26th September 1991, 7 pm
140 Gower Street
"Good work, everyone," Coolidge says loudly, surveying the team on the Grid, his eyes alight with satisfaction. "A job well done." He drops his gaze to Malcolm, reaching out his hand. "Excellent work, Jones," he says, shaking his hand.
"Thank you, Sir."
"You too, Ruth," he adds, turning to her and offering her a bright smile.
"Thank you, Sir," she replies, her body still buzzing with the adrenaline, voice a lot steadier than she feels.
He moves away, congratulating each one of the people on the Grid on a job well done. They've managed to get them all.
"Is it always like this?" she asks Malcolm as she leans back in her seat, feeling suddenly exhausted. It still takes her by surprise – how quickly the adrenaline surge dissipates and she suddenly feels utterly drained.
He gives her a sympathetic smile. "Pretty much. You get used to it."
"Good because I don't know how much more of this I can take."
The gun shots they'd heard over the comms had nearly been too much for her – her heart in her mouth, each second lasting an eternity until Harry's sure voice had echoed down the line to them, "All clear. Building secure. Call an ambulance, Malcolm. One of the bastards' got shot. No casualties on our end."
"Call names, Alpha One," Malcolm had muttered as he'd picked up the phone to call the emergency services, making Harry chuckle.
"Right you are, Red Dragon," he'd responded, causing Ruth to smile in spite of herself.
"Stop taking the piss, Alpha One," Coolidge had growled, leaning over her to speak into the microphone. "Wrap this up and get back to base."
"Yes, Sir!" he'd replied in a voice that could have been sincere, but equally could still have been taking the piss.
"If you can't cope with this, love," Connie's cool voice sounds on her other side, "you'll not be here long. It's only downhill from here."
She lifts her body and sits up straight at that, feeling suitably chastised. The field agents, Connie and Malcolm, had done the hardest work today, mounting and executing this operation and she has no right to complain. Pretty much all she's had to do is observe.
"Give her a break, Connie," Malcolm murmurs softly. "She's doing really well. As well as you yourself did back when we got started, as I recall."
Ruth feels her cheeks colour with pleasure and she lifts grateful eyes to Malcolm who gives her a quick, encouraging half-smile.
"Exactly my point," Connie replies. "No use in wasting that potential." She gets up, adding, "Well, we'll be here a while yet and I'm parched. Best get the juniors organised with the tea. Shame no G&T's on offer." And with that, she wanders off, commandeering two junior staff members to get teas and coffees for everyone.
"She means well," Malcolm says.
"Thanks, Malcolm," she replies, clearing her throat when a momentary, awkward silence settles over them. "Well, best make myself useful too."
He smiles as she gets up and turns back to his screen. "You've done more than enough already, Ruth," he says without looking at her.
She smiles and nods, feeling ridiculously pleased by his praise. They make an oddly good team of mentors, Connie and Malcolm, she realises as she walks away – one always quietly encouraging and the other relentlessly pushing for excellence – and she feels really grateful to have them both.