Requiem for the Dead Part VII

[Silktie]

PART VII

20 July 2012
London, the Grid

It was late and he knew he should have gone home some time ago. At least he wasn’t the only one still there; the light was on in Harry’s office and his boss was bent over some paperwork, the red wall behind him glowing warmly in the darkness. Rory sighed and picked up his phone.
“Ellen, how are you darling? You promised me that information about the Flannery family tree today. There’s only about three hours of the day left.”
He listened briefly to the response. “Okay, good. Yes, I’ll be here.”
The call was disconnected and he stared at the heap of files on his desk resignedly. Everything there was to be known about Ronan Flannery was contained in them. A whole life reduced to these reams of paper; birth certificate, ID papers, school reports, university results, employment records, even medical records. Once MI5 started digging through someone’s life, very little escaped their attention. So the answer as to how Flannery intended to get hold of explosives or other weapons had to be somewhere on his desk. There had to be a connection, whether personal or professional, to a company or another person with access and the ability to move the goods. One of these innocent looking documents held the key, he just hadn’t realised it yet.

Rory had been through all the files more than once. He had almost perfect recall and leaned his head back and closed his eyes, systematically running through all of it in his mind again. Young Ronan’s life had been unremarkable until the age of ten and that fateful day when his big sister was killed in the O’Mally’s bomb. After that he’d struggled at school for a few years before straightening himself out. He’d applied himself academically and finished with very good marks, which allowed him to attend university. During his time there he was active in the students’ peace movement and vocally anti-IRA. He’d studied Classics and whilst he didn’t end top of his class or anything, his results were nothing to be ashamed of. After university he’d gone into teaching first before moving on-

Hold on.

Rory sat up and reached for the photographs of Flannery’s room that Dimitri had taken when he was in there to plant their bugs. He shoved a few piles of paper out of the way and spread the photos across the cleared space. As he pored over them Malcolm walked in and called a greeting. The analyst didn’t even hear him or notice as he went into Harry’s office. His focus on the photos was total; the rest of the world around him faded into nothing. Fifteen minutes later he sat up slowly, a tingle of excitement running down his spine.
“Virgil.”
He turned to his computer and accessed the Flannery family tree he had pestered the unfortunate Ellen for, then went through the names meticulously, checking them against another list he’d already compiled. It took him half an hour to find it and when he did, he sat back, the tingle turning into a current. That had to be it.

In Harry’s office the Section Head and his old friend chatted quietly. Harry’s eyes often strayed to the only other light still burning out on the Grid and he struggled to suppress the memories its presence brought to the surface. He tried to ignore the light and the dark head bent under it, but it was a losing battle. Because of this he noticed the moment the analyst jumped up and hurried toward his office with long strides.
“I think Rory has something,” he informed Malcolm.
He’d barely finished speaking when the analyst burst in. Harry lifted an eyebrow and Rory stopped suddenly.
“Oh, sorry!” He retreated to the door and knocked, bright, expectant eyes fixed on his boss.
Harry suppressed his amusement and said gravely, “Come in.”

Rory started speaking as he moved forward. “The explosives are already at the stadium. It’s always been there.”
Harry tilted his head. “How do you know?”
“Flannery studied Classics at university, so you would expect a few of those books to be lying around his flat, wouldn’t you?” Rory responded. “But there isn’t – there’s only one. The Complete Works of Virgil.”
He handed Harry the photograph showing the book lying next to Flannery’s bed.
“Virgil... You’re thinking about his Aeneid and the Trojan Horse?”
Rory smiled, delighted that Harry had caught on so quickly. “I did some checking. Flannery has a second cousin who works for the Irish company that supplied granite blocks for the building of the Olympic stadium – as a driver. Harry, he drove the truck that transported those granite blocks down to London. I’m thinking one or two got replaced on the way down with fake ones which contain the explosives.”
Harry suddenly remembered the stadium manager kicking one of the blocks during their visit.
“Christ,” he muttered and reached for the phone.

* * *

Olympic Stadium

Calum ran the portable scanner over the last of the granite blocks and turned to Erin. “Nothing. As I said from the start, I think Rory’s pissing into the wind.”
Erin turned to the stadium manager. “Are you sure that’s all of them?”
He sighed and rubbed a hand over his eyes, still irritated that he’d been dragged out of bed for this. “Yes, I’m sure. You have checked all the blocks we used in the stadium.”
“Okay, thank you,” she said and followed Calum towards the exit.
The techie stopped suddenly and she almost walked into him. “What-“
She followed his gaze and turned to the station manager. “How about those two pieces underneath that statue?”
He looked to where she was pointing and she saw realisation spread across his face. “I’d forgotten about those,” he said sheepishly.

* * *

The Grid

Harry snatched up the phone as soon as it rang. “Yes?”
“Harry, we found it,” Erin reported. “Here’s Calum with the details.”
He heard her hand the phone off and the techie’s voice took over. “The tartan prince was right. Two of the blocks were replaced with replicas. They contain enough explosives to bring down the section of the pavilion they’re under. The Bomb Squad says it’s best to remove them as they are rather than trying to get the explosives out here. It’s most likely that we’re looking at remote detonation, so we’re jamming all signals in the area until it’s been disarmed.”
Harry breathed a sigh of relief and looked up at Rory. He nodded and smiled, his appreciation for the analyst’s deductive work evident. Rory tried his best not to look too pleased.
“Now we can pick up Flannery and his friends,” Harry said and punched in Dimitri’s number.

* * *

One hour later
Stables outside London

Dimitri was crouched behind a wall, keeping an eye on the stable block into which Flannery and the other four men had disappeared earlier. The stables housed some of the horses that would compete in the Olympics, and Fortress Inc had been assigned to secure the property. Harry had put his foot down about allowing the private security company to take charge of any of the main venues, and in the end the Mayor had to be content with letting them safeguard lesser venues and storage areas. There was a soft footfall behind Dimitri and he swung round to see the black-clad figure of the CO19 Team Leader crouched behind him.
“About time,” the spook grouched good-naturedly and the other man smiled.
“Are your guys in position?”
“Yes Sir.”
“Okay. I’ll go in and see if I can talk them out of there. We don’t want to endanger the horses unnecessarily. You monitor my comms; if it becomes clear they won’t come peacefully you come and get us.”
The man nodded his understanding and Dimitri vaulted lightly over the wall.

He walked towards the stables, banking on the fact that the men inside knew him as a fellow guard to get him in the door safely. His guard outfit came with bulletproof vest and a gun, and he loosened the weapon in the holster to ensure it would come out smoothly and quickly if needed. He brazenly walked through the front door and knew immediately that it had been a mistake. There was time to notice the array of automatic weapons spread out on the floor and the fact that there were only four men in the room, before something hit him hard behind the left ear and everything went black.

* * *

The Grid

“Harry!” Calum beckoned urgently and Harry and Malcolm made their way swiftly to his side.
The techie and Erin had returned from the Olympic Stadium in time to take charge of Dimitri’s operation, but it was clear from their tense faces that something had gone wrong.
“The CO19 Team Leader is on the line. There’s a bugger-up at the stables. Dimitri has been captured and Flannery and his men have barricaded themselves in. Apparently they’re armed to the teeth. Flannery is threatening to shoot Dimitri in the head if CO19 tries to storm the building.”
Harry closed his eyes briefly. “What are our options?”
It was Erin that answered. “We have none. We’ll have to take the building by force and trust Dimitri to look out for himself.” Erin’s voice was calm and belied the turmoil in her eyes. She was terrified for Dimitri, but tried her best to hide it.
Harry looked at her for a long time, his face soft and filled with empathy. He thought about Dimitri, so young, so enthusiastic, so promising.
“There is another option,” he said and took out his mobile.

* * *

Malcolm followed Harry into his office. “I don’t think this is the best plan you’ve ever had, Harry.”
“It’ll be fine,” Harry said without looking up.
“Will it? You’re taking a huge risk. You’re offering yourself to a man who hates you and wants nothing more than for you to be dead.”
“I appreciate your concern, but I don’t plan to die today.”
Malcolm looked unconvinced. “Are you sure about that? Perhaps, subconsciously-“
Harry’s head snapped up and Malcolm stopped talking, the anger in the other man’s eyes telling him in no uncertain terms that he had stepped over the line. They stared at each other until Harry took a deep breath and looked at his team out on the Grid.
“I know what everyone’s thinking.” His eyes went to the journal lying on his desk and he was quiet for a beat before meeting Malcolm’s gaze resolutely.
“But they’re wrong. I don’t have a death wish. For once I have an opportunity to save one of my officers and I’m going to take it. I think it has a good chance to work.”
Malcolm watched him carefully and could see the sincerity of the statement.
He nodded solemnly. “Fine. I’ll drive you.”
He turned and walked out before Harry could argue. Harry smiled slightly, warmed by Malcolm’s support. He picked up the journal and ran his hand over its leather exterior, thinking about sacrifice, before he slipped it into his coat pocket and followed Malcolm out.

tbc

[pookster]

Wow ... the tension increases ... I'm glad that they found the bomb but I'm frightened for Harry and Dimitri despite what Harry said. I'm thankful Malcolm is there though. Looking forward to the next chapter.

[SweetTea]

I think that Malcolm knows Harry a little better than Harry does himself. Not that Harry has a death wish, but I think it's more of a 'I won't think it the worst thing if I ended up dead' sort of thing.

Hopefully both he and Dimitri come through this fine.

Loved that Rory was able to see the little things and put the puzzle together. It sounds as though he is a worthy successor to Ruth's position, and I think she would approve. Hopefully that makes it easier for Harry to move forward from her death.

[Sparky]

Great chapter, you've set a fantastic scene and Harry going in to try and save the day once again - complete with journal! And while I don't think Harry has a death wish, like others have said, I don't think Malcolm was too far off the mark!

[Tea Lady]

Dimitri you idiot!

Now Sir Harry has to jump on his charger and come for you...Or am I getting confused with Equus...