TPASD 39
"Agent Hatley, welcome back to the United Kingdom." Catherine smiled, as Gavin shook her hand. He had always been kind and gentlemanly with her. He was a trusted and loyal PPO of her late husband for many years. Up until the very end.
Arthur's death had been the final nail in the coffin with his job as a PPO and he wished to further his skills. Catherine had been reluctant to let him go, but too shrouded in her grief to register what was happening in the world around her.
"Thank you, Your Majesty." He bowed, as per protocol. The thing about having previously worked for the crown was that the customs never truly left. They were ingrained like a reflex. "Congratulations on becoming the reigning monarch, and condolences to you and your family on your mother's passing."
"Thank you, Hatley." Catherine smiled her public grin at him, before dropping her voice. "She is of no great loss. You know what she was truly like behind closed doors."
"It is the polite thing to say, Ma'am." Hatley replied, keeping half a step behind her as per custom dictates.
"I have asked you here to discuss the situation with Mr. Claremont-Diaz's abuser, and what we can do." Catherine explained. "I understand that nothing can be done from a political standpoint. I understand that as a whole the CIA and MI6 are working with the FBI."
"Ma'am, please understand something. MI6 are still investigating, it is the CIA and FBi who are taking the facts at face value and refusing to dig deeper." Hatley explained, frustrated at the situation. "Because of diplomatic protocol, I can only dig so deep …"
"Unless you are given immunity, or a direct order." Catherine smirked at him. "Something that can not come from the heir to the throne, or the spare, but from only from someone who is the reigning monarch herself and would need to be carried out under the veil of absolute certainty."
"I see." Hatley was cautious. He did not know if Catherine was merely testing him or not. He had taken assignments like this before. After he left the employ of the Crown and joined MI5, before being promoted to MI6.
"If he is in the States, that is going to complicate matters." Hatley stated. "Hypothetically, we would need to lure him here or to a country where there is not an extradition treaty with either the US or the UK."
"There is a third option available to you, Agent Hatley." Catherine murmured as they turned into a small alcove and into a meeting room. At the push of a button the bookcase on the far wall opened and showed a hidden room.
The room looked to be a bunker of some kind. But it was full of personal touches. There were books and sofas, comfortable sofas. A far cry from the provincial settees of the palace. These looked like they belonged in the living room of everyday homes. They were worn and well-loved.
"We shouldn't talk further, unless we're in here." Catherine whispered, ushering Agent Hatley inside and the door promptly closing behind her. "Make yourself comfortable."
Gavin was nervous, but he followed his queen's advice and took a seat on one of the sofas. She immediately made him a cup of tea. That surprised him. The Queen of England did not call for tea. She turned around, flicked down the kettle and made the cup of tea herself. Just like she did for her husband for all of those years he had worked for Arthur Fox.
"The third option," Catherine offered, her voice low, as she took a seat opposite him. She kicked her heels off and tucked her feet underneath her legs and sipped from her own mug. "I can not legally sanction a mission for you to undertake outside the scope of your agency, if you are employed by MI5 or MI6. It all goes to the chain of command and the fact that both departments are controlled by the government and I am supposed to remain politically neutral. However, I do understand this was in part, your idea. Let's say, if you were to accept a very generous job offer from yours truly to rejoin us here, there would be a promotion and shift in the job title on the cards for you. Then such a mission could be sanctioned under the guise of security reasons."
Catherine let her words settle over Gavin Hatley. The man was always a fair, rational, level-headed man. That was a quality that both Arthur and herself had liked about the man. "I am only responsible for the simple knowledge that while I am employed by MI6, I can not undertake outside missions." Hatley murmured. "Whatever conclusions were drawn by His Royal Highness Prince Philip, and Mr Srivastava, are merely their own."
Gavin Hatley remained neutral, and staunch. For a moment, Catherine had a split-second notion of self doubt echo through her. "Well, yes of course." She smiled at him with a wink. "They are their own persons. However, does my attractive job offer spark joy for you, dear Agent Hatley?"
"I am intrigued, I will admit." Hatley replied sheepishly. "Is there not a person already on staff that could undertake a mission such as this?"
"In theory, all of them." Catherine simply stated. "However, I need someone who is already invested. I need someone who is available and I need someone who I know has my family's best interests at heart. Perhaps the most important point I will make is Mr. Hatley, I know you are looking to get out of the game entirely. Retire with your wife, daughter and son in law and the child they are expecting. This job will set you up enough to be able to do that, and if you live a modest life, never have to work again. I know that right now, while you are wrapped up with MI6 and working on the taskforce in the States with the CIA, you are legally unable to walk away. This would change that. I advise you to think about your life, and its direction."
"Margaret has spent a lot of years waiting for me to come home from one assignment or another, Ma'am." Hatley whispered.
"It takes the patience of a saint." Catherine smiled. She too remembered spending long periods of time waiting for Arthur to finish on one film set or another. It is hard. It is tiring. It is mentally taxing and there are days where you want to throw in the towel and give up. "Think it over, we will talk more in the morning."
With that, Catherine hit the button on the lamp table beside her and doors opened up. There was Rose, Catherine's equerry, waiting for him. "I shall speak with you in the morning, Ma'am. Good Day." He bowed once more, before Rose ushered Hatley out of the palace. Sighing, she took herself back to her office, surprised to find Bea waiting for her.
"How did it go?" Bea asked her mother as soon as the queen came into the room. "Do you think Hatley will take the job?"
Shaan and Henry had gone into town to meet with a realtor regarding renting a place for the three of them that suited their needs.
They could not stay at the Lake House forever. Even if Alex and Oscar were insisting it was ok.
After an extensive, signed NDA was procured by Shaan, Henry told the realtor what they needed. Something short-term, baby-safe, preferably all one level, minimum three bedrooms, full bathroom, plus tub and a basement with separate entrance or second dwelling on the premises.
Their requirements were particular, but Henry doubted that his mum, or Shaan, were willing to compromise on the security detail and he was unwilling to put Alex and Gabriella in danger too.
She promised she would be in touch, and they left. Henry and Shaan were papped together leaving the office and now everyone knew that Henry was in Texas.
Is the Prince of England's hearts' staying stateside? - The Austin Chronicle
It's me or them? - Alex Diaz Claremont-Diaz to our prince - The Daily Mail, London
Prince Henry's Love Shack! - The London Advertiser
Mr. Claremont Mr. Claremont-Diaz and the Prince - The Times, LA
Henry's Timely Texas Trip - New York Times
The headlines amused Henry, but not Alex. The racist undertones from the Daily Mail in London and the Washington Post were pissing him off. They did everything to remind Alex why he had left the US and fled to the UK.
Then came the worst one. It was accompanied with a photo insert of Gabriella, taken from June's private Instagram account. It was posted by none other than Miguel Ramos on the Washington Post's website and reposted with permission on The Sun's website in the UK.
Is Prince Henry ACD's Baby Daddy? 10 times Henry and ACD Played House.
Now with photos.
Photos of Alex and Henry in Montpelier Park, Gabriella in the stroller, face hidden by sunshade as they laughed and enjoyed a takeaway cup.
Photo of Alex and Henry leaving the Fox-Okonjo LGBTQ youth shelter in London side by side, smiling. Gabriella in the baby carrier on Alex's chest, face obscured.
Photo taken from sidewalk, looking into a takeaway shop in Kensington of Henry and Alex eating falafel, baby stroller in view.
Photo of Henry holding the car door open at Kensington Palace, as Alex climbed into the car. Henry smiling at Gabriella in Alex's arms.
Side profile photo of Henry's face, soft and gooey on tarmac in Texas, Alex and Gabriella seen in the distance.
Photo of Henry and Gabriella on the pier, Lake LBJ in background. Gabriella sleeping on Henry's chest, Alex climbing up onto the pier from water.
Photo of Henry playing with Gabriella (her face pixelated) on the carpeted floor of a non-descript floor.
Photos of Alex, Henry and Gabriella splashing in the pool. Gabriella's face hidden behind a splash of water.
Photo of Gabriella in Alex's arms, sitting between Henry's legs with Henry's arms wrapped around Alex's waist. Both men wet and shirtless, Gabriella wrapped in a fluffy towel.
Photo of Henry and Gabriella asleep in the hammock. Gabriella in Henry's arms, book resting on Henry's lap.
Henry was furious. Alex was livid.
Six of the ten of those photos were taken when they were with their trusted people. Obviously, one of their inner circle was a traitor. The question was, who was the traitor?
This particular article had stirred something in Shaan and combined with the man's imminent fatherhood status, it had raised his hackles. He was on a rampage. He was out for blood. Well, not quite. Alex was out for blood; but Shaan wasn't far behind.
After dinner, Gabriella was asleep and Zahra was reading her book in bed, the three of them left the video receiver for Gabriella's baby monitor with Zahra and headed out onto the pier to talk. They were wondering if whoever was the traitor and sold the photos to Miguel, also had listening devices.
No had been ruled out by Shaan, except for his wife, Alex and Henry, obviously. Nora and June could be ruled out because they were back in New York and could not have taken the last picture. That had only been taken the day they arrived back at the Lake House.
Alex hated to be the one who suggested it, but it had to have been someone in their security team. It all added up. They would have been the only one who could have gotten close enough every time. When Henry looked like he was ready to argue with Alex, Alex pointed out that it had to have been someone from the royal security team because of the photo of Alex and Gabriella getting into the back of Henry's car after the disastrous dinner. That was taken on the palace grounds in the car parking forecourt by the side entrance. It was not visible from the street.
"I think it's safe to rule the American security contingent out." Shaan agreed, when he admitted Alex made a good point about the layout of KP. "Amy and Cash don't seem like the sort who would sell out their protectee."
"Lachlan's been with me for a long time." Henry murmured to Shaan. Shaan sent him a nod. Daniel Lachlan had worked as a royal PPO since 1994. He was hired when Prince Philip was one. He was assigned to Catherine and Arthur's detail after being in the job for three years. When Princess Beatrice started school, he joined her school detail, but was reassigned when Henry started school to his detail. Mary had deemed it as inappropriate for Beatrice to have male PPOs at an all girls school. Lachlan was still on Henry's security detail all these years later. "I simply cannot imagine him doing this."
"I concur." Shaan agreed. Shaan knew Daniel Lachlan. Lachlan had worked for them for a long time. He was loyal to Henry. He was there the night that Henry had saved Bea's life. He had been the one to break protocol and approach Shaan, telling him he thought Prince Henry needed to see a therapist after the death of his father. "What about Madden?"
"Gormless pillock." Henry muttered.
Alex swallowed a laugh beside him. British slang always amused him.
"I'll personally check him out." Shaan swore, before the trio headed back inside.
"Ma'am," Rose interrupted Catherine's early morning cup of tea. It was very early. Her breakfast tray was not even prepared yet. That early. "You've had a telephone call. Agent Hatley called. He would like to meet with you at 0800 this morning and says it's urgent."
"Yes, I will meet him in my den." Catherine was almost certain that Agent Hatley would have some good news for her. Even if he did not, she had a few other agents on her own staff she could reach out to. Either way, in light of headlines in this morning's papers, Miguel Ramos needed to be put down. He was a bug that needed to be squished.
Philip and Beatrice both arrived at Buckingham Palace. She had forgotten that she had promised to mediate between the two siblings. Things were tense and awkward between them. Just like they had been with Philip and Henry. Philip assured her that things were better, but she was yet to discuss it with Henry. The time difference was a pain, and she admittedly, had been preoccupied in this mess with Alex.
She could have easily decided not to intervene but the hurt on Henry's face when she had spoken to him when they had first landed had spoken volumes. Adding insult to injury, when Henry had given her a brief, albeit, highly sanitized version of what Alex told him had happened, in combination with the evidence Alex had been harboring, she had felt her own motherly instincts begin to rage.
It's not like Beatrice and Philip weren't aware of what was going on, Philip probably more so, since Henry would have wanted to shield Bea from the more harsh details of what was happening.
As soon as two out of three of Catherine's children are alone with their mother, Philip asked her if Hatley had accepted the job. Replying she would find out soon seemed to satisfy Philip's curiosity.
Catherine got the ball rolling between her two feisty older children, calling for tea. "Philip, do you want to begin?" She asked, pouring tea for all of them. "Beatrice, if you expect Philip to listen to you and your concerns then you will need to show Philip the same respect."
"If it is easier, Bea, you can go first." Philip offered, holding the tray of chocolate pastries to his sister first. A peace offering of sorts.
"Perhaps I should." She murmured, as soon took a pain au chocolat for her own plate and sent her brother a nod of thanks. "First off, Do you agree that things are less tense now that gran has kicked the bucket?"
"May she rot in hell?" Philip retorted and Catherine sent him a scathing look. It was so reminiscent of the look that their grandmother would often send in Henry or Bea's direction regarding what she would often refer to as 'their lack of decorum.'
"What mother? It's true. My eyes have been opened and I cannot believe that she has used me and manipulated me so easily into being a pawn in her own game of chess." Philip defended himself. "I'll grant you a good ten to fifteen percent of my screw ups are my own, the majority of them are Gran, and no one in this family can deny that."
"Bravo, Pip." Bea cheered and for once, it didn't seem like a biting, sarcastic remark from her. "Realising that is half the battle. And yes, I have been in contact with Henry since he left for the UK. I know you have been trying there and I appreciate that. But I am the one who has borne the brunt of your outbursts at both of us for years, I am going to be harder to win over."
"I do not think that I have won Henry over yet, either." Philip reminded his sister. "What I have done to Henry, it keeps me awake at night. Bea, my own therapist has likened what Gran did to me, as a form of Stockholm syndrome. It is only now that she is dead, I realise the damage that woman has done."
"Holding Henry hostage with armed guards for example." Bea suggested with her sharp tongue and quick wit. "Boy, you're both lucky I did not know about that incident when the bitch was alive."
"I cannot apologise enough for my actions." Philip rushed out, sounding as remorseful as he was feeling. "I didn't even realise how fucked up it was, until Martha was screaming at me. Telling me to put our sons in Henry's shoes. Henry and I have talked a bit about this and it is not forgiven, and I imagine will never be forgotten. Rightfully so."
Catherine was wondering what they were referring to, but the fact they were openly communicating and not spilling blood was a win. As much as she wanted to know, some things were best left unknown.
"Between Henry, Alex and his family, my therapist and mum, I have gotten to this point." Philip confessed. He wasn't above pleading with his sister at this point. "But I have a long way to go, with everyone. Please accept my apologies and give me a chance to prove to you that I am changing. That I will be better. You are my sister, the only one I have. The only one I will ever have at this rate."
Bea quirked her eyebrows upwards at Philip's words in surprise. In her defence though, Philip was oblivious, usually the last one in tune with how Henry was feeling. To hear him acknowledge the fact that Henry wasn't interested in women was a plus. It showed her, he was capable of changing. "Well yeah, because Henry's gay."
"That and I'm fully certain he's going to marry Alex." A small chuckle escaped the Crown Prince. Beatrice was laughing too. Both siblings looked to their mother for her reaction and a small, pleased smile graced the Queen's face.
Sobering up, Bea couldn't help but stare at her brother. Where was the stuck up, homophobic prat they had seen since their father died? "I can't forgive you, Philip. Not yet." Bea confessed in a small voice. "You're my brother, and I love you. But I am also the one who has been left to clean up your mess for far too long. With Henry, Martha, James and Arthur, with mum. Your words need to mean something. You need to prove to me that you can back them up with meaning. More than simple promises because I am done, Pip. I swear it. I am done defending you and protecting you from screwing up your life. You might have promised dad on his deathbed, that you would take care of things. But you've done a piss poor job of it. Throwing me in a car and demanding me into rehab was not the answer."
"But you stayed." Philip argued. She didn't know if the smug look on her older brother's face was deliberate or subconscious, but Bea wanted to slap it right off his face. "So it must have been somewhat right."
"No." She spat out, harshly. "I left. Hitchhiked to London, got to the club. Promised my dealer anything to give me as much coke as I could. Got high as a fucking kite. I wanted to fucking die, Philip. My stockings were torn, and I was higher than I had ever been before. I had no cash and had paid for my coke with my body.
I called Henry to say goodbye because the thought of not saying goodbye to him was fucking breaking my heart. Henry somehow found me, I don't remember. He came out to me that night. He told me how he was gay, and dad was dead and how I was the only one left in his life that loved him.
I was looking at our baby brother and I didn't recognise the man standing before me. The man before me was begging me not to kill myself and coming out to me, because you and gran were pricks and mum was gone in her grief. Dad was dead and he was alone, Philip. At that moment, in the back alleyway of some club, I broke down. He was scared, just as scared as me and he had not turned to drugs.
When I was almost sober, it was morning, he took me to get food. I think it was a McDonalds drive through. He told me how he was so scared I was going to kill myself before he made it to me. That's when I promised Henry I would get sober and stay fucking sober. For drove me back to that clinic and he stayed with me until I was settled. Then he made me call him at Eton. Every. Single. Day.
Henry saved my life, Philip. Don't you get it? I would be dead like dad, if it wasn't for him? Then what would have happened to him? His depression? He would have fucking killed himself too!"
Philip felt moisture on his face. He could not believe what he had heard. He was always proud of himself that he had been the one to get Bea into rehab and force her to get sober. He had always prided himself on his achievements and now learning that it wasn't him. It was a kick in the pants. But hearing that Bea was trying to kill herself with drugs. That Henry trusted her enough to come out to him, years before he had to Philip. That it had been Henry's cries and pleas that Bea had heard. It had been Henry's begging her not to die that had broken through her drug induced haze and made her want to get help.
The realisation that what Bea had spat out in anger at him was true. What would have happened if Bea had killed herself? Where would they all be? With Henry grieving for Bea as well as their father, and his depression, Bea was right. Henry would have killed himself too. He would have been left with no siblings, his mother would never have crawled out of her grief. Martha would have eventually gotten fed up and left, long before they were married. He would still have been under their grandmother's thumb though? She would have made him marry someone of her choosing. He would have been forced to have the children anyway, but he would not have loved the woman his grandmother would have chosen. It would have been a marriage of convenience. A marriage for show to the public.
What an arsehole he had been to Henry! That was exactly what he had been helping his grandmother force down Henry's throat for all of those years. A marriage of convenience. A marriage for show to the public.
He tried to put himself in Henry's shoes and imagine instead of the perfectly curated wife, it was a husband. Now he imagined how uncomfortable Henry would have been. Not only forced into an arranged marriage with someone who he wasn't even remotely interested in or attracted to, but to someone of the wrong fucking gender too! It was degrading. It was insulting. It was suffocating!
"I'm an arsehole." Philip whispered, not bothering to wipe the hot tears from his face. He felt guilty. He felt nauseated. He was going to be sick.
Catherine thrust the wastebasket at him, just in time. Much like she had done when he was a small boy and had eaten too many sweets after Christmas dinner. He could feel a soft hand rubbing circles on his back. A smaller voice telling him to breathe. If it wasn't for the scent he might have thought it was his mother. It was not. It was his sister. Kind and caring Bea.
"I didn't tell you about that night for you to make yourself sick over." She joked. It was a weak joke, but there was some warmth and care behind it that he hadn't felt from her since before their father had passed.
"I kept picturing Henry." Philip murmured, pulling back and a footman stepping in to dispose of the wastebasket. A fresh basket was left at the prince's feet, and he was thankful. "Broken and alone in his grief. In my mind, you had followed through. Then I thought of what gran was forcing on him, what I thought was right at the time. The arranged marriage and I put myself there, in his shoes."
"Pip?" Bea hugged him. "I promise I don't think like that anymore. Henry saved me. Don't play the what if game, ok?"
"Bea!" Philip exclaimed, crying harder and hugging his sister back. "How the hell does Henry forgive me? Because I sure as hell don't!"
"Because you're his big brother." She smiled at him, pulling back. "Henry remembered something we have both forgotten. The biggest role of being the older sibling is to protect the younger ones, at all costs. That's what you were trying to do, Pip, protect him. Were your methods wrong? Yes. Was gran's guidance highly questionable, if not criminal? Yes. But your intentions were good? All you wanted to do was protect Henry from anything that could possibly hurt him."
"I need so much therapy." Philip confessed with a watery laugh.
"We all do." Bea laughed teasing her brother gently, like she would when they were small children. "You and Me, we have something in common that no one else in the world can understand, not even Henry. We know what it's like to want to love and protect Henry no matter what he does. But we get to love this new version of Henry, just like we've loved every iteration of Henry before this one."
"This iteration of Henry is my favourite one yet." Philip conspired with Bea, wiping a tear off her cheek. "Henry as a dad, Bea. The light hits him just right, and he is just like dad."
"I miss him." She sobbed and started crying. "It's only been a week, but I miss him so much, Pip."
"Well, when all this is over, I think you and I should take a trip to see him." Philip suggested, looking up to see their mother coming back into the room and silently wondering when she left. "We're pretty close to the queen, I am sure she would let us have some sibling bonding time."
"I think we could all do with a little bonding time." Catherine murmured from her reading chair, across the room. "Personally, I'd like to get to know Alex a little bit more. Perhaps spoil Gabriella a bit."
"Oh mum, Henry will love that."