry felt his jaw clench in frustration. "Know what?" he asked again.
The director explained, "We call her Ruth at her insistence, but her proper name is Princess Louisa of Leister. It was her grandfather, the King, who gave you that knighthood."