Chapter 19

Terror and Trackers

"Right, I now present to you, your new best friends for the next few days." Tariq smirked, removing eight thick files and spreading them out on the table before them like a political pack of cards.

It had been decided to split the eight nations between four MI-5 officers, two each; Ros, Lucas, Sofia and, to Ros' disgust, Ruth. This had sparked an intense debate whereby Harry pointed out that Ruth was more qualified than any of them for this job, considering her fluency in several languages and Ros retorted that Google Translate would do the same job but she wouldn't want it accompanying her. In the end staffing issues forced them to agree to disagree.

"Sofia, you are entertaining the Russians and the Americans as Kate Connor." Tariq said, handing her a new driver's license, passport, birth certificate and two thick files concerning the American President and the Russian Prime Minister

"Wonderful...These talks are already making history, I'm officially the first thing willingly shared by America and Russia since about 1945...Who organised this?"

"They did." Harry said his voice smothered in sarcasm as he continued, "Home Secretary decided that in the 'interests of fairness' they should decide, put names in a hat or something...Bloody idiot..."

Sofia snorted as Ros said, "Congratulations, you're worth nothing more to this country than as a prize in a political raffle."

"Well the politicians will be presented with their winnings in just over an hour, can we get on this?" Harry said testily.

"Yes they will and yes we can." Tariq said, grinning, "Lucas, you have Britain and France and you are now Liam Ford." Lucas accepted his new identity and responsibilities and began flicking through the files.

"We're watching the British too? Or is this just in the interest of appearances?"

"Appearances and equality." Harry said curtly.

"We're not biased here at MI-5, we don't trust anyone." Ros translated, smirking,

"No we don't, for good reason. In the current climate, political paranoia is at an all time high and as a result our best new friend the Home Secretary has insisted that he is the only one in the British delegation to know of your true identities and we want to keep an eye on him anyway."

"Don't know why you complain so much Harry, sounds like a man after your own heart." Lucas grinned,

"Unfortunately I don't think his reasons are for protecting this country and justifying a greater than healthy intake of Scotch...Tariq?"

"Right, yes Ros, you will be introducing yourself to North Korea and Pakistan as Sara West." Tariq informed her hastily getting back on track.

"Lovely..."

"Which leaves Ruth as the charming Helen Bond with India and China." Tariq concluded.

"You will be meeting the main players from each delegation in a few hours to introduce yourselves and allow everyone to meet everyone else and for whatever other pretentious, ridiculous reasons the Home Secretary has fabricated." Harry growled, "However for all his short-comings, of which he has enough to claim disability benefits for, this is actually beneficial to us as it gives us the opportunity to place trackers on the diplomats between tea and handshakes.

Tariq took over at this point producing a small plastic coated tracker and placing it delicately on the table for their inspection. It was about the size of a grain of rice and looked about as interesting.

Seeing that they all looked unimpressed, Tariq explained, "Underneath the plastic cover the tracker is coated in a thin film of a quick-drying glue like substance, whatever you put it on, watch, phone, pocket, it'll stick to like sarcasm does to Ros." He finished with a smirk in her direction as he passed out several of the trackers for them to examine.

"These talks will run for two days before the attack and in order for us to identify the insiders, the first step is knowing where they are and who they're with, these trackers are essential."

"Do we have anything at all to point us towards any potentials?" Lucas asked,

"No, Salko didn't know, or didn't tell, either way, we haven't got anything to start with. Even if we can get trackers on them we'll still struggle to separate them all out, they're careful; they know what they're doing." Ros said, with her usual sunny take on things.

"Where are we meeting them today?" Ruth asked,

"The Home Secretary's office." Harry replied

"Showing off his antique car boot sale of junk to the foreign diplomats is he?" Sofia asked to general amusement.

"Indeed...I want you all ready to view said car boot sale in half an hour." Harry said, clearly dismissing them.

...

Harry retreated to his office and endured that his team were all occupied before dialling the number he had committed to memory while simultaneously praying that he would never have to use it.

"Yes, this is Harry Pearce...I'm calling Sun Storm."

He waited, running a hand over his face as he did. This was not something he had wanted to do, and knew what it would mean for him if it came to this which was equally disturbing. It had been gnawing away at him for weeks, but it had only taken possession of his being in the last few days, something that had not gone unnoticed by his team. They were beginning to see the cracks showing in his usually mirror smooth exterior.

"Who did you tell?" he snarled without preamble in response to the 'oily' hello on the other end of the line.

"Dear, dear Harry, in these uncertain times, pleasantries are considered a necessity if we're to avoid offence and ultimate bloodshed."

"Fuck pleasantries." He snapped, forgetting just how much he had been irritated by the pretentious idiot on the other end of the line, "I can guarantee there will be blood spilt over this, whether or not I ask whether or not one has had a fine morning. They know."

"You may need to be more specific than that Harry."

"Don't bullshit me. How did they find out?"

"Well I'm sure I don't know, but I don't see that it matters...What matters is, what are you going to do now that they know."

Snarling and slamming the phone down none to gently into its cradle causing it to bounce back out again, lying innocently mocking him on the desk.

He should not have expected any better. He hadn't expected any better but that did not mean he was not allowed to be in a foul mood following the conversation with the insufferable... His thoughts ran away with him, a mixture of curses and paranoid thoughts as to what he could have given away in the irrational phone call, before reason returned and he reminded himself that it had needed done.

A gentle tap at the door interrupted his thoughts.

"Ruth, come in." He said tiredly, not having to look up to know that it was her.

"Are you alright Harry?" she asked concerned as she hovered in the doorway, "I can come back if-"

"No, of course not, everything is fine Ruth, come in. What is it?" He asked. Everything would always be fine...

"I just, I don't Harry, I just think, I mean I don't think I-" she began haltingly, unsure of how to speak now that she was taking part in this conversation outside of her own head.

"You'll be fine Ruth." Not needing her jumbled thoughts to leave her head in order to know them.

"That's just the thing Harry; I don't think it will be. Ros is-"

"Ros is Ros."Harry said, firmly, "It's in her nature to side with her paranoia over her sense. She's insecure, but that does not mean she has good reason for it."

"I think she does Harry..." she said, quietly, "If she's right, if I-"

"She's not. Ros may be a great number of things, and she's an excellent officer, but she's not the most trusting and she underestimates the abilities of those around her." Ruth did not look too reassured by this and so he added, "Besides, Lucas says she has a concussion, she's more irritable than usual apparently, I wouldn't worry about it..."

"Well that'll be that then." She said, with a weak smile.

"You'll be fine, and afterwards-"

"Don't."

"What?"

"Do this..." she said, her eyes burning as brightly as her cheeks as she broke the understanding eye contact between them.

"Ruth I wasn't, I was only going to-"

"We both know what you were going to do Harry."

"I'm sorry." He waited a moment and said, "We have to talk about this." At the same time she said,

"I have to go..."

"Ruth, please-"

"No Harry...We have to talk but, but not now..."

She left the office and ran into Ros; this did nothing to improve the mood of either of them,

"Finished checking Harry's blood pressure?" she enquired, tartly,

"Let's go." Ruth replied shortly, heading for the pods, muttering under her breath, "You sure it's not more serious than a concussion?"

Lucas caught her eye and her words, smiling faintly he murmured, "Not developed 'Ros-deafness' yet? It's a blessing and a curse." He tentatively squeezed her shoulders and said softly, "You'll be fine Ruth."

The four of them were gathered together in the Home Secretary's office waiting for the diplomats with him bobbing around the desk behind them until Ros had snarled at him to either, "Piss yourself, or sit down, just stop hovering like a bloody mother hen whose chicks have fallen in the Thames."

He fortunately chose the latter option, however, to Ros' irritation, the effects of her suggestion were reversed a few minutes later when he jumped to his feet as though electrocuted in response to the door being knocked and opened.

"Twitchy little bunny isn't he?" Ros muttered to Lucas out of the corner of her mouth

"You have that effect on people..." he told her with a grin as the Home Secretary almost sprawled on the floor at their feet in his hurry for the door.

They watched as the diplomats filed through the door and the Home Secretary launched into a long-winded monologue welcoming them to Britain and explaining the purpose of the aides behind him, all of them feeling their faces burning with the effort of plastering false smiles across their faces for such a prolonged period of time. As the Home Secretary informed the parties that the aides had been given the authority and responsibility of the British government to provide them with anything they needed during the talks, just as all of them felt that their duty to their new delegations was to smother the Home Secretary, he paused, irritated by the necessity of breathing, and brought them back to Earth as they realised they were now needed to do something,

"Mr. Kenneth Williams." The Home Secretary said, gesturing to the British Prime Minister "and Mademoiselle Sabelle Dorè," the French, "May I present, Liam Ford?" he nodded towards Lucas.

Stepping forward, Lucas clasped hands briefly with the British Prime Minister and the members of his cabinet considered senior enough to attend these high profile talks, carefully slipping the trackers on the inside of watch straps, or the occasional cufflink.

"Pleasure Prime Minister." He said, with a small smile, distracting the politician by forcing him to meet his intense blue eyes while they exchanged pleasantries.

As the British delegation moved back politely and allowed the French party to move forwards so Lucas could introduce himself to them in turn, Lucas' eye was caught by the French Prime Minister.

She cut an impressive figure and it had been more than her surprising youth that had caused her to be the source of attention both from the media and the foreign diplomats. Tall and slim with sharp, striking features, her eyes made even more prominent by the fact that her blonde hair had been drawing back from her face, their intense green colour giving her a strange, exotic beauty making her instantly desirable. Her looks often concealed the intelligence and cunning beneath the pretty packaging, something that she knew and used perfectly.

She was the last member of her party that Lucas greeted and to his annoyance, the watch on her sallow wrist was composed of a delicate silver bracelet, its large loops did not lend themselves to the slim trackers and to his alarm it slipped out from under the slick watch face.

Watching as their cover tumbled to the floor, he hastily allowed the thick sheaf of files to fall to the floor at her feet.

"Oh, I am so sorry...No, no please, let me, it's fine really, I can only apologise."

Crouching down and feigning nerves as she bent to help him, retrieving the tracker under cover of gathering up the papers and impulsively slipping it behind the heel of her shoe. Straightening up he thanked her and mumbled,

"I'm very sorry mademoiselle." Anxiously avoiding her gaze.

"Do not worry yourself, monsieur Ford, it was an honest mistake." She said, imperiously, her voice falling pleasantly on his ears, a strange melodic quality to it.

He flicked his eyes towards hers, momentarily smiling faintly, something she fleetingly returned.

Lucas moved back to the desk and Ros delicately informed him,

"In the interests of international relations, it may be best if you could bring yourself to avoid sleeping with the French Prime Minister while she's here, tempting as it may be."

"Don't worry...I had my eye on the Russian PM anyway." He shot back with a smirk and a wink.

"Speak of the devil." Ros murmured, having no time to say anything else as the Home Secretary began introducing Sofia as Kate Ford to the American and Russian representatives.

The American President crossed the room in two large bounds in his eagerness to make Sofia's acquaintance, he was a large, boyish faced man named Robert Crowe and when he reached her apart from being alarmed at his inability to remain still, she was confident that because of the exuberance of his handshake, the tracker she had delicately placed under the enormous cufflink at his wrist would ping off and lodge itself in one of the hideous, pretentious paintings dotted around the room, however she was impressed to find that it remained stubbornly in place under the thick leather.

As Sofia turned to face the Russian Prime Minister, her first thought was incredulity; she was the polar opposite of Tigger the bouncy President.

Kalina Myskin was older than Sabelle Dorè, but still young for the position she held. Where the US President was large, loud and light; she was far more reserved and spoke in a voice barely above a whisper with a soft accent. Her hair and eyes were dark, both almost black, in striking contrast to her pale, ghostly skin and while her features were more understated than those of her French counterpart, her quiet beauty could not be questioned.

Her material reservations caused headache for Sofia however when she realised that she did not have the luxury of watches of cufflinks to attach her tracker to as she wore almost no jewellery, save a silver pin at her chest.

Knowing that, ideally, the tracker had to last for the duration of the talks and could not be put on a simple item of clothing that would most likely not even make it to the first day, she took a risk and said, "May I?" as she held the delicate pin between her fingers.

"Saint Catherine of Alexandria?" Sofia said, quietly, aware of the focus of the other woman's dark gaze, "A very strong woman..." she murmured, holding the soft, hypnotic eyes as she placed the tracker on the back.

"That she was..." she replied, dipping her head graciously, a movement mirrored by Sofia as she returned to the others.

"Prime Minister Akash Singh, and Premier Hui Sūn, Ms Helen Bond." The Home Secretary said, as Ruth stepped forwards tentatively, greeting Hui Sūn, the Chinese premier first in his native language, to which he responded in kind with obvious delight, looking impressed, completely distracting him as she slipped the tracker onto the small detailed cufflink that twinkled temptingly, inches from her finger as they clasped hands.

Hui Sūn was small and round, but the eyes that glinted beneath the folds of skin making up his cheeks contained more intelligence and cunning than a rabid wolf. He would not be taken for a fool and his appearance was as deceiving as Sabelle Dorè.

The opposite was true of the Indian Prime Minister, Akash Singh, he too grasped Ruth's hand with both of his own, making it easy for her to place the tracker on the enormous watch slapped unashamedly across his wrist. He was taller than his Chinese counterpart, but far easier to read, his open features revealing every emotion that played across his face. Contrary to popular belief, this was an advantage as it gave him the appearance of being something that few politicians could claim; trustworthy.

"And last but not least." The Home Secretary announced dramatically as Ruth gratefully took her place between Lucas and Sofia once more. "Ms Sara West, I present you to Prime Minister Shakil Zardari, and Leader Ki Jīnyù."

Ros stepped forwards to greet the two people who she was to become intimately familiar with over the next few days, sizing the up as they walked towards her. She had no problem fitting trackers to either of them; however she would not willingly have played poker with either of them.

The North Korean leader, Ki Jīnyù, was first to approach her. Unusually tall, his intense black eyes seemed to look straight through her while revealing nothing about themselves. Curiously the voice he spoke with was extremely soft and gentle, she felt sure he was lulling her into a false sense of security, like a boa constrictor gently draping itself around her shoulders to ease her into her dreams before throttling her in her sleep.

Likewise, the Pakistani Prime Minister wore a smile similar to one he would wear while dining with her, knowing that he had poisoned her wine. He was a small man with thin lips and cruel scars, almost hidden by his thick black hair, but not quite, the faint, half-forgotten memories that would back up her belief he would have no problems slitting the throat of anyone who crossed him.

Introductions made, Ros slunk back to her place and watched as the Home Secretary thanked them all for coming and bade them a good night's sleep in preparation for the days of what he called, 'constructive debates' and what Ros termed, 'back-stabbing catfights' ahead as they filed gratefully from his office, hopefully none the wiser to the danger they could be in.

As they gathered together in the foyer Lucas asked, "What did you think?" to no-one in particular.

Sofia answered with a wolfish grin.

"Let the games begin..."

A/N: Hopefully you managed to bear with me on this one, this chapter's more of a scene setting one for the ones relating to the talks coming up (that I am, incidentally, terrified of!) The Harry/Ruth scene I'm not sure of, it's not my usual style of writing but we learn by doing so constructive criticism is asked for here :) As always, thank you for reading and reviewing!