Blood For Blood Part IV

[Silktie]

PART IV

Saturday 20 November, Morning
Belfast

The plane breaks through the cloud cover, giving Ruth her first glimpse of Belfast. Although she knows, rationally, that Belfast is in no way a war zone, she almost expects the city to be scarred and riddled with dilapidated buildings, but instead it seems well maintained and bustling in the grey November weather. She shakes her head at herself, knowing that her expectations have been greatly influenced by Harry’s previous experiences, the threat they are facing from the Republican splinter groups, and of course the growing emotional tension she is feeling.

The previous night, Harry had stayed over to allow them some quality time together before the operation starts. They both accept that they will not be sleeping together during their time in Belfast, as not only will it be unprofessional; it will be almost impossible to do so without Tariq noticing due to the electronic surveillance equipment he has installed. It also goes against both Ruth and Harry’s desire to keep their private lives private. So, they wanted a last bit of intimacy before facing almost a week with only professional interaction. Instead, it proved to be an uncomfortable evening. Both of them were on edge, and Ruth tried to compensate by being just a little too cheerful. She could tell that Harry noticed, just as she noticed how he was beginning to close himself off emotionally. Neither of them had the courage to confront the matter head-on, and they went to bed with the elephant still very much in the room.

Ruth was woken in the early morning hours by Harry becoming restless, and almost squeezing the breath from her as he clutched her closely against him. She knew immediately that he was having another of his nightmares, and would put good money on it being about the death of his friend. It took some effort to wriggle free of his embrace, so that she could turn around and gently wake him, holding him and murmuring soothing words in his ear. After he’d finally calmed down, Harry had lifted his head from her neck and looked at her with such anguish that she felt her heart break a little for him. They had made love, both feeling a desperate need to get as close to each other as possible. Afterwards, as they lay in each other’s arms, she was absolutely terrified that it would be the last time they would be together like that.

And now here they are at last. As they step from the plane, the wind lashes a cold rain at them, and they hurry to the cars waiting for them. Harry and Ruth are directed to the car that holds MI5’s Head of Station in Belfast, Ronald Perkins, with Lucas and Beth joining his deputy in the other car. As they drive to the hotel, Perkins prattles on about what an honour it is, and how Harry is still a legend around these parts. Ruth looks at Harry out of the corner of her eye, but ‘the legend’ is staring out of the window with a distant expression on his face, his shoulders rigid. It seems that he is not listening to a word that is being said, until he suddenly interrupts curtly.
“Shall we move past the buttering up, to the part where you tell me what information you have about the imminent attack on the lives of the prominent British politicians that are soon to arrive on these shores?”

Perkins blanches, and it takes him a few seconds to adjust to the change in topic. Ruth can’t help but feel a little sorry for him. He has obviously chosen exactly the wrong approach to Harry Pearce in his current mood, and Ruth suspects he will be paying for it for the duration of the operation.
“Er, right. Well, we’ve tapped up all available Republican sources, but so far we haven’t picked up as much as a peep.”
“Really.” Harry’s focus is fully on the hapless Perkins now, and Ruth can tell from his expression that he is about to move into scathingly sarcastic mode.
“And what do you deduce from that fact?”
Perkins moves nervously in his seat. “Erm, I think there’s probably not going to be an attack after all…”
“Do you.”
“Well yes. The Republicans’ security is notoriously weak – it’s improbable that news of such a big operation will not leak out.” Foolishly, Perkins seems to have gained some confidence, and is now trying to impress Harry with his analysis. However, the great man remains distinctly unimpressed.
“Hmm. How many Republican sources are you running at the moment?”

The Head of Station pales slightly.
“It’s difficult to say precisely… we have a lot of occasional contacts on the b…”
“Actually it’s not difficult at all. Three. That’s how many miserly sources you have. You can count to three, can’t you?”
Perkins swallows, but before he can say anything, Harry steamrollers on.
“So, you asked a whole three sources whether they knew anything, all of whom are probably part of Sinn Fein and therefore nowhere near any of the Republican splinter groups – you have heard that there are a number of splinter groups, haven’t you – and then deduced that my best analyst doesn’t know what she’s talking about. I’d be a little insulted if I were her…”
“Harry…” Ruth tries to intervene, but Harry ignores her.
“Aren’t you insulted, Ruth?”
“Harry!” She glares at him. “This isn’t helping.”
“No, you’re right. Mr. Perkins isn’t helping.” He turns back to the Head of Station.
“I want you and your incompetence nowhere near this operation. You will provide us with equipment as and when we ask for it, but otherwise you will stay as far away as possible. Understood?”

The man nods miserably, and is saved from having to reply as they pull up in front of the hotel. Harry is out of the car before it has properly come to a halt, marching off towards the lobby. Ruth smiles apologetically at Perkins, whilst silently cursing Harry for making her life a lot more difficult, as it is she who will have to deal with Perkins when they need anything from the local officers.

She catches up with Harry at the check-in counter as Lucas and Beth come through the doors, and dumps her shoulder bag with a thud.
“That was mature!” Annoyance radiates from her. Lucas and Beth share a glance.
“What?” Harry doesn’t look at Ruth, but bangs on the little counter bell again impatiently. Ruth yanks at his sleeve to turn him towards her.
“We have to work with him, Harry! We’re going to need the support of the local officers, and you’ve just made my job a whole lot harder by being incredibly rude and patronising. Do you have any idea how much I’ll have to sweet-talk him to get him on side again?!”
“Well, that’s your job, isn’t it?” Harry turns away again, and Ruth loses it.
“No it damn well isn’t! I’m an analyst, not your bloody secretary! Yet I always seem to end up with the unpleasant task of cleaning up the messes you leave in your wake.”
Clearly surprised at the vehemence of her response, Harry tries to back-pedal.
“Ruth…”
But Ruth grabs her key, collects her bag and stomps off, calling over her shoulder towards Beth: “I’ll be in the Operations Centre in half an hour.”
Harry is left standing at the counter, looking slightly chastised and a little lost, staring after her departing figure.

* * *

Same day, Evening
Belfast, Culloden Estate Hotel

Beth walks along the corridor towards their Operations Centre, enjoying the rare moment of quiet. It has been a busy day. Ever since their arrival, she and Ruth have been setting up the Operations Centre, double checking that the surveillance equipment installed earlier by Tariq was operational and fed into their computers correctly. She has also been preparing for her role as hotel liaison to the Sinn Fein delegation, making sure she knows the ins and outs of the hotel layout, management and services. Better to be meticulously prepared and not give Harry any reason to bite her head off, as she’s noticed that he seems unusually on edge. But no matter how busy she’s been, she knows poor Ruth has done even more.

She has been constantly on the phone, either to Tariq or Dimitri back in London, or to the local MI5 contingent or the SPNI, coordinating all avenues of information in her usual efficient way. And of course, in between Harry and Lucas have been in and out, also making demands. Beth shakes her head; she is truly in awe of the other woman. She has never encountered anyone with the same ability to connect seemingly obscure pieces of information to form a coherent intelligence picture, and to top it all, her organisational skills are also proving to be unrivalled. No wonder Harry values her so highly.

This brings her thoughts to the subject of Harry and Ruth, and the nature of their relationship. Beth has heard all the rumours doing the rounds about what is going on between them. The gossips in Thames House have been all too eager to inform her about the whole Cotterdam affair, and how the Head of Section D had been prepared to go to jail to save his Senior Analyst, but that she apparently sacrificed her career and her life in London instead to save him in the end. No-one knows what truly happened, though, and sadly none of the Section D personnel from that time is still around to pump for information.

Beth has tried not to think too much about the high turnover and what it means for her life expectancy. Instead, she has been watching Harry and Ruth carefully over the last month, and she thinks they may be dating, but she has no proof. It is more of a woman’s intuition, based on the very subtle nuances in their interaction. Harry seems, to her eye, to be ever so slightly more gentle and courteous with Ruth than he is with anyone else, and Ruth… Well, Ruth seems to be just a tad more concerned about Harry’s welfare than a mere employee would be about her boss.

She thinks back to their little spat that morning. There are very few people who can talk to Harry Pearce like that and live to tell the tale. In fact, there had been no reaction from Harry whatsoever; when they’d gathered in the Operations Centre a little later, Beth had subtly watched them. When Ruth had entered, Harry had looked at her slightly anxiously, without saying anything. Ruth, in turn, had merely given him a small smile, and after that they had interacted as per normal. For the rest of the day Harry has been a perfect gentleman, saying ‘please’ and ‘thank you’ every time he asked Ruth to do something. Ruth has been a little subdued all day, but as Beth watches her from the doorway, she seems to have gotten over it and appears her normal friendly self again.

Unbeknownst to Beth, Ruth is pondering the events of the day as well. She realised as soon as she had calmed down a bit that her reaction towards Harry had been a result of her fears about the impact this operation would have on them, rather than about what had happened in the car. She knows he is right in his evaluation of the local Station Head – the man really is rather useless. MI5 is, unfortunately, now paying for the fact that it has used Northern Ireland as a dumping ground in the last few years for any officers that couldn’t hack it anywhere else, or who have messed up and need to be punished. So she gave Harry a little reassuring smile when she saw him again, to let him know that they are okay.

Despite that, though, he has been walking on egg shells around her all day, and when she got back to her room a little earlier, she found a single dark red rose and a short note on her pillow. She recognised the rose as being from a large arrangement in the hotel lobby, and finds the thought of Harry staking out the lobby for the right opportunity to pilfer the flower rather endearing. The note, written in his scrawl that she knows so well, merely says: “You’re everything to me.” She is deeply touched by his gesture.

“Ruth?”
She is brought out of her reverie by Beth’s voice. “Are you hungry?”
“Starving!”
“Since the boys are out meeting with… someone, why don’t we have a girls’ night and have dinner in the very opulent dining room?” Beth grins at her. “We can debate which of our male colleagues have the cutest bum, among other things.”
Ruth laughs. “Great idea. Come on then.”
As they pass through the lobby, Beth notices Ruth pay particular attention to a large arrangement of roses that doesn’t look quite right.

* * *

Same day, Evening
Outskirts of Belfast

Harry turns the car into the cul de sac, and immediately pulls into the kerb, killing the lights. The only sound is the rain drumming on the roof, and his own and Lucas’ breathing. They both stare down the road, although very little can be seen through the rain. The streetlights illuminate the road, but do not throw much light on the houses either side. There’s a rustle of paper from Harry’s left, before a small flashlight clicks on.
“It’s the last house on the right.” Lucas peers at the surveillance photos in the small shaft of light. “Open approach to the front door, so at least no-one can lurk in the bushes.” He clicks off the flashlight. “On the other hand, anyone lying in wait in the house will see us coming for miles.”

Harry’s gloved hands tighten around the wheel, the leather creaking softly in the silence. After having driven around the city for two hours, making sure that they were not being followed, they are finally here, looking at the rendezvous address provided by Steak Knife. The thought that he is about to see the man again that dragged his friend out of that pub, fills Harry with revulsion and nervous excitement in equal measure.

Lucas turns his head to look at Harry. He can barely make out the older man’s profile in the darkness. They haven’t spoken much since picking up the car from one of the local officers. Harry had driven to one of the nearby parks, told Lucas to wait in the car, and disappeared into the rain. About fifteen minutes later he’d been back, and tossed a newspaper into Lucas’ lap. Inside were the surveillance photos of their destination, as well as a log of comings and goings at the house over the last two days, and records of phone calls made to and from the premises. Lucas’ enquiries as to the source of the information was ignored, and he’d let it go, focussing instead on studying the information while Harry drove around the city.

“What do you think?” Even though Harry keeps his voice low, it sounds loud in the silence of the car. Lucas takes a deep breath, and thinks again about the information provided by the surveillance records.
“The house belongs to Steak Knife’s mother. Over the last two days, only the old lady and her son were seen entering it. No unusual phone calls in or out.” He pauses, and glances at Harry.
“I guess the question is whether Steak Knife has reason to hate you enough to set a trap for you.”
Harry’s eyes stay on the house as he answers. “No more than usual in this job.” There is nothing in his voice or his demeanour to indicate whether he is lying.

Lucas looks at his boss again. He’s done some reading up on developments in Northern Ireland during Harry’s time there, trying to figure out what Harry’s angle could be. It is certainly impressive how much Harry’s team had achieved in a short time – the agent network they had built up remains unparalleled in MI5’s history in the territory. In fact they were so successful that the PIRA began to target MI5 officers for the first time in the conflict, leading to the death of one of Harry’s officers, and Harry’s redeployment on safety grounds. Harry himself had earlier been captured and tortured, and then forced to watch as the PIRA Nutting Squad lined up men suspected of being his agents and brutally torturing them in front of him. Many of those being tortured were in fact innocent, and it was during this ordeal that Harry managed to recruit Steak Knife. It was a formidable and instinctive achievement for an officer on his first assignment, especially one who was only twenty-four at the time.

At first Lucas had thought that Harry may be seeking revenge on those in the PIRA that had tortured him, but the experienced spook seems to take any activity targeted at himself with unusual equanimity. No, it is only when one of his people are targeted that he seems to deem retributive action necessary. It is this realisation that makes the penny drop for Lucas.
“Steak Knife may not have reason to kill you, but you certainly have a reason to want to kill him, don’t you? I’d bet anything that he was involved in the killing of that MI5 officer in 1978 – your officer.”

There is not the slightest reaction from Harry. The silence stretches on between them, and just when Lucas gives up on getting an answer, Harry finally speaks, his voice a monotone.
“I’m not going to kill him.” The not yet is unspoken, but Lucas can hear it as clear as a bell. Harry turns to look at Lucas.
“This is the last throw of the dice, Lucas. We need information, or this operation will go very badly for all of us.” He looks towards the house again.
“Any repugnance I may feel towards him will have to be buried, for the good of the operation.” There is a tinge of bitterness in his voice. “So, I ask again – what do you think?”
Lucas traces the path to the front door with his eyes one more time. “I think we’ll have to take the direct approach.”
Harry smiles for the first time that night. “Let’s go and knock on the front door, shall we?”
They both get out of the car and begin to advance on the house.

* * *

Same Day, Evening
Hotel Dining Room

“Harry,” Beth decides.
“Harry?” Ruth is incredulous. “You think Harry has the cutest bum of all our male colleagues?!”
They have had a good meal, and are sharing a bottle of wine. This, together with the ambience and Beth’s uncomplicated, friendly company, has made Ruth feel more relaxed than she has been since this operation started. She has missed this; she hasn’t really had a trusted female friend since Jo died. Maybe she can build the same bond with Beth, especially since she can sense the same desire from Beth’s side. They’ve agreed not to talk about work during the meal, and have finally moved onto the topic of the derrieres of their colleagues. Ruth has plumped for Lucas, but she is stunned – and a little disconcerted – at Beth’s choice.

“Wait a minute… have you even seen Harry’s bum, Beth? I mean, it’s forever being hidden by his suit jacket.” She doesn’t realise that this observation is proof that she herself has paid attention to the visibility of that part of Harry’s anatomy.
Beth waves a hand in the air. “Oh, he’s walked around the Grid in shirtsleeves a couple of times.” She eyes Ruth with a twinkle in her eye.
“Come on, you don’t find him sexy?”
Ruth takes a gulp of wine before meeting Beth’s eye. The mischief is clearly written across the other woman’s face, and Ruth finally understands what’s going on.
“You’ve heard all the gossip about us, and now you’re fishing, aren’t you?”

Beth can see that Ruth is a little hurt and annoyed, so she hurries to explain.
“No, I’m not fishing… I’m only teasing, Ruth. What does or does not go on between you and Harry is none of my business. But I’m very observant, and I think I can read people pretty well, so I’ll tell you what I think: I think you two are dating, and if I’m right, I think it’s great. You have that whole ‘meeting of minds’ thing going on.” She makes quotation marks in the air, and looks at her companion expectantly. Ruth is staring at the table, her hands fiddling compulsively with the linen napkin. She has been caught totally unawares by this line of conversation.
“Beth, I… You really find him sexy?”
Beth laughs. “Yes I do. Of course, I find all our male colleagues rather sexy, but Harry has that extra… cuddly quality.”
“Oh, God,” Ruth groans.
“Don’t worry. The man only has eyes for you. So, if you aren’t dating him yet, you should ask him out – he’s a dish.”
“Okay, please stop.” Ruth looks at her pleadingly. “Can we change the subject?”

Beth laughs merrily, but Ruth still seems a little uncomfortable, so she sobers and reaches across the table to squeeze Ruth’s hand.
“I’m sorry, Ruth. You don’t have to worry; I’m not going to tell anyone anything. I’m not a gossip, and besides…” For the first time Beth looks a little hesitant. “I’d like us to be friends, and I value trust in a friendship very highly. So no matter what you tell me, or don’t tell me, as the case may be, it stays between us.”
Ruth smiles gratefully. “I’d like that, too.”

* * *

Same Day, Evening
Outskirts of Belfast

As they near the front of the house, Lucas instinctively moves slightly in front of Harry. Although he is touched by the gesture, Harry taps Lucas on the shoulder and shakes his head at him. He points towards the street, and Lucas turns to watch their backs as Harry moves towards the door cautiously. He reaches it without incident, takes a deep breath, and knocks. After a few seconds, he can hear footsteps approaching, and keeps his eyes trained on the fisheye. The hairs on the back of his neck rises, and he knows he is being observed. Finally, after what feels like an eternity, the door opens. And after thirty two years, Harry and Steak Knife look each other in the eye.

TBC

[arctic]

Very good character development. i'm enjoying this story.

[Tea Lady]

Heavens, I feel quite stressed after reading that chapter. The poor Station Head. He got it right in the neck. Loved the rose thing though and how Harry said sorry. I hope Harry knows what he is doing here.

Keep the chapters coming.

[lwhite53]

Alright Ruth -- you tell him!! Great chapter Silktie -- the tension was ratcheted up and I love the mini-cliffhanger at the end.

[jackbristow]

This is a great fic, you have written the characters really well. Can't wait to see what Harry gets up to.

[A Cousin]

This is just great - I am SO enjoying this! It's like watching an episode with the perfect balance of character and plot.

Nice further development in the Harry/Lucas relationship with Lucas instinctively protecting Harry. Very Harry-like to understand the intention but to take front line action.

I also like the speculation re: Beth and the analysis from her POV. For some reason I am feeling a little suspicious of her right now.

Ruth giving Harry what-for in the hotel lobby. She's never been afraid of confronting him but would she have done it in such a public place prior to her exile? I doubt it.

[Lukyan Lyubof]

Great development, liking the name choice of Perkins!

[JHyde]

Great chapter (I am finally catching up). Especially liked the scene between Harry and Lucas in the car.