As this will be my last post this year Happy Christmas and New Year to everyone. As ever thanks to all of those who read the story and an especial thanks to those who reviewed.

Harry's invisible nerves were mounting. Past history, in which he'd spent way too many hours stewing in hospital waiting rooms, suggested that when medical staff finally deigned to appear they were inevitably the harbinger of ill tidings. The casting of Charles as the twenty first century incarnation of Typhoid Mary therefore dictated that any update on Ruth would not be notable for its good news. The only positive Harry could take from the current situation was that at least the unit was secure and Ruth was safe – safe from precisely what being the task Malcolm was currently enmeshed in. Having arrived at two o'clock promptly and undergone the laborious but necessary security identification procedures before he was admitted across the threshold - 'Sorry Sir Harry but everyone means everyone' - he'd now been waiting in Charles' office for at least twenty minutes, the only activity on offer being the opportunity to stare at the bookshelves situated behind the absent incumbent's desk. As the contents of the said shelves dripped titles relating to various forms of psychosis, addictions and related medical problems this was not a soothing prelude to Charles' eventual arrival. In a professional effort to ease his discomfort a nurse had twice popped in to offer him a nice cup of tea, which he'd twice refused politely. Malt whisky, his tipple of choice, would feature heavily when he finally slammed his front door on the day. Then he would either drown his sorrows or, much less likely, celebrate the return of Ruth from the dead. Impatience was beginning to encourage him to ignore the regulations and abandon the office in favour of prowling the corridors in search of the missing medic.

Fortunately at this point Charles bustled in, "My apologies Harry but I was delayed by the need to sedate a patient before they really went OTT and then I wanted to get an update on Ruth."

"And."

Charles ignoring Harry's obvious irritation took his time settling himself into the consultant's chair on the opposite side of the desk. In his domain even the fearsome Head of Counter terrorism was a suppliant. Point made and before Harry could combust Charles cleared his throat prior to speaking.

"The good news is that she's stable, we've done a full body scan and all her physical organs are intact and functioning as they should." Seeing the obvious question trembling on Harry's lips he added, "The scar from the stab wound has been sutured very professionally, likewise the damaged blood vessels have been repaired. However I suspect that she is on some form of painkiller."

Harry was scowling, "Can't you tell?"

Charles gave a sigh, "Not easily because she seems to have quite a cocktail of drugs in her system and we're still undertaking various tests to isolate and then establish exactly what she's been given and the dosage. Even when we do identify the mix we may have another problem– after eighteen months she's probably become addicted and…"

He halted at the sight of Harry's involuntary wince, recalling suddenly the gossip regarding Harry's son who had a history of drug abuse. Having allowed Harry a few seconds to process this and to suppress any horrific memories Charles very reluctantly continued.

"That however is not the main problem – we can treat addiction – what is more worrying is her mental state."

"Which is?"

Charles was already anticipating the explosion when he made his next statement.

"Before I comment I need you to explain exactly what took place yesterday evening."

Harry, wanting to avoid being shovelled onto an anger management course, he only lost his temper with idiots –with whom it was his misfortune to be surrounded – managed to reply through gritted teeth, "I went over that last night."

Charles nodded, "Yes, but I need it in more depth and not prejudiced by anything I may tell you."

Refusing to shrivel under the infamous Pearce glare he added in a more conciliatory tone, "Please Harry it is important that you recount your memory of yesterday evening untainted by anything I may say."

Suddenly recalling that Malcolm had set an exercise for the Grid staff on much the same basis Harry abandoned his objections.

"Very well, what is the starting point?

"From when you answered the door and saw Ruth standing there. What happened next?"

"I stared at her until she said it was cold."

"How long before she said that?"

Harry considered. "A few seconds. I apologised and invited her in. Then I moved and allowed her to enter."

Charles made a quick note before saying, "Continue."

"She walked in about, four maybe five paces and then stopped." Unprompted he added, "It did seem a little strange that when she halted she was motionless, like a statue."

After a further scribble on his memo pad Charles asked, "Then."

"As I said she just stood there." Proffering an opinion Harry added, "Something else struck me as unexpected – apart from her appearing at all that is." Before Charles could ask him to explain that statement Harry elucidated further, "Ruth had never been in my house and even leaving aside our relationship I'd have expected some curiosity, she is or rather was an analyst and a shark for detail."

Charles unwound a tad, "I was about to ask that question, so what came next?"

"I directed her towards the kitchen but again a delay before she started to move and again no head turn or comment, including one about a picture I would have expected her to notice."

Taking a further breath and a pause Harry exhaled an impatient sigh. "Really Charles is this necessary?"

The reply was terse, "Yes I'll explain later but now the crux. What happened in the kitchen?"

Harry was reliving one of the worst moments of his life, which considering his past in Germany, Russia and Northern Ireland plus home grown threats, including the tower block showdown with Lucas North's gun to his neck, was really something.

"She went ahead of me. I followed her into the kitchen and asked her to sit down as we had a lot to discuss. That's when she accused me of killing her and leaving her to die."

Charles knew he was treading on potentially explosive eggshells but had to ask, "I presume that was untrue."

For the first time in the recital Harry snapped, "Of course it was. I was trying to tell her that when she shot me."

Silence fell while Charles scrawled a few more notes before nerving himself to say,

"Sorry Harry but I had to clarify that. We need to back track a little. Can you remember exactly what you said to Ruth in response to her accusation?"

Harry swallowed, he hated having to dissect his personal life so impersonally but in the interests of helping Ruth he had no option. "I told her I loved her and would never have done that. I repeated it and was still yelling that when she pulled the trigger."

"And this was at point blank range?"

"Yes. I know Ruth is poor shot but at that distance even she can't miss. I know, I once witnessed her shot someone dead." Adding as an afterthought "Not my happiest memory of her."

Charles leaned back in his seat, "Thank you Harry you have confirmed a possible theory."

Harry relieved to have both finished his recitation and that his soul baring had been of use sat silently waiting for Charles to expound. Instead he was asked another question.

"Have you ever heard of Neuro Linguistic programming?"

After racking his braincells for a few seconds Harry cautiously replied, "It's a form of brain training I think."

Charles nodded, "It can be used for a number of purposes, including how to alter behaviours and thought processes to gain a desired outcome. Usually for benign purposes but I think Ruth has been subjected to a very extreme and intensive version of this, combined with sedation and painkillers and other drugs to render her compliant."

Harry's expression was whatever reached beyond aghast. "So basically brain washed."

Charles nodded, "Basically yes. Also we removed this from her inner ear?" As he handed Harry a very small earpiece he explained. "The reason for the delays as she walked into your house was because she was receiving instruction through this from someone listening in via a device sewn into her coat collar."

Harry was processing this news before summing up, "So for eighteen months she's been drugged, fed lies on a loop and mentally destroyed." He was resisting putting his head in his hands or running his fingers through what was left of his hair.

Charles took pity on the man in front of him as he smiled, "Yes to the first two but that was why I wanted you to return mentally to the scene. Insisting you loved her almost certainly saved your life. I think at that moment a smidgeon of the true Ruth broke through, not enough to stop her shooting but just enough to make her aim veer."

After a pause he added, "And Harry if my theory is correct she has an outside chance of recovery."

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