"His name isn't Misbah Asif," Ruth said.
They were in Harry's office, the door closed, and she was perched on the edge of the sofa. He sat behind the desk and she felt a bit like a naughty school child in the principal's office. Except for the softness in his gaze. She wondered bleakly whether it would still be there once she'd told him everything.
"I met him at Oxford," she explained, ploughing on determinedly. "He was one of the tutors for the students that took Arabic." Only now did she lift her gaze to his face. "I knew him as Kamil Misral." Her eyes slid away from him again, back into the past. "He was a good teacher," she murmured with a slight smile, suddenly overcome with memories.
Harry watched her carefully, his face betraying nothing. He thought he had an inkling of where this was going. "Ruth-" he began, but she wouldn't let him continue.
"He offered me private lessons, you see," she hurried on, the words tumbling out almost unconsciously. "I said yes. And on the third night he took me to bed."
She couldn't quite bring herself to look at him, and was only aware that he was moving when she heard the rustle of clothes. The sofa dipped as he settled next to her.
"So he knew you could blow his legend out of the water right off the bat," he said thoughtfully.
"There's more," she admitted and glanced at him apprehensively. All she saw was compassion.
"Yes?"
"We were lovers for about six months, but I became increasingly concerned about his extremist tendencies."
Harry tilted his head. "In what way?"
"He kept talking about the death of his two sisters. They were killed in a suicide bombing back in Pakistan. He was very angry at the jihadists. He said they besmirched his religion, and that he would have his revenge one day."
Harry frowned. This was not what he had expected at all. "An anti-jihadist extremist," he mused. "I don't think I've ever come across one before." He turned back to her. "What did you do?"
Her gaze dropped to her hands. "I'd already been recruited by GCHQ, so I tipped them off."
He could see her self-disgust.
"I told them everything, and two weeks later he simply dropped off the radar. We were told he'd gone back to Pakistan, but I suspected he'd been recruited by either MI5 or MI6. It would seem I was right."

- 0 –

Adam pulled into the fuel station. They'd been driving around for hours now; he thought they had a better chance of staying undetected by doing so. Ross Barrett was slumped in the passenger seat, dozing fitfully. Adam thumped the glass next to his head and he jerked upright, blinking dazedly. The spook felt a stab of satisfaction. It was petty, but he was tired and he was not inclined to be magnanimous towards the man who had tried to kill Ruth.
"Pay attention," he told Barrett. "I'm going inside to pay."
The Special Branch officer nodded and suppressed a yawn.

The door had barely closed behind Adam when a second car careened into the station. He spun around in time to see the muzzle of the semi-automatic pop out of the window and rake his car with bullets. His warning shout was drowned out by the roar of the engine, and by the time he had yanked open the door and sprinted out again, he could only squeeze off a few impotent shots at the disappearing taillights.

- 0 –

"You have to talk to him," Harry decided. She blanched, and he smiled ruefully. It seemed he was always asking her to do things that offended her moral code. Was it any wonder she couldn't make up her mind about dating him? He didn't often think about the type of man he'd become after so many years of service, of selling his soul to protect the realm. But she made him do that, and it was another of the reasons he loved her.
"I sold him out," she said a little plaintively, but he shook his head emphatically.
"You did your job," he stated, in that tone of voice that brooked no opposition. But she was not so easily placated.
"Yes, and look where it's got us."
He huffed incredulously. "You think it's only your intervention all those years ago that has brought us to this? Now that is a little naïve."
She shot him a quick glare, before looking down at the floor again, and he knew her well enough by now to see the stubborn set of her mouth. He touched the back of her hand.
"Don't start playing the 'if only' game. There is nothing that destroys your confidence in your own decision making more swiftly than that. We make our decisions, often under huge pressure, and then we have to stand by them. You did nothing wrong all those years ago."
"Then why does it feel that way?" she mumbled, still not looking at him.
"Because-"
You are good and warm and compassionate and wonderful.
"-you cared for him. That always complicates matters."

She looked at him then, and he was unable to hide just how well he understood his own words at that moment. Ruth wondered whether she would ever reach a stage where the depth of his feelings for her would no longer catch her by surprise. She hoped not, as warmth spread through her chest.
"I don't know what to say to him," she admitted, and his eyes softened.
"Be honest," he advised. "Make sure he understands that we know he is working for the Security Services in some capacity. Play on his feelings for you if you have to."
Ruth frowned. "Why should he have feelings left for me? It was a long time ago."
"…I should imagine you'll be hard to get over, once a person has fallen in love with you…" He trailed off, embarrassed. The words had slipped out before he could stop them, and from her shocked expression he knew that it was too much, too soon. He made to stand, but she grabbed his arm, her fingers digging almost painfully into his flesh and forcing him to look at her. What he saw in her face made him want to shout for joy.
"After, would you like to come to mine for dinner?" The words rushed out of her, as though she was afraid she wouldn't get them out at normal speed, and he couldn't help the smile that spread across his face. As he opened his mouth, his mobile rang shrilly, shattering the moment, and he reached for it with a muttered curse. He showed her the name on the screen before lifting it to his ear.
"Adam."

- 0 –

Twenty minutes later

Adam sat in the car and observed the house across the street for a few minutes. It was a respectable neighbourhood, and all the houses in the street were dark and quiet. His eyes felt gritty, and the rest of him felt sticky with sweat despite the cold of the pre-dawn air. He was angry, and also a tad frightened. Ross Barrett was dead, and Harry had been suitably pissed at the news. He, Adam, had failed to protect a vital informant, and Harry had every right to be pissed. He was even angrier at himself, truth be told. Barrett should never have been left in the car to fend for himself. So now here he was, trying to set matters right. Harry's harsh words still echoed through his head.
Christ Al-bloody-mighty, Adam! he had barked, just get that tape. I don't care whether you have to break into the fucking bank to do it.
Perhaps, he reflected, his boss wouldn't be pleased when he found out how literally Adam was about to take his suggestion, but he was too tired to care. He would cross that bridge afterwards. He opened the door and closed it softly behind him.
"Malcolm?"
"Comms working perfectly, Alpha One," Malcolm's tinny voice said in his ear with slight emphasis on the last two words, and Adam suppressed a flash of irritation. Malcolm and his bloody codes; it drove him crazy.
"Security code for the front door is 5563," Malcolm continued.
"Thanks, Malcolm," Adam retorted, relishing the pained sigh he got in response.

It took him exactly three minutes to pick the lock, and once inside he swiftly punched in the code on the flashing alarm panel. All the blinking lights turned green and he let out a quiet breath. "I'm in," he whispered.
"Stairs are three paces to your left," Malcolm said, and Adam paced it off, then ascended as quietly as he could. Back on the Grid, the techie watched the thermal-scan feed carefully and when Adam was at the top of the stairs, he instructed, "Second door on your left. There are two people in bed. Our man is on the left as you enter."
"How the hell do you know that?" Adam whispered, and Malcolm felt a thrill of satisfaction. It was good to surprise the bold field officers with his expertise every now and then.
"Saw a picture of him and his wife – he is definitely the larger blob on the thermal."
There was a soft huff which Malcolm took to be a laugh, and then Adam was inside the room and moving to the left side of the bed.

- 0 –

Harry watched on his monitor as Ruth entered the Interview Room. Zaf stood ready next to the man on the chair, keeping a close eye on Asif, or rather Misral, as they now knew his name to be. He felt anxious; he always did when Ruth left his immediate vicinity on an operational matter. He tried his best not to let her see that, fearing that she would interpret it as a lack of confidence in her abilities.
Misral's eyes widened when he saw the woman enter. "Ruth?!" he exclaimed, unable to check himself, and Harry knew right then that they had a chance. As Ruth moved forward, Harry's door was yanked open violently and he swung around furiously.
"Not now!" he yelled, before he saw the ashen face of Percy, his Security Officer. The man hesitated, and Harry asked in a calmer tone, "What?"
Percy swallowed. "Mr Mace is downstairs. He knows Miss Ruth is here, and he is demanding she be brought to him."

Harry stared at Percy, all the bluster knocked out of him. His worst nightmare was about to become true, and for a second he couldn't think, couldn't speak. It lasted for only a moment, before his brain went into overdrive. The only way Mace could have found out was through Bob Hogan, and suddenly he could see it all, the big picture that had eluded him all this time.
"Bloody Bob Hogan," he hissed viciously, and Percy blinked in alarm.
Harry paced about for what felt an interminable amount of time, but was in reality not more than half a minute, before he suddenly stopped and turned to Percy. An almost eerie calm had settled over him as he said, "Tell Mr Mace that Ruth is here, on the Grid."
Percy gawped at him, but Harry didn't blink, and the Security Officer nodded meekly and turned to do his master's bidding.

Once he was out of sight, Harry stooped to the small safe under his desk, and took out the handgun he kept there.

- 0 –

"Hello, Kamil," Ruth said as she took a seat opposite her former lover. She was nervous, and she knew it showed, but perhaps that would work in her favour.
Kamil made as if to stand, but Zaf's hand fell heavily on his shoulder and he slumped back into his seat. "My name is Misbah Asif," he mumbled, but there was no conviction in the words. He stared at Ruth, and deep behind his brown eyes she could read his desperation. She felt a frisson, a memory of the excitement she had felt all that time ago when he used to gaze at her with his dark eyes, but it quickly passed, replaced by the more recent memories of a pair of brown eyes that turned the colour of burnished honey in the right light. It gave her courage.
"Your name is Kamil, and your two sisters were killed by a suicide bomber in Pakistan. You tutored Arabic students at Oxford, and you and I were lovers for six months."
Kamil laughed, a nervous, staccato sound. "Ridiculous," he spat.
Ruth watched him evenly. "You have a birth-mark in the shape of an hour glass on your left buttock."
Kamil's eyes widened and Zaf guffawed. "Shall we have a look-see, mate?" he asked gleefully, and the man's shoulders slumped. Zaf immediately picked it up, and gave Ruth a knowing look. They had him.

- 0 –

"Was it really necessary to truss the man up like a turkey?" Malcolm asked. "I mean, he's hardly likely to outrun you if he tries to escape."
Adam glanced in the rear-view mirror at the bank manager in the back seat, hands and feet tied and a gag in his mouth. He was sweating profusely and his breathing seemed fast and shallow, but perhaps that was due to being obese.
"Yeah, but he might fall on me," Adam responded, before turning serious again. "I don't have time to sweet-talk him."
"Mmmwfmm," the bank manger said, wriggling around in an attempt to get more comfortable.
"Your wife will be fine," Adam stated. "You'll be home in less than an hour if you cooperate and then you can untie her. As I tried to explain earlier before you went berserk, I mean you no harm. I work for her Majesty's government and we need your urgent assistance. A man hid a vital piece of evidence in a safe deposit box in your bank, and we need that evidence to stop some very bad people. Do you understand?" He glanced in the mirror to see a pair of large round eyes staring at him. "We will make it official as soon as business opens, but we can't wait that long, you see. We need it immediately. So will you give me your cooperation?"
The eyes stared at him, before the head nodded eventually.
"Good. We're here," he said as he pulled up in front of the bank.

- 0 –

Ruth and Kamil sat measuring each other, their past history lying heavily between them.
"Kamil…" she began, but he shook his head with a rueful smile.
"I knew I was in trouble the moment I saw you enter this building, Ruth. You are perhaps the smartest person I have ever met."
"So you tried to have me killed?" she retorted harshly, and he blinked in surprise.
"What are you talking about?"
"They have tried to kill me twice now. Apparently all to protect you."
"No! They said they would keep you away from the Grid! They never mentioned anything about-" He stopped himself, unable to say the word.
"'They'? Who're 'they'?" Zaf asked, but Kamil ignored him.
"I swear, I did not know. I would not have agreed to that."
Ruth smile wryly. "You speak as though you have a choice. If you sell your soul to the devil…"
"No. You're the one who is on the side of the devil, Ruth. Me, on the other hand, I am on the side of the angels."
The two spooks exchanged a confused look. ""What do you mean?" Ruth asked. "Who is the 'devil'?"
Kamil sat back and watched her closely. "Harry Pearce."
Ruth laughed incredulously. "Harry is one of the good guys. Oliver Mace, on the other hand-"
"Is willing to do what it takes to win this war, whilst Harry Pearce hmms and haas and bleats about suspects' rights!"
She stared at him, horrified by his anger and hatred. "This is because of what happened to your sisters. Mace took that and twisted your soul until you became his creature, eager to believe every word from his treacherous lips."
Kamil's eyes flashed. "You may think that, but I assure you I am very much my own man. Pearce prevented the CIA from extracting five terror suspects, who could have vital information to prevent the next 9/11. Something had to be done."

The light suddenly dawned for Ruth. "If you mean the men currently incarcerated in Cotterdam prison, let me tell you that there is not a shred of evidence to be found against them. Why should we allow another extraordinary rendition on British soil, and have these men shipped off to God knows where to be tortured on the basis of no evidence whatsoever? I would think we can all agree that this is not the civilised way."
"'Civilised way'," Kamil sneered. "They prey on that, you know. They know we are constrained by our perceived rules of civilisation, whilst they have carte blanche to act as uncivilised as they want."
But Ruth would have none of it. "You don't save the civilised way of life by destroying it from the inside."
He opened his mouth again but she held up a hand. "I'm not interested, Kamil. What is the plan? How will you discredit Harry Pearce?"
He leant back in his chair and watched her through half-lidded eyes. "What time is it?"
Zaf glanced at his watch. "Almost five in the morning," he said. "Why?"
"Then it doesn't matter anymore. It's too late to stop it, so I might as well tell you. There is a bomb on the Grid. In my bag. It is scheduled to go off at five."

- 0 –

As Oliver Mace approached the pods, his henchmen in tow, he could see Harry stand waiting for them, his hands behind his back. That geeky techie stood slightly behind him with an anxious look on his face.
Mace started to speak as soon as they were all through the doors.
"Where is she, Harry? Where is Ruth Ev-"
He swallowed the rest of the word, as he looked up to find himself staring down the ugly black hole of a gun barrel.
"Malcolm, lock down the Grid," Harry instructed, his eyes never leaving the JIC Chairman.
"If anyone else moves, I'll shoot Oliver."

tbc