For just_muse_me Prompt 21-4-5 Emotional
Lucas was exhausted. Eight hours of flying, plus god knows how long actually in Moscow, along with the adrenaline rush caused by trying to avoid FSB officers all day, never mind changing time zones meant that he was tired, hungry and could really do with a stiff drink. None of which were available on the flight home. Cheap sandwiches just didn’t cut it.
He wasn’t expecting to be met at Heathrow - well, he was hoping he wouldn’t, as that would mean the FSB was aware of where he was, and he needed to make it to Thames House safely. Ros standing there, seemingly casually waiting for someone - a lover, an old friend, a family member perhaps - wasn’t what he expected, though he was somewhat relieved.
Lucas hadn’t had to wait on baggage reclaim, so the arrivals hall was relatively quiet as he walked out. He caught glimpse of Ros’ face, their eyes locking for a moment - and he took a deep breath. That look wasn’t good - it was a look he’d seen a few times in his career. He could feel himself mentally bracing himself. He knew the news wouldn’t be good, but he didn’t allow any of it to show on his face. Not yet.
“You’re late,” Ros murmured, as for appearances sake - mainly because Lucas was positive that the small man behind and to the right of them was someone he’d glimpsed in Moscow - he bent to hug her. He could feel her stiffen for a moment at the sudden contact, then relax.
“I know,” he replied. “Antique buying took longer than I thought.”
“Find anything interesting?” she asked carefully, following his lead and slipping and arm through his as they walked towards the main terminal exit.
“Very,” he replied, glancing behind using a handy mirror. The man was trailing after them at a reasonable distance. “Company. Short. Behind,” was what he murmured into her ear as they walked close together. He could sense her use the glass to pick him out, and she nodded once, changing direction with a tug on his arm. The car that was in the short term car park could be picked up later - public transport offered better cover, even if the tube journey into town was nothing short of an hour’s worth of hell.
The underground platform was not overly busy, but provided enough cover. That was the advantage of Heathrow over other airports. The pair of them carefully stood, chatting about inconsequentialities, but Lucas noticed that Ros looked as tired as he did. It must have been hell. He could only imagine.
A few tube changes at the last minute, and they finally shook their tail. Ros visibly relaxed for a moment, then looked at Lucas.
“Bad?” he asked quietly as they sat, rattling through the tunnels.
“You could say that. Does the name Maria Korachevsky mean anything?” she replied, just as softly.
Maria Korachevsky. The woman who’d gotten him the new identity in Moscow. Who’d gotten the information to help expose the mole. Helped him escape. He nodded once, slowly.
“She met with an accident earlier today. Shot by burglars, apparently.” FSB. Lucas closed his eyes briefly. He’d been impressed by the small woman, prepared to risk everything for an ideal she’d signed up to over 15 years ago.
They silently left the tube a couple of stops early, walking in silence through the crowds towards Thames House. “Harry?” Lucas asked quietly as they approached the main entrance.
“Fine now. He managed to get a message to me, revealed the truth. Grady was rough in his questions.” Ros said blandly. “Our small burrowing friend nearly escaped though. But not after...” Ros stopped, and sighed before looking carefully at Lucas as they stepped inside, the pair of them showing their ID cards.
Lucas glanced back at her, not speaking as he headed towards the lifts, trusting Ros to be beside him. He saw her face - for once, briefly showing some emotion. When they were in the lift, and the doors closed, he spoke. “Ben.” It was the only one it could be.
“She garrotted him in the paper room,” Ros said, ensuring that any emotion was gone from her face. “Best we can tell, she did it straight after you rang him.”
Lucas slumped against the wall of the lift, pain showing on his face as he took that on board. His phone call, giving Ben the information that Connie was the mole. And straight after, the young officer with a promising career ahead of him was senselessly killed. After a few seconds he rubbed his hand over his mouth. The others had had hours to deal with it, to come to terms in their own way. He had to pull himself together, now. There were things to do.
“Where is she now?” he asked, almost savagely.
“Secure location,” she replied, then relented. “Harry won’t tell us.” For obvious reasons, as Lucas’ reaction proved. “What have you got?”
“An old film that Korachevsky left for me. Need to get it developed now.”
Ros nodded. “We’ve got a problem. We got a warning from another Sugarhorse asset. Something called Tiresias is about to go live, and we don’t know what it is. That film might be our only clue.”
The lift doors opened, and Lucas stood upright, pulling himself together. They would all mourn in their own way - afterwards, when they could relax. “I’ll go get this developed. You know where to find me.”
Lucas North
Spooks
Word Count: 913