Apologies for slightly shabby, plot driven yet plot weak update. I shall endeavour the next to be better!
36 hours of frantic activity and yet still, like a ghost, Kazal had evaded them. Harwich had borne witness to his arrival days before Jo reached there. Faslane had harboured him at some point, though not when Ros and Adam searched the base.
But for all his elusive, evasive presence the operation had been far from a failure. Zaf had discovered the contact on HMS Vanguard, Ros and Adam had tracked the cache of stolen trident missiles and stopped them in transit, killing Kazal's brother in the process. And Jo had pursued the rest of his team, preventing them from leaving the country.
And all of it had happened because of Harry's information.
Standing on the grid, where only he, Ruth and Malcolm remained Harry received the news that Kazal had appeared to have slipped the net yet again.
The chair before him bore the brunt of his frustration.
Ruth knew how he felt.
The buzz of a phone ringing distracted him momentarily as he reached into his jacket pocket and fished out a second mobile. Ruth immediately aware of the surprise on his face as he read the display.
"Just get back here Adam.," he said, disconnecting one call as he accepted the other, his eyes fixing on Ruth.
"James Fellows," he said, tone neutral.
In that moment Ruth knew immediately who the caller was.
And he was keen that she knew, eager to prove that this was both unexpected and unheralded.
"Zofira …" he began, before clearly being interrupted.
A look of concern spread quickly over his face.
"It's okay, calm down. You need to stay where you are. … Where did he say?" he reached out a hand, Ruth found paper for him and he scribbled down an address. "Ok, listen, I'm at the airport, I'll call as soon as I land but promise me you'll stay there until you hear from me?"
He waited for an answer, nodded once and disconnected.
"Kazal," he announced, "We know where he is."
Harry strode towards his office, Ruth implicitly understanding that he wanted her to follow as he called for Malcolm to ready CO19.
"I need you to take this, Ruth," he slid open the drawer of his desk and pulled out a gun, "Then go to the hotel, move Zofira to a safe house and wait."
She looked at him in surprise.
"I know she'll trust you," he said.
He offered out the weapon but she didn't take it.
"I know it's unfair of me to ask, Ruth," he nodded out towards the sparsely occupied grid, "but in the circumstances I don't have a great deal of choice."
"You're going after Kazal?" was her only reply.
He nodded.
"When I've done, I'll come to the safehouse. It won't take long."
He offered the gun once more.
"Please?" he asked softly, "we may need her if things go wrong."
After a moment her hand reached out and closed around the cold metal and also the warm fingers that held it.
"Be careful," she said as he turned towards the door.
"James sent me."
Ruth concluded that Zofira was actually more attractive in person. She had gentle unassuming eyes. Eyes that looked frightened.
"Come in," she stepped aside to let Ruth enter the hotel room.
"Where are we going?" The young woman asked as Ruth picked up the bags Harry had instructed Zofira to pack.
"James' apartment. He thought you'd feel safer there."
Zofira smiled warmly. It was a smile that suddenly made Ruth very aware of what had happened in this room.
She wanted to get out.
They walked into the safe house. It was a modern flat on the river, neutral and unassuming.
"This is where he lives?" Zofira asked curiously of the impersonal space.
"He's away a lot."
"You work with him?"
"I do," answered Ruth, closing and securing the door behind them.
Harry strode into the warehouse, CO19 at his back.
It was the location where Kazal had told Zofira to meet him, insisted despite her protests and, as ever, eventually threatened and told her to bring cash.
Finally, finally, thought Harry, he would capture the ghost.
"Please let me do that," Zofira said, picking up the tray of cups, "you've been kind enough already."
Ruth let her lead the way from the kitchen, painfully aware of the younger woman's slim curved figure and the long lustrous dark hair that fell down her back.
She really didn't need to be faced with this woman who had known Harry in a way she never had.
As the milk was poured Ruth couldn't help but wonder what it had been like.
What he had been like.
On the gird they had continued at work as normal, it was what they did. All of it had happened because Harry was willing to do what it took to make a difference and there Ruth had coped. She had carried on as they always did, no matter the chaos, the evil, the inexcusable, the unacceptable, the barely comprehendible.
But here and now that felt a world away.
This felt fresh and painful and real and she knew it should have been her.
She wanted it to have been her.
"I didn't think I would see him again," Zofira said as she handed Ruth a cup of tea. "But I didn't know who else to call and I was afraid."
"Is he not a little old for you?" Ruth asked without thinking.
Zofira smiled a soft smile.
"He's charming and kind."
Ruth said nothing.
"He's your friend, you must see that?" Zofira asked.
"Perhaps he's not the same with me," said Ruth.
"But…perhaps you wish he was?"
Dark eyes studied bright blue ones. There was no malice in the question, merely a deep, instinctive resonance that caught Ruth by surprise.
She had no chance to answer though because suddenly there came a quiet knock at the door.