A Retreat of Truths, Part 2

[Ceridwyn2]

Friday Morning, 10th November

Up in the room that Harry and Zaf shared, the four of them reconvened to review their strategy for the retreat. The previous morning, they'd been e-mailed with a tentative agenda for the retreat. There was a gathering in the hotel bar at 1600h for a Meet and Greet Your Peers. Harry was sure that whoever came up with these Retreat Agenda titles had nothing better to do than annoy the people they're intended for. The rest of the evening was left up to the participants in how they wanted to spend it. No specific plans had been made at that time as they figured it might well depend on the outcome of the Meet & Greet. The attire required was set as dress casual, and most of them had decided to change out of what they had on for different clothes.

Zaf had opted for a pair of black dress pants and a forest green v-neck fitted sweater while Harry went with a navy sport jacket and pants with a white polo shirt underneath. When Ros and Ruth emerged from their room, Zaf and Harry stood leaning against the white rails overlooking the lower levels. Both straightened up as they met, each appraising the other. Ros had on a slim black long sleeve dress and high boots, while Ruth wore a similar long black skirt and a deep red silk top with a capped sleeve. The effect on Harry was what she'd hoped - a sudden intake of breath. The short low whistle from Zaf was appreciated as well, but a bonus.

Harry led them all off to the lift. "Let's go join the melee. See what we can learn."

"Try not to kill each other while we're at it, you mean?" Ros quipped with a smile.

A short ride down in the lift and they arrived at the low-lit visitors lounge that was the site of the Meet & Greet. Mingling amongst the crowd were Juliet and her attache from the JIC, four agents from MI6, and a couple from the Counter-Terrorism Command.

Juliet directed her wheelchair over to where Harry and all had congregated over by the bar. They'd all ordered their drinks. "Harry, so nice of you to come."

"Yes, well, when you've been given directives from the Home Secretary, its probably best to follow them. What do you make of this little exercise in futility?" Harry asked Juliet, as he took a sip of his single malt.

"Remains to be seen. The Home Secretary and the Joint Intelligence Committee would like the different agencies to work together more effectively to combat terrorism, both domestic and foreign as it pertains to the UK. After the public reaction to the DG's speech, there's been even more pressure to capture terrorist suspects, gather concrete evidence and make arrests."

"All very well and good in principle," Ruth commented rather indignantly, "but with limited budgets for staffing, technical equipment required for intelligence work, and extensive paperwork, there doesn't seem to be an end in sight. The field and operations staff workloads have increased nearly tenfold. And I know we're not the only ones feeling the pinch."

"I'll be sure to keep that in mind."

Ruth sighed and took a breath. She was about to speak and then stopped. What she had mind to say would probably only get her fired. So she turned and moved over to where Zaf and Ros were speaking with two of the Met's Counter-Terrorism Command officers. Juliet meanwhile kept up her verbal jaunting with Harry.

"So, Harry, have you done anything with my suggestion," Juliet said as she raised her glass and taking a drink.

Harry smirked, just enough to annoy the woman. "And which one might that be?"

"The woman you've been watching all evening. Please tell me you've at least done something."

Already growing tired of the inquisition, Harry asked, "Why this sudden interest in my love life, Juliet? Something you're not telling me?"

"Hardly," Juliet answered. "Just answer the question."

"We went out to dinner. It was very nice."

"And?" Though noting the slight smile on his face, Juliet was getting a little exasperated with Harry's responses.

"And nothing." Harry took another sip of his scotch.

"Why the hell not?" Juliet responded a little louder than she'd intended. Looking around to see if it had gone noticed, she turned back to Harry and lowered her voice slightly. "Are you blind?"

"She has her reasons. And I can see her point." He didn't quite agree with it, but he did concede that she had one.

"For heaven's sake, Harry. This is not junior high school. Don't waste time." She leaned in closer to Harry. "If you love her, make it work. Yes, it is obvious to anyone who observes the two of you that you're attracted to each other. Sod the bloody rules. If having the two of you together makes you happy, then that makes me happy."

Harry looked at her askance, not really sure what she what game she was playing at. Then he looked over at Ruth, who feeling his gaze looked up at him and smiled. He returned that smile with one of his own. Juliet just shook her head.

"Because, right now you're bloody miserable, which in turn makes my life miserable." Juliet downed the remainder of her glass of red wine.

"Ah, so now we're getting at the heart of the matter."

"Just remember what I said. Or else I'll take matters into my own hands. And you don't want that." Juliet pushed off with her chair in the direction of the senior representative from MI6, not even giving Harry a passing glance.

Another hour passed with small talk discussions and some mingling between security service agents. Gradually everyone left to head off for supper plans. As they left, Harry directed Ruth towards one end of the atrium.

Leaning closer to her, Harry asked, "Ruth, would you join me for dinner?"

"Harry," Ruth started. Then her stomach rather audibly growled. "That's probably a very good idea. I fear I've had a bit too much to drink, and not enough food today. Not a good combination. I think I want to change though."

"Do you have to?"

"Pardon?" Ruth looked closely at him, tilting her head slightly.

Harry put his hand on her shoulder. "You look very lovely this evening. If it's not too uncomfortable to wear, I would love it if you would consider leaving that outfit on a bit longer."

Ruth smiled and ducked her head, her face blushing slightly. "All right...Thank you." Raising her head, she asked, "Did you have any place in mind?"

"Actually, I was wondering if you could recommend a place."

Tilting her head slightly, she thought for a moment before responding. "Well, there is a pub my mates and I would go to called the Eagle and Child. They've got some good food and drink. Relaxed atmosphere, if a bit loud at times. University crowd and all."

"I'll just let Zaf and Ros know that we're off."

Harry took his mobile phone out of his pocket and switched it on. After relaying the message, they headed to the front lobby and asked the registration staff if they could order a taxi for them.


The ride to the restaurant was quiet, yet not uncomfortably so. The pub, being suppertime was very busy and they ended up waiting by the bar for a table. They hung up their coats and awaited being served. The bartender asked for their drinks order, so Harry ordered himself a single malt and for Ruth a glass of red wine. About half an hour later they were directed to a small table. They'd ordered their meal and then just sat back and chatted. Harry had asked her some of her favourite things she liked about going to university in Oxford, favourite places to go, things to see and do. The lively chatter about them and the cozy atmosphere served to relax Ruth more than Harry had seen her in quite some time. She smiled more and that warmed his heart more than anything.

As the evening passed, the pub had become louder and more crowded with the usual Friday night clientele. Harry and Ruth, having finished their meal settled their bill and proceeded to the exit. Harry fixed the collar on her coat as he faced her. A shy smile crossed Ruth's face. A nod of thanks and they left the pub heading out into the chill evening air. The wind from earlier in the day had ceased so while it was a little cold, it was comfortable enough. The sky had darkened to a deep purple hue and the city's night lampposts shone over the streets.

"Ruth, would you mind if we walked a little back to the hotel? It seems like such a lovely evening to waste." Harry asked. He wished to continue their conversation and enjoy their closeness.

"That sounds wonderful." They headed down St. Giles Street towards Broad. As they walked, Harry gently pulled Ruth closer to his side and wrapped an arm across her back. Ruth's head briefly rested her head against his shoulder and caught a hint of his cologne as she breathed in. It was a smell that always seemed to comfort her. After some time,

Ruth's curiosity got the better of her.

"Not that I'm complaining, Harry, because I'm not. I really like being here and I'm damned good at what I do. But how..." Ruth tried to articulate her thoughts but they weren't coming as clear as she'd hoped. She lowered her head briefly, then raised it with a mixture of curiosity and anxiety. "What happened? Why am I still here, still at MI5?"

They quietly came to a stop and Harry turned to face her. He gently laid a hand on her shoulder and with a calm smile he spoke. "Relax, Ruth."

"I just wish I could make sense of it. One moment I was crouched down along the river front by the barges with Zaf in the early morning hours, the next thing I know I'm being herded into a black unmarked car and taken to a safe house and told to wait there for further instructions. For three days, Harry, I had to wait, not knowing what was going on. I can't remember the last time I was so scared. Then Adam came and picked me up and brought me back to Thames House." Ruth was aware that Harry knew much of this information already, but she needed to vent. She'd heard the official story, the resignations of the Defense Secretary as well as JIC Chairman Oliver Mace, but she knew there was more to the issue than that.

"I am sorry that I hadn't told you this before. You deserved the truth then."

"That's fine, Harry." Ruth looked up at the guilt that seemed so prevalent in his brown eyes. She understood him more than most that the guilt itself would eat away at him. She reached up and placed a gloved hand on the side of his face.

"While you were waiting out with Zaf, after I was released from police custody, Adam gave me the microfiche and the supporting documents and satellite photo surveillance. I called in a few markers within the JIC, those who disagreed with the special interrogation measures that Mace and his associates used. Special Branch had been told to release the false report on Cotterdam to implicate Maudsley. Following the fallout of resignations, I was able to clear you of charges of murder and conspiracy to treason. We had to wait out the decisions by the PM before we could bring you back into the service safely."

"Harry, if Mace can use me to get to you, don't you think others will try as well?"

"Not if they know what's good for them."

"Now who's being naive?" Ruth smiled at him, returning a familiar exchange between them.

"I'm serious, Ruth. I know we're still navigating the beginnings of this relationship, but I've already nearly lost you once." Harry looked at her face, the light from the lamp post shone over her face, making the grey irises of her eyes almost invisible. She smiled at him and he continued. "I don't know what I'd do if you had left for good. Look, there are things I should have told you years ago."

Ruth moved her hand from his cheek to cover his lips. "Shhh, Harry. It's okay. I'm here. I'm not going anywhere." She understood what he was trying to tell her. It also confirmed something for her that her own feelings were reciprocated. Ruth removed her gloves and placed her hand back on his face before reaching herself up and towards him, bringing their lips together in a tentative kiss at first. That first kiss became two then three, before she broke it and leaned into his arms in an enveloping hug. After several minutes they separated themselves from the hug, but maintained contact through their linked arms. They'd picked up their pace to a brisk yet comfortable walk back to the hotel.

***

In the hotel room that she shared with Ruth, Ros leaned back in one of the plush lounge chairs and tucked her long legs up underneath her. On the desk next to her was her laptop with the web browser opened to the Sky News on-line news service. A small folded stack of papers were nestled in between Ros and the arm of the chair. She'd been writing notes on a legal pad which lay on her lap. The BBC 24 news service was running a continuous replay of the days lead stories on the wide-screen flat-panel television on the wall.

"...in the news today, British National Party leader Nick Griffin and party activist Mark Collett have been cleared of inciting racial hatred after a retrial at Leeds Crown Court...Chancellor Gordon Brown has told the BBC race laws may have to be revised in light of the acquittal....An internal investigation into the abuse of prisoners at Wormwood Scrubs prison from 1995 to 2000 has just been made public. They were suppressed for years by the Home office... In other news, MI5 knows of 30 terror plots threatening the UK and is keeping 1,600 individuals under surveillance, the security service's head has said. Dame Eliza Manningham-Buller warned the threat was "serious" and "growing". She said future attacks could be chemical or nuclear and that many of the plots were linked to al-Qaeda. Prime Minister Tony Blair said the terrorist threat was "very real" and spoke of "poisonous propaganda" warping the minds of young people...."

While the news continued to play, Ros gathered her sleepwear from her suitcase and headed into the bathroom for a nice bath. She'd turned the water stream on as hot as she could stand it. As she waited for the deep claw-footed tub to fill, she undressed, folding her clothes and placing them on the narrow table. After a few minutes the water level was to a point where she could get in and start to soak as it continued to fill. She allowed her thoughts to wander as the heat seeped through her muscles, relaxing them.

Ros was generally secure in her abilities for work, yet most days she still felt as though she had to prove herself to the team at Section D. She'd felt that she was right in following Ruth at the time when she'd gone to Maudsley's place. She'd informed the JIC and Harry on Ruth's suspicious activities, as she'd not been privy to the circumstances in which Maudsley had dropped information to Ruth. Unfortunately reporting on Ruth had resulted in some serious trust issues with regards to Ros's continued presence on the Grid. She'd realised her error nearly too late.

Whilst Ruth was being monitored by the police services, Ros showed up at Ruth's place unannounced and undetected. Though she had stated that she didn't apologise, Ros had effectively done so by volunteering to act as a decoy so Ruth could slip out to meet with Zaf and Adam. It was a small step to regaining some of the trust she'd lost. It was difficult enough coming into an established team, especially when the initial circumstances of her being recruited followed the treasonous actions of her father and his cohorts resulted in the death of one of the members of the MI5 team. Some days, Ros felt like she was swimming upstream in treacherous waters. Slowly but surely through her actions and team work, she'd been building respect amongst the team. She was more than hopeful that the Home Secretary's engineered exercise in joint intelligence information sharing would continue to build on that trust and respect.

The sounds of voices in the outer room startled Ros as she rose from her submerged position in the tub. She was briefly disoriented as she took in her surroundings. Directly above her was the rounded stonework of the old cell ceilings and the high three paned window that let in a modicum of light. The softly lit lamps left a glow around the room. She took a deep calming breath when the voices she heard to be her colleagues, Ruth and Harry. A knock rapped on the bathroom door.

"Ros, Harry and I are back from dinner. We're going over to his and Zaf's room if you care to join us when you're finished."

"I'll think about it and let you know," Ros called out. Truth be told, she really didn't feel like being much of a third wheel. However, an extended olive branch went a long way.

"All right. Just give a ring when you do. See you later." A few moments later she heard the heavy room door close. A little while later, she'd emerged from the tub, dried herself off and dressed in a comfortable pair of jeans and a shirt and pullover hoodie. It was one thing to socialise with your boss off hours, it was something completely different to show up wearing pajamas doing so. Grabbing her room key card, and pulling her hair up into a ponytail as she went, she headed out.

Throughout the late evening, they were chatting about this and that, including a debate on the DG's speech earlier that day and what if any changes would be coming down the pipeline for MI5 in general and Section D in particular. Frankly, if they were able to get further funding for more recruits, both field and intelligence officers, that were sorely needed, it would be a bonus. But the likelihood of that occurring was about as likely as Mace becoming the next PM. Ros had noticed that whether by conscious choice or unconscious design on both their parts, gradually over the course of the evening, Ruth and Harry had moved closer so that towards the end of the evening they were curled into each other. Ruth's head rested on Harry's shoulder as his arm wrapped around the back of her shoulders. Ros wondered if their outward show of affection towards each other was something they were simply becoming more comfortable with displaying in general or if she was being entrusted with this aspect of their growing relationship. At any rate, she felt honoured.

When Zaf returned a short while later, Ros quickly ushered him out of the room before he could say anything stupid.

"Whatever you're thinking, don't. Let them have some semblance of privacy. They deserve this bit of happiness. And if I catch wind of you running a book on this, it won't be Harry you have to worry about."

"I never would have taken you for a romantic, Ros."

"When properly motivated." Ros stopped, a wry grin on her face, and looked down at him. "Not on your life, Younis."

---

"Do you think...I mean --" Ruth started as she half turned and glanced up at Harry, and she sighed.

"Not if he wants to live to tell the tale."

"Harry," Ruth shot him an exasperated look.

"Not by me," he smirked at her. "Come here." He dipped his head down and kissed her gently. A soft moan of pleasure escaped Ruth's lips, which encouraged him to intensify the kiss. Several long and heated kisses more passed before both reluctantly broke apart. Their breaths coming in rushes. At times like this, Harry felt like he was still a young rebel in university, when the world seemed so much broader and and love was this vast great concept that he had much to learn about. A gentle glance and a smile at Ruth and he realised that he still had much to learn. But this time he had the wisdom and the experience to enjoy the relationship and not to take it for granted. To nurture this love and not let it die. Harry lay a small sweet kiss on Ruth's lips, before standing and reaching his hand out to her to pull her into a standing position.

"Come, we mustn't let Mr. Younis think that there won't be reprisals if this little tete-a-tete becomes part of a betting pool."

Ruth smiled. If Ros's quick actions hadn't already scared the crap out of Zaf, he was in for a rude awakening.