Chapter 17

Darcy and Rosalind

"Ros, Lucas, I've had a thought." Tariq began,

"I think it shows the extent of my distress that I would happily listen to Tariq's proposal in order to drown out Darcy and Elizabeth out there." Ros said, grimacing

"What is it Tariq?" Lucas said, nudging Ros.

"You won't like it." He cautioned,

"I'll like it more than thinking I've battled up the aisle of small talk only for you to walk out on me with cold feet now." Ros informed him.

"Alright, I noticed that your friends, Darcy and Elizabeth, they both have ear pieces..." Tariq began in a rush, fearing the wroth of Ros, "I did a little digging, everyone working inside that building has them, it's how they communicate with each other."

"Thank you for the technology talk Tariq, as MI-5 officers, neither of us were aware of the functions of ear pieces." Ros said, drily,

"Well I had to be sure, call it a flaw of my generation." Tariq replied daringly, Ros' face darkened as Lucas shook with silent laughter and Tariq became infinitely grateful that ear pieces worked over long distances, "The point is, these are old school, and they're tuned to something similar to radio waves, if you can get me the frequency we can listen to everything they're saying to one another."

"Glad to see you think 'our generation' can handle radios." Ros said, through gritted teeth, the effect ruined when she added, "How do we get access to them?"

"You'll need to get your hands on one of those ear pieces and get it to me, from there I can work it out."

"Oh is that all? How wonderful Tariq, Lucas will just stick me in a harness and lower me from the ceiling to pluck it from the ear of the sleeping security guard." Ros snarled,

"To call a spade a spade, what Ros is saying is that we can't just wander up to one of them and politely ask if they mind us borrowing their ear piece, the point is to avoid being seen."

"Really? I thought Ros' suggestion was a good one." Tariq smirked, "I know that, I've found a different way to get your spade."

"I'm listening." Lucas said as Ros murmured, "God help us."

"There's a little staff room downstairs, I've been keeping my eye on it, they go in there, dump their stuff before heading off to their rooms, there's a little box full of ear pieces down there."

"I'll grab my fishing rod..." Ros murmured,

"How far is it?" Lucas asked, more diplomatically,

"Three floors down, two blocks over."

"Are you serious? I nearly had a stroke navigating down three corridors." Ros exploded, quietly.

"Losing your touch?" Lucas teased, as Tariq poured salt on the wound, saying,

"I thought you liked a challenge?"

"Yes, the daily challenge I face not murdering you two in your sleep...Is it doable?" she asked quietly.

"Nothing is impossible Ros."

"I don't know what you've been smoking Tariq, save me some, in the meantime, how likely is it that we'll be shot attempting this?"

"If you follow my instructions, whatever comes right before zero." He replied, chirpily,

"Wonderful, we're in a building full of armed guards and more security cameras than Harry's house but we have an over-enthusiastic student willing to use us as a real-life video game...How reassuring." Ros muttered, "Tell me when the canoodling couple get bored and we'll get this over with."

"Harry?" Ruth said, pausing in the doorway,

"What is it? Something gone wrong with Ros and Lucas?" he asked, sharply, fearing the worst and half rising from his chair,

"No, no nothing like that, biggest danger they face is Ros murdering Lucas because of Tariq." She said with a small smile,

"So, while the children are enjoying playtime, what have the adults discovered?" he said, smiling slightly, relief flooding him, his default setting was not to view the world with rose tinted glasses, but whenever his team were in the field, they were crushed beneath the sea of realism and paranoia.

"Not much I'm afraid. We double checked all of the people working at the talks, not just those involved in the Kieran Estate, they're all clean. Either our information's faulty or this group are exceptionally clever."

"I'm not sure which ones worse..." Harry sighed, running a hand over his face,

"I don't think our intel's solid...This group know exactly what they're doing, they're playing this perfectly, they know that the more attention they attract the more chance they have of being stopped, they're not taking any risks."

"And that worries me a great deal." Harry said, softly.

"We need people on the inside; we need to know what's going on in there."

"Well fortunately, that happy responsibility falls to myself and Sofia, we'll be seeing the Home Secretary in a few hours."

"Are you sure he's prepared? He was visited by Ros so recently." She said with a small smirk,

"He'll have to be."

"It'll be good experience, if he can deal with you lot he'll have no problem anywhere else."

Harry chuckled, "That's true, first however, I have to take a call from our leading man at the CIA, and he wants to be absolutely sure that his President will be given the utmost care while he's here..." he said, the contempt clinging to his words.

"In this case he has every reason to be concerned, for a change." She pointed out,

"Perhaps, but I could do without a two hour phone call attempting to ensure the paranoid bugger that I will personally pick out all the blue M&M's from his dear President's bowl if it will shut him up."

"Are you going to tell them?"

"That someone is attempting to assassinate their President and decimate the peace talks he's become so heavily and publically involved in, well I just don't think they need to know..." he said with a smirk.

At that point the phone rang and Ruth got to her feet, Harry made to pick up the phone and said, "If the children run into trouble come and find me, otherwise..."

"We'll be fine...They should be heading back soon." She said with a reassuring smile, quietly closing the door on him.

Ros and Lucas slipped from the Priest's Hole, relieved to be finally free of the cramped conditions. Lucas stretched, wincing as his bones cracked, reminding Ros of a cat as she paced the room, trying to regain feeling in her legs as she said,

"OK Tariq, what now?"

"Just do what I say and don't get shot."

"It's your pastime of being a motivational speaker that really gives you a reason to live isn't it Tariq?"

It took them almost an hour to reach the ground floor, weaving in and out of doors and concealed in-shots, by which time Lucas had confiscated Ros' ear piece for the sake of Tariq's mental health.

As they stood a small distance away from the staff room, it became apparent that Tariq had declined to tell them what they could clearly see now, there was a constant stream of people moving in and out of the little room and the loud, raucous laughter from within told them that it was not empty.

"Tariq..." Lucas breathed,

"This is your department." He said, hurriedly, "You'll need a distraction of some kind."

Missing Ros' sarcastic comment Lucas filled the gap in the conversation murmuring, "OK, OK, let me think..."

He was rudely interrupted by two loud gunshots.

Jumping and drawing his gun he turned to face their source and found Ros standing, as bold as brass, in the centre of the corridor as people began screaming and swarming from the room, the door of which now had new decoration in the form of two bullets buried in the beautiful woodwork.

"Thinking is overrated." She said, matter-of-factly, reloading the gun as he gaped at her, "Don't waste it." She said, airily, turning to go,

"Ros."

She looked back just in time to catch the ear piece he tossed to her with a smirk.

"I'll meet you upstairs in the tunnels." She told him, reinserting the comm as she began to run in the opposite direction, "Go help you if I have to come back for you Lucas North."

Rolling his eyes and shaking his head at her temerity, wondering how she could till surprise him after all this time, waiting behind the large, ugly antique vase in the wall's in-shot they had been crouched behind until Ros had decided she was bored, as the area cleared, people either running after Ros or away from the lunatic with the gun.

Slipping noiselessly from his hiding place he crept cautiously towards the door and gently pushing it opening, examining the deep wounds Ros' bullets had punched in it. They had penetrated it about an inch before coming to a stop, creating small explosions of splintered wood in the delicately patterned door around their entry points, but they had not even reached half-way through the vault-like door.

Closing the door behind him with a soft snap and facing the room, calm and composed until he heard footsteps running towards him. Impulsively swiping an empty plastic bottle from a table at his elbow he darted into the small porch to his right. It was cool as he quietly closed the door over him, as it lead outside, but he felt a hot flush creeping up his neck as he wait, silently drawing his gun. The door behind him was not an escape route; he was cornered, knowing that the cavalry would descend upon him, drawn to the alarm activated if the door was opened.

Waiting in the darkness, prepared to use the empty drinks bottle as a makeshift silencer if he was disturbed, he listened as someone entered the room beyond and a young man's voice asked, anxiously, "Katia?" He paused for a moment, possibly receiving instructions through his ear piece because a few seconds later he scampered from the room.

Getting slowly to his feet and stowing his gun at his hip once more, Lucas cautiously advanced into the room once more, regaining his composure until it was ripped away from him again as a loud gunshot assaulted his ear.

Ros had turned tail and hurried up the corridor, suddenly feeling that her thinking may have been underrated. Still, never one to cry over spilt blood, she had made a decision, impulsive and reckless perhaps, but a decision nonetheless and she was sticking to it, what was done was done, and she would just have to deal with the consequences.

Besides, the act of skulking around the house with Shaggy and Scooby had been wearing thin, she needed to release the adrenaline and the energy that had been surging through her body, fuelling her instincts and telling her to do something, she had definitely done that.

Now that her initial moment of madness had subsided however, a plan was forcing itself into being in her mind, common sense taking over and now dictating her actions as she systematically began trying door handles.

Every one refused to budge under her insisting pressure, piquing her curiosity as she wondered how many things these people could lock up, tempted to go back and argue with the doors until they agreed to yield their secrets to her, unable to think of what they were trying so hard to protect from prying eyes.

However, stubborn as she was, no-one could accuse Ros Myers of being stupid and, in the end, logic always prevailed with her and she quickly abandoned her childish fantasies in favour of surviving the mess she had brought upon herself.

Finally finding a door that allowed her to enter, just when she was reaching the point of kicking one of them in and to Hell with the consequences, she stumbled into a room that, if the bookshelves surrounding the walls implied anything, was used as a study and crossed it in three large strides.

Using a well-place bullet to initially fracture the thick sheet of glass, she used the gun's handle to break the remaining glass in the frame before turning and heading into a nearby stair well.

"Ros!" Lucas' voice said, sharply, reminding her that he did not in fact, live in her head, and her little stunt had probably terrified him,

"I'm fine Lucas." She said quickly, before explaining, "Apparently I've jumped out of a window."

"A little warning would be nice next time." He said, reproachfully,

"Wouldn't it."

Shaking his head, partly out of irritation, partly out of relief, he began scanning the room carefully. Cigarette smoke still hung heavily in the air snatching at his eyes and lungs and almost drowning out the smell of sweat and desperation; reminding him forcibly of Russia. Even more so when his eyes fell upon the confused table of coins and cards spread out on a low, dented coffee table, the only remains of a once animated poker game.

At the heart of this upstanding, luxury country house, on the surface of which was pure and innocent as a child lurked the dirty little secrets it worked so hard to conceal. Memories and words of a long forgotten past came back to him,' if you want to know a man, think not upon what he says, think more upon what he does not...' He smiled slightly at the words, the only time a quotation would make sense to you was when you had experienced it for yourself...Very true.

Jerking himself from his nostalgic little reverie, he began scanning the room for what he was actually looking for, he found it, balanced precariously on top of a closet, only just visible beneath the protective shield of coats it was concealed beneath, a simple little cardboard box, the ear pieces peering out at him like scarab beetles, their long legs hooked around one another and curved around the edges of the box.

"Wait a minute Lucas." Tariq's voice said, as he began to cross the room, delicately picking his way over the items strewn randomly over the floor, so as not to disturb anything.

"What's wrong Tariq?"

"Chances are the ear piece you're about to pick up will interfere with our comms, we might be able to pick up the odd scraps but to all intents and purposes, you'll be flying blind."

"No." Ros broke in flatly,

"Look-"Lucas began patiently,

"No, that's not a suggestion Lucas it's an order." She growled, "It's too risky."

"But it wasn't too risky to stand in the middle of the corridor and start shooting at unsuspecting doors to turn yourself into the rabbit at a greyhound race?" he countered, infuriatingly, "Getting access to that frequency is effectively bugging every single person in this building, it's invaluable."

"So are you." She shot back reflexively, swearing internally as her brain caught up with what her mouth had just said,

"Ros, I'll be fine." He murmured, before cutting the connection.

"Son-of-a-bitch." She snarled, slamming her hand into a nearby wall, bruising the knuckles,

She stood, seething, at his damn heroics before the sound of footsteps pounding in her ears jolted her back to reality.

Turning and beginning to jog down the corridor, looking for another stair well, still cursing Lucas she barked sharply, "Tariq?" hoping her tone implied that she was not in the mood to bandy words over her sentimental slip.

Sensing it would be tantamount to suicide all he told her quickly, "Go straight along the corridor, the last door on your left leads to stairs, hurry up, they'll be on you in a minute."

Balancing speed with silence she hurried down the corridor, ducking into the door as she had been instructed saying, shortly, "Lucas?" as she did so.

"No comms, but I'm keeping an eye on him on the cameras, but from his end he'll have to do it the old fashioned way, rely on his own eyes and ears. Looks like he's heading for the same place as you but he's taking the scenic route."

"How charming." She muttered, through gritted teeth.

The door banging at the bottom of the stairs pushed him to the back of her mind as she hurried on, Tariq hastily feeding her instructions as she went.

Lucas quietly crept down the corridor, attempting to visualise the floor plans while he worried about Ros. One reason they had been so reluctant to drop communication was not only because Tariq could not direct him or warn him of imminent threats, but it meant that they did not know what had become of the other, something neither of them welcomed.

Locating a stair well he dived into it, the cold embrace of the clinical, white stairs being welcome after the suffocating luxury of the corridor beyond. As he slowly climbed the stairs he examined the ear piece he know held, protectively in his hand. It was activated by heat and so when it had been in contact with his skin it had started firing off its own signals, interfering with his ear piece, forcing him to remove it to stop it squealing in protest. However while this feature meant that the comm saved battery when it was not in use, it also meant that there was no way for him to switch it off.

Inspiration struck and he decided to use it to the best of his abilities, inserting it in his ear as he climbed, hoping to hear something of Ros' fate. Only Ros Myers could convince herself that it was a good idea to stick a giant neon sign on her back and scream come and get me to a building full of armed guards... The faint mumblings he could understand in the comms, for efficiency everything was spoken in shorthand, he felt fairly sure that Ros had thus far escaped detection.

As he reached the top of the stairs he examined the very inappropriately placed statue at the top and discovered that it slid back fairly comfortably to reveal the trap door he had been searching for beneath it. Sliding down into the suffocating tunnel he replaced the statue as best he could before fully dropping the trapdoor on himself, hoping that the action would cause the statue to roll forwards and set off down the tunnel, knowing that it would take him back, within feet of the one Ros had promised to meet him at.

He knew that Ros would not be able to proceed this way, Tariq would not be able to direct her underground and if they realised they knew about the tunnels, all of their escape routes would be cut off, something she would not risk. As he picked his way through the warren of tunnels that snaked under the house, with people moving around overhead, reminded him fondly of his childhood, apart from the terror that flared within his chest as he wondered what had become of Ros.

As it turned out Ros had made it to the corridor and was looking around in Lucas, employing some of Harry's favourite curses as she waited, every muscle feeling as though it was being stretched like an elastic band as she waited for Lucas.

"Anything from Lucas Tariq?" she asked,

"No but, shit-"

This caught her off guard, she swore like a Scottish sailor in comparison to the mild-mannered tech, whose language indicated that something was seriously wrong, "What?" she demanded, imagining Lucas' brains splattered across one of the many presumptuous paintings that adorned the walls.

"You're about to have company." He told her shortly,

This proved to be quite true as, when she turned to gauge the distance of her attacker, she found his fist connecting, painfully with her chest, sending her backwards as her fingers involuntarily released her grip on the gun.

It went spinning over her head and as she rolled out of the way of a second blow she kicked it, sending it spinning down the corridor out of both of their reach as he lunged for her again, a short, wicked knife in his hand.

Seizing his arm at the elbow and holding it firmly as she kicked, violently upwards his scream blocking out the sound as the bone snapped and he dropped the knife. Fighting back she clawed at his eyes as he snarled and reached for the gun at his hip.

She dived out of the way as he fired a clumsy shot towards her; the bullet became lodged in the thick carpet where, seconds before, her chest had been. Snatching up the knife that innocently nudged her foot she darted round the side and launched herself at him, this time however he was ready for her and the handle of the gun impacted her temple, causing her to crumple to the floor.

Panting and staring down at her contemptuously as her vision blurred and a metallic taste filled her mouth, the world spinning sickeningly in front of her. He placed one foot on her chest, the pressure he applied causing her to choke and splutter for breath. He carefully lined the gun up with her heart as her fingers scrabbled uselessly for her own weapon that she could dimly make out to her left that seemed closer than the three feet that separated them.

Smiling cruelly as she struggled weakly, her head protesting and swimming in response to the smallest of movements, he carefully readied the gun and placed his finger on the trigger.

The gunshot exploded in the silence; horribly clear through the miasma of confusion that she was drowning in, as clear as the sensation of warm blood that covered her chest.

A/N: I know this chapter was a little over dramatic with action for actions sake and not much conceivable plot, but I had far too much fun writing it, so shoot me for my indulgence :) Hope you enjoyed anyway, thank you all for reading and reviewing.