Blood For Blood Part VIII

[Silktie]

WARNING: VIOLENCE

PART VIII

Monday 22 November, 15h49
Belfast

“That’s what the bomb is a diversion for; while everyone is distracted by the big bang outside one of Adams’ own delegation is going to take him out!”

Lucas stops breathing for a moment. He can finally see the whole plan hang together in all its deviousness and brutality, and instinctively knows that the agent is telling the truth.
“Hang on.” He quickly relays this information on the comms before turning back to the phone.
“Where’s Miller? I want the address now.”
There is a brief hesitation on the other side of the phone, so Lucas continues coldly.
“Or have you forgotten just how keen my friend is to remove you from this mortal coil?”
Steak Knife gives it to him. Lucas gets on the comms again.
“I’ve got Miller’s location – I’m going after him. Hold back SO19 until I’ve neutralised him.”
“Right.” Ruth immediately relays the instruction as Lucas races through the streets, paying no heed to the traffic laws.

* * *

Harry and Beth zero in on the Sinn Fein delegation, circling them, trying to identify anyone in the group acting strangely. Seeing no-one, Harry inserts himself into the group with Adams, engaging him in inane conversation, trying to act as a barrier between him and any attacker. He is slightly annoyed with himself for not seeing this angle earlier; he feels he should have guessed that the whole mess is a result of internal struggles among the Republicans, and he wonders bleakly whether his own desire for vengeance had blinded him to this.

* * *

Lucas reaches the apartment building, and unceremoniously ramps the bike up onto the pavement before jumping off and dropping it with a clatter. He runs inside, finds the stairs and races up them to the fifth floor.

Ruth checks her watch. “Five minutes to zero hour, Lucas.” She glances at the equipment monitoring for the infrared pulses; nothing yet.

Lucas reaches the door of Apartment 508. He pauses, catching his breath and mentally calculating the best way forward. Malcolm comes back on the comms.
“Building plans indicate the apartment door opens into a short corridor. The second door on your right is the sitting room, which has a view of the street where the van is parked.”
Lucas has a split-second to wonder how on earth Malcolm had succeeded in getting the plans so quickly, but stores it at the back of his mind as yet another thing he’ll have to ask him later about this operation.
“Okay, thanks Malcolm.” He expertly picks the lock, and quietly opens the door. He pulls the gun from its holster in the small of his back, and makes his way to the second door as quietly as possible. Reaching it, he positions himself against the wall, and glances in quickly before pulling back again. Closing his eyes, he visualises what he has seen in that split second. There is only one occupant in the room. A man is stationed by the window, and there is some kind of device lying on the table next to him.

“Three minutes,” Ruth’s voice says in his ear.
He knows there is no time for a more thorough inspection - he has to act now. He steps into the room, gun levelled at the man.
“Peter Miller!” As he calls out the name loudly, the man spins around, his eyes large with surprise. They stare at each other for a moment, before the other man moves quickly, lunging for the device lying on the table.
Lucas pulls the trigger, and Miller drops to the floor.
As he moves over to check on Miller, Lucas wearily wonders how many more people he’ll have to kill before the end of this operation. He is beginning to develop some sympathy for Harry’s repugnance towards anything Northern Irish.
“Lucas?” Ruth sounds anxious; she has heard the shot, and Lucas hasn’t said anything since. He speaks up.
“Miller is neutralised.”
Ruth immediately orders SO19 in to dismantle the bomb.

* * *

As Harry talks to Adams, his eyes scan the movements of the men closest to the Sinn Fein leader. He notices one of them repeatedly glance at his watch. Catching Beth’s attention, he nods imperceptibly towards the man. Beth advances on him, reaching him just as the old clock against the wall chimes four. Simultaneously, a cacophony of sirens can be heard from outside, drawing ever closer. Harry sees the man close his eyes in resignation; he has realised that their plan has failed. He wonders if the man will stand down, but instead he suddenly lunges towards Adams, something long and shiny in his hand. Beth grabs his arm as Harry unceremoniously shoulders Adams out of harm’s way, groaning in agony as his right shoulder connects and sends Adams sprawling on the floor. Two SPNI plainclothes policemen materialise out of the crowd, and help Beth to subdue the assailant.

She takes the implement out of the man’s hand, holding it up for Harry and Adams to see. It is a long needle, filled with a colourless fluid.
“Looks like he was planning to inject him with something.”
Adams, still sprawled on the floor, gawps at the implement before looking to his lieutenant.
“Why?”
“Why?! You are selling out the Republican cause! You’re a disgrace, not fit to lead this party…” The rest of the assailant’s diatribe is cut short by a well-judged jab to the ribs by one of the policemen.
“Get him out of here.” Harry, cradling his right arm in his left, turns to the rest of the people staring at the spectacle. He makes sure to look at the Home Secretary for a few seconds before speaking.
“I apologise for the disruption. Everything is under control.”

Harry turns back as Adams slowly clambers to his feet. The Sinn Fein man still seems bewildered by what just happened. He stares at Harry, who can see the pieces click into place as the man realises that Harry must be an MI5 officer. After a short hesitation, Adams nods at Harry.
“Thank you, Mr. Pearce. You saved my life.”
Harry regards the former IRA man levelly before answering.
“I was doing my job. Nothing more, nothing less.”

He walks away, leaving Adams standing there, and stops before the Home Secretary.
“My people have just thwarted a bomb attack on this conference, the aim of which was to cause a distraction to allow Adams to be killed. I know you moved the conference to Belfast on Sinn Fein’s request, who in turn was asked to do so by the Republican splinter groups. They played you, and you fell for it. Perhaps next time you should pay more heed to the advice given to you by your Security Services.”
With that, he turns and walks out of the room.

* * *

Saturday 27 November, Morning
Malcolm’s cottage, North Yorkshire Moors

Harry awakens slowly. The first thing he registers, is that it is a rather cold morning. The second thing he notices is that he is alone in the bed. Lifting his head, he peers at the dresser. He can see Ruth’s stuff spread out over it, so at least she hasn’t done a runner at the crack of dawn. With a sigh, he lays his head back down on the pillow, acknowledging that he can no longer delay the talk he knows they must have.

Although the rest of the conference passed peacefully, Harry was kept extremely busy sorting out all the problems caused by the attempted attack. As a result, he and Ruth never got a chance to talk about what had happened that Sunday evening. To be honest, Harry didn’t know what to say, and feared deep down that a discussion would force Ruth to acknowledge that she couldn’t be with a man who did things like that. Ruth never brought it up either, because… well, actually Harry isn’t sure why. But by Thursday, as they returned to London after the end of the talks, he couldn’t take the uncertainty anymore, and suggested to Ruth that they come away for the weekend to Malcolm’s cottage, in the hope that it would give them a chance to clear the air. The fact that she’d agreed went a long way to assuaging his fears that she is planning to leave him.

He gets out of bed, dresses warmly and moves through to the kitchen. An open pack of apples lies on the table, and he picks one up as he passes. Munching on the apple, he sets off on a footpath leading in the direction of the cliffs, looking for Ruth. It is quiet, peaceful; the only sound the distant sigh of the waves. He can understand why this place appeals to Malcolm. He rounds a bend, and spots her sitting on a bench overlooking the sea. Not able to help himself, he stops and watches her. She is wearing a thick jumper, the long sleeves covering her hands, protecting them from the cold. Her dark hair is moving slightly in the breeze as she stares thoughtfully out to sea, and to Harry she has never looked more beautiful. His heart skips a beat.

She turns her head to look at him as he sits down next to her, before looking back out to sea again. Harry lets the silence stretch a little longer, but when it becomes clear that Ruth has no intention of saying anything, he gathers his courage.
“Have I ruined everything?”
She looks at him, the expression on her face ever so thoughtful. Harry notices that her eyes are the same colour as the sea. Instead of answering, she asks another question.
“Why didn’t you tell me about Steak Knife?”
His gaze drops to his hands, before meeting hers again.
“…Because you are the only one who could’ve talked me out of it, and I didn’t want to end up resenting you for denying me my chance at vengeance.”
It is a brutally honest answer, and not quite what Ruth was expecting.
“Oh, Harry.” She says it very softly, and he can sense some of the tension leaving her. They sit quietly for a while, neither quite sure how to continue this difficult conversation.

“I don’t, you know,” Ruth says suddenly. He looks at her.
“I don’t think you’re a better man than you really are. I know your darker side just as well as I know your good side. I’m not blind to it. But the thing is, that’s only a small part of who you are.” She pauses, gathering her thoughts.
“You’re still the best man I know, because you choose to do this job, to accept the responsibility to make all those hard decisions, and to live with them afterwards. That takes tremendous moral courage, and that’s what defines you.”

Harry has nothing to say to that, so instead he asks: “You’re not angry about what happened in Belfast?”
Ruth considers carefully before she answers. “I am angry, but because you lied to me about something personal, not about you going after the men who killed your friend.” She sighs. “I know you. I understand the impact Bill’s death had on you, and that your own particular code of honour wouldn’t allow you to let it be. I’m just disappointed, I guess, that you weren’t able to talk to me about something that is obviously very important to you.” She hesitates slightly, before offering him an olive branch.
“You don’t have to do these things alone anymore…” Seeking out his eyes, she smiles gently at him.

Harry lets out a long breath. Once the operation had ended, he had felt incredibly grateful to get on the plane back to England, and to shake the dust of that cursed territory from his shoes for what he hopes was the last time. Even though Steak Knife is still alive, the agent had come through when they needed it most, and Harry will stick to his agreement and leave him be. He finally feels at peace with what happened in Northern Ireland thirty-two years ago. He is done with it.

Still, he doesn’t think he deserves the forgiveness Ruth has offered him; instead he feels a pressing need to explain things more clearly to her.
“I know that it was a selfish and stupid thing to do. I just…” He sighs, searching for the right words.
“Bill’s death is one of three things in this world that can make me lose all reason. I wanted to tell you so many times, but I could never find the right words… and for that I am truly sorry, Ruth. But I’m done with it, and I won’t lie to you about personal matters again.”

She searches his face, and can see the sincerity of his promise there. She nods, satisfied, before frowning a little.
“One of three things? I know anything happening to Catherine is the second, but what’s the third?”
Harry reaches up and tucks a loose strand of hair behind her ear, and lets his fingertips trail across her cheek softly. His eyes are the colour of burnished honey in the morning light, and she sees an infinite amount of love in them as he gazes at her. His voice is incredibly gentle when he answers.
“Do you really have to ask?”

She dips her head down for a moment, before looking up at him with a smile more bright than the morning sun. Reaching for his hand, she drags him upright with her.
“Come on, there’s a fireplace in the cottage. All I want to do today, is curl up next to the fire with you, and read a good book.”
Harry takes her face in his hands, and kisses her long and deep. The heat of her mouth is in stark contrast to the cold around them, and the way she kisses him back warms him more than any fire ever could.

He thinks he must be the luckiest man on the face of the earth.

FIN

[Tea Lady]

Super ending. I think, Ruth understanding and forgiving Harry is what she would do. She knows him too well by now. I guess Harry just has to get used to trusting someone else and opening up to them. Not an easy thing to do when you have been alone so long.

Wish I was cuddling up with Harry in front of a warm fire tonight. Ruth's one lucky girl as well.

Well done Silktie.

[A Cousin]

Great ending. Wonderful story. Thanks for the ride!

[lwhite53]

Wonderful ending and a terrific story, in toto. Thanks Silktie.

[Lukyan Lyubof]

Great ending, loved the entire thing

[jackbristow]

I really enjoyed this, great writing! can't wait for your next fic

[Aria]

Truly fantastic story, Silktie. It was a pleasure to read from beginning to end. The insights into Harry's past with his guilt over Bill's death and his need for vengeance were wonderful. Finally found one good thing about being away for so long- there was no anxious wait for the next chapter! I loved the H/R elements and it was good to have Malcolm back in the "action". Loved the ending.

[JHyde]

Great story Silktie. The best thing about it was how all the characters know each other so well - and so do you.

Ruth knows exactly who Harry is. Good way to end it. Nice one

(Plus, sorry it took me so long to finish reading it.)

[Ceridwyn2]

Love it! Intrigue, betrayal, hope, love.

[Jax9010]

Very interesting story. I quite like the fact that you've explored the idea of Harry going back to Northern Ireland and was able to illustrate the depth of feelings he has. Well done!