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Sorry this took me longer than expected to post - real life got in the way...

Requiem for a Love Affair

Chapter 3

The days slipped past and the reality of Oliver Mace's forthcoming appointment tainted the atmosphere on the Grid. Adam and Zaf spent every spare moment discreetly trying to find anything they could use against him. Another attempt to persuade Harry to take up Adam's suggestion ended in a sharp exchange of words.

"No!"

"But Harry…"

"I said no and I mean no! Do you understand?"

A tense silence followed as Adam appeared to consider pushing the subject further. Eventually he spoke. "Yes, I understand."

The disagreement left Harry feeling unsettled. He was determined not to use Ruth but he needed a way of removing Mace from the scene, preferably permanently. Adam's idea was good and he didn't doubt the assertion that Ruth would be willing to have her death used as a means to solve their problem. The stumbling block was Harry himself; he didn't want to do anything that would extinguish the faint hope he clung onto that he could clear her name and give her the chance to come back to her old life; to come back to him.

Zaf watched Adam leave Harry's office and walk back across the Grid. He knew from the discussion he had observed that their plan had been rejected. He blew out a frustrated breath and wondered, not for the first time, why Mace seemed to be squeaky clean; the only blot on his career the Cotterdam business and they had needed to fabricate evidence to prove his part in that.

"No good then?"

"He just won't do it mate." Adam stood in front of his desk, anger clearly etched on his face. "We just have to keep digging. There has to be something we can use against that scumbag."

Zaf leant back in his seat, tapping a pen against his teeth as he considered his response. "We could just go with your idea and not tell Harry. See what we can put together and keep it as a back-up plan…"

Adam shot a quick glance over his shoulder. "We need to be extremely careful. You know Harry has this knack for finding out everything that is going on."

xxxxxxxxxxxxx

Ruth checked her bag for the fourth time that morning. She knew she had everything she needed but the ritual of mentally ticking off each item as she pulled them out of the small backpack gave her reassurance. She looked up and down the platform, noting who was waiting and whether they seemed to be paying her any attention; an old habit that had become more important recently.

The Milan train pulled in on time and Ruth found a window seat, close to the door and with a good view of the rest of the carriage. More tradecraft she thought ruefully. The journey took just over an hour and she used the time to go over her plan. She had identified three internet cafes she could use, allowing herself an hour in each. She didn't dare risk any more time than that in case any of her online activities were traced, not that she intended for that to happen.

The train arrived at Milano Centrale station on schedule, Mussolini's influence on the railways still in evidence. Ruth walked briskly until she located the small side street where her first stopping point was. Having secured one of the computers near the back of the café, she worked quickly, loading the keystroke blocking software she had obtained the previous week on her trip to Lugano. She didn't dare risk using her own laptop and internet connection to either obtain the programs she needed or carry out the hacking she was about to do. She tried not to think about what would happen to her if she got caught.

Ruth knew exactly where she was going to start and a search of the Land Registry database showed Harry's house had not changed ownership. The next check was on the local authority database; he was still listed, under a legend, on the electoral roll. She felt partially reassured by these discoveries; at least he was still at the same address. Ruth checked her watch – fifteen minutes of her hour's access left. She removed her software from the computer and then spent a few minutes looking at an online guide to Milan.

The next location was a short ride away on the metro. Ruth worked quickly, searching the Revenue and Customs database that contained the tax records of all Security and Intelligence Service staff. Confirmation that even spooks weren't exempt from the second of life's two certainties. It didn't take long to locate Harry's details and Ruth sent up a silent prayer of thanks for the day Malcolm had decided he needed to share the burden of knowledge of some of the Grid's more sensitive secrets. Her brow furrowed as she studied the screen. He was still there, his status shown as 'active'. She wasn't entirely sure if that was a good thing. Her thoughts were interrupted by a giggling young German couple who were trying to share the seat at the computer next to her and she decided it was time to move on.

Ruth's final stop was on the other side of the city. Her palms were sweating and she felt slightly sick as she entered the café. This was going to be the riskiest part of her day. Her heart pounded as she hit the enter key and waited for the password cracking software to work. After what seemed like an eternity she was in, the familiar welcome screen of MI5's system in front of her. She knew she could only risk a few minutes on the Thames House databases so she would have to limit her searches. HR records for Harry confirmed he was still head of Section D; she checked the 'pending actions' section: nothing. If Harry intended to resign when Mace was appointed, he clearly hadn't done anything about it yet.

Her final check was on his marital status – he was still shown as divorced and living alone. She felt a dizzying sense of relief then she felt guilty; she wanted him to be happy but she didn't want him to find happiness with someone else. Deciding she had risked enough time, she closed her connection to Thames House and randomly surfed websites before stepping out in the lunchtime crowds.

Ruth walked through the busy streets deep in thought. She had been expecting to find that Harry had left the service and moved away; instead he seemed he'd decided to play the long game where Mace was concerned. The conclusion left her feeling uneasy. What if Harry's plans backfired? She'd been set-up to take the blame for Maudsley's death relatively easily. Only a very small number of people knew she was still alive; if anyone else found out the truth it would put her and Harry at risk. She would need to be extra vigilant from now on.

xxxxxxxxxxxxx

Harry stuck his head round the door of the forgery suite. "Ah, there you are, I need to talk to you about something. Meet me in The Colonies at eight o'clock this evening."

Malcolm cleared his throat before replying nervously, "Er, right. What did you want to discuss?"

"Not here." In response to the worried look on his colleague's face, Harry continued, "I'm not asking you out on a bloody date Malcolm! Just meet me, OK?"

"Yes, yes, of course." Malcolm groaned inwardly. Harry must know that Zaf had asked him to do some research into the removal of the seven terrorist suspects from Cotterdam prison.

----

Harry had picked The Colonies as it was slightly off the beaten track and just that little bit too far to be a regular watering hole for the occupants of either Thames House or Vauxhall Cross. It was also on the small side but he regarded that as an advantage today. He pushed the door open and blinked slightly against the smoky atmosphere. He located Malcolm, sitting at a table tucked into the corner and nursing the remnants of a drink.

"Sorry I'm late. Do you want another drink?"

"Um, gin and tonic please Harry."

Malcolm fiddled nervously with a beer mat wondering whether he should admit straightaway what he'd been doing. Just as he made a decision to tell the truth, Harry spoke:

"The reason I want to speak to you is to establish how difficult it would be do something and what the risks are."

"Um, alright."

"How easy would it be to 'borrow' the Number 10 Press Office website?"

"Borrow it?" Malcolm repeated slowly.

"Yes. Say we wanted to place certain information in the public domain and attribute it to Number 10." Harry took a small sip of his drink and watched his colleague keenly.

"It would be relatively straightforward. We've done similar things before; spoofed websites and put out fake stories."

"Ah, but this wouldn't be a fake story. It would be true – it just can't be seen to have come from us. And it has to be on the real Number 10 website."

Malcolm considered Harry's words carefully. "I'd need to do as much preparation beforehand as possible. I'd need the story in advance so that I could make up the webpages. I'd also need to do a couple of 'dry runs' to ensure they haven't tightened their security."

Harry raised an eyebrow at the last remark. "Shouldn't we be encouraging them to up their security?"

"Well, we don't want to make it too difficult for ourselves do we." Malcolm gave a small smile.

"I suppose not. So, theoretically, it's a relatively straightforward thing to do?" Harry spoke quietly, ever watchful of people near them.

"Yes." Malcolm hesitated. "What's the story you have in mind?"

"Ah, all in good time."

xxxxxxxxxxxxx

Juliet's final day as National Security Co-ordinator was to be concluded with a leaving party of the kind only those in prominent political or civil service positions could expect. It was being held at the Cabinet Office and a number of the great and the good had been invited. Security for the event was being overseen by the Metropolitan Police Specialist Protection Unit with assistance from MI5. This arrangement had been the cause of some consternation.

"So we're supposed to let plod organise it all?" Adam responded scornfully when the security arrangements were revealed.

"Yes. We just have to ensure they don't cock it up." Harry didn't bother to hide the irritation he felt.

----

Looking round the room Harry had to admit that Juliet had garnered quite an impressive turnout.

"The Home Secretary, Secretary of State for Defence, Cabinet Secretary, DGs from 5 and 6 and the Commissioner of Police all gathered together in one place; my God, it's like an Al Qaeda wet dream." He turned to face Adam before continuing, "let's hope nothing goes wrong."

"Good job we're here keeping an eye on things then." Something in the periphery of the younger man's vision attracted his attention. "Oh shit."

Harry followed his gaze. Oliver Mace had arrived and was starting to circulate; shaking hands warmly and being feted like the Prodigal son. Eventually, his eyes settled on the two men watching him and he strode over to them.

"Harry; long time no see," he sneered his greeting.

"Oliver."

"I see you've brought your minder with you." He looked at Adam as if he was something unpleasant he'd trod in.

"We're looking after security as you know full well Oliver." Adam returned Mace's look with an equally disdainful one of his own.

"Of course. Let's hope there aren't any incidents then." The emphasis was not lost on either man.

Before the conversation could continue, Juliet rolled up. "Getting reacquainted? How lovely." Not giving any of them a chance to reply, she ploughed on, "Oliver, there are a couple of people you really must speak to."

Mace looked at her and decided not to argue. He followed her across the room acutely aware of the two pairs of eyes gazing intently at his retreating back.

----

Once the speeches were over and some of the more heavyweight guests had gone, Harry decided it was time to leave. His eyes roamed the room until he located Juliet who was being bored senseless by some junior Minister. She gave him an imploring look and he took pity on her, rescuing her with an excuse of needing to talk to her urgently.

"Thank you." Juliet sounded genuinely grateful.

"I'm calling it a night."

"Really? Do you have to?"

"I don't think I can take any more bonhomie." Harry was watching Mace ingratiate himself with someone from Counter Terrorism Command.

Juliet studied him for a minute, contemplating her farewell. "Look after yourself Harry."

He leant down and kissed her cheek. "And you. Don't rattle too many cages."

She gave a short laugh and placed her hand on his arm. "And don't do anything stupid." He raised an eyebrow in response. "I mean it Harry."

He nodded and smiled at her, "I know; I'll behave."

As he straightened up, she squeezed his hand. "Bye."

"Bye Juliet."

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