I got a wiggle on and managed to complete this chapter before I take a few days away. Thanks to those who reviewed the previous effort.

In the absence of any further sounds Bernard announced, with more than a tinge of relief. "It's over. The groans were just his bleeding out." Ivan, had Bernard bothered to notice his lackey, was looking deeply sceptical, although he managed to maintain a professional tone as he pointed out, "But the woman still lives." Only to have this piffling concern brushed aside by Bernard, "She's unimportant, she won't be able to tell them anything. We can arrange her disposal later." Ivan, of the opinion that Bernard was attempting to reassure himself that the mission had been a success, remained unconvinced. However he also knew better than to contradict the wilfully blind. A few seconds later argument was proved unnecessary as Harry's voice could be clearly heard.

"It's alright Ruth. I promise that no one will ever hurt you again."

Even in the dark Ivan could see the consternation on Bernard's face at this clear evidence that Harry Pearce was not lying dead on his kitchen floor in a welter of blood but, instead, was very much alive. Ivan reckoned Bernard had cause. If half the rumours circulating about Harry Pearce were correct Bernard could anticipate an interestingly painful encounter should they be caught. Despite the need to make a quick exit, for the first time in weeks Ivan was enjoying himself. Bernard's balls were about to be squeezed very hard, either by the legend of MI5 or alternatively whoever was the current interrogator in chief of the FSB. It was though a little early to be punching the air. Shoving the car into gear Ivan, in the absence of any instruction from a stunned Bernard, declared a silent independence and hit the accelerator. He had his own skin to consider, he'd crack open a celebratory vodka and deal with Bernard later. Not necessarily in that order.

Rounding the corner at a speed consistent with the legal limits, Ivan knew all about perils of speed cameras, he was forced courtesy of the one way system to drive past their would be victim's house. Negotiating his way he noticed a couple of vans drawing up outside Harry Pearce's front steps. A sight precipitating a groan Bernard who now understood the reason underlying those strange clicks he'd heard and dismissed as unimportant. Harry, not prepared to take a chance, had surreptitiously notified CO19 of a danger to life. In a few more seconds the area would be swarming with fully tooled up operatives looking forward to a fight. Fortunately Ivan was not for lingering and they exited the street, passing en route the tree shaded corner where Bernard had stood gloating just twenty four short hours ago.

Inside Harry's house his normally well ordered kitchen was a clutter of chaos. The force of Ruth's shot had just skimmed across his shoulder but the shock had sent him reeling backwards thumping into a kitchen unit, whose surface held a variety of cooking implements, underneath which was his wine rack. The failing of his arms as he crashed to the ground had created an interesting performance art work featuring smashed bottles and puddles of booze, interspersed with an array of measuring spoons surrounding the centrepiece of Harry dripping with red wine. A heartwarming vision that any fully paid up member of Alcoholics Anonymous wouldn't hesitate to label, "The alcoholic collapses' prior to bidding for its advertising copyright. Straightening himself up while trying to avoid cutting himself on the debris Harry's more immediate thought was, 'How the hell did she miss?"

Hauling himself to his feet he looked across at Ruth. With relief he saw that she had dropped the gun but was staring at him fixedly, with the same blank expression he was now accepting as her default mode. As he moved towards her, she gave a sudden scream with a decibel level that made him regret that he was minus ear protectors. Then, just as suddenly, the noise ceased and she collapsed onto the floor. Harry approached her carefully, kicking the gun well away into a far corner, then bending over heaved her upwards. Light as she was his muscles winced with the strain of her dead weight. Her eyes still closed she made no reaction as he placed her tenderly on a chair. For a horrible moment Harry wondered if she was now truly dead as he fumbled for her pulse. Thank God. She was still alive. Not sure whether she could hear him he tried to reassure her.

"It's alright Ruth. I promise that no one will ever hurt you again."

Reaction came there none. He gave her a quick pat down, reflecting that this was not the scenario he'd ever envisaged in all those moments when he'd longed to run his hands over her body. No more weapons but given that she was in a kitchen with replete knives and other potentially murderous implements, including shards of glass, the latter reviving a shuddering set of memories, Harry reluctantly decided that he had to treat Ruth as he would any other hostile individual that he'd disabled. Reaching into the far corner of a hidden cupboard secreted behind a kitchen tile he pulled out two sets of handcuffs. With a silent apology, "I'm so sorry Ruth", he cuffed both of her hands and for good measure shackled an ankle to the kitchen bench support.

A quick glance at the wall clock advised him that it was about ten minutes since he'd triggered the alarm when locking his door. He hadn't dared to leave it on the latch least Ruth was just the decoy for a more vicious invading force. Knowing the equipment used by CO19 and wanting, if possible, to avoid replacing the front door, not to mention minimising the disruption that even on a frosty night would bring his neighbours rushing out, he hastened down the hallway. He was just in time. Opening in the door as the enforcer was beginning its forward swing, the men operating the equipment having braced themselves staggered slightly at the unexpected ease of entry, while Harry was caught in full stomach and for the second time in minutes ended up flat on this back, winded, wheezing and trying not to vomit.

The leader turned to announce, "Entry secure" and holding up an arm to avoid further incursion asked Harry, "Clear and safe." Noticing Harry was still trying to catch his breath he leaned forward to help Harry up. It still took a few more seconds before Harry felt it safe to speak. "Yes, but I do need the medic."

"Of course. I'm so sorry Sir Harry,"

Harry managed to avoid snapping as he clarified. "Not for me but for me my.. er… visitor."

"I'll be the judge of that." A calm but stern voice sounded out from behind the CO19 chief.

Harry, now just about returned to normal function and recognising the medic managed to wheeze, "Hell Charles I'm okay but in the kitchen…."

"Very well but I need to check you out as well – is that blood on your shoulder?"

Entering the kitchen and catching sight of the shackled Ruth Charles allowed himself a slight grin.

"You really know how to treat your women Harry."

A witticism that the thunderous expression on Harry's face suggested was not a theme to be explored further.

"Who is she?"

"Ruth Evershed."

That stopped Charles in his humorous tracks, "But she was declared dead as I remember." Not that anyone in the service was likely to forget. Many of the events surrounding that incident had been shrouded in secrecy allowing rumour to be rife, not least because of the gossip regarding Harry Pearce and the analyst.

Harry avoided any detail settling for a simple "I know. I was there."

"Are you sure it really is her?" Charles had met many spooks who suffered from delusions but had never considered Harry to be part of that brotherhood, but really had some form of delayed shock set in!

Harry not appreciating the underlying implications snapped back, "I'm sure. No one could imitate her eyes."

As those eyes were currently closed Charles had to accept Harry's word. "Very well. Chapter and verse on what happened."

After listening to Harry 's tale and concluding that Alice in Wonderland had been lucky to have been presented with only a five impossible things to believe before breakfast, Charles having made a cursory examination of the alleged Ruth – he remained to be convinced of her identity – announced, "Well her heart and breathing seem normal but I can't work out why she's suddenly shut down."

Harry nodded, "It seemed as if she was a zombie throughout – Ruth but not Ruth if you know what I mean."

Charles after a mental review of the options announced, "Well we can't leave her here cluttering up your kitchen and we need to run tests so I think we'll admit her to the service Psychiatric Institution in the first instance. It's secure and Harry you need to come with us."

Harry greeted with announcement with a stubborn glare, before Charles added, "I want to X ray that bump on your head, we need to check out the shoulder injury and.."

"I'm okay."

"Sorry I wasn't aware that you'd obtained medical degree."

Before Harry could argue further Charles added, "And I need to you to sign Ruth's DNA release form so we can verify her identity."

Overborne Harry concurred. "Yes I agree although whatever the outcome I think we're looking at Five's version of Morton's Fork. If it really is her questions need to asked and if it isn't we still need answers."

For those mystified by Harry's closing comment Morton's Fork was a ditty concerning the fund raising efforts of the said Cardinal Morton for the coffers of Henry VII of England. "You're not spending very much/You must be very rich/How about something for the King/ You're spending quite alot/You must be very rich/ How about something for the King." Or words to that effect.

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