"If she had a phone on her, we'd be able to track her," Harry agonised.
Ruth reached across and squeezed his knee, "That's why none of us have phones right now. So we can't be tracked."
Harry huffed his reluctant agreement. He'd been a nervous wreck from the moment she and Calum had arrived. He'd fallen into her arms, practically sobbing. The only reason he hadn't was that Lottie had been clinging to his hand, wide-eyed and terrified that something had happened to her sister.
Harry and Lottie had returned to the flat, desperately hoping Catherine would just walk through the door. Four hours had now passed, and when cold-blooded killers were on her scent, each minute that passed foretold bad news. Ruth's own stomach was in knots, so she could only imagine how Harry was feeling.
"Why would she do it?" He demanded. "What was she thinking?"
He'd been asking the same carousel of questions for the last two-hundred-and-forty minutes, and Ruth still had no answer.
"I think it's hard to know what Catherine's thinking," Was all she could say, considering Harry's eldest daughter, high-strung and volatile by one turn, yet quiet and closed-off by another. She was just as contrary as her father, and equally as secretive. Ruth had been so hopeful that after their conversation this morning, Catherine might be doing a little better. Clearly, she'd been wrong.
She shifted in her seat, attempting to stretch but without much success. She and Harry were sat at the table, a laptop open as Ruth flicked through CCTV. Their shattered daughter had long since fallen asleep on her lap. Ruth's entire body was cramping, but she wouldn't move her sleeping child. Not for anything. She needed to feel her close, now more than ever.
"Got her!" A triumphant voice exclaimed from the sofa, and Harry was instantly on alert.
Calum shot up from the sofa and practically threw the laptop down on the kitchen table. Grainy footage revealed a hooded figure darting into Hyde Park. The figure turned suddenly, checking behind them, and it was then that they caught the flash of blonde hair from beneath the hood. The face wasn't visible but…
"That's Catherine," Harry confirmed. "When was this?"
"About an hour ago."
"A lot can happen in an hour. What the hell was she thinking?!"
Ruth could see his jaw twitching, the veins in his forehead throbbing. He was just about keeping control.
"I can get there in a few minutes," Calum offered. "Leo's already out looking. I'll call him and…"
"She's frightened," Ruth observed. "Look at her body language. Either someone was following her or she thought someone was."
Harry leaned into the grainy image, "I don't see anyone."
"Maybe someone was following her and the park was a means of escape."
"That doesn't explain why she went out in the first place."
"I'll get out there now," Calum muttered, already halfway to the door.
A mere second later, however, a familiar knock echoed around the room and the door swung open to reveal a distinctly ruffled Leo. His shoulders were squared, his jaw tense.
"Leo, what's –."
The burly man stepped aside to reveal…
"Catherine!" Harry half sighed, half shouted. "Thank God."
In three seconds flat, he had crossed the room and folded her into a bone-crushing hug. Catherine permitted the embrace, but remained stiff and unyielding, not even bothering to remove her hands from her pockets.
"Where have you been?" Harry growled, pulling back to glare at his eldest daughter. "What the hell were you thinking? We've been assigned a safe house for a reason. There're rules for a reason."
"Don't talk to me like I'm a child!" Catherine snapped.
"Then don't act like one. Bloody hell, Catherine, you saw what Kinkaid did to Karim Nahas. I thought you'd have more common sense."
"I made sure I wasn't followed."
"Did you?" Harry demanded sceptically. "Did you?"
"Yeah, I did, you patronising prick!" Catherine shot back. "I'm getting pretty good at watching my back."
Lottie stirred, and Ruth watched as her daughter's eyes fluttered open with a frown.
"Why leave in the first place? What could possibly be so important -?"
"I'm a grown woman, Dad! I can go out when I want!"
"Not when there are killers out there gunning for your blood."
Catherine shouldered past him and stalked towards her room.
"Catherine?"
The blonde froze. The tension set into her shoulders faded at the little, half-asleep voice. By the time she'd turned, Lottie had slid off a Ruth's lap and was standing there, rubbing tiny fists into her tired eyes.
"Hey, you," Catherine answered softly.
"You came back."
"'Course I came back."
"I thought the bad man had got you."
Catherine sighed and crouched down to meet the six-year-old, "I just needed some space."
"But you're okay?"
"I'm okay."
"… Okay." Lottie murmured, staring up at her with baleful blue eyes. "Don't go away again."
Catherine offered an unconvincing nod.
Lottie held out her pinkie, "Promise."
Catherine eyed the finger with blatant wariness. For an instant, it looked like she might not respond. Then, slowly, she slid her hand out of her hoodie pocket and linked pinkies.
"Promise." She extracted her finger from Lottie's a ran a soothing hand over the child's head. "I'm gonna go get some sleep, okay? I'm tired."
"We're not done…" Harry growled.
"Yes, we are," Catherine replied, though she sounded more weary than anything, her usual fieriness dimmed to a dull, pale flame.
Without another word, she sauntered off to her room.
Harry looked helplessly at Ruth, but all she could offer was a bland, consoling smile. Catherine was home safely. That was the main thing. She could hazard a guess as to why the blonde was behaving so oddly, but… well… she wasn't sure she could – should – say anything. It wasn't her place.
Calum turned to Leo, "Where'd you find her?"
"St. George's Fields. She gave me the runaround for a bit."
"She's her father's daughter," Ruth noted, standing to comfort her love.
Harry didn't smile in return. All he could grind out was a short, "She's a liability."
"Harry…"
"She could've got herself killed."
"But she didn't. She's back. She's safe."
Calum's phone beeped urgently, the tell-tale sign of an alert. A second later, Leo's beeped too. That couldn't be good. The pair retrieved their phones, and Ruth didn't fail to spot the horrified glance they shared.
"What?" She whispered. "What is it?"
"It's the Admiral," Calum croaked. "The USB – Catherine's USB. It's gone."
Harry arched an incredulous eyebrow, and Ruth could practically see his thunder-and-lightning 'Grid Face' falling into place, "Gone? What do you mean, 'gone'?"
"Someone compromised the Grid and broke into the Admiral's safe. The USB's been taken."
Eyes wide and hearts hammering, Harry and Ruth turned to stare at each other.
Why?
Why was it just one bloody thing after another?
"So, what you're telling me is this," Dimitri surmised, his grey eyes flashing dangerously. "The DG will be down here any minute. He'll want to know how this happened and who the culprit is… and we have nothing. Nothing to give him."
"That's about the sum of it," Calum sighed.
It was getting late. The building was on high alert. No one could get in or out without being searched. Dimitri's exhausted team sat slouched around the meeting room table, top buttons undone, stress-levels high, all unable to answer just how a thief had broken into the Security Service.
"How is there no CCTV?" Dimitri demanded. "There's a camera pointed directly at my office."
"It's the same thing that happened at Mikey Fulton's office. The footage has just… gone. Skipped two hours."
"That's impossible."
"A decent hacker could –."
"Hacking into a civilian property is one thing. Hacking into MI5 for one specific security camera is another," Dimitri grumbled. "They'd have to know it was there."
"So it's the mole," Zack surmised. "We were right. There's been someone in the building, on the Grid this whole time."
"I think so," Dimitri agreed, staring out at the Grid through the clear glass panes. "Possibly the same person who passed Karim Nahas that intel."
"We have copies of the USB at least. And all the hotspots on that map have been alerted. Guards have been increased ten-fold," Liv reported, quick to find the positives.
"That's not the point," Ruth sighed. "The USB's out there – most likely with the Horsemen. With that resource, they could do untold damage. Everything Catherine did… it's like it was for nothing."
There was a long silence as everyone reflected on the truth of her words. It was a harsh reality that they hadn't wanted to face up to.
"Yassin, Liv, you've been tracking Rafiq all day. Any movement?"
"He picked up some bread from the Co-op," Yassin shrugged. "That's it."
"No drops?"
"None that we could see."
"Jodie? Weren't you tracking his phone? What about his mobile; his online activity?"
"Nothing out of the ordinary," The mousy girl whispered, and Ruth couldn't help but notice she was avoiding everyone's eyes. She'd been even quieter than usual since the red flash.
"Jodie?" The older woman prompted gently.
Jodie said nothing, continuing to look anywhere but at her colleagues.
"Jodie, what aren't you telling us?"
The analyst glanced up, wide-eyed and fearful, "N-Nothing."
"Jodie, if you've got something to share, share it," Dimitri growled. "A terrorist organisation is out there with intel that could kill hundreds of thousands of people."
Jodie hesitated. Her mouth opened and closed helplessly in a desperate plight to find her voice.
"Damn it, Jodie!" Dimitri yelled, slamming the table and rising to bear down on the trembling girl. "Speak!"
"Stop it! Just stop it!" Ruth snapped, glaring daggers at her fuming friend. She'd had enough of his bullying. First Calum, then Bart, now Jodie. Couldn't he see he was terrifying the poor girl? Pressuring her wouldn't make her talk any faster. If anything, she'd just clam up. She was a girl, not a terror suspect.
Dimitri bridled, but his swallow betrayed his surprise. He hadn't expected anyone to shout him down, let alone quiet, gentle little Ruth. He'd become accustomed to being the boss; the unrivalled, unquestioned, omniscient centre of the Grid. He looked as if he didn't know whether to retort or step back. In the end, he chose the latter. Jaw tense and looking rather as if he'd swallowed something bitter, he glared at Ruth and jerked his head in Jodie's direction.
The others looked back and forth between the two friends, like children watching their parents fight. Ruth ignored them. She was sitting directly across from Jodie and held out her hand to get the girl's attention.
"Jodie, what is it? If it's anything that can help, we need to know."
She kept her tone calm and measured, just as she did when Lottie was in distress. The mousy analyst glanced up a fraction. Their eyes met and the girl swiftly lowered hers again.
"I saw someone," she mumbled. "Going into Dimitri's office."
"I asked hours ago if anyone saw anything!" Dimitri snarled.
"I thought… it couldn't… I didn't…"
"Alright, take a deep breath," Ruth encouraged gently, and watched as the analyst took her advice. "Now, who went in there? Did you recognise them?"
Jodie frowned, "Of course." There was a pause as they all waited for her to expand. She finally chanced a timid look round at them all. Then she swallowed and shook her head. "It's probably nothing…"
"Jodie, who went in there?" Ruth pressed.
Jodie shot her a pleading glance, as if somehow willing Ruth not to hate her, "Bartholomew Winstanley."
Silence reigned, deep and deafening.
"Bart?" Ruth croaked.
"That's impossible," Calum scoffed.
"It's what I saw."
"He was probably just cleaning up," Ruth justified, trying not to let her heart hurt at the prospect of another friend's betrayal. It was Bart. She'd known him for years. He couldn't. He wouldn't.
"Yeah, he always goes into Dimitri's office to clear up after meetings," Calum nodded.
"I know, that's why I thought…" Jodie whispered, turning her wide eyes onto Dimitri. "But when I went to put the midday report on your desk, he was… hovering… near the safe. And he looked… guilty. Really guilty." She dropped her gaze and shook her head. "I don't know. It's probably –."
"No," Calum said firmly. "No, it wasn't him."
"Then who was it? The invisible man?" Dimitri muttered, turning to Yassin. "Go and find Winstanley and escort him to the interrogation room."
"Dimitri, it's Bart!" Ruth spluttered. "He's the gentlest man in the world. Do you really think he's capable of –?"
"What I've learned in this job is that people are just about capable of anything," Dimitri snarled, before barking further instructions at Yassin. "Stay with him until Zack and I get there. Don't engage, just wait for me."
"Dimitri, it's not Bart."
"Shut up, Ruth, or can't we stop your know-it-all gob from flapping for one bloody minute?!"
The room fell silent again.
Calum glanced, stricken, at Ruth, who felt her eyes fill with embarrassingly easy tears. Tears of shock. Of humiliation. Of sheer, overwhelming exhaustion. The day had started out badly enough, with Harry treating her like a fragile, broken mess. And now she threatened to bow under the pressure of tears, all because of a simple, catty comment. A comment nevertheless made by a man she trusted, cared for, loved as a brother; who had defended her countless times in the past. And it only served to emphasise to her just how much had changed. How much she didn't fit anymore in this place she'd once called home.
She refused to break down in front of Dimitri's team; to be humiliated further by this bully she'd once called a friend. So, with her head held high, Ruth turned on her heel and stormed out. She didn't know where she was headed. All she knew was that she had to get away – away from Dimitri, away from the sodding Grid.
Behind her, she could just about hear Calum mutter to their boss, "You're a real dick, d'you know that?"
It had reached six o'clock and Ruth still wasn't home. Harry could only guess at what was happening at the Grid. He could only guess at how far Section D had fallen to have let one of the Horsemen walk right in there and take life-threatening intel. I mean, what the hell had Dimitri been thinking? You didn't store state secrets in an office safe. That was what the high security vaults were for.
He growled under his breath and found himself walking to the kitchen to make yet another cup of tea. He didn't really want one, but there wasn't much else to do. He needed to do something with his hands. He was sure he was going to go mad if he had to endure this mundane banality for much longer. Once upon a time, he'd been at the forefront of it all, battling for Queen and Country. Now, the fate of the nation hung in the balance and he was trapped like a caged tiger in this pokey little flat whilst his love fought the battle for him. It didn't feel right. He was starting to understand why Catherine had chosen to 'escape'.
Harry sighed. He chucked his tea bag into the bin and blew on the scalding liquid. After an emotionally exhausting day, Lottie had been fit for nothing, so he'd had put her down for a nap. Catherine still hadn't come out of her room, and Leo had gone downstairs to grab some food with the other officers. That left Harry with a silent flat and way too much time to think. Over the years, he'd found thinking to be a dangerous sport. It allowed demons to roost, and he couldn't afford to be crippled by old nightmares. He was more of a doer. He combatted the horrors of his past by making right what he could in the present. Only, if he couldn't do anything… well… what use was he?
He was shaken from his misery by the sound of footsteps. Tea in hand, he padded out of the kitchen to find Catherine tiptoeing down the hall. She caught sight of him and froze. Catherine clearly expected him to carry on shouting, and Harry didn't know whether to shout or let it go. After all, how could he realistically stay angry at her for something that, deep down, he completely understood?
He'd never been terribly good at words, so instead he lifted his mug in silent offer. She hesitated, then nodded. He retreated back into the kitchen. When he came back out with another cuppa, Catherine had curled up on the sofa, staring listlessly out of the window. It had started up with another fine drizzle. The clouds remained a relentless dull grey, and Harry was beginning to wonder if it ever stopped raining in England.
"Thanks," Catherine said quietly, accepting the mug.
Harry eased himself down beside her, "You're welcome."
There was a long unsettling silence as they sipped their teas. Harry watched his daughter, observing the quiet sadness in her thinning frame. It broke his heart to see her so vulnerable.
"Did you sleep?"
"A bit."
Another lengthy pause.
"I'm sorry, Dad. I didn't mean to worry you."
Harry sighed, "I know. I'm sorry I shouted."
"I just couldn't stay cooped up here anymore. I felt like a caged tiger."
Harry couldn't help but smile.
"What?"
Harry shook his head, still smiling, "Nothing. You're just… your father's daughter."
Catherine's expression was unintelligible as she considered his words. Instead, she took another sip of tea and glanced around the room.
"Where's Lottie?"
"Napping."
"And Ruth?"
Harry's face fell. How was he going to tell Catherine that the USB she'd risked everything for had been stolen?
"Dad?"
"Ruth had to go back to work."
Catherine was watching him very carefully now. Her clever eyes burned into his, vying, as ever, for the truth, "What's going on?"
"Nothing."
"Dad, for a spook you're a crap liar."
Harry exhaled heavily, "There's been a red flash at Thames House."
"That doesn't sound good."
"It's not," he swallowed and summoned the courage to look his daughter in the eyes. "Basically, it means they're on high alert for a terrorist attack."
Catherine's hazel eyes went round, "The Horsemen…"
"The flash drive you took from Alfursan Alarbe… it's been stolen."
The blonde turned white, "I'm sorry – what?!"
"The flash drive –."
"How the hell has it been stolen?"
"I don't know. Most likely, someone infiltrated Section D and –."
"You're the bloody security services."
"I'm not," Harry murmured bitterly under his breath.
Catherine didn't seem to hear him, "It was supposed to be safe with you. Things were supposed to get better!"
"I know," Harry muttered, hating seeing the tears build up in his daughter's eyes. He was just as angry as she was, for he too had brought the USB to the Grid with the assumption that they'd keep it safe. It was a shaming day for MI5 and a dark day for Great Britain should those responsible not be caught.
"It was all for nothing," Catherine choked out. "Everything I did was for nothing."
"Ruth, Calum and everyone on the Grid are doing everything they can –."
"They won't find it," Catherine said hollowly, shoving the half-empty mug into the coffee table, "Ollie's clever."
"There's no evidence Kinkaid got in there."
"Who else could it have been?"
"Anyone," Harry said firmly. "We don't know who else works for the Horsemen yet."
"Oh, great," Catherine snapped. "That makes me feel so much better." She rose from the sofa and stalked back towards the hall.
"Catherine…"
"I'm going to bed. I'll see you tomorrow. Unless we all get blown up in our beds before then."
"Catherine, don't…"
The blonde disappeared into her room. Harry groaned and stared miserably into the murky depths of his tea, wishing it was something stronger.
Her throat ached, her eyes were sore and her nose felt swollen and raw. Still, Ruth blew it one more time in symphony with a small, silent sob.
It was stupid. She was so stupid for breaking down over a trivial bollocking from Dimitri. She was fairly sure she'd received worse from Harry back in the day. But the weight of everything had overwhelmed her. It had just built up and up and up until, suddenly, she could barely breathe. The walls that had been slowly closing in since this whole mess started had begun to crush her. And like the coward she was, she hadn't fought, hadn't held her ground. She'd crumbled, imploded. Oh, she'd done her best to stay strong – for Harry, for Lottie, for Catherine, and even for Dimitri, but perhaps the reality was that she was exactly the fragile mess Harry perceived her to be.
"Ruth?"
Three small knocks reverberated against the outside door.
"Ruth?" Another three taps. "You in there?"
Ruth didn't reply. Her voice ached and her nose was stuffy. If she spoke, Calum would know she'd been crying.
"You're not gonna make me come into the Girls Toilets, are you?" He pleaded, sounding for all the world like an awkward teen who still viewed girls as an alien species. She snorted in spite of herself.
There was a long pause, then…
"I'm coming in. If there are any girls – uhhh… women in there, I just to warn you, I'm coming in."
Ruth couldn't help smile, even as another tear cascaded down her cheek. For a boastful, over-confident young man, Calum was endearingly awkward when it came to women.
The door to the Ladies swung open and footsteps clattered along the tiles.
"Ruth?"
She listened to the footsteps run parallel with the cubicles until they stopped. He'd presumably found hers – the only occupied stall.
"Can you, uhhh… just… give me a sign that it's you, and not some random woman from Section A?"
Ruth exhaled shakily and shook her head. What was the point in hiding? He already knew how weak she was. He'd witnessed her screaming last night.
"It's me," she confirmed hoarsely.
There was a pause.
"Okay," Calum's reply was soft and gentle.
Another silence, then she heard shuffling, a thump, and finally, a small groan, "Ow."
"Calum?"
"Fine," he said in a pained voice. "Just… sitting on the floor. Not as young as I used to be."
"Tell me about it," Ruth sighed, hating how nasal she sounded. She swiped once more at her dribbling nose.
There was a moment of contemplative silence, "Fuck Dimitri, Ruth. He was being a complete dick. It's his fault for keeping the USB in that bloody safe in the first place. He's taking it out on you 'cause he's realised the team listen to you."
Ruth rested her head against the cool wood of the cubicle and sucked in a couple of deep breaths.
"I know it feels like everything's changed. And it has. You, me… we're relics of different era. Six years ago, I thought being out in the field was fresh and exciting. A chance to prove myself. Now, when I tell the kids – Yassin, Liv – not to be so cocky, they call me Grandpa. You have no idea how glad I am that you're here – y'know, terrorist threat aside. You don't just bring us brains. You bring us heart. You show us the bad and the good. That not everyone out there's an enemy. That Bart's innocent until proven guilty."
"And what if he is guilty?" Ruth asked, voicing the fear ricocheting around her head; the terror that maybe she'd got it wrong. Books and information had always been her strength; she'd never been terribly good at reading people.
"You know he's not. It's Bart, Ruth. He runs marathons for kids with cancer. He'd rather die than put thousands of lives at risk. He's not a traitor."
"I didn't think Lucas North was a traitor."
"Who?"
Ruth sighed, "Never mind." She ran her hands over her face, and smoothed out her hair, which was fast on its way to becoming a bird's nest. "We have no evidence to prove Bart's innocence. For all we know - ."
"So let's know."
"What?"
"Let's ask him."
Ruth snorted, "That's…"
She frowned. She'd been about to tell him that was ridiculous. But... why? Why was it ridiculous? Because Dimitri wouldn't let them see him? Bart's freedom was at stake, and if they had any doubt at all that he was guilty, they owed it to him to help. She stood, flushed her tissue down the toilet and unlocked the cubicle. Calum was sitting, legs splayed out across the floor. He straightened in surprise and banged his head on the wall.
"Ow."
Ruth held out her hands to help pull him to his feet, "Dimitri knows we're on Bart's side. He'll never let us see him."
Calum winked, "Leave that to me. I've got a plan."
By the time they reached the interrogation room, Yassin was there. As per instruction, he hadn't engaged with Bart; he merely stood outside the room, stoic and poised – the perfect guard. Through the tiny window, they could see Bart, sitting bewilderedly in the invasive space. His knee was jiggling up and down and he was obviously distressed.
"Yassin," Calum called, and Yassin turned. He didn't look very surprised to see them there.
"You can't see him, Calum."
"Just give us a minute."
"I know he's your friend, but Dimitri said –."
"Dimitri also said to fill out an S24 when seeing people outside of work. Does he know about that brunette I saw you with at Tamesis Dock the other night?"
Yassin blanched, "Y-You were seeing things."
"No, I don't think so. It was definitely you."
"She was a friend."
"You kiss all your friends like that?"
Yassin looked torn between yelling and ripping Calum to pieces. He was completely beet red and utterly, utterly horrified.
"You bastard."
"Give us five minutes with him."
"You wouldn't…"
"Oh, I would," Calum said, stepping dangerously towards the other man. "I'm a bastard, remember?"
Yassin was bigger and bulkier than Calum, and could probably flatten him in about ten seconds. But Calum had always pushed the limits and won. It seemed now was no exception. Yassin took a step back, intimidated by the determined gleam in the older man's eyes. It was then that Ruth caught a glimpse of just how much Calum Reed had grown.
"Dimitri said –."
"What was it Dimitri said the other week about cracking down on unregistered relationships? No more slapped wrists. Hearings… field agents demoted to desk duties…"
Yassin swallowed and looked past them down the hall. There was no sign of Dimitri.
Yet.
"Five minutes," The young officer conceded. "And you never hang this over me again."
"Absolutely."
Yassin shot Calum one last thunderous glare before stepping aside.
Bart was on his feet the second the door opened. He couldn't have been expecting Calum and Ruth to appear because he practically sobbed with relief. His body which had been thrumming with tension relaxed every so slightly.
"Cal! Ruth! What's going on? They didn't tell me anything. Yassin and Liv just came and took me down here. Is this a joke or what?"
"It's no joke, Bart," Calum said seriously. "A dangerous artefact's been stolen from the Admiral's safe."
Bart frowned, clearly trying to comprehend how this affected him. He recoiled suddenly, "What, and you think I took it?"
"I don't know," Calum replied, his tone uncharacteristically harsh. "Did you?"
There wasn't moment's hesitation. All Ruth could detect in Bart's voice was pure, raw hurt, "No!" He looked between them, aghast. "No! I'm not a thief! You know I'm not."
"You were in the room when Dimitri opened the safe. You'd have been able to see the combination," Ruth said quietly, loathing herself for putting her friend through this.
"I didn't see the combination! I was too busy picking up broken biscuits!"
"A smokescreen," Calum suggested.
"No! Clumsiness! I've always been clumsy. You know that!" Bart turned his pleading gaze onto Ruth. "Ruth, please! You've known me for years."
Ruth looked away, a horrid hollowness in the pit of her stomach. This was wrong. Her instinct was crying Bart's innocence room the rooftops. And yet, they had to make sure.
"A witness saw you hovering near the safe when you went to collect the cups from this morning's meeting," she informed him evenly.
"What?"
"You heard," said Calum. "Were you there?"
"Well, yeah, I had to tidy up. That's my job. But I didn't take anything. I wasn't anywhere near the safe. Ask Jodie. She'll tell you. I was just getting the cups from Dimitri's desk and was about to leave when she came in."
And like the flick of a switch, everything suddenly made sense. Ruth met Calum's alarmed gaze and knew that he'd had the same lightbulb moment.
"You've got to believe me!" Bart begged.
Ruth saw Calum's infinitesimal nod.
"We believe you, Bart," she said, finally offering him a reassuring smile.
Bart glanced anxiously between them, searching for the truth in their eyes. He must have found it because he heaved a huge sigh of relief.
"We believe you," Calum told him seriously. "But we have a certain level of trust here. And if you break it… if we find out you're lying…"
"I'm not, I swear. Why would I lie? Why would I steal something like… like..." He frowned suddenly. "Wait… What's been stolen?"
"A USB mapping the whereabouts of… dangerous weapons."
Bart's eyes widened, "The one Catherine Townsend took from the Horsemen?"
It was Calum's turn to look shocked, "How d'you know about that? You don't have clearance - ."
"I'm the Idiot-Who-Makes-The-Tea. I go everywhere and hear everything. People just never think the tea boy's listening."
"Maybe don't mention that to Dimitri," Ruth suggested weakly.
"What? Why?"
"Because right now, he thinks you took that USB."
"But I didn't! Why would I?"
"Money?" Calum cut in quietly. "Information like that would be a valuable commodity to any terrorist organisation, let alone dodgy Government powers. You said yourself you don't get paid much."
"I thought you said you believed me!"
"We do," Ruth said gently. "But Dimitri doesn't. And this is exactly the line of questioning Dimitri's going to take."
"So I'll tell him what I told you."
"I don't think he'll be as quick to trust you as us."
Bart's eyes welled with tears of frustration; of indignation at the unfairness of it all, "But I didn't do anything!" He ran a hand over his damp face before staring plaintively at the pair. "Please. Help me."
"We'll do everything we can," Ruth promised grimly. "I've a nasty feeling someone's using you as a scapegoat."
"Bart, the CCTV camera by Dimitri's office has been tampered with. The whole time window of the theft has gone," Calum told him, checking his watch and glancing at the door. They were running out of time.
"Well, there you go! I wouldn't know how to do any of that technical stuff."
"It's a flimsy argument. And that lack of CCTV basically means it'd be easy for anyone to be the culprit. No one saw anything except one person. One person who says they say you by the safe."
"I've told you! I wasn't by the safe."
"What did you see, Bart?" Ruth asked, changing tack. "Between 11am and 1pm. That's when the theft would've taken place."
"I always have an early lunch. So I didn't get to the Grid until 12:05. There wasn't anyone in Dimitri's office when I went in. The only person who came in was Jodie and that was just to deliver some report."
"Did you see her leave?"
"I guess. I mean… I left before her, but she was probably just behind me."
"But you didn't see her leave."
"No, but –."
The sound of yelling permeated the room and not a second later, the door flew open to reveal a purple-faced Dimitri, "What the hell are you doing?!"
Calum held out a placating hand, "We were just - ."
Dimitri's teeth were clenched so tight, Ruth was convinced they might crack. The vein in his forehead was throbbing and his purple face was darkening to an alarming shade of aubergine. He cast his enraged gaze over Calum, then Ruth, then finally Yassin, who hung his head like a chastised puppy.
"I thought I told you not to engage!" Dimitri roared at Yassin. "And what are you two doing here?!"
"Dimitri, if you'd just pull you head out of your arse for one second and listen to Bart-" Ruth snapped.
"I'm about to listen to Bart, and you two are about to leave," Dimitri spat. "And if you ever speak to me like that again…"
"I'm not here to be a punch bag, Dimitri," Ruth spat back. "I'm here for my family, and I'm here as a favour to you. But if you ever speak to me like that again, you can find yourself another analyst." She turned to Bart, who'd shrunk back into his seat. "Hold on, Bart. We'll get to the bottom of this."
And for the second time that day, she turned on her heel and walked out on Dimitri. However much her friend had been through, he needed to know that it didn't give him the right to treat people like dirt. She didn't feel the slightest bit guilty for talking back to him in front of junior personnel, and she definitely didn't regret going over his head to speak to Bart. They had a lead, even if Dimitri refused to see it.
Calum followed her out, raising a gloating eyebrow as if to say, "So there". They walked off in silent solidarity. It was only when they turned out of the corridor and into the stairway that Calum spoke.
"Are you thinking what I'm thinking?"
Ruth nodded grimly, "Jodie?"
"Jodie."
"So you think this analyst…?"
" – Jodie –"
" – Jodie, took the stick?"
"It's the best explanation we have so far."
"But why would she take it? How could she take it? Thames House searches are vigorous. No one could get anything in or out."
"Maybe it's still there."
"You said every desk was searched."
"I don't know, Harry," Ruth groaned, burying her head in his shoulder. "All I know is that Bart didn't take it."
"And how do you know that, exactly?"
"Because I saw the truth in his eyes. Calum and I asked him to his face and he swore he didn't take it."
"And you believe him?"
Ruth pulled away, glaring, "If you dare say I'm naïve…"
"I'm not saying you're naïve," Harry placated her gently, tracing his thumb along her cheek. "I just think you need evidence before jumping to conclusions."
"She lied, Harry. Bart was nowhere near the safe. Why would she lie if not to cover her own back?"
"Which brings me to my previous question – why would she take it? What's her motive?"
"I can have a sneaky look through the personnel files tomorrow."
"Ruth…"
"You looked at mine."
Flashes of Angela Wells' disastrous visit to the Grid bombarded his mind.
"Yes, and you were angry at me for weeks because of it."
Ruth pulled away, fiddling with the hem of her cardigan. That day had seen the first stirrings of physical intimacy between them. The first undeniable admission that there was something more there. And yet, he could also remember the way she'd slammed files down on his desk and shrunk away whenever he'd reached out to her. She'd drifted back to him in the end, but he'd resolved never to betray her privacy in such a way again.
"You called me a 'Born Spook'," she recalled after a moment.
"I did. And you are," Harry confirmed, missing her warmth pressed up against him. The living room was pitch black, save only for the tiny standard lamp by the sofa. Their shadows painted pretty pictures on the Magnolia walls, and Harry could watch the sudden distance playing out between them. He hated it.
"But you don't believe me."
"I'm out of the loop, sweetheart. I don't know enough about these people to say either way. Technically speaking, I'm a civilian. You probably shouldn't be telling me as much as you have."
"You were Section Head. You signed the Official Secrets Act."
"Even so."
"We're a team," Ruth mumbled. "We said we'd fight this together."
Harry smiled softly. God, he loved this woman. Even when things were dire, a potential terror attack was imminent and the service seemed to have rejected him completely, Ruth still knew how to melt his heart. Clearly, she didn't see him as 'past it'. Indeed, he'd do whatever he could to help her get to the bottom of this. To his shame, he'd never really bothered to get to know staff like Bartholomew Winstanley. He'd always been too tired, too busy, too important. And he regretted that very much.
Their conversation was interrupted by a sudden knocking on the door. The 'secret knock'. He and Ruth shared a baffled glance. They hadn't been expecting anyone. Indeed, it was way past midnight and whoever it was clearly held no regard for normal sleep conventions. Still, they rose to meet their guest just as the door swung open to reveal a familiar face.
"Dimitri,"
The younger man stepped over the threshold and shut the door behind him.
"Sorry, it's late," Dimitri murmured, and was it Harry's imagination or was he avoiding Ruth's eyes? "I just… I needed to apologise."
"For the USB?" Harry frowned.
Dimitri hung his head, suddenly looking very young and vulnerable in spite of his lined face and speckled grey hair, "For that. And for…"
He tailed off, leaving whatever he'd been about to say to float off into the ether.
"Well, that's specific," Harry said dryly.
He turned to ask Ruth what exactly was going on, and was quite bewildered to see her glaring at Dimitri. Ruth wasn't the type to hold grudges so this… didn't make sense.
"What's going on?" Harry asked sharply.
Dimitri finally met Ruth's gaze, "I'm sorry, Ruth. What I said… the way I said it… it was rude and uncalled for and... I'm sorry."
Harry stared at Ruth, flummoxed. She'd told him many things tonight, but she'd neglected to mention an argument with Dimitri.
Ruth stared the younger man down, "The theft made you feel small and powerless. And you did everything you could to make your team – including me – feel small and powerless, just so you could feel big."
"I know. I'm sorry. It won't happen again, I promise."
Ruth's hard gaze turned to pity, "Can you promise that, Dimitri?"
"What do you mean?"
"I mean, can you control your emotions long enough to stop that from happening?"
The soft humility in Dimitri face faded, and he stared back at her, chest heaving, face warring between anger and objection.
"Of course I –."
"Can you?"
Dimitri gulped and looked away.
Ruth approached him slowly, gently, as one might tame a wild beast, "You're hurting, and you won't let anyone in. If you'd just talk to someone."
"I've not got time to talk to someone, Evershed," Dimitri snapped. "We're on red alert."
"And in the meantime, your feelings are compromising your judgement."
Dimitri rolled his eyes, his jaw twitching dangerously, "Seriously, Ruth?"
"Bart is innocent."
"And how d'you know that? Because he's your friend. Because he told you so?"
"Yes."
"Now whose judgement is compromised?"
"You won't explore other possibilities –."
"Not when there are no other possibilities, no."
"Jodie."
Whatever Dimitri had been expecting her to say, it wasn't that. He frowned, utterly confused, "Jodie?"
"She lied. She said she caught Bart standing directly near the safe. Bart was in the room, yes, collecting the coffee things, but he wasn't anywhere near the safe."
"Yeah, that's what Bart said," Dimitri growled. "But how do you know that's not a lie."
"Because I know Bart."
"And I thought I knew Lucas North," Dimitri snapped. "People aren't always who you think they are."
"Bart is a goodman."
"So, what – you think Jodie did this?"
"I don't know. Maybe."
"She was reluctant enough to tell us about Bart. I'm pretty sure a guilty person would be much more forthright."
"Not necessarily."
"Why are you so keen to fit Jodie into the frame? She's an innocent girl."
"And Bart's an innocent man."
There was a brief pause, both friends glaring daggers at each other.
"The DG has spoken to Bart and collected evidence from Jodie," Dimitri said quietly. "He's also convinced of Bart's guilt. CCTV of the pods prove no unauthorised personnel entered the Grid. It had to be someone in the room. Bart can flit easily between Sections. He sees and hears everything. He doesn't have Gold Level clearance but he sees and knows enough to gather intel. He's been the mole from the beginning, passing on information to Alfursan Alarbe."
Harry thought back to the clumsy tea boy who'd once crashed an entire trolley into Ros Myers' desk. The image just didn't correlate with the calm, calculating traitor Dimitri was describing.
"Has he admitted that?" He asked sharply.
Dimitri turned his steady gaze onto him, "Not yet, no."
"Then surely he's innocent until proven guilty," Ruth declared.
"The DG believes his guilt, that's good enough for me."
"Who is the DG?" Harry asked.
"Tim Howard."
Harry grunted, "That bonehead. He used to rely on Oliver Mace to do his thinking for him."
"You can't say that," Dimitri sighed, exasperated. "He's the DG."
"My point is, he probably couldn't detect his own backside, let alone a traitor."
"So you agree with Ruth?"
"I agree that you should explore other options."
"I'd appreciate it if you didn't tell me how to do my job," Dimitri growled. "You're not Section Head anymore, Harry."
Harry blinked at the audacity of his once faithful friend. "No, but I know I'd never store state secrets in a public office safe." He looked Dimitri dead in the eye. "And I know I can still detect an arsehole a mile off."
"What's an arsehole?"
Stricken, Harry and Ruth whipped around to find a sleepy Lottie standing there in her pyjamas, looking thoroughly confused. They'd been so busy arguing, they hadn't even noticed the little girl emerging from the hall.
"Not a word you need to know, darling," Ruth said firmly, swooping down to pick her up.
"Who are you?" Lottie asked Dimitri, but the Section Head merely stared back at her, mortified.
"Let's get you back to bed," Ruth murmured, throwing an unhappy glance at Dimitri before heading down the hall. "I'll see you tomorrow, Dimitri."
And with that, they disappeared into Lottie's bedroom.
Dimitri hovered awkwardly for a moment before turning towards the door, "I'd better go."
"Yes, I think you'd better."
Dimitri deflated suddenly, as if he'd only just realised how badly his 'apology' had gone. He shuffled sadly towards the door.
"Dimitri?"
The younger man turned.
"Out of every spook I ever met, Ruth's instincts were always the best. I didn't always listen to those instincts, and when I didn't, someone often ended up paying the price. Usually Ruth." He thought back the vicious nightmare that had set Ruth screaming into the abyss the night before. "I refused to listen to her about John Bates and she nearly died. I refused to listen to her about Jim Coaver and she…" He stopped and took a steadying breath. Even now, the guilt was still too raw, too palpable. By the time he'd recovered, Dimitri was staring miserably at his feet, clearly recalling the same horrific night. "Don't make the same mistake I did. Please. Because if anything happens to her, Dimitri… I'll kill you."
Dimitri swallowed and, inch by inch, raised his eyes to meet Harry's. There was a fierceness there, a passion that Harry hadn't seen since their return to England.
"I won't let anything happen to her, Harry. I promise."
Harry nodded once.
Dimitri nodded back.
Then he turned on his heel and left. Harry stood staring at the door for minute longer, praying the younger man would pay heed to his words. Once upon a time, Dimitri would've hung on his every syllable, and been loyal to a fault. It was obvious that he was still very loyal to both he and Ruth, but time and trauma had changed him – and Harry was terrified that if it came down to it, Dimitri wouldn't make the right choice. He'd let his heart rule his head at the expense of others. Harry could only hope he was wrong.
London was asleep. The city was quiet – or at least as quiet as London could be. The occasional thumping bass and raucous laughter permeated the thick walls, but otherwise, all was silent and still. And yet Ruth's head was a roaring tornado of noise and mess. She couldn't get the image of Bart's wide, terrified eyes out of her head; the injustice of the charges against him. And not only that – her stomach churned at the thought of what Alfursan Alarbe would do now that they had the USB in their charge. Would attacks be imminent? How big would they be? The casualties could be catastrophic.
Ruth rolled over and stared at the alarm. 5:15AM. She'd barely slept. Every time she'd closed her eyes, she'd sensed shadows lurking in the forefront of her mind – the tell-tale signs of another nightmare. There was no way she was going to wake her family up with more blood-curdling screams. So, in the end, she just stayed awake.
Harry snored lightly beside her, and she ran a hand absently over his shoulder. For a moment, she wondered how he could sleep after the day they'd endured. Then she realised that he must've been exhausted, physically and emotionally. She didn't think she'd ever seen him as frightened as when Catherine had gone missing. During those long hours, he'd not been Harry Pearce, fearless former Section Head, but Harry, a helpless father whose daughter had disappeared. There had been no bravado or false bravery. He'd been terrified, pure and simple. Terrified that his little girl and been snatched by ruthless murderer and condemned to a sickening fate. She wasn't sure Catherine fully comprehended the worry she'd put Harry through. Perhaps she still didn't realise how much he loved her.
A sudden noise dragged her from her thoughts. It was faint, muffled by the thick walls, and she couldn't quite place it. It was no clearer when she sat up to listen, but she had an inkling as to what, or rather, whoit was.
Carefully, she inched out of bed, mindful not to wake Harry. Once outside, it became blatantly clear what the sound was.
A woman. Crying.
As usual, it was coming from the bathroom. Ruth approached cautiously.
She found Catherine curled up on the tiles, sobbing into her arms. Her hair was greasy and mussed, as if the blonde had been continually running her hands through it. Ruth crouched down and gingerly placed a hand on the younger woman's arm.
"Catherine?"
Catherine seemed too distraught to react, instead curling tighter into a ball. It was a mark of just how embroiled in her own grief she was that when Ruth slid a tentative arm around her shoulders, she didn't pull away. She simply cried harder. Ruth cast around for the trigger of the blonde's devastation. The toilet bowl was, for once, empty, so she hadn't been sick.
Then she saw it.
A small, thin blue and white stick resting on the counter. Ruth couldn't read it from where she was, but she could guess the result. Her heart started to thump heavily in her chest, and she glanced sadly at Catherine. So, her instincts had been right.
"Catherine? Are you…?"
For the first time, Catherine looked up. Her eyes were red raw and swollen. There was an edge of wild frenzy to her glassy gaze.
"I'm pregnant," she sobbed, seizing handfuls of her own hair. "I'm pregnant!"
A/N. Thank you so much to each and every person who reviewed. You made my day! Next update soon.