Important notice! I posted a chapter of They Seek Him Here yesterday but I'm pretty sure the notification didn't reach most/all of you who've been reading this story. So if you haven't read yesterday's chapter do go back and check it out :)

The reason I think the notification didn't go out, by the way, is because I posted the first chapter of my Walking Dead/Jekyll and Hyde mash-up Doctor Blake and Mr Hyde, and I think this site only sends one notification per person per day. This is the story I'll be focusing on once They Seek Him Here is done.

Onwards! Or, backwards first to Chapter 21 ... then onwards!

...

'Can this wait, Walsh? I'm busy.'

Comrade Walsh slammed the door to Blake's office shut, a sour expression on his face. 'You don't look busy to me,' he said.

Blake clenched his jaw. Perhaps sitting behind his desk thinking murderous thoughts didn't look outwardly busy, but Blake was thoroughly engaged, and he wasn't in the mood for a Party tantrum. Every time there was the smallest security breach or unfavourable rumour circling the populace the Party blamed the Stasi. Blake had bigger things to worry about. If Beth had escaped East Berlin just days after being released from the Stasi prison he was going to have some serious problems from very high up in the very near future.

Walsh stood in front of him, studying his face. No, studying his injury. He'd finally removed the bandages and now wore a black leather eye-patch.

'It's a good look on you,' Walsh said. 'Makes you seem duplicitous.' He said this with a disdainful thrust of his chin and Blake realised that it wasn't the Stasi that Walsh was upset with. It was him. Blake knew all to well that there were several things that Walsh might be legitimately angry with him about. He'd best proceed carefully.

Blake sat forward, giving Walsh a smile. 'Why don't you sit down,' he said, in a more welcoming manner, and Walsh sat in the chair opposite his desk.

'You've screwed me, Blake,' Walsh said, his eyes flashing and insolent. 'You're abusing your powers and I'm going to see to it that you pay.'

Blake kept his face blank. Was he talking about the bugging, or was he talking about sleeping with Frau Grimes? Walsh was angry, but it seemed like a professional rather than personal affront.

It must be about the bugging. How the hell had he found out?

There was still a chance to appease Walsh, as Walsh had come directly to him rather than going over his head. Had Beth had a hand in this? Perhaps she'd gone to Lori before she'd disappeared. How could someone so small become such a massive headache?

Blake got up and went to the table beneath the window, and poured two tumblers of whisky. 'I know what you've come to see me about, Comrade Walsh. I assure you I find it as despicable as you do.' He held out a glass to Walsh but he ignored it. He put the glass down close to the other man and sat back down.

Walsh scoffed at this. 'You find it despicable? You've put a Party member under surveillance! You've abused the trust between –' He shook his head. 'No, fuck the niceties. You've screwed me, Blake. I expect you to resign.'

Blake couldn't remember how many meetings he'd sat in on with the Party where they'd insisted on more informants, more taps, more secret police. East Germany was outstripping Russia in terms of intelligence spending and paranoia. And yet Comrade Walsh had the gall to barge into his office and complain about being under surveillance. He was a goddamn hypocrite.

'We've both been screwed, Walsh.' He took a sip of whisky.

'What?'

'I've been screwed. You've been screwed. And by the same person. She's a born and bred East Berliner but the fascists have got to her somehow. I had her – I had her in Hohenschönhausen for nearly two weeks. I personally oversaw her interrogation, but she didn't break.'

Walsh stared at him, incredulous. 'Are you talking about your secretary?'

He touched his hand briefly to his eyepatch. 'There's a lot more to that girl than meets the – well, let's just say there's a lot more to that girl that one might expect.'

Walsh shook his head, disbelief written all over his face. 'She told you to spy on me and Lori and you just did it?'

In a nut-shell, yes. I have an excellent sense of irony. 'I had no choice.'

He could tell this didn't appease Walsh. He tried another tack. 'She's trying to turn us on each other, Walsh. That's what the fascists want. That's how they will win. But we can't let them win.'

'Don't fob me off with propaganda, Blake. I churn out bullshit all day. I need to know why you did it.'

Blake spread his hands. 'I wish I could tell you what she said to throw suspicion onto the two of you but I can't. It has to do with certain recent defections over the Wall. We're still following up everything she told us and it's classified.' He leaned forward, frowning deeply. 'It has to stay that way, because she's disappeared.'

'The hell she has,' Walsh said, but there was more surprise than heat in his voice. Walsh thought about this for a moment. Blake saw that the man's anger was diminishing and felt a little rush of self-satisfaction.

'I ceased the surveillance of you and Frau Grimes several days ago,' Blake lied. 'I can provide you with the reports and you can destroy them yourself.' They're so dull I won't even keep copies.

There was a knock at the door.

'Come.'

A Stasi soldier entered, followed by the young woman whom Blake supposed was Beth's sister. She was flanked by two more soldiers. 'Commandant. We have brought Miss Greene for questioning as requested.'

Blake shot a look at Walsh. He had turned and was staring at the girl. Blake couldn't have asked for better timing.

He stood and dismissed the soldiers. Miss Greene stood in the centre of the room, staring at the ground, though he could see that she was scowling, not crying. He felt a flash of irritation. Was she going to be as stubborn as her sister? Where the hell had all the timid women gone?

He turned to Walsh. 'Comrade Walsh, shall we return to this matter tomorrow? I will have the reports you requested ready for you then.'

Walsh turned and gave Blake a long, assessing look. Blake saw that Beth's sister's appearance had worked it's magic - the heat of anger had left his eyes. Walsh nodded. 'All right, Blake.' He left and closed the door behind him.

When they were alone Blake sat and watched Miss Maggie Greene for several minutes. She was a little older than Beth, and taller and stronger, too. She didn't have the delicacy that he'd admired in Beth, or her pretty doll-like eyes. This Miss Greene was probably the more outwardly truthful: she wore her wilfulness right there on her face.

Finally he said, 'You're not in any trouble, Miss Greene. I just wanted to talk to you about your sister. I'm worried about her. Won't you sit down?'

…

'That's it? You're not going to take it any higher?' Lori stared at Shane, unable to believe her ears.

They were at Lori's dining table, eating dinner. He sat back, looking uncomfortable. 'I can't. It's not his fault that –'

'Not his fault? Blake is the one who ordered the surveillance. They're probably listening to us right now.'

He shook his head. 'They stopped several days ago.'

Sometimes Shane could be so dim that it hurt. Could he see that Blake was a consummate liar? No, he couldn't see, and he couldn't see what else was going on right under his nose either.

How could she go to work and face that man knowing that he'd not only invaded her professional life but her personal life as well? He was a dirty little secret she never wanted to have, and now he was in her apartment as well. One of his spiders listened to her in the bathroom. On the phone. In bed with Shane. There was no escape. It made her sick.

'Who's really in charge, Shane?' she asked, topping up her wine glass. 'Them, or you? Did he at least tell you why?'

Walsh sighed. 'That other secretary of his. The one who stabbed him in the eye. She told him we had something to do with the recent escapes, and now she's disappeared.'

'Beth? Beth did this?' Lori understood at last what it meant to be incandescent with rage. Beth, who knew her most shameful secret, who acted so sweet and innocent, whom Lori had trusted – she'd just fingered them for no reason?

Shane picked up his fork and went on eating, sinking into a sullen silence. Lori sipped her wine, her mind ticking over.

Beth attacks Blake, winds up in prison, and somewhere along the way accuses her and Shane of working with traitors. Then she gets out of prison and disappears. And this on top of Rick somehow knowing that she was sleeping with Blake. She wasn't an informant and she wasn't trained by the Stasi, but she knew that when things didn't add up they deserved a second look.

The question was, who was going to be the most useful to her: Shane, the commandant, or Rick?

…

Maggie tried not to feel intimidated by the commandant's wood-panelled office, the desk he was sitting behind, his large physical presence. But she was. The eye-patch made her uncomfortable, too. His one good eye seemed to bore into her.

'How long ago did you last see your sister, Maggie?'

Maggie shrugged. 'A few days ago. I don't know.'

Blake frowned. 'You don't know?'

Maggie'd had time to think of what she was going to tell Blake on the way to his office. She didn't know if her strategy was going to work, but it was all she had. 'I work long hours. I queue for food. Sometimes we don't see each other for a few days together. And if truth be told I haven't been keeping a close eye on her since she came out of prison.' She fixed him with a baleful look. 'Why, what's she gone and done now?'

Blake looked at her closely. 'You're not close to your sister?'

'Beth's a troublemaker, and I keep out of her way. Both me and Shawn. He's a border guard.'

'Are you aware that she's disappeared?'

Maggie rolled her eyes, warming to her performance. 'See? Troublemaker. I wash my hands of that girl.'

She spied a letter opener on his desk and wondered if it was the same one. Rapist. Murderer. It'd almost be worth taking your other eye right now.

'I see,' said Blake. 'So you don't have any idea where she might be?'

'Nope.'

'Does she have a boyfriend?'

'Not that I've met.'

Commandant Blake watched her for several long minutes, his one good eye assessing her. Maggie pretended to be bored, looking around his office at the insignias and picture. Her heart was racing and all the while she was thinking, Beth had nearly two weeks of this man, beating and torturing her. I can keep it together for one interview.

'Can I go now?' she finally said. 'My brother's always hungry when he comes off shift and I've got to start his dinner.'

Blake nodded, and Maggie walked to the door and let herself out, her movements unhurried. He didn't stop her, but she also was sure that he didn't quite believe her.

…

Beth watched in horror as the torchlight faded and scrabbled through her backpack for another set of batteries. She'd been caught out like this once before, plunged into utter blackness when her torch had died, and she hated the sensation. The deserted stretches of the U-Bahn were dark as a tomb.

Her hands closed over the batteries – and the torch died. Don't panic. You can change the batteries with your eyes closed. Doing it in the dark is no different.

She sat down on the rocky ground, placing the fresh batteries in her lap and unscrewing the torch to take the old ones out. In a few minutes she was finished and clicked the torch on. The tunnel was illuminated once more and she breathed a sigh of relief.

And then froze when she heard a crunch behind her. Several crunches. More than one person.

There was a chuckle, and a deep, male voice said, 'We got a rat here, buddies. Ain't ever seen a blonde rat before.'

Beth heard the unmistakeable sound of a gun being cocked, and her heart sank.

...

If you were wondering why Blake said 'the fascists have got to her' when he talked about Beth being a possible traitor, the communists referred to westerners as fascists. They also put it about that all the Nazis (actual fascists) in WWII originated in West Germany. How's that for rewriting history?