False Omen Ch. 2

[JHyde]

Possible spoilers for Season 8. Please read Chapter 1 before proceeding.

Obviously, I'm only borrowing the characters that Kudos and the BBC own.

The plot does start to unfold this chapter, but I promise the next chapter will be lots of Harry and Ruth, so look forward to that.

There were days on the Grid where the monotony was overwhelming. Where it was endless paperwork, impersonal reports, data analysis and fact checking. Where hours were separated into liveable portions and officers watched the clock like students awaiting the end of a lesson.

This was not one of those days.

The Grid was a blur of movement, the frenzied to-ing and fro-ing of the field officers while Ruth and Tariq kept their heads down and tried to find out how much of a threat Essam really posed, both to his wife and to the UK at large. Ruth tried to keep her mind clear as she searched for the money trail, hoping deperately that Ros and Lucas had a plan for keeping Bushra safe.

Within a few hours, Ruth had identified not only a clear financial link between Essam and Tehreek-ul-Mujahideen, but translated various emails and text messages found by Tariq.

"He's clearly a supporter of the Tehreek-ul-Mujahideen cause," she told Ros forcefully. "It's not just the money, he regularly posts on certain extremist websites, inciting hatred against the UK. He invokes classic terminology used by extremist fighters, including the "Hand of God" catchphrase, which is meant to urge fighters to take matters into their own hands."

"And the Kashmiri connection," Tariq added, although he appeared glued to his computer screen.

Ruth didn't mind the interruption, not when Tariq was so invested in Kashmiri politics. It would be like admonishing Harry for getting worked up over Northern Ireland.

"They do have substantial support in the Kashmir Valley, it's true. One of their main aims is to 'Islamisize' Kashmir."

"And the money trail is there? No doubt about it?" asked Ros, flicking quickly through the file in her hand.

"Absolutely none," Ruth replied with no hesitation. "It's a credible threat. Some of the emails and posts talk about multiple targets in London. In the near future. It took me most of today but it's there."

Ros looked pointedly at the new techie and inquired of Tariq: "What about the other man? Did any of those texts or emails lead us to the man behind the curtain?"

" 'Fraid not," the newest recruit replied, still not dragging his eyes away from the screen. "Maybe soon, but he's not getting hits on any of the databases we have access to so far."

Ruth couldn't wait any longer. "So Bushra? When do you lift her?"

"In the morning," Ros replied, finally making eye contact with the analyst.

"Why not now?" cried Ruth, struggling to keep her voice level. "What if he makes his move sooner rather than later?"

"Chill, Ruth - she's being watched."

Lucas swept over to her desk with his customary insousciant charm and managed a small smile for a woman he so liked and admired. Seeing Ruth distressed was troubling enough; it reminded him too vividly of that day not so many months ago when he'd burst into a locked room as a knife was about to be sliced across her throat. "Essam's not likely to make a move at least until she's left her mother's and possibly not until she checks in with her once she gets home. He will not want people asking questions and looking for her, at all costs."

Ruth drew a deep breath, realising the implication of this.

"Which means if Essam is involved, either as a backer or as a fighter, an attack is imminent, confirming what I already found", she said slowly. "But I still don't understand where Bushra fits in. There is nothing, NOTHING, I can find in her profile that could suggest why she might be a target for her husband or anyone else. I had to show her how to vote when she turned 18, there's no way she has ideology behind her. She doesn't have that streak of fanaticism required, I assure you."

There was a pause, broken only by the rhythmic whirring of Tariq's software program as it scanned each new entry across the voiceprint.

"It's possible....she saw something," Lucas finally said. "Something or someone she wasn't meant to see. She's evidence that can trace someone back to an attack, and now they need to dispose of her."

"I'd better see Harry," Ros muttered, swiftly heading for Harry's office. he'd barely returned from the JIC meeting which he had reluctantly attended. "Stuffed suits, the lot of them," he had mumbled as he made his way back in, huffing and puffing, after blowing them all down over the latest legal whitewash.

As soon as Ros was out of earshot, Ruth addressed the other field officer:

"Lucas, I need to be there tomorrow. When you pick her up. Or at least help you debrief her. My personal connection can help here. She'll trust me."

Lucas didn't have it in him to reject her plea, not when her eyes implored him that this wasn't just anyone they were dragging in.

"Allright," he agreed. "We're bringing her back here for debriefing, we'll make sure you're here to help."

"Thank you, Lucas." Ruth smiled in such a way that the field officer couldn't help but smile back. He still wasn't clear exactly what the personal connection between Harry and Ruth was, but at moments like these he could understand her appeal. She had a gentleness that called to Lucas, and that was rarely encountered in the Service, even amongst desk officers. "I'll sort it out with Ros", he added, hurrying away before she talked him into anything more serious.

Ruth bent her head, looking through Essam's file once again, for colleagues, creditors - anyone who might be the man on the end of the phone. She slowly started her list, which seemed to grow longer just by looking at it. It was too obvious, she thought, that Essam's man on the T-ul-M inside would be someone with clear links; it had to be something more subtle. How could they possibly have met?

At some point, very late in the afternoon, Ruth roused herself. She was hungry, and apart from a hastily eaten apple mid morning she had eaten nothing since very early. After checking with Tariq that there was nothing too urgent requiring her attention, she grabbed her sandwich and headed upstairs for the roof.

She tried to take her time but the anxiety was overwhelming so she rushed her food in a way she never would have done with her work. Crumpling the greaseproof paper in her hand, she walked slowly over to the ledge and peered over. She tried desperately to occupy her mind beyond the immediate problem, but that brought its own difficulties. This was Jo's place for a stolen cigarette. Tom's old haunt for talking things out with members of the team. And Harry...not so very long ago she and Harry had shared one of their moments right here. Who else did Harry meet up here? she wondered. Come to think of it, why on Earth didn't they bug the roof? Surely that would get them everything in the Section they would ever need to know!

The smile faded quickly, and was replaced with her quiet grief. The wind curled her hair across her face and she revelled in the brief moment of being alone before returning to the madness downstairs, trying to calm herself while she adjusted her game face.

"Ruth."

She jumped visibly.

"Harry!"

He apologized quickly and extended a cup of tea, the steam still clearly rising from it.

"You'd been up here a little while, I thought you might like one."

"And you wanted to know about Bushra Essam."

Harry had the grace to look mildly ashamed.

"Well yes, but I didn't need to bring tea for that, did I?"