"We've got a name!" Beth called out, her voice betraying her relief. The facial recognition software had been churning all night and half the morning with no results, and she'd started to get a bit tetchy about the whole thing. The wire taps on Hassan's phone confirmed that the package he'd handed off the night before was the Seva Gola, and Harry had quietly asked Ruth to help Beth with the hunt for their mystery buyer. Ruth had reached out to a few contacts at GCHQ; her network there was nowhere near as extensive as it had been back in the early days of her tenure with MI-5, but she still knew how to get her hands on information, and quickly. So far, she hadn't found any chatter that corresponded to Hassan and the Seva Gola, and she shared Beth's frustrations.

"Who is it?" Ruth asked eagerly, leaning over Beth's shoulder to get a better look at the computer screen.

"Hannah McCallister. She's a nurse, at a private clinic. Married, no children, no history of criminal activity, not even a traffic violation."

Ruth stared at the picture of the redhead on the screen. Hannah McCallister didn't look like a suicide bomber, a fanatic on the warpath. She just looked…normal. Nice, even.

It wouldn't be the first time they'd seen an ordinary citizen used as a weapon, though, Ruth thought grimly. Dimly she recalled a man – Nazeem…something – imprisoned for a crime he didn't commit, forced into criminality to save his family, very nearly murdered by Zaf on Harry's orders. I've been here too long, she thought, realizing that the only person in the entire section who would recall that particular op, or even Zaf himself, was Harry.

"How do you want to play this?" she asked Beth, carefully watching to see how the girl would respond, given the opportunity to take charge.

"I'll be Hannah's new best friend. We'll bug her house and her phone, and I'll gain her trust, see if we can't figure out what this is all about."

Ruth nodded, satisfied. Beth was young, but enthusiastic and empathetic, with a sweet little face that so easily hid her calculating nature. It had only taken a matter of days for Beth to worm her way into Ruth's life, and given how high the stakes were now, she had no doubt that Beth was up to the task of doing the same to Hannah McCallister.

"Good. I'll speak to Harry. Be ready to brief the team in thirty minutes."

"Thank you," Beth said earnestly, giving her a look that said all too plainly that she understood the trust that Ruth was placing in her, and that she fully intended to rise to the occasion.

Good luck, Ruth thought.


"Do you think she's ready for that?" Harry asked, watching her through hooded eyes.

Ruth bristled at the question. If I didn't think she was ready for it I wouldn't be standing here, telling you to let her take the lead.

"I do. She organized the surveillance, she found the buyer. We'll be with her, every step of the way. Beth is a member of this team, Harry, and it's time we started treating her like one."

Harry nodded. "Good. Do we have any thoughts on what this McCallister woman's endgame might be?"

Ruth shook her head. "We're pulling her bank statements and her call logs, but it will take some time to comb through the data. In the meantime, the quickest way to find out what she's up to is to get someone in there with her. Beth is putting together a plan now, and she'll be ready to brief in twenty minutes."

Harry stared at the photograph of their suspect Ruth had run off for him. "She doesn't look like a terrorist."

"They don't, any more."

Harry grunted, a soft, rough sound of agreement. Oh, how the times had changed, and no one knew it better than he.

I'll have to tell him soon, Ruth realized with a start, holding a stack of files low in front of her stomach, in a clumsy attempt to hide herself from him. She'd promised herself a month, a month to keep this secret and pray that she wouldn't lose the baby, and that month was over. It had actually officially ended three days ago, but she'd stretched out the time frame, wanting to wait for the scan. Well, she had four hours until her appointment, and then she'd be out of excuses. She studied the lines of his face; no doubt he was deep in thought about the realities of fighting terrorism in the digital age, when social media bred fanatics in the most unlikely places and a mobile phone could be dangerous than a gun. There was a much more immediate threat to his status quo hiding in that office with him, a little ticking time bomb no bigger than a lime that would change both of their lives irrevocably. That already had changed Ruth's.

Tomorrow, she decided. Go to the appointment, come back to work, get some sleep, and tell him tomorrow.


"As luck would have it, the hospital where Hannah McCallister is employed is hiring nurses," Beth said, leaning forward across the table, unable to keep the eagerness from her voice. "In the maternity ward, where she works. I can be in place as early as tomorrow."

Harry was steadfastly refusing to meet her gaze, but Ruth had been so encouraging, throughout this briefing. Every time Beth had faltered, Ruth had been there, smoothly filling in the gaps, directing everyone's attention to the matter at hand. That didn't escape Beth's notice, nor, it would seem, did it escape Harry's. Had they fought about it, Beth wondered, mummy and daddy disagreeing about how much freedom they should allow their wayward daughter? It was a good plan, Beth thought, the best they could manage on short notice, and they desperately needed to get to McCallister before things turned ugly. Harry was the one who would determine whether she could be trusted with this responsibility, and she could only hope that whatever Ruth had said to him had convinced him to give her the reins.

"What's the significance of the Seva Gola?" Dimitri asked, flipping through the report Beth had cobbled together the night before.

As one Harry and Ruth tensed, and stole a brief, loaded glance at one another. What the hell is that about? Beth wondered.

"It's a combination trigger/detonator system. Runs off radio frequency, impossible to jam. Has a 99% success rate," Ruth explained in a quiet voice, her eyes focused on the table and refusing to face any of the rest of the team.

"And almost impossible for a low-level arms dealer like Hassan to get his hands on. Any idea where he found his?" Harry asked, turning to Beth.

She shook her head. That was one of many disappointments in an op that had so far been littered with confusion and inaccuracy. It was incredibly frustrating, to know that she had finally been given the lead, had finally earned some of that trust she had so desperately longed for, and so far she had almost nothing to show for it. She had to do better, and she would do better.

"We can't be sure where it came from, but our main concern now has to be where it's going, and what Hannah McCallister wants with it." She hadn't intended it to come out quite so harsh, but the moment the words were out of her mouth Beth realized how petulant she sounded. "I can do this, Harry," she added, trying to sound like she was asking, and not telling.

For a long moment he said nothing at all, just gave her his best disapproving father look and steepled his hands together in front of him. Once again, he was seated at the head of the table, Ruth at his right hand, Dimitri on his left, Beth and Tariq rounding out the bunch like little children relegated to the periphery while the adults talked about more pressing matters.

"All right. You have a go. Tariq can get your kit sorted, and Ruth can finish going over the data we've pulled on McCallister. Be very, very careful, Miss Bailey," he added, as if that weren't a given. Beth resisted the urge to throw her hands up in the air and give a little victorious cry. Time to go to work.


Oh, just say something already, Ruth admonished herself. She needed to leave, needed to have left five minutes ago if she were honest, but she found herself dawdling. Harry had given her a task and it wasn't completed yet, but it was time for her appointment and she desperately didn't want to reschedule. In order to leave, though, she'd need to speak to him first, to explain where she was going, and that meant lying to him. Again.

With some smooth talking and a very impressive, very fake C.V. Beth had managed to secure herself an interview at the hospital, where she would be meeting with none other than Hannah McCallister, head nurse on the maternity ward. While Ruth was incredibly pleased at Beth's performance so far, she had to admit that she was feeling a bit disappointed, as well. She was going to see the peanut for the first time today, was going to hear his little heartbeat and hold a picture of him in her hands, and the thought of facing this momentous occasion on her own was incredibly depressing. It was all thanks to Beth that she'd found out about the peanut in the first place, and, though she probably would have come to that conclusion on her own in time, she felt a certain sense of gratitude to the girl, for helping her face facts. And she was thankful, too, for all Beth's quiet words of understanding. Beth's steady presence at the last appointment was the only thing that had held Ruth together; how was she going to cope, facing this alone?

Just do it, Evershed, she told herself, rising from her chair and making her way to Harry's office on unsteady feet.

"I'm off out, Harry," she said, leaning against his open door, not trusting herself to step all the way inside and face him head on.

His head jerked up from the file he'd been reading. "Where are you going?"

"To meet Richard Brewer, Beth's asset. You remember, the-"

"The right-wing nutjob who couldn't be bothered to give you a straight answer last time," Harry finished for her. There was something in his eyes, just the faintest hint of doubt, and Ruth was reminded once again how well he knew her. Could he see that she was lying? What did he think she was hiding?

"It's probably a waste of time, but we said we'd give him one more chance, and since Beth's busy…." Ruth trailed off, left her thought hanging. There was no need to finish it; Harry knew what she was going to say.

"All right, but don't let him keep you too long. I've got a bad feeling about this Seva Gola business."

You and me both, she thought.

"I'll be back as soon as I can."

He gave her a little smile, and returned his attention to the paperwork in front of him, effectively dismissing her. Ruth left his office with fear and doubt roiling in her stomach. Here we go.


"All right, Louisa, here we go!" Doctor Peters declared cheerily, and Ruth fought the urge to roll her eyes. She didn't do well with exuberant people, any more. She had done, once, had been quite happy and had quite enjoyed surrounding herself with happy people, but these days she much preferred a quieter crowd. One quiet person, in particular, sprang to mind.

Doctor Peters started the scan, and all traces of irritation and anxiety left her at once as the steady sound of the peanut's heartbeat came echoing out of the speakers.

"Oh my God," she said softly, hardly daring to breathe, raising one hand to cover her mouth as she stared at the screen. It was all grainy and grey, a bit like the video feeds in the forgery suite on a bad night, but somewhere in all that mess was a baby. After a moment, Doctor Peters got a lock on him, and Ruth's eyes filled with tears unbidden.

Hello, peanut.

There he was. There was her baby. He wasn't really moving, just sort of floating there, but he was real, and Ruth could almost feel the world tilt beneath her feet. Doctor Peters gave her a warm little smile; no doubt she recognized the emotions playing across Ruth's face, but in that moment Ruth did not begrudge any assumptions the doctor might be making about her mental state. Ruth was overwhelmed and overcome, and she couldn't bring herself to care who knew it. For a few minutes she simply sat and stared, spellbound by the steady thrumming sound of her baby's heart and the sight of him, tiny and curled almost into a ball and so obviously, undeniably present.

"Heartbeat is strong and steady. The baby's a good size. Everything looks good in there," Doctor Peters said reassuringly.

Harry should be here, Ruth thought, letting a few more tears fall before furiously scrubbing at her face, trying to bring her warring emotions under control.

"Can I have a copy of the scan?" Ruth asked, her voice rough and unsteady. She had half a mind to stick the photo in her wallet, to carry it around with her everywhere she went, a constant reminder of this moment, and the way she felt, looking at her baby for the first time.

Doctor Peters nodded. "Of course you can, I was just about to ask if you wanted one. I'll run it off for you right now." She got up, started fiddling with the machine, signaling that the time for staring at the peanut was drawing to a close.

"Actually," Ruth said, reaching out to place a gentle hand on the doctor's arm, drawing her attention back. "Could I have two?"