The pre-dawn air was bitingly cold, and he stamped his feet as he waited and watched. From his vantage point he could see both the front and side entrances into the imposing building, and he took careful note of the traffic going in and out. The information provided to him about the blind spots of the cctv cameras must have been accurate; otherwise he would long since have had a visit from one of the security men with firm advice to move along. He had been there for over two hours now, and the cold had seeped right into his marrow. London was in for a cold winter, if it were like this in the middle of October. The smell of the river came to him on the slight breeze, damp and salty – the tide must be coming in. Somewhere to his right Big Ben chimed the hour, and right on cue a black Lexus drew up to the front entrance and a sturdily built, blond-haired man with a receding hairline got out of the back and strode inside. It had just gone seven, and Harry Pearce was already at work. The poor bugger obviously had no life outside of this building. He would give the man half an hour to settle in before making his move. Time seemed to slow down now that the hour was almost upon him, and he wondered what fate would await him inside that building. Would it be salvation, or would it be damnation? There was so much riding on this; he could not fail.

At last it was time, and he took a few deep breaths in preparation of stepping across the street. But that was when he saw the face. He never forgot faces, and he knew this one. He knew it very well. He watched as the person hurried into the building, concern growing inside him. This was a serious complication, with the potential to derail everything. He stood rooted to the spot, weighing his options, before he withdrew back into the alley. This decision needed to be taken higher up.

- 0 –

Two hours later

As Harry walked into the meeting room, his eyes automatically sought out Ruth. Despite everything that had happened between them, the reaction was as natural as breathing to him and he was powerless to stop it. Her dark head was bowed over her papers and she did not meet his eye; perhaps similarly aware that he would seek her out upon entry. He suppressed a sigh. Things were awkward, how could they not be? There were good reasons why bosses were not encouraged to date their subordinates, but he had not heeded these. Emboldened by Juliet's encouragement, he had asked Ruth out, and now they were both paying the price. He was miserable, but more importantly he had put her in an untenable position, and that was unforgivable. She would have to endure endless speculation and rumour-mongering because of one selfish act on his part, one deluded moment in which he had thought that it would be all right simply because he loved her.

"Begin," he barks as he takes his seat, painfully aware of the conspiratorial look that passes between Jo and Zaf. They all knew the reason for his bad mood, unfortunately.
Adam roused himself from his own pit of misery, where women continually died in his arms. "Where's Ros?"
"Counter-surveillance training course in Devon," Harry responded shortly.
Adam frowned. "Surely she did that course whilst in Six," he said, the blue eyes focussed on his boss intently. He might be an emotional wreck, but he was no fool.
"We can all do with a refresher every now and then," Harry snapped, a dangerous edge creeping into his voice. "The spook who thinks he knows everything will soon be a dead spook."
Adam stared at him for a beat, before wisely moving on. "Zaf, any results from the Abdullah surveillance?"
As Zaf made his report, Harry glanced at Ruth to find her eyes firmly on him. She was no fool either. After witnessing Ros screaming accusations at him two nights ago, she knew why the newest member of the team was on that training course. It was probably cowardly of him to ship her off like that for a few weeks, but he simply did not have the emotional energy to deal with her anger over her father's long sentence. He had enough on his hands, what with Adam's fragility, the team still mourning Colin's death – Malcolm in particular - and Juliet still in hospital and possibly crippled for life. And Ruth, always Ruth. He did not need Ros in the mix as well, fomenting discord with her abrasive personality. A little distance would do everyone good, allow feelings to settle down.

"So, in short, we have nothing," Zaf concluded glumly.
"Apart from persistent rumours that an attack is imminent," Harry pointed out.
"Vague rumours," Adam countered, and Harry sensed immediately where they were going with this.
"We are not pulling the surveillance on Abdullah," he said decisively. "It is the only clue we have, however vague and tenuous, and we will follow it for all it is worth-"
"One mention of his name in an intercept is so tenuous a link as to be almost non-existent," Adam interrupted with a hint of impatience. "We don't have the resources, especially if you insist on keeping Ros on that waste of time of a course."
"Then pray tell, Adam," Harry said icily, "where you would rather direct our meagre resources? Because from where I'm sitting, there is no alternative."
Adam's eyes flashed mutinously, but before he could respond, Ruth stepped into the breach. "I've done some more digging on Abdullah."

She looked around the room, making sure she had everyone's attention, before finally settling on Harry. He gave a slight nod, so she continued. "He is often referred to as Rumha. It means 'spear', and it's a term used to describe men responsible for protecting the Islamic faith."
She was warming to her task and Harry's heart lurched. This was one of the many reasons why he had fallen for her – the way her face lit up and her eyes shone with enthusiasm when she had found a piece of the puzzle.
"Doesn't automatically make him a terrorist," Zaf pointed out, willingly providing a foil for her. "Violence isn't the only way to protect the faith."
"No, of course not. But when I tracked back through the intercepts I found another three referring to the Rumha."
She pointed the remote at the screen and the three translated messages appeared:

Rumha received goods. Everything is ready.

Go to the Rumha, he will provide all you need.

As Rumha blesses you here on earth, Allah will reward those who slays his enemies thousandfold in heaven.

They stared at the words in grim silence.
"I have been trying to get a meeting with our tame Imam since yesterday, and he finally agreed to see me this morning," Ruth continued, glancing at her watch. "I should probably get going before he changes his mind again."
Harry pursed his lips and considered. They had managed to blackmail one of the prominent Muslim clerics into cooperating with them, after the man had been caught in a flagrant position with a woman that was not his wife. But he was a reluctant asset at the best of times, and Harry wasn't sure whether the man could be trusted. Some instinct told him that the Imam was liable to turn on them one day.
"Take Zaf with you," he ordered. "Now-"
The door slid open and Harry swung round, a scowl on his face. One of the security men stood there. "Pardon me, Mr Pearce," he said hurriedly after taking in Harry's annoyed expression, "but we have a walk-in."
Harry grunted impatiently. "We get deluded people who walk in here and claim they are Russian spies every day," he said and glared at the man in the door.
The man stood his ground, uncomfortably shifting from foot to foot. "Yes sir, but this one's different."
Harry lifted an eyebrow and waited.
The security officer cleared his throat. "He's a Muslim, and claims to have information about an imminent terror attack on Britain. He also," he took a breath and steadied himself, "claims to have information about an MI5 mole providing assistance to the terrorists."

- 0 –

Harry watched on the monitor outside the Interrogation Room as a security officer asked the walk-in a few basic questions. The man readily provided his name and address, and as he talked, Harry's gaze flicked between his face, his hands and his legs. Not a twitch.
Adam slid open the door behind him and strode in. He handed Harry a folder.
"Misbah Asif," he said, his eyes settling on the monitor. "He's not been on our radar for any radical activity. But," he paused to turn and look at Harry, "he is a member of Abdullah's mosque."
Harry said nothing, merely frowned slightly. They watched the monitor in silence for a while, until Harry eventually said, "He's very calm."
"Yes," Adam said, and their eyes met. They were both thinking it – the man was too calm.
"Tell Malcolm and Ruth to pull his life apart," he instructed, handing the folder back to Adam. As he turned to leave, Asif suddenly raised his voice.
"Let's stop wasting time. A terror attack will be launched on Britain within this week, and one of your people is helping them."
The security officer remained calm. "Give us a name, then."
Asif shook his head. "I don't have a name, but she used to work for GCHQ before transferring to MI5 a few years ago."
Harry froze and turned back slowly. He glanced at Adam, and saw the same concern in his face.
In the Interrogation Room, Asif continued, "She is small, with dark brown hair."

- 0 –

Ruth shifted in her seat as Zaf sped confidently through the London traffic. His car might be pleasing on the eye, but its sleek lines were hardly conducive to a comfortable journey. Only half her mind was on the anecdote he was telling as they wove precariously between the other vehicles. She was beginning to understand Harry's pained expression whenever talk of Zaf's car came up; perhaps it wasn't only its conspicuousness which he found disagreeable. It was, of course, the man in question that occupied most of her thoughts. Poor Harry, who must be rather confused at the moment. She would catch him watching her from his office sometimes, a thoughtful little frown etched between those lovely eyes, as though he was trying to solve an intricate puzzle. Maybe that was what she was to him; a puzzle to be solved. Why else would a man like him be interested in her, in that way? But even as the thought formed in her head, she knew it was unfair. After three years of working closely with him, she understood enough about his dedication to the job to know that he would not risk losing a valuable member of his team, which she undoubtedly was, for a quick conquest. He was serious about her; had shown a surprising amount of vulnerability and emotional openness towards her during their dinner a few weeks ago. And if she were honest, that scared her. What would happen when he found out there really wasn't much more to her than he already knew, that she wasn't all that interesting or adventurous in the bedroom? She was by no means a prude or inexperienced, but it had been a while and her confidence wasn't all that high.

She sighed, and Zaf stopped talking and glanced at her.
"Am I boring you?" he asked with a cheeky smile, and she couldn't help but smile back.
"No, sorry. Just trying to find a way out of the maze," she said; he didn't need to know that it was a whole different maze from the Abdullah problem that she was contemplating.
"Ruth Ruth Ruth," Zaf tutted and shook his head. "Always on the job. You need to learn to have some fun, take some time off. You're as bad as Harry."
Her head whipped towards him, and she could feel the warmth creeping up her neck. What was he implying? But he appeared oblivious to her reaction, and she realised it was an innocent remark. It wasn't a veiled reference to their one date. She looked away, staring out the window and cursing herself for her sensitivity. Was she overreacting? She didn't know anymore.
"We're here," Zaf announced, and swung the car into a parking space a few metres away from the Imam's front door.

The man opened the door and stepped outside just as they approached, and Ruth suspected he did not want them in his house. She could understand that; they were, after all, blackmailing him to betray his community. He stood on the step, a forbidding expression on his face, and watched them approach.
"Doesn't seem happy to see us," Zaf murmured, glancing up and down the street.
Ruth plastered a smile on her face. "Good morning, Imam," she greeted, searching his face for any flicker of cordiality. She found none. "Thank you for seeing us," she added, but the Imam pursed his lips and folded his arms.
"I've changed my mind," he said tersely. "I no longer wish to help you. Please leave."
Ruth and Zaf glanced at each other.
"Need I remind you of the incriminating photographs in our possession?" Zaf inquired pleasantly, though there was a hint of steel in his voice.
The Imam's eyes flashed and he glared at the young spook. A cat wandered out of the house behind the Imam's legs, and Ruth crouched down to scratch it and leave the two men to square up to each other. At that precise moment a bang echoed loudly through the empty street, and at first she thought it was only a car backfiring, but then everything erupted into chaos.

tbc