The door had opened and closed again so quietly, that for a moment Malcolm wondered if perhaps he'd imagined it, and that Harry had changed his mind and was still here. But as the seconds turned into minutes until the owner of a single set of footsteps appeared, he knew that any attempt to calm or convince Ruth that Harry was going to be walking back through the door any time soon would be pointless.

He tried persuading her to come back into the kitchen and eat something, anything to take to take away her pain and convince her that Harry wasn't going to get himself killed.

'He'll be fine Ruth, Harry knows how to take care of himself,' was so ridiculously inadequate, as a look that anyone who didn't know Ruth as well as he hoped he did, fired back as though she'd been shot and was trying to defend herself.

Danny, Colin, Zaf, Adam and Fiona had all perished in the few short years since Ruth had first arrived at Thames House. The list of funerals had been endless and he knew exactly where Ruth's mind had headed. To a poem and a reading that invariably he would be asked to read and she'd be expected to sit through, unmoved and void of emotion, because to do anything other than that would be to let the side down. It would be the end of her he was sure of that, the switch that would finally turn out the bright light that was Ruth Evershed.

It was just so bloody unfair, but then when had it ever been anything but unfair for any of them, in this ghastly world that they'd chosen to move in?

Tom, Angela Wells and Davey King had all taken a pot shot at Harry at one time or another and heaven knows what might have happened to him if he'd been left in the hands of Connie's goons. How many more attempts to eliminate him could he survive, everyone eventually walked into a last chance saloon didn't they, even Harry?

For the moment though, he had a job to do, and that was to ensure that Ruth didn't do a runner and make a beeline for Thames House herself, which given her stubbornness and the current circumstances wasn't just likely, it was a racing bloody certainty, which reminded him. He'd seen Ruth's steely determination when he'd flown over to the States to bring her home and her ability to act and think out of her comfort zone when they'd gone to the prison to get Harry released, had been as good as any field agent. He needed to think of a way to get that determination back. Clutching at straws he might be, but the house was becoming oppressive, whereas the garden was peaceful and inviting and if he had to stay with Ruth for god knows how long, it felt like the best place to start.

'Does your laptop work outside, perhaps we could do some research on those buildings, it might be a help to Harry?' He suggested, waiting for her to turn round with a response that he hoped might be a little more positive.

When she eventually did, he could barely imagine how on earth hadn't he noticed it before, during all the years that he'd known her, during the countless hours that they'd sat together, beavering away in search of some intel or other. On that dreadful day when Harry had delivered the news that Colin had been murdered and he'd been close to collapse and Ruth had comforted him. It was her eyes, the depth of them was fathomless and now that she'd been crying they were so startlingly blue, they were breath taking. The eyes were the gateway to the soul weren't they and he'd always known that Ruth was filled with compassion. But with her it went so much deeper than that.

For the first time since he'd seen Harry and Ruth together as a couple, everything suddenly made sense, and he finally understood the complete package that had brought them to this point and why they now loved each other so deeply. It had never been opportunist on Harry's part or a crush on the boss as had been whispered about. That was why the good old Harry comments had upset Ruth so much and had seen her run. Their love was something rare and wonderful and it was this that had drawn them together, but only they had known that they'd loved each other, even then. He wanted to believe that before he'd died, perhaps Adam had come to realise this as well. He had after all been the closest to Ruth and Harry at that time.

The last piece in the puzzle that had eluded him until now was what had helped them survive, and he'd found it. Now he had the strength to do what Harry had asked of him, and keep Ruth safe until he came home.


On any other morning in what was already beginning to feel like another lifetime, Malcolm's throwaway remark about the section being overstretched and sleep deprived, would have seen Harry reaching for his coat without hesitation. But if there was one thing that the last four weeks had taught him, it was to re affirm how he'd always felt about Ruth and how much he loved her, and now that they'd finally found the courage to take their relationship to bounds that they'd previously only dreamed about, his priority as to what really mattered wasn't the service anymore, it was them. He'd tried to convey that to her in the way he'd kissed her goodbye and had looked at her, terrified that if tried to explain it in words that he'd get it wrong. 'I'll be back soon before you know it,' he could have got away with if he'd been talking to a child, but to Ruth who knew that it was absolute bollocks, but hadn't said so, it had been inadequate to the point of madness.

Balling up his fists inside his pockets and walking as casually as he could manage, was doing nothing to help calm his rising temper, as he crossed Portman Square and turned down another side alley, managing to avoid the onslaught of the mid - morning traffic, but not to blank out his memories of the previous evening. He'd truly believed that when he'd told Ruth that they'd 'talk about it in the morning' that they'd be able to do just that, and yet here they were again, with one or the other of them having to leave the other one standing. Four weeks, eleven hours and twenty three minutes by his calculation he'd been side lined, during which time he'd been leading the life of a happily married man, whereas for the best part of the last twenty years he'd forced himself to ignore to his personal cost, the chance of a wife and a family and instead had accepted the life that that had been metered out to him. If you were lucky enough to avoid a bullet or a bomb, and let's face it there weren't many that had, then the service would eventually destroy you anyway with the sheer weight of your over indulgent sense of responsibility, and with it, the inevitable overwhelming guilt and grief. Well not any more. If he came out of this unscathed and please god he would, they'd have that future that he'd promised her.

'It's my last mission Ruth, I promise you,' he kept telling himself, as he tried to blank out her terrified face and concentrate on the job in hand, as he hailed a taxi to cross London, and back to what had essentially been his home for the most part of twenty years.

Unshaven due to Malcolm's unexpected and early arrival and dressed in clothes so casual that no one other than Ruth would have recognised him, he paid the taxi driver and set off on foot, approaching Thames House by the same circuitous route that Jo and Ben had brought their colleagues the previous evening. A spectre at the feast who knew that his heartrate was increasing with every single step, returning for one last visit, to haunt anyone that was setting out to destroy what he had spent half his lifetime preserving. 'Come on Harry, you've still got the strength to do this,' he kept trying to convince himself.


How on earth they'd managed to keep it to a need to know basis that the head of counter terrorism had been missing for over four weeks, Ros wasn't quite sure, but even the DG had been led to believe that Harry was still sitting behind his desk and repelling the advancing hoards. Blake had known almost from the beginning, but then he hadn't been about to tell anyone had he? This though she hoped gave them an advantage, in that Harry would be able to come and go as he pleased, without any 'where the hell have you been Harry?' Comments, being hurled at him from every corner.

She also realised that his decision to leave Ruth unprotected all bar Malcolm wouldn't have been taken lightly, so she needed to keep this conversation business-like and steer herself away from her usual tendency to become over flippant. Nominally he was still her boss, but she'd heard and seen enough over the past few weeks to know that this was going to be Harry's swan song, so apart from her prime objective which was a successful conclusion to what had been a stressful few weeks, she wanted to avoid another guilt trip like the one that had seen Ruth exiled. If one or the other of them came out of this with anything more than a scratch then she'd never forgive herself and if it was Ruth that was hurt, then she dreaded what it would do to Harry. So she went with the obvious.

'It's good to see you Harry you're looking well,' she told him, marvelling at the obvious change, before she shook his hand and Alec arrived with the coffee.

It had been at least five years since Harry had seen Alec White being escorted out of Thames House, far the worse for wear, and he was pleasantly surprised to see how well he appeared to have adjusted to being back at five. If he and Ros had found a way to work together without tearing strips off each other, then maybe the future would be in safe hands and not the disaster that he'd been envisaging.

'Not exactly the meeting room is it, but I can understand your need for caution,' he answered Ros, impatiently waiting for them to bring him up to date, as they sat on either side of the table, where less than twenty four hours ago she and Alec had briefed their assets.

Their plan was at best is a sketchy one they told Harry. Jo was attempting to track Connie, although she appeared to be taking her on the same wild goose chase as she had Ben. Tessa they'd decided had probably researched and supplied the manpower and equipment that had enabled them to set the devices, and GCHQ had confirmed that the analyst to all intents and purposes had done her job and was long gone.

The device on Tower Bridge they presumed had been primed as a decoy to create short term chaos, when the emergency services would be deployed on mass to a point far enough away from the bigger prize. The fact that they'd disabled it and it wouldn't go off, might make Connie more cautious, but step back from the brink never, it wasn't in her nature, assuming that they were able to let this thing play out to the end, and that very much depended on what he discovered today. They had approximately four hours before the race started and less than six before the first of the runners reached what they now knew was the intended target.

'Tariq's narrowed the list of buildings down to seven that stretch for a distance of about five hundred metres,' Alec told him. 'What we need you to do is to discover any locations where someone can fire off a shot and then escape undetected,' had been Harry's idea, but he kept his council. This wasn't the time to be petty.

'What about Blake, any news on him?' he asked instead, remembering Ruth's threat when he'd said that he wanted to tear bits off him.

'Like you he has the power to go anywhere Harry, so there is every possibility that you might bump into him, but that's a chance that we have to take and you're the boss after all, so it's your decision how you deal with him,' wasn't all together helpful, bearing in mind what Harry had in mind.

'Tariq will be on the monitor and I'll be the voice in your ear the whole time, and we've fixed you up with a wing man who will watch your back,' Ros told him, as Ben's friend John walked into the room, carrying one of Harry's smart suit's and a tie, and shook his hand warmly.

'Very new Sir,' John answered Harry question as to who he was, as Ros pointed out that both Connie and Blake would recognise any of the regular staff, whereas John would be able to blend in unnoticed.

Close to the forefront of Harry's mind, were phrases like god help me, and he hoped that blending in didn't refer to body parts on the wallpaper, which in most government buildings was generally red. But in deference to Ros's new status, he held his tongue.

'We've got the cavalry standing by, so promise me you won't do anything stupid,' were Ros's last words to Harry, before he and John walked back out into the afternoon sunshine, with a small handgun tucked safely inside Harry's jacket.


With strict instructions that he had to do exactly what Harry told him, John tagged along beside him, more than a little overawed by the fact that he was accompanying a knight of the realm into who knows what in some of the city's most important buildings. It didn't take long for John to realise that Harry wasn't one for chit chat, but he was nervous and needed to concentrate and the only way he could do that was to reflect.

His early relationship with Ben had been at university when they'd studied journalism together and had shared rooms, after which they'd gone their separate ways. When his father had been killed in Afghanistan, he'd been briefly tempted to join the army, but instead he'd come back to London in search of his friend and the rest as they say was history.

Unable to find work he'd learnt to survive on his own and one good thing about living on the streets was that you learnt how to read people, something that he hoped would be useful in the next few hours.

It had been less than two weeks since Ben had sought him out and over a couple of pints had told him that he had given up journalism and was working for the security services and had recruited him. After a week of shadowing Jo to make up the numbers, he hoped what it had taught him, would be sufficient to see him through the next few hours. It felt totally surreal, except that it wasn't, because Harry was the best according to Jo and you did as he said, otherwise your life wouldn't be worth living. Who Harry actually was and quite where he'd appeared from he had no idea, but given the chance to place a bet, he would have put everything he had on the fact that Harry had been in the military. His manner, the way he walked at a steady and even pace, he exuded power and that slowly gave John the confidence that he needed, which was just as well. They were less than ten minutes from their first objective, the Home Office.


Away from all the varying thoughts and emotions that were flooding the minds of the other members of section D, Connie alone had no such worries. With nothing to live for any more, deserted by her lord and masters who had promised her salvation, she'd set herself on a course to the promised land. It had been oh so easy to give Jo the slip, the consummate spy with years of practice, not as fit as she once was, but with enough guile to pull it off. And as for Harry, did he really believe that it was his idea and not realise that she'd set things up, so that he'd be tempted out of his hidey hole to come and find her? As for Nicholas poor devil, it had been a piece of cake. If there was one thing that Harry had been right about during all the years that she'd known him, was that you didn't have to look very far to find a corrupt politician.

It was really quite pleasant sitting here in her room overlooking the Thames, with the sun sparkling off the water. Her only regret was that she wouldn't be around tomorrow to see the chaos of her creation. Never mind neither would Harry, other than perhaps the odd piece of him.