Disclaimer: Unfortunately, I still don't own anything...
Thanks Em!
Requiem for a Love Affair
Chapter 4
The incessant ringing of his mobile eventually cut through the fog of sleep that enveloped Harry. He felt for the phone and mumbled 'yes' into it. As he listened to the caller's voice, his head started to clear.
"When?" He was sitting up now. "How many of them?" He peered at the clock on his nightstand – 3.12 a.m. "Red flash my entire team, I'm on my way."
---
Half an hour later, Harry and his team were assembled in the meeting room armed with coffee and in various states of alertness.
"Right, one of the Cotterdam seven, Azhar al Khamir, escaped from Belmarsh Prison just after 2.30 this morning. He'd been taken to the South Eastern General Hospital after apparently suffering some kind of brain seizure."
"I thought Belmarsh had a state of the art hospital wing?" Adam interjected.
"Well, apparently not state of the art enough; the night duty doctor insisted al Khamir went to the South Eastern." Harry continued, "once in A&E he attacked his guards, killing one and seriously injuring the other. He then held a nurse at knifepoint and stole her car."
"And just drove off into the night?" It was Zaf's turn to interrupt.
"So it seems…" Before Harry could say anymore, a visitor was brought in to join them. He introduced himself as Detective Superintendent Ben Anderson from Counter Terrorism Command.
"Any more news for us Superintendent?" It was the only welcome the policeman was going to get.
"Just that al Khamir has abandoned the car he took." Anderson shifted uneasily as he looked at the expectant faces round the table.
"So is he in another vehicle, on foot or flying over the rooftops à la Mary Poppins, Superintendent?" Adam's tone was contemptuous.
"We think he's in another vehicle…"
"You think?"
"Local police had some problems following him; there'd been an RTC involving a delivery van and a night bus. They got caught up in that." From the look on Anderson's face, it was clear even he couldn't quite believe the information he was relaying.
"How the Hell did he get a chance to attack his guards in the first place?" Zaf voiced a question several of them had been contemplating.
"Seems the hospital staff refused to treat him whilst he was restrained. Remember, he'd been admitted having suffered a seizure."
"From which he seems to have miraculously recovered. The man's a convicted terrorist for Christ's sake!" Adam cut across the policeman's explanation.
"This isn't helping." Harry's authoritative tone brokered no argument. "Right, we need to find al Khamir and soon. Start to pull together the usual stuff; CCTV from the prison and hospital; details of any visitors he's had and personnel records for prison and hospital staff. I'm assuming he didn't arrange his escape by himself, so if we find who helped him, we find him."
---
Harry was on the phone when Adam appeared in the doorway of his office. He stood impatiently, waiting for the conversation to finish.
"Looks like al Khamir's been traced to a house in Deptford."
"Deptford? He didn't get far then."
"Seems not; I'm going down there now." Adam turned to leave.
"Hang on, I'm coming with you." Harry was already on his feet.
Police and Special Forces were already on the scene when they arrived, their vehicles lined up between the inner and outer cordons. The street was narrow, and portable floodlights bathed a tatty terraced house in bright, white light.
They located Anderson and headed towards him.
"So not going for a covert entry then?" The antagonism between Adam and the Superintendent was back.
"We can't. Its al Khamir's cousin's place; there are children inside."
Adam's tone softened slightly. "Has any contact been made with him yet?"
"The police negotiator has been talking to the cousin. He hasn't been able to persuade al Khamir to come to the phone."
"You're sure he's in there?" Harry looked doubtful as he asked the question.
"Yes, we've seen him at the window a couple of times."
Adam's earpiece crackled into life. "Alpha Foxtrot One, can you hear me?"
"Yes Malcolm."
"Alpha Foxtrot One, please use call-signs."
"Yes Alpha Foxtrot…" A loud electronic screech in his ear stopped Adam mid-sentence. "Shit!" He yanked out the piece of plastic as Harry tentatively tried his comms link. He too, was met with an ear-splitting, whistling noise.
"Christ, this is all we need," he muttered at Adam.
Movement in front of them distracted them from their discomfort; the front door of the target house was opening slowly. A small boy, no more than five or six years old, emerged, blinking against the bright lights. Shouts of 'stand still son' reverberated down the street. The child wavered and then stopped as an armed policeman started to walk slowly towards him.
"I'm coming out! I 'm coming out!" a male voice called out from just inside the house.
"Distraction technique – great!" Adam hissed at Harry.
Al Khamir emerged from the doorway, shaking and with his hands held in the air. "Don't shoot! I am unarmed. Please don't shoot!" His English was heavily accented and his voice choked with fear.
The policeman near the child had dropped to his knee and trained his gun on the terrorist. He shouted 'stand still' several times before al Khamir stopped, a couple of feet from the boy; both Harry and Adam were feeling increasingly uneasy with the situation.
"Hold your fire; he's too close to the boy." Harry spoke clearly but his instructions were greeted with static that filled his earpiece. He tapped Adam on the shoulder and indicated for him to move closer to the house. "Hold your fire. Repeat: hold your fire." There was more static, followed by faint voices and then several loud bangs. One of the floodlights shattered, spraying broken glass over Adam and the armed officers he was standing behind.
There was silence, then a child crying and a woman screaming. Suddenly, there was a rush of movement as police officers raced towards the house. Harry was now beside Adam and, as Anderson elbowed past them, someone shouted for a paramedic. A rush of voices in their earpieces gave them the first clue as to what had happened: al Khamir had been shot.
---
By the time the initial debriefing at the scene had been completed, it was nearly 3.00 a.m. Zaf had arrived just as they were finishing and insisted on driving them home. Their attempts to get him to take them back to Thames House were resolutely ignored and, ultimately, Harry had welcomed the sight of his front door. He headed straight for his bed, forgoing his customary nightcap.
Adam too had been glad of his younger colleague's insistence and had climbed wearily out of the car and let himself into his apartment. He peered round the door of Wes's bedroom and watched his son sleep for a few minutes before collapsing, fully clothed, onto his own bed.
xxxxxxxxxxxxx
Harry was back in Thames House by 7.30 a.m. He felt dreadful and his head was pounding; working solidly for twenty-four hours and then returning to the office after just a couple of hours sleep was taking its toll. He revised the thought; the stresses of the job were taking their toll but, above all, it was the gut-wrenching loneliness that was wearing him down. He missed Ruth; now more than ever. He briefly entertained one of his fantasies - writing out his resignation and emailing it the DG. He gave himself a mental shake – it was no good thinking like that, not today. Scanning the Grid, he saw Adam coming through the pods, closely followed by Jo and Zaf. None of them could have had much sleep either.
"Have any of you got some aspirin or paracetamol?" The question was clearly not one his officers expected to hear.
Jo broke the silence. "Um, I have some ibuprofen if that's any good?"
"That'll be fine, thanks." Strychnine might be even better he thought darkly.
The young blonde rummaged in her desk drawer and produced a slightly crumpled packet. "You shouldn't take them on an empty stomach…" she trailed off as she saw the look on Harry's face.
With a muttered 'thanks Jo' he took the packet, got a cup of water from the cooler and went back to his office. He didn't bother to read the instructions but downed four of the tablets not caring if it was too many. Leaning back in his seat, he closed his eyes and idly wondered how many tablets would constitute an ibuprofen overdose, and how long they would take to kick in; he was brought back to reality by the sound of footsteps outside his door.
"You OK?" Adam looked as tired as Harry felt.
"Fine, it's just…" he was interrupted by his phone. He rolled his eyes and picked up the receiver. The conversation was short and one-sided. Dropping the phone back in its cradle, he gave a heavy sigh. "That was the DG's office. My presence is required at eight o'clock."
"Is this about al Khamir?"
"Yes. CO19 are still denying it was their commanding officer who gave the order to shoot."
"So it's going to be a 'let's make sure our arses are covered' meeting then?"
"Oh yes," Harry said wearily.
---
Adam looked at his watch; Harry had been with the DG for nearly an hour; it wasn't a good sign. He went back to his report and read through it for the tenth time; there was nothing more he could add. He looked up at the sound of the pods opening and felt the hair on the back of his neck stand up. Harry was back – with two security guards and Debra Langham from HR in tow.
"Harry?"
"I've been suspended." There was no point sugar-coating the news.
"What?" Adam was standing up now.
"It seems CO19, Special Ops, Counter Terrorism, the DG and the Holy bloody Ghost for all I know, think I gave the order for al Khamir to be shot."
"But that's a load of bollocks! Our comms were screwed."
"I know that and you know that. But it seems we're in the minority. No one else had any problems." Harry was breathing hard, the effort of keeping his anger in check starting to tell on him. "I'm here to collect a couple of things from my office and then these gentlemen will see me off the premises."
"This is madness; there must be something we can do." Zaf spoke quietly and urgently into Adam's ear.
"Not now mate."
Harry collected his coat, opened one of his desk drawers and removed a notebook; he then picked up the gold pen lying on his desk and, with a quick glance round, headed for the door. A very nervous Debra Langham stopped him near the pods.
"I, I, er, just need to know what you've taken from your office Mr Pearce. It's for your own protection." She received one of Harry's particularly withering stares and, just for a moment, Adam almost felt sorry for her; almost.
Harry fished the small, black notebook and the pen from his pocket and handed them over. She gave the book a cursory glance and handed the items back. After scribbling something on the clipboard she was holding, she proffered it to him.
"Sign here," she indicated a spot with her pen, "and here," pointing this time to the bottom of the page.
Harry signed with a flourish and then turned to his team. "It's been good working with you all."
"But Harry…" Adam was silenced with a look as the older man stepped forward and held out his hand.
"You take good care, yes? You and Wes."
Despite the warmth of the handshake, Adam felt his stomach turning to ice. Harry shook hands with them all, giving Jo's arm a squeeze as he saw her eyes start to fill with tears.
"Don't worry about me, I'll be fine." He spoke reassuringly but she could only trust herself to nod slightly and give him a weak smile.
xxxxxxxxxxxxx
They had all regrouped at Adam's apartment to discuss the day's events and plan their next move. After Harry had left the Grid, mayhem had ensued and they had been overrun with visitors. Some were supposedly HR staff, sent to help with 'staff welfare issues', but they seemed more interested in snooping about and attempting to rifle through desks. The arrival of Superintendent Anderson and three of his colleagues to carry out formal interviews had been the catalyst that provoked an eyeball to eyeball confrontation with Adam, which had been defused by Jo.
"So they're convinced Harry gave the order to shoot?" Malcolm spoke quietly, still shocked by the day's proceedings.
"Yes." Adam finished passing round mugs of coffee and sat down. "I don't know how they have any idea of who said what, our comms were shot to shit," he continued.
"But they weren't…"
"Malcolm, we couldn't hear you and you couldn't hear us. All we had was an earful of feedback and static."
"I know," Malcolm sat forward in his seat, "but I tested all the equipment this morning. It's all in perfect working order."
"So what caused the problem then? A localised jamming device?" Zaf offered.
Malcolm looked thoughtful, "possibly. Very localised as well; CO19 and Special Forces insist they had no problems whatsoever."
"So it must have been someone…"
"On the ground, very close to you and Harry." Malcolm completed Adam's sentence.
"You know what this means?" Zaf looked round the room at his colleagues, "the whole thing, including al Khamir's escape, must have been a set-up."
There was silence as they contemplated the conclusion just reached.
"Mace!" Adam spat the name out. "That bastard must be behind it. He's set Harry up."
Zaf caught his eye, "so, back-up plan time?"
Adam nodded, "yes, back-up plan time."
Malcolm coughed slightly. "Actually, I rather think Harry has his own back-up plan; one that doesn't involve using Ruth."
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