

THE SELLAFIELD ONE

BY VICKY CASH

The Sellafield One

Published by Vicky Cash at Smashwords.

Copyright © 2013 Vicky Cash

All characters are fictitious and any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

First Edition.

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ONE: SHAME

What do I feel? Nothing. As I stand here on this bridge, looking down into the raging waters below, I am numb. And I can't help thinking as I stand here, soaked to the skin - it would be over so quickly. If I were to leap from here now, the water would swallow me whole. And although drowning is not an easy way to go, it would surely be preferable to this death that I now live. My skin is no longer skin. The nerves, no longer nerves. My flesh freezes and shivers but I am numb. That's why they call me, The Sellafield One.

They thought they could use me, use me to draw attention away from the accident, from the truth. After all, the truth would spoil their plans for the future. Shame on them. And shame on you for believing them. It hasn't stopping raining since that day. The day my world came crashing down on top of me, the day I lost my vocabulary. And as the two female police officers approach me – although they think that I am unaware of them – I must make my choice. I am only twenty one years of age, my whole young life ahead of me, or so you would think. But I have already stared death in its face, and it stared right back at me, right in my eyes.... And it fled.

"Miss Harriet..."

I prefer Harry. Harriet died at Sellafield.

"... Jenkins. I'm afraid you'll have to accompany us to the station."

I turn. A smile, a faux smile, hugs my lips as they snap on the handcuffs. Here we go.

As Harriet Jenkins is led away by the two police officers, a young woman in military uniform steps forward and exhales a frustrated sigh - for six months she's been watching this woman, but still he wants to wait. But time is not on their side. She has a thick brown file tucked inside her jacket. The name on the file – Harriet 'Harry' Jenkins. The female watches as the officers place Harriet into the back of their patrol car. She watches as it pulls away, its flashing blue lights illuminating her face revealing a frown. She scans the street and, after glancing at her watch, marches away in the opposite direction. He'll be waiting.

We all lose control at some stage in our life, don't we? Even if it's just for the briefest moment. I lost control. His name was and still is, Sir Lucas Chester. Perhaps I should start at the beginning for you – good manners and all that - but no. Why should I defer to another for a moment longer? This is my story. I hit him - Sir Lucas Chester. Who's he, I hear you ask. He's a politician. The government's puppet on a string. He was ordered to ensure that the truth about that accident never left my lips. The rage and grief took over and I lashed out - in front of all those journalists and cameras. He was using me to cover up. Using me to move the spotlight away from the accident, to stop the awkward questions, the prying eyes. Why? Because the plans to build several new nuclear reactors around the country are about to become reality. Several dormant ticking time bombs are about to go live. So I let myself lose control. For the first time since that accident – accident, they're not calling it that. They're calling it an incident. The word incident has less impact you see. It doesn't draw unwanted attention, doesn't drum up fear or questions. I'm tired of being used as a veil to cover the lies, the truth. Forget what she's lost, what she feels, they said. Just use her to remove the spotlight from the plant, they said. So, like a puppet on a string, he followed orders. I shut down my emotions, just as my body is slowly shutting down. But today, today I'd had enough. But instead of grief or sadness or despair, I found that I was and still am infused with something alien to me. Something so powerful and overwhelming. A feeling I've never in my short years, ever known. Rage. Time seemed to be passing in slow motion as I stood there with the flash of the cameras blinding me, the intoxicating smell of Sir Chester's aftershave nauseating me. I felt sick to the core. Forget my parents. Forget the events that unfolded on that fateful day. Forget me. To him and his friends in the cabinet, I was no longer a human life. I was an unwanted consequence turned into a vote winner. So in that moment, as I stood there, something snapped in me. There were screams, gasps of shock, camera flashes. And I stood there, numb, with his blood on my knuckles.

He's here. I can hear him outside the door. His voice is so distinctive. How can I describe it? A cross between a squeal and a bark. He's.... he's a bit of a prick actually. Thinks he's better than the average person on the street because he was educated at Eton. In private, he's a sex mad alcoholic who thinks he's god's gift to women. If you ask me, he could use a dose of bromide in his tea every morning.

"Harriet."

"Harry. Harriet died at Sellafield Nuclear Plant, alongside her parents."

He stands there with his hands on his hips before strolling forward and sitting opposite me. He looks odd with his broken jaw, almost comic now. I'll try not to laugh. He lights up a cigar and stares hard at me. I refuse to let the smoke choke me. My gaze seems to unsettle him. I know what he sees. Nothing.

"They want to charge you. You broke my jaw in three places."

What does he expect me to say? He treats me not as a person, but as a vote winner. And now he expects sympathy.

"Harriet... Harry. I want to know why you did this. What have I done to you to deserve this? I looked after you after the acc.... incident. Saw you received the very best health care. That your parents' mortgage was paid in full so that you had a home to go back to. We have protected you."

Protected me? Yeah, right. He and his friends care only about their reputation, prestige and money. He grows tired with my constant silent periods. The periods when words refuse to form and speech fails me. He doesn't understand it. It scares him most of the time. I scare him. My story could bring him and his friends to their knees, and throw the government into chaos.

"Do you have a family? A family who loves you? Who would do anything for you?"

My question has taken him aback. He stares hard at me for a long time.

"Yes, I do."

"Do they see you as a good man? Do you see yourself as a good man, Lucas?"

"Most of the time, yes."

I scoff at that. A good man who cheats on his wife at every opportunity. Each night in that hotel room, it wasn't his wife sharing his bed.

"Then why do you lie? Why cover up the accident? Do you fear that if you spoke the truth, your family wouldn't stand with you? That they too would turn their backs on you, just as your friends would throw you to the wolves?"

"The acc.... incident has been thoroughly investigated by...."

"You used me to cover up, Lucas. That's what they want, isn't it? Your friends in the government. They want you to make sure that I keep my mouth shut. Because if the public's gaze is on me, the accident – and don't patronise me, that's exactly what it was. If the public are looking at me – The Sellafield One – the accident, why it happened, can be swept under the carpet. Conveniently forgotten."

He stares at me and swallows hard. His eyes say it all. There's no remorse, no shame, just plain fear. He follows orders because it's easier than speaking out. He's forgotten how to feel anything but fear. Fear of losing everything - power, position and money, that's all he cares about.

"You weren't there, Lucas. But you talk like you were. To keep me quiet, to keep me controlled, you throw money at me. Do you honestly think money can replace what I've.... I'm tired, Lucas. I'm hurting beyond words. Shame on you."

He swallows hard again and looks to the floor as a single tear rolls down my cheek.

"Look at me! You look me in the eyes and open your ears, because you have never listened to me! If you really are a good man, Lucas, you'll look me in the eyes and listen!"

At my outburst, he jumps. He knows what happened at the plant - the facts. But he's never listened to me, to my side of the story. He forces himself to look at me.

"It was my first day. My parents had worked at Sellafield for twenty years. I learned everything I know from both of them. They were so proud of me when I got that job. Following in their footsteps. I don't care how it happened or what actually happened. I care that it happened at all, when it shouldn't have. And let's just look at the facts for a second. Degraded components. Insufficient protection. Outdated, worn equipment that should have been replaced years ago.... But of course, replacing the old costs money doesn't it? Sod the lives if we can save a few quid. They can make do, just as they always have. Isn't that your motto, and the motto of your friends in the cabinet? We must save on the cost at any and all costs."

"Harry...."

"It should have been me, Lucas! But instead, they died and somehow, I didn't. I get to live! But that's not strictly true, is it? Something happened to me, we just don't know what. The scientists and doctors, with their fancy tests, can't figure out what happened to me. They say my own immune system is killing me, but they couldn't tell me anymore than that. Or maybe they could, and were ordered not to. And instead of being told the truth, the public are told it was a minor incident. The fact that I'm dying, crippled and outcast is omitted, conveniently left out of the reports and the statements. And you can't figure out why I lashed out at you. How do you sleep at night, Lucas? How do you live with this lie?" I scoff. "The truth would bring this government to its knees, wouldn't it? It would spoil their plans for a cheap nuclear future. Money can't bring back my parents, Lucas. It can't.... I am twenty one years old. I should have my whole life ahead of me. Instead, my friends treat me like an invalid, a leper. They make excuses not to go out on the town with me - excuses so as not to be seen with me in public at all. So I find myself alone, excluded from society at twenty one years old." I stare hard at him, fighting back the anger and the rage. "You insult me, Sir Lucas Chester. Shame on you, that you think money could ever make me feel better. Shame on you, bastard politician. You and your friends did this to me. And then you insult me further by lying and covering up. You only stand by me to keep watch, to make sure that I can't tarnish your cushy little lives with my story. I wasn't even allowed time to grieve, Lucas. Do you know how that feels?"

It takes him a while to pluck up the courage to speak. And it seems he's ignored every word I've said. He wipes the cold sweat from his brow and stands.

"You'll be released without charge. Go home, Harriet. Rebuild your life."

"What life? Look at me. Something inside of me is killing me. Half of my body is covered in burns - the flesh melted away in the fire. Who would ever love me? Who would ever even want to look at me? I am left outcast because of men like you." I scoff. "Do you know what it feels like to walk down the street and have people pointing and whispering? What if feels like to have people who, not long ago were my friends, call me a freak, a monster? No, I don't suppose you do. And if you're honest, you don't really care, do you? Because you don't have to live my life. You can be as ignorant as the rest."

He lets out a frustrated sigh and turns on his heels.

"How many more accidents have happened, Lucas? How many so called minor incidents have been swept under the carpet? The truth conveniently erased? How many, Lucas? Is it just the nuclear industry or does it go further? Is the whole system just as corrupt as you?"

No more words leave his lips as he turns and stares right at me. A shiver passes through him but he hides it well. He sighs and shakes his head before marching out of the room, without a care in the world. He slams the door shut behind him. I guess my question hit a nerve.

TWO: STRAIGHT LINES AND CONSEQUENCES

Do I anger or annoy you, because I tell the story in bits instead of from the beginning? In a straight line as it were? Well, why should I tell it like a story, in a straight line? After all, who can honestly say that life is as straightforward as a story, or as neat as a ruled line? Life's complicated. Life is never played out in straight lines, it's never simple and it doesn't always make sense. This is my life, not some fantastic work of fiction. I won't defer to someone else. Eight months ago, I survived the accident at Sellafield, but they didn't. They didn't but I was right beside them. My questions were left unanswered. Or perhaps, ignored would be a better word.

You know from my conversation with Lucas certain things so I won't repeat myself. You've been thrown into my story without preparation and I apologise for that. As you are still paying attention to me, I will do the courteous thing and try to explain. If you struggle to comprehend or follow, you must just do your best. After all, our best is all any of us can do, isn't it?

I awoke in a hospital bed. Apparently, I had been unconscious for three days. But in this hospital, there weren't just doctors and nurses, there were scientists. At first, they all wore hazmat suits. They carried Geiger counters and looked at me as though I was a lump of Graphite or Uranium. They took samples of my blood, hair, skin, bodily fluids. They told me nothing until the tests were finished. Your parents felt no pain, they said. They died instantly, they said. I distinctly remember that room. No mirrors. All white and sterile. A window that looked down on the courtyard below. Flowers on the windowsill. I wasn't a prisoner but I felt like one. I was the only patient in that hospital. The others, I was eventually told, had been moved. Why? They said nothing. I can't tell you what I felt in that moment. I'd just been told that both of my parents had died. How could I ever tell you what that feels like?

It was another week before they told me about my condition – if you can call it that. And then they stood me in front of a mirror, pulled away the black veil and said nothing. Then I understood why I was the only patient in that hospital. In some weird, twisted way, I suppose you could say that I got off lightly. I was standing right there, right next to them both. They were vaporised, I lived. Half of my body was burned, right down the left side – the skin.... like melted cheese. Then they told me that something had happened to me. But what, they didn't know – or at least that's what they told me. You're dying, they said. And then, nothing more. The final insult came from the politicians. They used me to cover up the truth. Why? So the protesters couldn't use me to put an end to their plans to build more nuclear reactors, to protect themselves. It became a family joke – all of us working at the same place, doing the same job. The accident, the facts – they're not important. This is about consequences. That's what I am now – a consequence of an accident that shouldn't have happened. I stopped being human in their eyes that day. I became a test subject, a conundrum. An unwanted consequence. And that's why they call me The Sellafield One.

Across town in an empty office block, two people meet. The office is blank, empty since the recession. Plastic wrapping hangs from the ceiling as do electrical wires. The two lone occupants stand, gazing out over the city as the traffic marches steadily on. The two clandestine figures take no notice of the activity below them. And in turn, they remain unnoticed by the people.

He's six foot and fifty years old. His hair is short and grey – though through stress more so than his age. Actually, he looks young for his age. His face is wrinkle free and fresh. His hazel eyes shine with an abundance of life. His name is Oscar Oakley.

His thirty two year old female companion wears a pristine military uniform – that of a captain. The cloth is still soaked from the rain, but it doesn't distort the perfectly ironed lines of the uniform – perfection that takes many painstaking hours each morning. She's a slender five foot nine with long, silky brown hair that hangs loose around her shoulders. Her baby blue eyes compliment her ruby lips – lips that beg to be kissed. Her name is Captain Caitlin Landon.

"She's still at the station. I put a call through – got them to slow up her release by a couple of hours. It'll give us a chance to talk to her. I'd advise sooner rather than later, given recent developments."

"What do you make of her, Caitlin?"

"She's.... damaged - mentally and physically."

"This taskforce is supposed to be clandestine. Deniable. She could make unnecessary problems for us."

"She's hurting, been outcast by everyone that knows her. She sees herself as a monster, an unwanted consequence. We can give her a purpose, a reason to live."

"Do you think you can control her?"

"I've seen soldiers come home in conditions just like hers. You find your world destroyed. I've been watching her for six months, Oscar. I've seen how people have treated her, and so has she – although she likes to pretend that she doesn't care. She the best liar I've come across in a long time. If we tell her the truth she'll have to trust us. And she has a right to know the truth."

He thinks on her words before taking a breath. "This is serious, Caitlin. We don't know how deep this conspiracy runs – it may even go beyond the industry. Rest assured the conspirators will stop at nothing to stop us. We cannot afford loose cannons."

"She is embroiled in this conspiracy. Like it or not, we don't have a choice."

Oakley sighs, rubbing his chin, deep in thought. He knows she's right, but he remains plagued with doubt.

I cover every mirror with towels - anything - to block out my reflection. It repulses me. In public, I cover my face with the hood of my jacket. People stare, they point and whisper. Forget how it makes me feel, my feelings don't count. I'm just like you, but looking at me, you would think me alien or demonic. I'm a social outcast. A leper - and I use that word deliberately because that is exactly how I'm made to feel by society. They would prefer me to hide away, because then they don't have to look the consequences in the eye. People, even the rest of my family think I should be in an institution. The companies get away with using cheap materials and or outdated designs and equipment because of money. It all boils down to money in the end. But I didn't ask for any of this.

"Miss Harriet sorry, Harry, Jenkins. Otherwise known – publically – as The Sellafield One."

Who's he? He's not a copper. He pulls off his camel trench coat and throws it across the back of his chair. He's calm and dismisses the police officer with a single wave of his hand – no words. Then another face joins him - a female soldier. She seems familiar but I'm not sure why. They both sit in unison. They both have sly smirks on their faces and concern in their eyes - like they know something I don't.

"My name is Oscar Oakley."

I scoff. "Another Sir, are we?"

He laughs as does the female. "No. No, I was offered an honour but I turned it down. I don't agree with the system. There are far more deserving people than me."

"Well that's a first."

He smiles. "Since time is of the essence, I won't make polite conversation. I work for the UKAEA - The United Kingdom Atomic Energy Authority. My colleague here is from British Military Intelligence, her name is Captain Caitlin Landon. And we've been watching you, Miss Jenkins."

"Really."

They exchange a quick glance before she speaks. "You're angry, hurting. You think that lashing out is your only option of escape – that or suicide. I saw you, on that bridge earlier. Could you really have done it? Could you really take your own life?"

I can sense they're after something. "What do you want?"

"To help."

I laugh. "I'm dying. You can't fix that."

Oakley sits forward. "We can...."

"What? More tests?" I scoff.

Landon sits forward to stare directly into my eyes. "You'd be surprised."

I sigh and slump back in the chair. Despite my impending release, my hands remain cuffed at the front. "Why don't you just cut to the chase and tell me why you're really here. Don't patronize me - you can't help me, you're just trying to get me on side. You're after something - I can see it in your eyes."

Landon and Oakley glance at each other. She shrugs her shoulders. "The truth, Oscar."

Oakley clears his throat. The mood has changed somehow. The two people in front of me are suddenly so serious. "We are a part of a taskforce created by the IAEA – the International Atomic Energy Agency. They...."

"I know who the IAEA are." I glare at Landon. "Since when does Military Intelligence work for them?"

"The top brass have agreed to cooperate with the IAEA given the overwhelming evidence presented to them. We have orders to give the IAEA taskforce our full support." Landon sits back in her chair. "Just listen to what he has to say. It is in your interest."

Oakley clears his throat once more and prepares to continue. "We have reason to believe that there is an ongoing cover up - a conspiracy – within the nuclear industry, perhaps beyond. There have been many so called incidents of the nuclear kind - incidents that have been conveniently smothered by the powers that be." He glances at Landon and they seem to exchange concern. "For example, Sellafield. Higher authorities knew that place was a serious risk, yet they chose to ignore IAEA recommendations, made on a routine inspection six months before the accident. Had those recommendations been put in place, the accident would not have happened. Now, that list of recommendations has been lost. All trace of the inspection, gone. But we know an inspection took place, and we know what was said during that inspection. And Sellafield is just the tip of the iceberg," he pauses for breath. "In light of our findings, the decision was taken to create a taskforce, us, to investigate and stop dead any corruption that may exist."

"A conspiracy? Really?"

"Nuclear is a very lucrative industry, but also a very costly one - especially when you take into consideration the cost of research and development, for instance the researching of liquid fuel reactors, Thorium. When profit is put first – as it usually is – corner cutting takes place. There's a clandestine relaxation of safety regulations. Blind eyes and backhanders. Documentation is conveniently lost or destroyed, probably both. Think about it, Harry. You asked Chester yourself how many more accidents there have been. Did he give you answer? Or did he just ignore you, as usual?"

I look up as he says that. How could he know about my conversations with Chester these past months? I swallow. "Why are you telling me all this?"

"We have reason to believe that your life is in serious danger."

Oakley and Landon exchange glances. They both swallow hard, like they're about to drop a bombshell. Oakley continues.

"The public are only told what those in power want the public to hear. And the powers that be won't take any risks. They've been watching you ever since that accident."

"What?"

Landon pipes up now. "You became a part of the conspiracy the moment they used you to cover up the truth. Do you really think that they'll just let you go back to your life as though nothing has happened? Knowing what you know?" She scoffs, giving a slight glance to Oakley. "You know why the accident happened. More importantly, you lived. That makes you a serious danger to them.... and a valuable asset to us."

I scan them both before speaking. My eyes fall on Oakley. "I thought the UKAEA worked on behalf of the government."

They glance at each other before looking back at me. I've clearly impressed them with my knowledge. I'm not the naive little woman some people take me for. Oakley clears his throat. He does that a lot.

"That's true. And that puts me in the perfect position to investigate. We don't know how far this goes. If we brought in IAEA inspectors or the police etcetera, tracks could be covered. Documents conveniently lost or destroyed. We don't know who we can and can't trust."

"You could be corrupt." I spit more venomously than I'd intended.

He stares directly at me, long and hard. "Yes I could. But I am not, and I am insulted by the implication. You will just have to take my word for it. Time is not on our side, Miss Jenkins."

"It sounds to me like you want to shut the industry down."

"We want to protect the industry."

"So you want to use me, just like they did. You said it yourself – I'd be an asset."

Oakley clears his throat and glares at Landon. "Asset was the wrong word. You want to change things? To see justice done for what happened at Sellafield, yes? We can give you that, that is why this taskforce was created."

"Why me?"

"You lived."

I sit back in my chair. I don't know what to think. "Say I believe you. How could you change things? Seriously? Why don't you take a look around you at the world we live in."

"We can but try."

I scoff. "Do you really think that I'm going to believe your little conspiracy theory? You want to use me as a propaganda tool, just like they did. I think we're done here."

"Something is going on behind the scenes – and it may not just be confined to the nuclear industry."

"I said...! We're done here."

I turn away and they stand. At the door they mutter to each other. They think I can't hear what they're saying - I can hear every word.

Oakley whispers. "Maybe this wasn't a good idea."

Landon attempts to lower her voice. "We can't give up on her. Too many already have."

"Clearly, she doesn't believe or trust us."

"Let me talk to her. Alone."

I glance up from the floor as Oakley exits the room. Landon however, she stares hard at me before coming to face me. She squats in front of me to look into my eyes.

"Harry, I know how all this sounds. You're thinking exactly what I thought when I was first pulled into this. But just think for a moment, think about the world we live in – greed and power – think about everything you read, hear in the news. Like you said, look around you. It does start to make sense." She looks away for a second, taking a deep breath. "I know you're scared and you feel outcast, and you're angry. But with us, you'll be working with people who won't push you out. I see the burns, I don't give a shit. I've seen colleagues of mine come home with far worse burns than yours. People are cruel, yes. But not me, not my colleagues. You won't be laughed at or ignored. You'll be respected, befriended." She touches the burned flesh on the left side of my face. I don't flinch or pull away. For some reason I let her hand linger. "Make your parents proud by fighting for a safer nuclear future, a future free of corruption. Isn't that what they'd want?"

I half laugh. "You're asking the impossible."

"If you put your mind to something, it doesn't have to be impossible. It might take time, but if you're willing to fight for something you believe in...."

"You don't give a shit about me. You want me as propaganda tool."

"You're wrong. We need people who are passionate, who actually give a dam. People who won't sit back and believe every word of those in power, who don't only think about money. We need people who can see the truth and are willing to fight for it. The people have a right to know the truth, don't you think?"

I take a moment to think on her words. "What about the cops?"

She smiles and stands. Pulling out a key, she takes off my handcuffs. "It's been taken care of."

"It was you? You got Lucas to drop the charges? How? He's not the sort of man who...."

"That's not your concern."

I grab her wrist – more roughly that I'd intended. "How?"

She's unmoved by my tone and roughness. She has no trouble in shaking off my grip. "Getting angry at me, isn't going to do you any favours."

"Then tell me how you've sorted this mess."

"Just consider working with us as a get out of jail free card. Lucas is weak. He couldn't say no to a nice juicy backhander."

"I just.... I lost it."

"I understand, Harry. And I can help you. But first, I need you to trust me. Trust that what has been said here today, is the truth."

"I actually haven't agreed to work for you yet."

She smiles. "Like we said, your life is in danger. So in the end, you won't have a choice."

THREE: CONSPIRACY

Captain Landon told me she'd contact me in forty eight hours, that that should give me enough time to think. Do you believe that there is a conspiracy? Is it possible? Or am I being taken for a fool again? We know that accidents have happened in the past, and have then been quietly covered up or played down. We know the world revolves around greed and power. Does money really have that much of a hold over our lives? We all know the answer to that, don't we? Landon was right - the longer I think about it, the more it does start to make sense.

I walk in the rain, this time with my hood down, letting the freezing water soothe and cool my skin. I don't see or hear the passersby, I'm too busy thinking on the words of Oscar Oakley and Captain Landon. I admit, this taskforce sounds ambitious. But in this day and age, could it really make a difference? If there is a conspiracy, they said it themselves, they don't know how far it goes. What if members of the IAEA and the UKAEA are involved – what if it does go beyond the industry? What if the government's involved? We'd be trying to achieve the impossible. And my life in danger? I no longer have a concept of danger.

The car with the blacked out windows crawls down the street, the occupants watching their target with eagle eyes. On the pavement to the left, Harry strolls along, oblivious, as the car picks up speed.

I see the car heading right for me but am like a deer caught in the headlights. It almost doesn't register, it's unreal. A male is pulling himself out of the window, a gun in his left hand, but still I am numb. At the very last second, hands tear at my shoulders and yank me backwards. A single bullet ricochets off a lamp post before the car careers off, scrapping the side of three parked cars before regaining control and speeding off around the corner. It's over in seconds. Did that really just happen?

"Are you alright?"

I turn to my rescuer and who should it be but Captain Caitlin Landon. I'm stunned into silence. She takes me by the shoulders and stares deep into my eyes. My breathing is heavy, as is hers.

"Harry?"

I struggle for the words. My throat is suddenly so dry. "I.... I'm fine. What are you....?"

"Somebody knew about our conversation. I was ordered to keep an eye on you – for your protection." Her gaze softens and she grips my shoulder tighter. "We did warn you."

I shake her off. "That was...."

"Harry, this was a hit." Landon sighs, glancing around at the curious onlookers. "Come on, we need to move. It's not safe here."

At home, she hands me a steaming hot cup of tea and sits opposite. We don't speak. I sip the tea, staring at nothing. In shock I guess, or maybe I just don't care anymore. She makes no attempts to speak - I suppose she's waiting for me to speak first. Perhaps they were telling the truth, someone is watching me. He did have a gun, aimed at me, it did happen. But I have to ask myself a question – if this was an attempt on my life, do I really care? I look up at Landon.

"They've been watching me, they were trying to kill me."

She swallows. "Yes."

"So soon after our conversation? It's a bit suspicious, don't you think?"

"There was a leak. We don't know who we can and can't trust." Her eyes fall on mine and hold my gaze. "You have to make your choice, Harry. They won't let you go, not now you've talked to us."

We fall silent again as I slip back into my thoughts.

"You asked me a question earlier, at the station. You asked me, if I could really take my own life. Do you want an answer? Yes. Yes I could take my own life."

She's shocked by my answer, that's clear as she stares at me.

"I've even thought about how I would do it. Jumping in that river was one of a long list of ways that I.... I was that close to jumping. And I saw that car, the gun in his hands, I did. But I didn't feel anything. I was ready to stand there, I was prepared to die. And that terrifies me. Because I didn't ask to be this person. I don't want this, I don't want to feel like this. They did this to me.... So I suppose.... I'll join your taskforce – it seems I don't really have a choice, do I? And if I go with you, it might stop me from...."

Words fail me.

An hour since I made my decision, an hour since Landon left to make arrangements, now a car pulls onto the drive. Landon steps out of the driver's seat and marches up to my front door - I'm already out the door before she even gets there. I've packed only a single bag of possessions. I lock up and follow Landon to the car without saying a word. I stare out at the passing streets and am unmoved. I watch the people and the other traffic. They are oblivious, like sheep, going about their daily lives - the accident long forgotten. Just what the government wants. I only speak once we're on the open road, once I notice the gun tucked in the inside pocket of her jacket.

"Is a gun really necessary?"

"Yes."

There's a moments silence before I open my mouth. "What has Military Intelligence got to do with the IAEA anyway? I thought you served queen, government and country."

"That's right."

"But your little taskforce is working against the government - if you're right about a conspiracy."

"True." She laughs at my expression of confusion and annoyance. I still don't know what to believe. "Oscar's colleagues in the IAEA have a lot of friends in high places – in both the government and the military. Two officers were offered to ensure things remain clandestine, covert. Officially, I and my colleague are on leave from the military. I and Captain Andrew Tate were assigned because we have the most experience between us. The work the taskforce carries out means that the operatives are targets. We're here for their protection and to ensure that their objectives are accomplished successfully."

"Targets?"

Landon glances at me and gives a faint smile.

"There really is a conspiracy, isn't there?"

"Money's a powerful thing, Harry. Profit and power – that's all that counts these days. Don't ever forget that. Believe me, if those in power think that you're about to topple their plans, they won't think twice about sending someone to eliminate you." She stares at me and it's a look I've never seen before. It sounds like something out of a film. "As you were told, we're here to put an end to the corruption. Look at what they did to silence you. And when they found out that you'd been talking to us, they sent a hit team. They've been watching you and someone decided to silence you, for good."

"Who?"

She sighs as she thinks, rubbing her chin with her right hand, resting her elbow on the window. "Unravel the conspiracy, we'll find out."

Silence falls between us as realisation sinks in.

We've driven for three hours almost, in silence, but we're finally nearing the end of our tiresome journey. We're deep in the heart of the city now – an industrial estate. Most of the industry here has closed for business, the buildings up for sale. It's just an average industrial estate hit by the recession. The place is deserted and forgotten, not much to look at. Until we pull up to a set of closed gates. Behind the gates – a vast complex in the heart of the industrial zone. The complex is surrounded by a wire fence – electrified judging by the warning signs dotted around the perimeter - and CCTV cameras cover every corner and inch of the area. The gate, it seems, is automatic. Face recognition software by the looks – not a cheap set up. A camera on the unmanned guard hut scans Landon and a second later the gate opens with a clunk of metal and churning of gears. The complex itself it completely different from the other buildings around the estate. The others are broken, dilapidated. They've been left unkempt, left to the mercy of the elements. But this complex is fairly new. Well cared for. The grounds are clean and weed free. The road and walls of the complex are whitewashed and fresh. Not one sign of rust or damage or dilapidation. If I had to describe it in one word – sterile. The windows though, they're different. Blacked out – not with curtains or blinds, but with paint. Thick, jet black paint. The grounds surrounding the complex are deserted. Not one single sign of life.

"Why here? Why not Harwell?" I ask.

She smiles at that. I'm not as stupid as people take me for. "Harwell is being decommissioned."

"Exactly."

Landon smiles and half chuckles. "I see where you're coming from but no. Harwell's too obvious."

We exit the car and I stroll to Landon's side.

"It looks impressive."

"It is."

I follow Landon to the entrance of the complex. I look around as she types in a code on the keypad, again there's only silence. Eventually a continuous buzz gives us the signal to enter. Landon holds the door open for me to enter first and I'm momentarily stunned by the heat that hits me. After being out in the cold for so long, the heat in hear almost knocks me out. Regaining my composure, I'm greeted by a pristine reception area. Everything is white and glistening. Even the stairs look polished to perfection. Open doors to the left and right of me show rooms with desks and white boards – like lecture halls. The stairs lead up to walkways where the doors remain firmly closed – key card access only. Above the desk, a golden IAEA emblem hangs from thick metal wires.

I'm suddenly aware of Landon's hand on my shoulder, dragging me from my daydream. She smiles and brushes past me, heading for the reception desk and a middle aged woman who sits at a computer, typing. She wears thick, square glasses and a smile hugs her face as she works. Her long, blonde hair is tied neatly into a bun and her makeup has been only lightly applied. Apart from her and us, the place seems deserted. She looks up and the smile widens as she greets Landon.

"Mission accomplished, Caitlin?" She asks in a broad, unfamiliar accent.

"Hopefully. Could you let Oscar know we've arrived please?"

"Of course."

Landon leans casually on the desk and smiles as she watches me. The woman pulls herself up and strolls towards a door behind the reception area. Funny, I didn't notice that before. This room is protected by a key card and a code. Key coded doors and gates, everything hush hush and military operatives as protection - these people are clearly fond of security. A second later, the woman disappears – the door locking behind her.

I come to stand beside Landon. "Is all this security, secrecy really necessary?"

"You really don't believe that there is a conspiracy, do you?"

"I don't know what to believe. I know the politicians and the company - they covered up at Sellafield - but other than that...."

"We told you – Sellafield is just tip of the iceberg. The politicians, the companies - they've been covering up, lying, for a very long time."

"Do you have proof of that?"

Landon looks me dead in the eye and suddenly her whole demeanour has changed. I can't describe it. "Yes."

Her answer shocks me. She was so serious in the way she said it. So adamant. Before either of us can say anything else, the welcoming voice of Oscar Oakley echoes as he strides towards us. The woman sits quietly back at her desk, returning to her work without further comment.

"Miss Jenkins, so glad you decided to join us."

"It seemed I didn't have much of a choice."

"Well, if you'll follow me, we'll get you settled. I'll introduce you to the others later."

"You live here? On site?"

Landon answers that as Oakley wrestles with the words. "It's safer that way."

"Easier." Oakley adds quickly.

I follow Oakley through the secure door, Landon close behind me. We enter into a corridor. Bland and insignificant. Whitewashed brick. Though, the temperate has dropped rapidly. It's colder than the reception area but not as cold as it is outside. The doors to my left and right are all locked – all requiring access cards. Oakley gives me the verbal tour of the complex.

"This complex houses sleeping and living quarters. Research laboratories. Computer labs. Testing areas. We even have simulation equipment and firing ranges. All state of the art, all the best and up to the date equipment and technology. Here we can experiment, research – we can even access coded documentation and communications if necessary – anything to help us do our job. We can be entirely self sustained here if we have to be – we have enough supplies to last for four years."

"There's also an armoury on site." Landon adds from behind.

"Firing ranges? An armoury?"

"For defence," she replies.

Defence? And these people are serious, they're not joking. What am I caught up in?

I press them. "You said you had proof of cover ups, conspiracy."

Oakley turns to me as we reach the door to his office. "We do. But that'll come later. First, we have some things to take care of."

His office is huge. Mr Oakley here clearly likes his home comforts. And why not? I used to. The office is roasting – the large roaring fireplace ablaze. There are two large tables – not desks – oak tables. One to work at, the other is full of an assortment of drinks - liquors and soft. A navy blue, leather sofa stretches the length of one wall. Multiple blood red cushions are scatted across it. A large painting hangs above the fireplace. It depicts a wintry scene in a village. The colours stand out and the whole picture just grabs your attention. The walls are even decorated – wallpapered in a soft, pale pastel.

"I've got some paperwork here for you." Oakley comments as he sits at his desk. He opens a thick, brown file and shuffles some papers. Landon stands at ease at the door. "Your ID card and access card. You'll need these to access most of the offices in this facility. I wrote your pass code down on this paper," he hands me a thin sheet of white paper. On it is a long, six figure number. "Memorise it then burn the paper."

I take the two cards and stare at them, running my fingers over the smooth edges. Oakley sniffs the air as he closes the file and replaces it to the draw. He pulls out a camera.

"One last thing – your photo. For our face recognition software."

He takes my photograph and smiles. Taking a deep breath he stands to his full height and nods to Landon.

"You like your security, don't you?" I comment.

He laughs. "I'm afraid it's essential in the current climate. Especially as we are investigating our own," he stops to take a long breath. "Welcome to the team, Harry. If you'll excuse me, I'll let Caitlin show you to your room. We'll give you some time to adjust, get settled in before I introduce you to the others. If you need anything just ask her. Don't be afraid, she's not half as frightening as she seems – for a military officer."

Landon chuckles and shakes her head at his little joke. I force half a smile. Smiling isn't something I've done in a while. I seem to have forgotten how to do it. She looks to me and her expression is soft, warm as she smiles at me. She opens the door and follows me out without another word.

I follow her into a stairwell and we begin the long climb upwards. It seems to take forever but finally we emerge onto another blinding white corridor \- but this corridor is only white because of the lights. The walls themselves are actually painted silver. Colourful tapestries and paintings hang at intervals. I guess living and working here, they try to make it as comfortable as possible. Try to make it more.... homely. Something else I've long forgotten.

"The rooms are actually quite comfortable. Further down, there's a sort of lounge area with a TV and pool table. It's all very cosy. There's a bar too, with alcohol, but we tend to stick to soft drinks mostly. Even further down, there's the canteen. I'll show you that later – unless you're feeling hungry?"

"No...." I clear my throat. "So, you know everything about me, is there anything I should know about you, Captain?"

She chuckles. "Well, I'm not exactly your stereotypical military officer - as I'm sure you'll see for yourself soon enough. Don't get me wrong, I know how to command and I know how to shout. But I also know how to.... turn blind eyes should we say." She stops and turns to me, running her fingers over her lips. "Put it this way, as long as orders are followed and the job is done, I'm not overly concerned with the how. Other than that...."

We stop outside a door and she takes my key card to slide it through the slot on the handle. With a bleep and a click, the door unlocks and opens. Landon lets me enter first. The room is large – she was right about the ample room. The walls are painted in a neutral white. Silk, dark purple curtains hang at the window – not much to see, it looks down onto the roof of another part of the complex. A vase of an assortment of flowers sits on the small desk next to the window, next to a phone and writing pad. A set of furniture hugs one wall – a chest of draws, a wardrobe and table. The bed is a king size and the cover looks welcoming and soft. The carpet is navy blue and soft to the touch. Landon places my key card down on the desk and clears her throat.

"If there's nothing you need, I'll leave you to settle in."

I turn to her as she makes for the door. "Thank you."

She nods. "I'll see you later."

She smiles and her smile is so warm. She seems to see me, and not the burns. As she disappears, I turn back to the room.

A door to the left leads to a large bathroom. I step inside and, taking care not to look into the mirror, I begin to fill the basin, resting my hands on the porcelain. There's a shower – modern and crystal clean. All the taps are silver and polished. The walls are tiled white. Why always white in these places? As the basin fills and I turn off the water, I do the one thing I've avoided all this time. I stare right into the mirror, at myself. And I'm frozen. I don't see me anymore. I see a monster. I blink to drag myself away from the image and cup my hands to rinse my face with the cool water. But no matter what I do, my eyes keep falling back on the image of myself in the mirror. And I feel the anger rising in me again. So, to quell that anger, I grab a towel and throw it over the mirror to banish my reflection – just like at home. Drying my face, I stand up straight, pull the hood of my jumper up over the burns, turn on my heels and march from the room.

I exit my room and stroll down the corridor, heading towards the lounge area, caught in a daydream. I keep my head down.

"You don't need to do that here."

I jump out of my skin almost as I half turn towards the voice. Captain Landon is sat in one of the two armchairs, reading a paper. She didn't even look up from it as she made her comment. As I remain silent and frozen to the spot where I stand, she looks over at me. With a concealed sigh, she casually throws the paper onto the small coffee table and drags herself to her feet. She strides over to me and takes hold of my jumper, pulling the hood down to expose the burns. I, rather harshly, pull myself free and move away, pulling the hood back up. She's not impressed.

"No one here, Harry, is going to treat you any different. Burns or no burns. You don't have cover them up."

"Yes, I do."

"Why?"

"Because."

"Why?" Landon repeats, more harshly this time.

I snap this time. "Just because!" She's unmoved by my outburst. I let out a sigh, calming my tone. "I'm sorry."

"Coffee?"

I look up at her and nod. I watch her go over to the coffee machine, pouring two cups, before sitting in the other armchair. She remains silent as she hands me a cup and sits beside me. She stares at the wall as she sips.

"It's easier. To cover them up. People don't notice as much, so they don't comment or stare." I lie.

She lets out a long breath from her nose and nods. Downing her coffee, she drags herself up again. Before she walks off, she bends to whisper into my ear.

"And you're lying. Do you know what I think? You can't see past the burns."

I swallow hard and watch her as she marches off down the corridor to her own room. When she disappears inside, I sigh and slump back in the chair, cupping my mouth in my burned left hand. I stare at it for a moment, the fingers of my other hand hovering over the flesh. I quickly pull my sleeve down – the melted skin repulses me.

Ten minutes later, Landon rejoins me and this time sits opposite me, perching perilously on the coffee table. Again, carefully, she pulls down my hood.

"I can't help you if you don't talk. And I want to help you, Harry."

I scoff. "You know nothing about me, not really."

"Actually, I know quite a bit about you. And you're a part of this team now, so...."

"So?"

"So you're going to have to talk to us, like it or not. You're bottling up feelings that, for eight months, you've been forced to shut away. Bottling up all that poison, is not good for your health."

"Good for my health? I'm dying. Don't you understand that? Something is killing me but I don't know what, because either the doctors don't know, or they're a part of your conspiracy and are lying to me. Either way it doesn't matter. Nothing is good for my health anymore. I'm already dead."

"That is not true, Harry. It's really not. We've got the best scientists here on the team, maybe they can help – if you give them a chance."

"More tests? I'm so sick of tests. Of being a lab rat."

Before Landon can reply, Oakley strides around the corner, beaming. Landon jumps to her feet but doesn't take her eyes off of me.

"Settled in?"

"Yes, thank you."

"Good. If you'd like, I'll take you to meet the others now. While they're all gathered in one place," he laughs.

"Ok."

I move off down the corridor, Oakley follows. He half turns back to Landon and calls to her.

"Are you coming, Caitlin?"

She looks up, hands on hips and clears her throat. "Of course."

I walk on ahead while Oakley walks close beside Landon. They whisper but I can hear every word.

"Well?" Oakley asks.

"She's.... won't open up. I think she wants to, but...."

He breathes out through his nostrils. "Keep trying. That's all you can do."

We avoid the staircase this time, instead clambering into the lift. Moments later the doors open and we step out into another corridor. Oakley leads us towards a lone door at the far end. A map on the wall tells me that we're actually one floor below the complex.

"What is this place?" I ask Landon.

"Just one big play area."

I stop and stare as she passes, a sly smirk hugging her lips. When I walk through the door, I'm met by a.... bunker. The concrete walls are thicker than the ones above and covered with lead in some parts. There are worktops on one wall – the far wall - the rest is just blank. It's dark and cold down here and I adjust my jumper to compensate as I look around.

"What is this? A nuclear bunker?"

"Sort of." Landon smiles.

"Expecting a nuclear meltdown, are we?"

There's an uneasy tension between me and Landon, ever since our conversation upstairs. Oakley seems to sense this and clears his throat.

"It's a testing area. In here we test components and materials for weakness, suitability and such. We believe that corners are being cut, so we replicate any component from a reactor that we suspect to be unsuitable and test it down here. If it fails our tests, we have grounds to shut down the plant in question and carry out a full inspection And if the controllers refuse and make a fuss, Captain Landon and her colleague jumps in." He smiles before striding towards the other three occupants of this.... bunker.

I watch as Oakley and Landon chat with the others before, hesitantly, striding towards them. The first to greet me is a female – a scientist. She's in her forties and around five foot maybe. She's slightly plump but not overweight, and her white lab coat hangs open, revealing a grass green blouse. Her auburn hair is tied up in a ponytail, but her facial features are obscured by the thick round jam jar glasses that sit perfectly on her face. Her crystal blue eyes though, ooze warmth and shine professionalism.

"This is Alison Cain. She's our lead scientist. She worked for twenty years in the IAEA Installation Safety Division before coming to us in the UKAEA. I'd watch her when she's not working - she likes to play practical jokes."

Everyone laughs and agrees with Oakley. I smile too. This time, I don't have to force it. It just seems to happen naturally again.

Another scientist steps forward. He's younger than Alison – I would say early thirties. His accent stands out the most – Swiss – although his hazel eyes enthral. He's well built with his broad shoulders, though his lab coat is done up all the way to the top. His hair is short but uncombed.

"This is Dale Benedict. Junior scientist to Ms Cain. A rising star in the nuclear industry apparently – or so I was told by his former superiors in the IAEA." Out of sight of the others, Oakley whispers in my ear. "Bit of a loner, and a hypochondriac. He's hard to read but you'll get used to him."

Finally another soldier steps forward, having finished conferring with Landon. He's also a Captain. He looks slightly older than her but not by much - maybe a year. Like Landon, he holds himself in true military style, stood at ease before me. His uniform is immaculate – not one crease or one bit of dust or dirt. His hair is cut neatly and combed to perfection. But it's a scar under his right eye that mostly catches my attention. Apart from his height - I'd say, easily, well over six feet.

"Finally, this is Captain Andrew Tate. Captain Landon's colleague from Military Intelligence."

Landon steps in. "He's a real ladies' man."

At that, they all burst into laughter again. They seem really relaxed – even around me. Not one of them seems affected by my burns. This is unusual for me. I'm used to people staring and pointing, asking questions I don't want to answer. But these people in front of me, they seem to.... see me.

"So what are you then?" I ask Landon.

The other fall silent. Landon steps up close to me and scans me. After an awkward moment, the smile creeps back onto her face.

"Me – I'm...."

"Mother!" Cain cries bursting into laughter. The others join in and seem to agree with her.

"I am not!" Landon begins to argue as the laughing continues.

"Really? Who's the first person we go to with our problems?"

I listen and watch them all carefully as they continue their joking. This is alien to me. This sort of.... relaxed, welcoming atmosphere. Eight months ago it wouldn't have been but now.... I've forgotten how to react in situations like this, how to join in the fun. But I do find myself smiling and laughing again - naturally, not by force. This is something I haven't felt in a while - a long while. So long I'd forgotten how good it feels.

Oakley comes to my side and gently grips my shoulder. "I think you're going to fit right in." He smiles down at me before striding towards the door.

I turn back to watch the others as they mess about, laughing and joking, and I mutter under my breath. "I guess you're the optimist."

FOUR: PROOF AND THE SELLAFIELD ONE

I'm alone in my room. The others went to the canteen but I'm not hungry. They said they had proof – proof of other cover ups, proof of a conspiracy. I still haven't seen it. Thing is, I've been past from pillar to post these last eight months – I don't know who to trust anymore. How do I really know, that what these people have told me, is the truth? How, when they've shown me nothing to make me believe it? But then, the truth was covered up about me. The accident was swept under the carpet. Maybe that's proof enough.

"Here you are."

I turn to see Landon standing in the doorway. I glance back at her but immediately turn back to the window.

"You said you had proof."

"We do."

"Yet you refuse to show it to me."

Now I turn to glare at her. She's unimpressed but sighs and strolls towards me.

"We're not refusing. We just thought...."

"Don't mess me about, I've had enough of that. Show me what you have. Or it's pointless me being here."

She stares hard, right into my eyes. She seems to scan them - as though she's trying to get inside my head, to read me. I'm no book. Finally she looks away and put her hands on her hips before blowing out the breath she was holding.

"Fine. But I warn you, this is not going to be easy."

I follow Landon in silence through the complex. More corridors, more stairs. We eventually arrive at a door not like the others in the complex. This one is steel - thick steel. Again, to gain access, a code is required. Inside, the room is cold and the walls are also fortified by steel. It's like a stronghold. A single desk and a couple of chairs sit at the far wall. The rest of the room is occupied by row after row of stacks – shelves occupied by numerous cardboard boxes - some of them almost at bursting point. And each box has a different label – the names of nuclear plants – active and decommissioned. Hartlepool, Sellafield, Berkeley, Chapelcross, Bradwell, the list goes on – it's never ending. These boxes are all full of information pertaining to 'incidents' at UK nuclear plants, all covered up or whitewashed over completely.

Landon, standing in the doorway with her arms folded, explains. "Each box contains files, documentation, photographs and more, all relating to accidents that been covered up, played down or completely ignored. Including accidents that the public have never been made aware of. And at some of the plants, there has been more than one incident, sometimes serious. We've found evidence of corner cutting, the relaxation of rules and blatant disregard of IAEA recommendations – and they're only the causes of accidents. They've all been covered up by the companies and the politicians, regardless of the government in power at the time. Documentation has disappeared, payoffs and backhanders. Staff have even been threatened that if they talk, bad things will happen to them – them or their families. If that doesn't work, they make sure the staff are discredited, blackmailed, set up and lured into compromising positions. They can even use the Official Secrets Act and have them imprisoned on false charges."

"So it does go deeper than the nuclear industry?"

"That's what we need to find out."

She watches me from the doorway as I read the label on each of the boxes. I daren't lift the lids through fear of what I might see. There are a lot of boxes here, all of them at bursting point with their contents.

"This has been going on for a very long time, Harry. It started with Windscale in 1957," she pauses. "We're not the ones lying to you. We're not the ones trying to hurt you – and that's exactly the length these people will go to, to cover up. Oscar knows that, more than any of us."

"What do you mean?" I turn to her, curious about that last comment.

She sighs and looks to the floor for a moment before looking back at me. "It's not my place to say. That's his story."

I turn back to the archives and chew my bottom lip. Perhaps there is a conspiracy after all.

"If you want to read through them go ahead, but none of the archives leave the complex. And there are only two secure, fortified areas where you're allowed to access these archives – in here and in the nerve centre on the fourth floor." She pauses to let the information sink in. "Each of these boxes contains sensitive information – information the powers that be would do anything to get rid of."

"How many have there been? Accidents I mean?"

Landon stares hard at me – anger and sympathy in her eyes and tone of voice. "Since '57, I couldn't honestly tell you. And we have to consider that the nuclear industry is just the beginning."

I swallow hard as realisation suddenly bites once more. "This is real, isn't it? It's not paranoia, not...."

"It's real. And it will go on until someone makes a stand. That's where we come in."

"But can you really make a difference?"

"I hope so – and that's the only answer I can give. No one knows if what we're doing will make a difference, but we have to try."

I chew my bottom lip as I stare at the stacks. Finally I shake my head and back out of the room. "I need some air."

I find myself.... speechless.

LONDON. UNDISCLOSED LOCATION.

A gathering of fourteen men meet in a boardroom somewhere in the centre of London. The windows look down onto the city below as commuters make their way home in the evening rush hour - using anything they can to shelter themselves from the torrential rain. The fourteen men sit around the large, oval oak table. They're waiting for Sir Lucas Chester to arrive. He's late and the men are growing impatient. They shuffle in their seats and mutter curses under their breath. At the head of the table, one man sits listening to his colleagues with his fingers entwined, his hands thrown across the table. He's fifty nine and heavily built – carrying a beer gut. His face is unshaven and the three day stubble clings like ivy. His hair is grey and thinning on top. He too is growing impatient as the hour grows later. He is only ever referred to as, Sir Veer. He's a clever, suave businessman, who holds large shares in all of the UK's major nuclear installations, and has more money than he can spend. He's obscenely rich and doesn't mind flaunting that fact. But he is not a patient man. Chester is already an hour late. He bangs his fist down on the table and jumps to his feet. His colleagues don't even flinch – they're used to his brief but violent outbursts. Veer stands staring out of the window, his left arm braced against the glass.

Finally, after another painful twenty minutes, Sir Lucas Chester saunters into the room, casually throwing his coat over the back of the chair before flopping into it. He stifles a yawn.

"You're late." Veer mutters, trying his hardest to keep his temper in check.

"I got held up." Chester glares directly at Veer as he turns from the window. "I take it it was your idea to have Miss Jenkins meet with a tragic end?"

"I don't know what you're talking about, Lucas."

"You might not have actually given the order. But you got one of your middlemen to do it, didn't you?"

Veer smirks as he turns back to the window. "She's a problem."

"She's a child." Chester scoffs, half chuckling. "She's dying, she's unstable, and everyone's disowned her. She is not a threat."

Veer turns back and launches himself at Chester. Saliva covers his face as Veer snaps. "That is not a chance I want to take! I've a lot of money invested in this programme. And I won't lose a single penny because of some bitch."

"She is not a threat!" Chester pushes Veer away, pulling himself to his full height.

"Really? Then where is she? Because she isn't at home. And I've got it on good authority that she met with a couple of people from the IAEA, and that they've persuaded her onto their side."

"You're clean. We are all clean. This little taskforce is a crapshoot, they're amateurs."

Veer steps back and takes a deep breath, calming himself. Letting out a deep, audible sigh, he looks up at Chester.

"Are we still on schedule?"

"The government has approved the building of several new plants across the UK. Everything's fine."

As Chester scoops up his coat and strolls to the door, Veer calls after him.

"And if you're wrong about her?"

"Then I'm confident you can take care of it."

IAEA TASKFORCE FACILITY

I march through the complex towards the living area. I'm heading for the lounge where the others are gathered. As I get closer, I can hear them laughing and chatting - relaxing after a hard day's work.

"Sellafield – tell me what you know."

They all fall silent at my question and glance at each other. Alison Cain stands and approaches me. She looks back at the others before sitting on the arm of the chair.

"An inspection was carried out by my colleagues from the IAEA and the problems identified. A full list was handed in with recommendations to correct immediately. It was deemed as high risk."

"But nothing was done?"

"No."

"So, if they had followed the recommendations, my parents would still be alive."

No one answers. They glance at each other. They know what happened. They know everything about me.

"So what do we do about it?"

They're shocked by my reaction. They know of my hesitation, my mistrust.... my suicidal thoughts. They all look to me before glancing at each other.

"We do what this taskforce was created to do."

We all turn to stare as the voice of Oscar Oakley echoes as he strolls, unsteadily, around the corner into view.

"We put a firework up the arses of the powers that be and root out the conspirators." He continues his stroll down the corridor. His cheeks are a little red and there's a slight spring in his step. "Is anyone else hungry? I'm hungry."

I turn to the others as his unsteady form disappears. "Is he drunk?"

Land stands to her full height. "There's a reason, but it's not for any of us to say." Now she looks directly at me. "So, do you trust us now?"

I just nod. I don't have much of a choice with the evidence she showed me. She sends me a warm smile and takes hold of my shoulders.

"Then do me a favour. Pull your hood down."

I freeze, the smile wiped from my lips. I swallow hard as they all seem to be staring at me. They're not – the rest of the group have gone back to whatever they were doing before I came in – but it feels like eyes are scrutinising me.

"I...." I clear my throat to lower my voice. "I told you, I can't."

"Yes you can. You don't have to keep hiding, not with us."

Alison Cain seems to have been taking more notice of our conversation than I'd thought. She grips my shoulder gently. "Everyone here, in some way, has been scarred by the industry. There's no shame. My fellow scientist, Dale, has developed hypochondria. I myself have physical scars, and as for Oscar – he's lost everything he loved," she pauses. "Captain Tate has scars from his last tour of duty. Caitlin also...."

"More scars than I'd care to mention."

I back away from them. A cold sweat seems to have taken me over. "I.... I can't." I continue to back down the corridor before turning and rushing to my room. I lock the door behind me.

I remember in the hospital, when I didn't have them covered, the doctors and nurses would recoil in horror. After a while, they couldn't bring themselves to look me in the eye. The flashbacks keep me from sleep. It hurts too much to sleep. A knock at my door rouses me from my doze. It doesn't register at first but after another three taps, I drag myself from the bed and open the door.

"Captain."

I step aside to allow her entry.

"Caitlin, please."

I place my hands on my hips. "What do you want?" My tone is a little harsher than I'd intended but I always feel worse in the morning.

She glares hard at me, unimpressed by my brashness. "I came to collect you – until you know your way around."

I go to grab my hooded jumper but Caitlin stops me. She grabs my wrist with one hand, snatching away the jumper with the other.

"Not today, Harry. You're a part of this team, you are not hiding away from us."

I can feel the rage surging again and I turn to the window. I clench my fists and close my eyes while I calm my breathing.

"The first time I stepped outside without a hooded jumper on, people recoiled in horror. And they didn't try to hide their disgust either. Even the doctors and nurses in that hospital. They think I don't hear but I do. People, either they treat me like a leper or they.... I just want to be.... me again."

"Harry, you are still the woman...."

I turn to her as she fails to finish her sentence. "Exactly."

She gingerly clutches my burned left hand and runs her fingers across the scars. "The first step to finding yourself again, is leaving this room without that jumper. Come on, before Oscar sends a search party."

I half laugh at that comment and Landon smiles at me. And there's a moment. Almost as if time stands still. Maybe she's getting through to me – successfully tearing down my defences. She looks deep into my eyes and I return her gaze. After a minute, she breaks her hold and swallows hard.

"All of us here – we all have one thing in common. As Alison told you last night, we've all got scars. Just because you can't see them, doesn't mean they're not there, Harry."

"Will you show me your scars?" I call after her as she heads to the door, my jumper rolled up and tucked under her arm.

She turns in the doorway and I notice the smile has disappeared. "Perhaps. If you let me in."

I walk with Landon, side by side. Without my hooded jumper I feel.... naked. Exposed. Like I'm about to come under fire. But walking beside this woman, surprisingly, gives me some comfort. I don't know why. Maybe it's because she sees me and not the burns – or so she says. Most people only see the burns but Caitlin – she seems different. I'd forgotten what it's like to be treated as a normal person - how it feels.

We make for the lift and head up to the very top floor – the fourth floor. The corridor on this floor is short – literally a few feet maybe before you're at another stronghold door. This door is different though. As well as a code, the locking mechanism can be controlled by any occupants via the camera that sits above the door, tucked neatly away in the corner where it's not easily noticeable. I notice everything. That's why I was – am – good at my job.

Landon explains. "This is the heart of the complex - the nerve centre. Everything is controlled from in here. We've all spent many, long nights in here. It's something you'll need to get used to."

I give a slight smile and shrug my shoulders. "I don't sleep much anyway."

Inside, what I can best describe as a control hub, meets my eyes. The room – I say room, it's much larger – is sterile and heavily fortified – the concrete walls thicker than normal. Computer workstations are gathered in the very heart of the room. All the computers in here are linked together and one of them is linked to the CCTV system that covers the entire complex. Captain Tate sits at that one, monitoring everything that's happening in the complex, scrutinising everything that catches his eye. To the left of the room, is what I can best describe as a cluster of scientific workstations. Sterile worktops with all sorts of scientific equipment. More shelves hug the farthest wall. More labelled cardboard boxes sit on them – more archives concerning the UK's nuclear plants I guess. From here, they control everything that happens in and around the complex – they can even lock the place down in the event of unwanted visitors at the push of a button. Everything is scrutinised and nothing is missed.

"Impressive." I comment, turning to Landon.

The others are already busy – hard at work at their computer screens.

"Do you have any leads?"

"A few. Starting with your old friend, Sir Lucas Chester."

I knew he'd be involved. I was right about him. "Why am I not surprised? So what do I do?"

"I suggest..." Oakley strolls towards us. It's amazing – he doesn't even look hung over. "...you start with the archives. We're still in the research phase at the moment. We always start with the past. Same tricks, just a different era. Would you like some coffee? Or tea perhaps?"

"I'm good, thank you. But why waste time? Why not just bring Chester in, put some pressure on him? What's the point in sitting around here?"

"We must get our facts right before we go making accusations, yes?"

He smiles and returns to his work. As Landon leaves my side to get on with her own work, I look towards the archives at far end of the room and stroll towards them. As I pass, I notice that each of these chosen few take no notice of my mangled flesh. They all smile and bid me a good morning. Again, I find myself uncomfortable. I've gotten so used to being outcast. I feel exposed, open to attack. I don't like that. But these people – people I may come to call friends – are unfazed where others would recoil in horror. They all have scars – that's what both Landon and Cain said. We all have something in common. But still, this is alien to me.

I choose from the boxes carefully. Where to begin when there are so many? There's another box here labelled Sellafield. Inside, the box it full to the brim with documentation. Perhaps I'll begin with these files. I'm curious to see how many more accidents have happened at Sellafield, and have then been conveniently erased from the history books. I pull the box from the shelf and take it to an empty table. My hands hover over the lid of the box, hesitant. My hands shake. Closing my eyes, I take a deep breath and open the lid. Spreading the numerous files across the desk, I brace myself for what I'm about to read.

"Harry?"

I jump out of my skin as a hand grips my shoulder. I turn to see Alison Cain staring down at me. She breaks out into a fit of laughter.

"Sorry. We're all going to the canteen – would you care to join us?"

I look past her and see the others at the door, waiting. And suddenly my fear has returned.

I hesitate, mulling over thoughts. "I'm not hungry."

"You need to eat, Harry. Keep your strength up."

"I'd like to finish reading this."

Cain sighs, glancing back at the others before bending to whisper in my ear. "Don't isolate yourself from us. We're all eager to get to know you."

Again, I hesitate as I think on her words. I sigh. "I want to finish this. I'm a bit of a perfectionist."

Cain looks away before standing to her full height. "If you change your mind...."

I don't turn to look until they're all out the door, then I glance back. I know what you're thinking. What can I say? I've lost my social skills. Try putting yourselves in my shoes.

What I read disturbed me. My accident – the accident that took my parents lives – it wasn't the first. And it wasn't the first time people have been seriously hurt. But it was the first time anyone's died. Again, I read of cover ups, payoffs and backhanders. Gross negligence and ignorance. It disturbs me but it doesn't shock me. Not in the age we live in. Not when everything boils down to money. Prices put on lives, successfully. And for what? And again, I'm back to shame. Shame that a price has been put on life. And the scariest thing, this is only one plant. I haven't gotten to the other files yet. This has been going on for years and we've been blind to it. The very people we trust to make the right decisions, have been fooling us – worse – lying to us for decades. You really can't judge a book by its cover.

"You haven't moved since you started this morning."

I look up from my reading to see Oakley beside me. When I don't reply, he sits on the edge of the desk and glances over the papers I'm reading.

"Ah, Sellafield. Aren't you hungry?"

I shake my head but remain silent. Oakley sighs and glances around the room.

"You know Harry, I meant what I said at the police station – we can help you with your.... problems. But you have to help us do that. Give us chance."

He squeezes my shoulder before moving away. I glance back at him, chewing my bottom lip. I should try – I know I should try, but it's hard. After eight months of isolation, of feeling like this, it's hard.

"So what's your story? Landon said something but said it wasn't her place to say."

"Did she now." He strides back over to me and sits on the desk beside me.

"You all keep telling me to trust you, to open up to you. You already know everything about me, but I know nothing about any of you. How can I trust you?"

He takes a deep breath before pulling up a chair and sitting. "Well, it's a long story. To cut it short, I lost everything that ever meant something to me – my family. My wife. My two children. They were twins – only six years old."

"What happened?"

"They said it was an accident."

Before he can continue with his story, the arrival of the others makes him jump to his feet. He forces a smile for them as they come over but returns to his workstation in silence.

As this day inevitably turns to night, I return to my room to be alone. I made my excuses to the others. They tried their best to talk me into joining them for the film. It would be nice to be around people again, to talk, to laugh. But look at me. I look like a subject from some freak experiment that's gone wrong. I don't need to watch a horror film, I'm already in one. And I'm the monster.

After almost a week of being here, I admit, I'm becoming more comfortable working with these people. I find myself laughing at their jokes and making idle chitchat while we work. The burns aren't stopping them from trying their best to make me feel welcome, a part of the team - they've even told me some of their stories, of how they got their scars. I would like to call them friends, to get to know them, and I know they're keen to get to know me. Still, something is holding me back, something deep inside, so I continue to keep them at arms length. When the work is done for the day, I return to my isolation – no matter how much they protest. Over the last eight months, I've built up my defences pretty well. I learned to shut out the world and the voices around me. I learned to live alone, to lose myself. After so long, it's hard to trust, to open up again. These people see me, the person I used to be. And that's the problem. Because all I see when I look in the mirror, is a monster, a consequence. I have to say, my patience is wearing thin. I'm tired of sitting around reading files when we should be out there doing something.

The files I've read are all the same – just about different plants. The reasons for the accidents are the same - degraded components, out dated and or broken equipment, ignoring the experts to save money. And always the politicians cover up. The word accident is never used. It's always the word, incident. Always the next day, some other scandal hits the headlines and the accident is lost. That's what I've noticed these past few days – every newspaper cutting I read on an accident, the next day it's gone. Celebrity scandals, economic problems or overseas problems always take the front page the very next day. Every time. And the aftermaths are always the same. Payoffs, blind eyes, backhanders, documents lost and most probably destroyed. Threats. This is starting to feel – and look – like a conspiracy. The only difference is, when it first stared in the Cold War, it was about bombs and power. Now it's about money and power. The question is, how far does it go?

"Here's to the new member of the team."

Oakley pops the cork on the Champaign and everyone cheers. We each have a glass, and why not. It's been a long day – it's been a long week, especially for me. I am trying.

"So when are we going actually do something? I came here to make a difference, not to sit around twiddling my thumbs. These files are just circumstantial evidence anyway."

Oakley is suddenly serious. "You took the words right out of my mouth. We need to start getting out there. Inspecting sites, asking the awkward questions and lighting those fireworks. I won't lie – we're all going to have targets painted on our backs."

"So where do we start?" Benedict asks. His accent enthrals me.

"Well...."

I interrupt Oakley. "Sir Lucas Chester. At the police station, I questioned him about other accidents. Asked him if it was just the industry. I seemed to hit a nerve."

Cain nods her head in agreement with me. "She's right. His name does keep popping up in recent accidents."

I think back to the documents I read through and remember something. "It does. Right back to the late sixties."

Oakley rubs his chin. "I think it's time we looked deeper into his background. And yes, let's pay Sir Chester a visit, put some pressure on him. Nice spot you two."

Like I said before, I don't miss anything. Not anymore, not now.

Oakley exhales a tired sigh. "We've all been working exceptionally hard. We're all tired. It's Saturday night, it's late. Monday morning when we're all fresh, we'll hit Chester."

With that, he strides to the door and prepares to exit. He looks exhausted - I know that feeling. The others continue to drink the Champaign and chat. And that feeling returns to me – like butterflies in my stomach. I think it's time for me to take my leave. I finish my drink and carefully place the glass down. I intend to sneak out, but I'm caught.

"Where are you sneaking off to?" Andrew Tate calls out. The others follow his gaze.

I smile. "I'm.... I'm tired."

"We're all tired, Harry." Landon adds, backing up her colleague. "Stay a while, have a drink. You've earned it, you've read more of those archives this week than any of us."

They all mutter their agreement and turn to me. I swallow hard. I feel exposed – all eyes on me. I just can't do this.... socialising thing anymore. Not with the way I look, not with the thoughts in my head.

"I suppose...." I hesitate as that cold sweat returns to the back of my neck. "I am really tired. It's been a long week and I.... I haven't slept much, so...."

They say nothing as I back away and rush from the room. I stop outside the door, my breathing heavy.

"She is so broken. We need to get her to open up to us, to drop her attitude." Tate comments. He's concerned and it's evident in his voice.

Landon sighs. "We don't give up on her. Everyone else has, even her family. She is trying – we've seen that this week."

"She can't see past the burns." Tate comments. "We can. How do we help her do the same?"

"With Harry's stubbornness, that won't be an easy task."

Tate continues. "If she's going to be a part of this team, we need her to open us to us, Caitlin. This is going to turn nasty, real soon."

As they all look to Landon, she looks at each of them before letting out a deep breath. I rush away so as not to be seen as Landon marches towards the door.

"What is it with you, Harry?" Landon asks, glaring down at me.

I stand to confront her. "I'm trying my best."

"Then talk to us, let us in. Drop your defences, Harry. These people are desperate to be your friend but you're making it extremely hard."

"I can't."

"Why not? While we're working, you're a different person. But then, you seem to regress into a shell. You want to be treated normally, to be a part of this team, to fight those scary thoughts of suicide in your head? We can't help you if you don't let us in. I told you when we first met – no one here is going to ridicule you, or judge you."

I turn away. "I'm...." I hesitate. "I am trying."

"I know it's hard."

"No you don't. How could you possibly hope to understand what it's like to be me? Take a good look at me, Captain. How can I force this on those people, on you? You work with me, with this. That's enough. Why expose yourself to this for any longer than you have to? Just go. Stop worrying about me. I'm quite happy on my own."

Landon stares hard at me. She lets out a frustrated breath before looking right into my eyes, into me. "I don't know what else to do with you. They did this to you, not us. We're trying to help you. Maybe Oscar was right. Maybe bringing you here was a bad idea. Maybe you are a lost cause." She shakes her head. She doesn't really believe that. "If you decide you want to talk, Harry, you know where to find me."

"I should have died! Don't you understand that?"

I watch her leave and turn back to the window. It's blowing a gale outside and the rain runs down the glass. I know these people are good men and women. I know in my heart, that they are genuine. It's me – the problem is me. So what do I do now?

"I'm scared."

I stand in the doorway of Landon's room. She turns from the window and the pounding rain of the midnight hour and stares hard at me. She's surprised to see me after the tone of our last confrontation. The others are all asleep. Landon's door was still open and I found myself drawn to her. Ever since I met her, I've felt drawn to her. But I can't explain why.

"Come in and close the door."

I do as she asks and stand before her as she sits on the bed. She motions for me to join her and I powerlessly obey. I daren't look at her so keep my eyes firmly on the floor. This is going to be hard enough, if I had to look in her eyes, I couldn't do it.

"Letting people in, isn't something I've done since this happened." I motion to the burns. "People – they only see the burns. Why should you and the others be any different? I'm scared – the longer I'm around you, the more you'll only see the burns, and not me. That you'll.... see a consequence. That you'll look at me like I'm.... like so many others do. Like I shouldn't be here."

She grabs my wrist. "That won't happen."

"I don't even see me anymore, Caitlin. I look in the mirror and I see a monster." I look up at her and she looks back. "I am trying to fit in, to be.... But there is something, deep inside, I can't control. And it takes me over."

"Just like the rage takes you over," she smiles sympathetically.

I fight the overwhelming urge to burst into tears but a single tear still rolls down my cheek. Landon slips her arm around me as I return my gaze to the floor.

"I don't see me, anymore. I feel like a stranger in my own body. I feel like I don't care anymore. That's why I was numb when that car came at me with...." I can't say any more.

"Harry, I don't know what I can say to you, to make you believe in us, in me. You barely know us, you've been dragged into this, by no fault of your own. Forced to trust us because your choices have been ripped from you. All I can say is, I understand you more than you think, and more than any of the others. Trust me."

"I'm twenty one years old. My parents are gone. The rest of my family and friends have abandoned me. I'll never know what falling in love is like. I'll never have someone to hold me, to tell me that everything is going to be alright. How could you ever understand?"

She freezes at that question. She stares straight ahead at the blank wall opposite, her mouth hanging open as though she wants to speak but the words refuse to emerge. I look up at her and a single tear rolls down her cheek.

"Caitlin?"

Now she looks at me. "I understand. I do."

"How?"

"I can show you."

She drags herself off of the bed and stands with her back to me. Lifting her shirt, she pulls it off, holding it in her hands. And now I understand. From her shoulders, right down to the small of her back, and beyond, a burn just like my own, covers the flesh.

"The only difference, Harry, is that mine is covered by my clothes. I still have to live with it. If I take a lover, I don't get as far as sleeping with them, because when I remove my clothing.... well, it really kills the mood. Because that is all they see. And like you, my family and friends outside the forces, they look at me differently. Like I'm not the woman they once knew. Things just aren't the same when I'm at home. So please, don't tell me I don't or can't understand. Because I do."

I swallow hard, standing. I hesitate as I reach out to touch. I don't know whether I should.

"You and I are more alike than you think," she looks back at me. "You can touch if you want."

I reach out and gently run my fingers over the burn – only the very tips at first. She doesn't flinch at my touch.

"It took me a while to.... accept it. I let my friends in. I talked to them and as I did, it got easier to accept it. I overcome my fear." Again, she looks down at me.

"How did it.... What happened?"

"I was standing right next to a phosphorus grenade when it exploded. Hurt like hell," she laughs. "When I was assigned to this taskforce, I found all my fears returning. Will they accept me? Will they treat me any different? But when I got here, I realised that they would accept me for who I am. Why? Because we all have our own wounds to bear. That's why they're here, that's why we've all been chosen for this job. You're no different, Harry. We have accepted you. All we want is for you to accept us."

"I...."

"I know you've been trying, Harry. Now you've admitted the problem, you can overcome it."

"I.... I need...."

"Help?"

I look up at her and our eyes meet but I say nothing. I don't need to. I don't know how to ask for help anymore. I don't know how to admit that I need help. But Landon – she seems to force these emotions from me. Seems to be able to read me better that I can myself. Maybe that's why I'm drawn to her. And now, after what she's shown me I feel even more drawn to her.

She steps away and pulls her shirt back on before turning to face me. She looks deep into my eyes again and places her hand, gently, on my cheek. My hand hovers above hers before I find myself gripping her hand.

"You've made a start this week, Harry. I'm not saying it's easy, but it will get easier."

"And the thoughts in my head – suicide?"

She bites her lips and looks away for a second. "Those thoughts were caused by their lies. Focus on getting justice."

"I...." I clear my throat and let go of her hand. "I should go. It's late and...." I know at this point, I should turn and exit, but something is stopping me. I appear to be rooted to the spot. My legs refuse to move.

"We're not going to give up on you, Harry. Don't you give up on us, or yourself."

Our eyes meet but I don't reply to her comment. Her smile is warm, soothing. I turn and walk to the door. At the last moment, I turn back to Landon attempt to say... something but no words leave my lips. Again, our eyes meet and we hold each other's gaze for a moment before I walk away. I can't explain it, but I feel connected to this woman. She's able to get inside my head, past all my defences, without even trying. Maybe she does understand how I feel, understands me.

I sit bolt upright, caked in sweat and breathing heavily. I'm still in my clothes from last night. I just dropped onto the bed and stared up at the ceiling. I guess I eventually dropped off. I suppress a shiver.

"Bad dreams?"

I jump. Turning to my right, I see Landon sitting on the edge of the bed. When I don't answer her, she frowns, clearly concerned about me. I jump from the bed and stand with my hands on my hips, with my back to Landon. After calming my breathing, I turn to her. She scans my eyes, scrutinising me, stands and strolls over to me, stopping when there's only inches between us. We're so close I can feel her breath on my skin.

"As it was getting late, I thought I better wake you. Alison's preparing a Sunday roast. It should be ready in an hour."

I hesitate. "Caitlin I.... I don't know if I can."

She doesn't interrupt me or protest. She just stares, hard, right into my eyes. Last night I took the first step, asked for help. They won't judge me, they'll accept me for who I am - that is what she said. I close my eyes and breathe deeply before swallowing hard and nodding.

She reaches out and caresses my cheek. "It'll be alright, Harry. Trust me."

As she strolls back to the door, I bite my lip. "Caitlin." She turns back to me in the doorway. "Does it still hurt you?" At her puzzled expression, I glance nervously around me. "The burn?"

She scowls at my question, scanning me. "N.... no, Harry."

Mine do. Sometimes. At night, with the cold. I realise she's lingering in the doorway and meet her gaze. Without a word, I smile faintly, hoping she'll walk away without questioning me. I breathe a sigh of relief as she marches away.

I stand at the door. It's time but my legs refuse to move, no matter how much I will them to. Again, something's holding me back, rooting me to the spot. I raise my hand to the handle but my fingers refuse to grip. No matter how many deep breaths I take, my heart is racing and my body is hesitating. Sweat lines my forehead and I swallow hard. My breathing deepens but a knock at the door brings me back to reality. Landon is stood, arms folded, waiting.

"I can't do this."

"Yes you can. You've been doing it all week, working with us."

"This is different."

"No, it isn't."

She offers her hand and I stare at it for a moment, hesitant. But eventually, I reach out and take it, and I allow her to lead me towards the canteen where the others wait.

The others are already sat around the table, laughing and joking about Cain's cooking. They turn to greet us as we approach.

"Hey, here they are. About time too, we were about to start without you." Tate laughs.

"I..."

"We lost track of time." Landon interrupts, winking at me. "My fault."

She waits for me to sit first – making sure I can't and don't do a runner. She sits next to me and every so often glances to me, flashing a quaint smile. The others are laughing and chatting but I don't really hear what they're saying. I look at each of them and understand what Landon meant last night. They've accepted me as one of the group. For the first time in eight months, I belong again.

"So Harry, you err, you aren't afraid of food poisoning, are you?" Benedict asks, giving a sly look over his shoulder towards Cain.

"What?"

Landon explains. "First day here, Dale was.... confined to the toilet. Alison's cooking got the blame."

"It was not my food. I am an excellent cook I'll have you know." Alison places the roast in the middle of the table.

"Funny – I was fine until I'd eaten that meal."

They all burst into laughter and I find myself joining in. I find myself relaxing too, dropping my defences – but only slightly.

Diner is surprisingly easier that I'd expected it to be. It's calm and relaxed, fun even. Oakley's missing though. We discuss each other – our passions, our desires, our hopes. We share stories of romance and our childhoods. We drink, laugh and share jokes. When I feel my fear returning, I look over at Landon. She looks back and flashes me that smile, a deep breath and I'm fine again. Not once are the burns mentioned. Something I'm unused to, but it is a relief. A relief, not to be judged or pointed at. But I still feel.... awkward. I just wish I could see what they see in me.

"So Harry, what made you want to work in the nuclear industry?" Benedict asks.

"Err.... my parents. They worked at Sellafield for twenty years." I chuckle. "I suppose you could say, it's in my blood. It was kind of a family joke." At the mention of my parents, the mood seems to change. Of course, they all know what happened to them. They're trying to be respectful, tactful. I'm grateful for that, but I'll surprise them with my next question. "What about you? What made you want to be a nuclear scientist?"

Benedict sighs, dreamful, sitting back in his seat. "Science is my calling."

As he takes the can of coke Cain is holding out to him, she pulls back concealing a playful smile. As he pulls the tab, it explodes in his face, drenching him. We all burst into laughter as he sits there, cola dripping from every part of his head.

He sighs, determined not to show his annoyance. "Alison's calling however, is to be a clown."

With that, he calmly gets to his feet and marches off down the corridor. We all try to curb our laughter as his march turns into a sprint.

On my way back to my room, I passed Oakley's door. He was sat there at the window, nursing a bottle of whisky. He was like a statue, just staring up at the clouds. I moved on in silence.

I understand why they pushed me so hard – if I'm going to a part of this team, I can't keep them at arm's length. We're going to be relying on each other, depending on each other. We can't be a team if one of us is isolating herself. I still feel exposed, under scrutiny, like I'm being judged. I know that's stupid but.... I am at war with myself. And right now, I don't know which side of me is winning.

"So, today we're investigating Sir Lucas Chester. First thing, let's talk to him. Make it a nice, friendly chat. See if we can coax some information from him." Oakley briefs.

"We can always use his nasty little vices against him." I mutter.

"Vices?" Tate looks to me.

"Sex and alcohol." I chuckle as they glance at one another. "I spent months with him. Every night he'd be pissed, with a girl on his arm. Sometimes two."

Oakley clears his throat. "We can use that later, if we have to. Let's not antagonise him before we've even begun."

"We need a name, for the taskforce." Tate bites his finger nail. "To show that we're serious. Something.... people will remember."

I laugh. "How about The Sellafield One."

I sit laughing. Until I realise they're all staring at me.

"I like it. That has a nice ring. And a lot of weight." Tate relaxes in his seat.

As the others mutter and nod their agreement, I chuckle nervously. "Guys, I was joking."

"It would do a lot for our credibility. After all, many already know the story of The Sellafield One – you." Oakley looks directly at me. They all do. "Public and inside support is going to be vital."

I sigh. "The Sellafield One it is then."

FIVE: SIR LUCAS CHESTER

We're on our way to interrogate Sir Chester, we're on our way to his office. As Oakley ordered, we'll keep it friendly. For now. Which means, I'm to let Landon and Tate do the talking – most of it anyway. That could be tricky, I won't lie. His self obsessed arrogance, seems to bring out the demon in me.

His office is in one of those extravagant, high rise towers. All fancy glass and marble floors. The offices inside are furnished with only the very best and most expensive. The occupiers are all hard at work, unconcerned by unfolding events – events that don't even touch these people. Their money keeps them safe from the sometimes harsh realities of life.

We don't have to wait. Despite the protests from his pretty, blonde secretary, we march right into his office. This taskforce has the luxury of being able to just walk straight in and demand attention. We don't care how powerful these people are, we have a job to do. Chester jumps to his feet as we burst through the doors. He's surprised to see me as I linger behind Landon and Tate. Now I let my hood fall. I let the burns speak for themselves and smirk as they have the desired effect on him. He swallows hard, wincing and forcing himself to look away.

"What is the meaning of this?!"

Landon and Tate smirk at each other before looking at him. I don't like this. Something about his manner seem fake to me. It feels like he was expecting us, but obviously he doesn't want us to know that.

"We'd like to have a chat, Mr Chester – sorry, Sir Chester."

"Who are you people? I demand to know who you are."

"You can call us The Sellafield One Taskforce."

Tate elaborates. "We're with the IAEA. As my colleague said, we're just here to talk."

Landon helps herself to a chair, sitting calming ignoring the glare from Chester. Tate copies her movements. I stand back, out of the way.

"Take a seat, Mr Chester." Landon flashes him her most seductive smile.

After flashing me a quick look, Chester swallows and sits. I watch his reaction closely. At the mention of the IAEA, his mood has changed somehow. Suddenly there's fear in his eyes. And he keeps swallowing hard and shifting in his seat. He's nervous, that much is obvious.

"So, how exactly can I help you?" Chester looks put out – this is an inconvenience for him. He's trying to hold his nerve, but it's not an easy task.

Again, Tate answers. "We're leading an investigation into the nuclear industry, specifically, nuclear incidents. We have reason to believe there have been a number of serious cover ups, which seems to point to a conspiracy within the industry."

Chester scoffs. "That's absurd. Cover ups, conspiracy. You sound like some protest party, scaremongering."

Landon takes over at this point. "We are investigating a number of nuclear incidents, Mr Chester, starting with the most recent at Sellafield – given the seriousness of the consequences."

"That was a tragic accident. But it has been thoroughly investigated...."

"Covered up actually." Tate skits.

"And what proof do you have?!"

Landon glares at him – we all do at his outburst. "I'm asking the questions, sir. You facilitated the cover up of the accident at Sellafield nuclear facility, yes?"

She doesn't mince her words – talk about cutting to the chase. He clears his throat and chuckles nervously – though he tries to hide the fact that he's nervous. He doesn't fool me.

"I think I should call my lawyer."

Landon and Tate exchange glances. "Should you? Is that an admission, Mr Chester? Did you cover up?"

"Cover up? It was an accident. Not even that – it was a minor incident. There was nothing to cover up."

"A minor incident, where two people lost their lives. And left another severely injured."

"That was unfortunate. And I did my best to.... help Miss Jenkins." Now he looks directly at me. "Did I not? I dealt with the aftermath yes, but nothing was covered up because there was nothing to cover up."

I scoff. "Nothing to cover up. How about why it happened."

Landon glares at me. "Harry."

"You used me. You forced the public's gaze on me because you didn't want their gaze on the plant. Why don't you tell us why?"

"Harry!" Landon stands.

She shakes her head at me and I glare at her. Nevertheless she holds my gaze and doesn't falter. She has no intentions of letting me continue so I sigh and turn away to stare out of the window at the busy streets below.

"Well, Mr Chester?" Landon turns back to him.

"Well what?"

"Why did it happen? In your opinion?"

He sighs, growing tired with her questions. "I don't know. I'm not a scientist, am I?"

"No, you're a politician with a lot of money invested in the nuclear industry. So common sense tells me that surely, you'd be privy to some information."

When he doesn't answer, Landon glances to Tate and he returns her gaze. Landon continues.

"For instance, you must have been aware of the IAEA's recommendations towards the safety at Sellafield - numerous recommendations about costly improvements, to be carried out immediately."

"If they weren't implemented, that has nothing to do with me!"

"So you did know that Sellafield was deemed as high risk?"

He sighs and slumps back in his chair. He thinks long and hard. "I don't have to answer that."

"Doesn't it fall onto the shoulders of politicians like you, to ensure that these things are safe? That the rules are followed? Politicians after all keep telling us that nuclear is the way forward. Surely you'd prefer an infallible industry to a cut price one marred by accidents?"

"This conversation is over."

"This conversation is over when I say it's over, Mr Chester." She holds his gaze and remains firm. "It's funny – all reports from the recent incident, omit the fact that the IAEA had recently carried out an inspection. Reports also fail to mention the list of recommendations submitted for immediate action – a list which has conveniently disappeared. They also fail to mention the less obvious consequences of the incident. By that I mean, Harriet Jenkins's state of health. Her medical records have been lost.... Along with her parents work records from Sellafield. Our analysts can find no records of her parents ever working there, despite the fact that they had worked there for twenty years. Can you explain that, Mr Chester?"

It doesn't quite sink in - my medical records and my parents records from Sellafield, just gone. I didn't know about that. They've tried to erase all knowledge of my parents. Tried to ignore the deaths, like it never happened, like they didn't even exist. Now I understand why in those eight months, my parents were never mentioned in the press conferences or to the public. I wasn't even allowed time to grieve.

He glares at Landon but she glares back unmoved by him. It'll be interesting to see who breaks first. My money's on him. And I'm right. He blinks and looks away.

"Then I'm right in saying that you, Sir Lucas Chester, covered up. Am I not?"

"I.... You need to leave. I know my rights, I don't have to talk to you."

"We are going nowhere. And not talking is not an option I'm afraid. We have other questions that need...."

"You bastard!" I turn from the window. "You fucking bastard! My parents died because bastards like you didn't want to dip into your wallet. And then you think you can just wipe them away, like they didn't even exist!"

"I've dipped plenty into my wallet! Or have you forgotten who paid for your medical care! I made sure you had a home to go back to, with no mortgage around your neck!"

"You bastard!"

I lunge for him but Landon and Tate hold me back. He retreats behind his desk and pushes a button beneath it. A few seconds later, as Landon and Tate still struggle with me, two bulging security guards sprint in.

"Get these people out of my building! Now!" Chester orders.

As the security guards try to usher us, with some difficulty, from the room, Landon slips past and marches up to Chester. She looks back as a third guard appears in the doorway.

"This is on you, Chester. Do you have any idea what you've done to her? You fucking heartless prick."

"I have nothing more to say to you. Now, I kindly request that you vacate my building."

Landon holds his gaze. "Oh we'll go. But not for long. Don't think for one second that this is over, Chester."

She steps backward, taps Tate on the shoulder and takes hold of my forearm.

"Come on. We'll get nothing more out of him today." I resist but she glares at me and her grip tightens. "Harry."

Reluctantly, I give in. We exit the building calmly, without further comment or clashes.

Back out on the street, as we head to the car, I keep walking. I let the torrential rain soak me right through and ignore the calls from Landon and Tate.

"Harry!"

They both call out to me but I continue to ignore them. They should have told me. They knew, but they let me find out like this. Landon sprints up to me and grabs me, forcing me to stop. I force my way past, pushing her aside.

"Harry, what are doing?"

"I'm going home."

"Harry, you can't."

I turn on her, grabbing her and pushing her away from me. "You should have told me about the records! You said they wanted to hurt me, you didn't say they'd erased all knowledge of my parents! You didn't tell me that they'd just...."

"Harry, we.... we didn't know how to tell you. You had enough to cope with."

"So you let me find out like this! You must have known it would come out!"

"I don't know what to say."

"You gain my trust, drag me into your world.... I didn't ask for any of this. My parents didn't ask...." I shake my head. "I'm not doing this. I'm not."

Landon takes me by my shoulders and forces me to look at her. "Harry, I should have told you. We were wrong, but we were trying to protect you."

"I had a right to know!"

"Please, Harry, don't walk away from us. Help us bring them to justice."

"How can I trust you now?! What else are you keeping from me?!"

"Nothing, I swear. And you can trust us, trust me. Harry, with everything you've been through.... You were already struggling, still are. How could we, I, tell you something like that? You've suffered enough. We were trying to protect you, but we were wrong and I am sorry. You have to believe me."

I run my hand through my now sodden hair and shuffle on the spot. I don't know what to do. Should I continue to trust them, to put my life in their hands? What else can I do? My parents deserve justice – now more than ever. This taskforce will be the best chance of delivering that. So I guess I don't have a choice. I sigh and turn back to Landon. I nod and allow her to escort me back to the car.

"Answer me one thing, Caitlin. The reports – the ones released to the public after the accident – did they mention my parents, at all?"

She turns and stares at me for a long time. She doesn't answer. Instead, she shakes her head. So now I know the real reason Chester was keeping such a close eye on me - so that I didn't read the papers or open my mouth about my parents. Now, everything I've been through over these months makes sense.

"No deaths were reported. Only you were mentioned – even then, your condition was kept hidden from all public reports. Now you understand why you were a target, and why we approached you. You deserve the truth and your parents deserve justice."

"I don't understand how they did it. How do you just cover up deaths? How do you just.... erase people, like they didn't ever exist?"

"That's the clever but surprisingly easy part, making documentation disappear. As for the bodies.... there were no bodies."

"And the rest of my family – did they just pay them off too?"

"They played on the rift in your family." I look directly at her and she falters slightly. "We know, Harry. Everything. You weren't a very close nit family...."

"So money is thicker than blood now." I mutter, not really directed at anyone but myself.

"Harry...." Landon takes my hand in hers and squeezes. "I should have told you, but.... how do you tell someone, something like this? Especially when they've already been through, so much?"

"Why did they do it?"

Landon glances at Tate in the driver's seat and he quickly returns her gaze. Looking back at me, she struggles to speak.

"Why does anybody ever do anything? That's something you'll have ask the politicians and the men in charge."

"I want to kill them. I want...."

When we finally arrived back at the complex, I came silently to my room. I didn't feel like talking with the others. I'm going to be honest, I don't know if I can take much more. I'm starting to wish I'd jumped into that river \- almost. There's a saying, isn't there? What you don't know can't hurt you. They've ruined my life, taken my parents from me and then.... then they make it look like it never happened. My parents didn't die at Sellafield because, according to their records, they were never there in the first place. And these are the people we trust on this.... fucking planet to do the right thing.

"Are you alright?"

I give Landon a quick glance as she stands in the doorway but remain silent. She looks to the floor for a second before closing the door and moving towards me. She sits on the bed next to me and we sit together in silence. I don't look at her, I stare at the wall opposite. Eventually, I hear her sigh.

"That was a stupid question – of course you're not alright."

"I interrupted you back there, I'm sorry. You had other questions...."

"It doesn't matter."

She looks to me and slips her arm around my shoulder, pulling me to her in comfort. And for the first time in eight months, I cry. I mean, I really cry. Tears and sobbing, like I've never done before. And she holds me to her, tight.

"Why wasn't it me? It should have been me. Why did I survive? Sometimes, I wish...."

"Don't say it, Harry. Don't."

"But it should have been. I was right there. Right there.... and...."

She takes my head in her hands and forces me to look at her, right into her eyes.

"Don't you dare, do this. This is not what your parents would want."

I grip her hands and we continue to stare into each other. A current passes between us as we look deep into each other's eyes. We're so close now, I can feel her breath on my skin and I am certain she can feel mine on hers. Time seems to be still as we remain in this embrace. Her hands are so delicate on my skin. I find myself feeling things, I haven't felt in a long time. And I'm sure, those feelings are mutual. The way she looks at me, her touch. I, somewhat unsure, reach out slowly to touch the warm flesh of her cheek. My fingers hover for a second before finally making gentle contact. To my surprise, she doesn't flinch – even though I touch with my burned hand. Even more of a surprise, she wraps her arms around mine never, even for a second, losing eye contact. My heart is beating so fast, I'm lost to this woman's touch, breath. I want nothing more than to.... She seems to be... willing me to do so. But no. I clear my throat and pull away, standing. She appears hurt by my rejection – the look in her eyes as she stands.

I should say something but my throat is so dry. "I err.... We should get Lucas at his home. Confront him there. Threaten to tell his wife about his.... dirty little secrets."

And now I am sure she is hurt by my rejection. She stands there, just staring. And without a word, she turns and exits.

I didn't want to reject her. I wanted nothing more than to.... But how can I? No one could ever love me now, surely? Or am I mistaken? Could she genuinely...? No. No I won't do this. I refuse to do this – fall for someone, give in to my desires. I'm not that person anymore.

The briefing this morning was short. There was no need for a long winded speech - we know what we have to do. Same as yesterday, we question Sir Lucas Chester. This time though, we're going to his home. We should get there before he does. We can have a nice little chat with his wife. Caitlin.... Landon thought I should sit this one out after recent revelations. But no. No, I want to look him in the eyes. I want answers, the truth. I want to know why.... I didn't sleep much last night. I kept thinking about my parents and Caitlin. We got pretty close last night – her and I. Anyway, I told her I was tagging along, whether she liked it or not. I have a right to answers, to the truth.

He has a nice home. Posh. Well kempt. Double glazing and cladding up the white brickwork. The roof tiles are a deep red – reminds me of blood. Beautiful garden – freshly cut grass with rose bushes and a small pond. Of course, the bushes aren't in bloom but still. The pond has a fountain in the centre – water flows from its three stone levels and a little cherub with a bow sits on the top. The path and driveway are coble stoned – jet washed every week. A high gate at the end of the driveway leads to the back garden. The lone car on the drive tells us that only his wife is at home.

We march to the front door, Landon leads. His wife is a real stunner. Petite with very long, blonde hair – it looks like silk as it catches the sun's rays. Her eyes are a hazel and compliment her full, ruby lips. I notice something else too – she's younger than him, much younger. At the very least, ten years. Lucas really is a pig. He's got a beautiful woman like this at home, but he'd rather shag anyone but her.

"Mrs Chester, we're with The Sellafield One Taskforce – with the IAEA. My name is Captain Landon, these are my colleagues. We're here to see your husband."

"He's not home yet."

"We know. Can we come in? We'd like to talk to you first."

"Oh err... of course, come in."

I can hear kids playing in the back garden as she steps aside to allow us entry. The interior of their home is just as nice as the outside. Clean, tidy – and with kids that's no easy fete. It's beautifully decorated in soft pastel colours. She leads us into the sitting room which looks out onto the patio and back garden. They have a barbeque and there's a fireplace in here – a real one too. Chester's two children – two boys – play in the garden. They scream and shout as they tease each other with worms and snails. I leave my hood up, covering the burns. I don't want to scare her, and especially not the children should they decide to come back inside. Mrs Chester invites us to sit. Landon and Tate do, I stand at the window.

"So... you said you were from the...."

Landon finishes for her. "We're with the IAEA. We're a taskforce investigating a series of incidents at multiple nuclear plants in the UK. We have reason to believe that there is an ongoing cover up."

"Cover up? What's that got to do with my husband?"

"What does he tell you of his work, Mrs Chester?"

She scoffs. "Not much.... I mean, this is his home. And he doesn't bring his work home. I won't allow it. It's not good for the boys."

"How do you mean?" Landon's eyes narrow.

She stumbles. Clearly, things in the Chester household are not as hunky dory as he would have people believe. Mrs Chester swallows hard, glancing towards the boys in the garden.

"Politics. Its poison. He comes home late, often in a bad mood. He's got no time for the boys anymore. Let alone me."

Landon and Tate glance to each other before Landon clears her throat.

"What do you know about the incident at Sellafield?"

"Not much. Minor incident. One casualty, no serious and no fatalities."

I turn from the window. "Is that what he told you?"

"Harry." Landon glares at me in warning.

I sigh inwardly and turn back to the view. Landon and Tate exchange a look before she addresses Mrs Chester once more.

"Your husband dealt with the aftermath, didn't he?"

"Yes, he was charged with handling the public and press. Spent most of the time with a girl.... Jenkins something. I forget. She was from the site I think – the injured party."

"Did your husband spend any time on the site itself?"

"No.... no wait, yes he did. He called me from there, a day or so after the incident. Said he wouldn't be home, that he had business to take care of that would take a while."

Again, Landon and Tate exchange looks.

"What sort of business?"

Mrs Chester scoffs once more. "Like I said, he doesn't tell me anything. I'm lucky if he even bids me a good morning these days. I love him, but sometimes, I really wish I could divorce the.... swine."

"What can you tell us about his business associates and trips?"

"He gets a call from his friends in governments and he jumps. I get a kiss on the cheek – sometimes – and he disappears."

"Why can't you?" I turn back to face her and drop my hands from their folded position across my chest. "Divorce him, I mean? You love him but he treats you like shit."

"As always, it's not that simple. And I don't think that is any of your business."

Landon follows my line. "What is your marriage like?"

"Like I said, that is none of your business."

She's clearly naive. It's obvious she oblivious to his vices of sex and drink. Landon isn't easily put off a subject.

"Is he prone to anything? Drugs? Drink? Women?"

"What are you suggesting?"

"I'm not suggesting anything, Mrs Chester. I'm just trying to build a picture. After all, your husband is a major card in our investigation."

"Clearly, from our conversation, your marriage is having problems." Tate adds.

"The problem in my marriage is that he cares more about his work than his family."

I scoff. "Yeah right."

She glares up at me. "My marriage is not up for discussion and I refuse to discuss it further. In fact, I think I'd like you to leave."

Landon sits back on the sofa, making herself comfortable. "Mrs Chester, we do need to speak with your husband. And like it or not, we're going nowhere until we've done just that."

At that, the front door slams shut and the figure of Sir Chester looms into view in the doorway. Landon keeps her eyes firmly on Mrs Chester, a sly smirk hugging her lips. Again, something tells me his shock is faked. Maybe it's just me.

"Ah, Sir Chester or is it Lucas – can I call you Lucas? We were just having a nice chat with your wife. You're late. You dark horse."

Now she looks up at him and he swallows hard. He's surprised to see us. He thought he'd got rid of us.

"What are you.... doing here?"

Landon grimaces pulling herself to her feet to look into his eyes. "I told you it wasn't over, Mr Chester. Not by a long shot. We still have questions that need answers," she smirks. "We've just been having a nice chat with your wife here. I wonder - does she know about your pretty blonde secretary?"

His wife glares at him. "You said you didn't have a secretary."

They all stare at each other for a long time before he clears his throat and moves past Landon. He looks to the garden where his children still play, oblivious. Finally, after pulling a hipflask from his jacket pocket and taking a swig, he looks to his wife.

"Sylvia, why don't you go and see to the children. Please. While I talk to these.... people."

Landon laughs. "People – that's real charming."

His wife gives him a curious look. I can't read it. I don't like that. But she does as he asks, leaving quickly and closing the glass door behind her. He turns back to us, his face like thunder. His eyes burn with rage.

"How dare you come to my home?"

"We want answers to our questions."

"I've told you all I know already. I know nothing more."

"Really. Then perhaps you could tell us what you were doing, on site at Sellafield, a day or so after the accident."

"Incident."

"Accident, Mr Chester. Answer the question."

"I wasn't on the site. I've been nowhere near the site since the incident. In fact, if memory serves, last time I was on the Sellafield site was a good ten, twelve months before the incident. You can check with the site controllers."

Landon half chuckles as her and Tate exchange a glance. "That's funny - your wife said she got a call from you, while you were on site at Sellafield, a day or so after the accident."

"Well she's mistaken. She's.... she's mistaken. Her memory isn't what it was."

"Really? At her age?"

"Why have the records of my parents twenty years at Sellafield been erased?" I look up at him, trying desperately to keep my temper in check.

"I don't know. Admin error perhaps."

Landon shakes her head. "Or perhaps, erased so their deaths could be erased. Just like that list of IAEA recommendations."

"Maybe you should look closer to home! If the IAEA considered it high risk, why didn't they.... close it down, made sure themselves that those improvements were carried out?"

"Why don't you tell us?"

"Look, this is ridiculous. You have no right to harass me here. This is my home."

"Lovely home. Lovely wife. You know, you should treat her better. Does she know? About your.... nasty habits? I think she could do a whole lot better. Same as the kids. After all, what kind of role model are you? A cheating alcoholic."

"How dare you!"

"How dare you, Sir Chester? You're in this up to your neck and you know it. And we know it. But if you help us, answer our questions, give us the names of the ones who are in it deeper than you and this'll go away. You can go back to your cushy little life. You'll never hear from or see us again."

"You're pathetic."

Landon scoffs. "We're pathetic. Take a look in the mirror. We're not the ones lying. We are not the ones spitting on her parents graves," she nods to me. "You should be ashamed of yourself. What is it really, Chester? What are you afraid of?" She smiles and glances to me and Tate. "You know what, maybe I am wrong. Maybe you're not just a middleman. Maybe you are the ringleader. Top dog. The one running the whole conspiracy."

"I refuse to stoop to your level."

"Why were you at Sellafield, a day or so after the accident? A time when, as far as the IAEA can see, you had no valid reason to be there."

"I don't have to discuss this any further. I want you out of my home. You have no right to be here."

"Yes, we do, Sir Chester. Because what we're doing, is fighting for a safer nuclear future. And we'll only get that when men like you are stopped."

"Men like me?"

"Men who put profit before lives." Landon scoffs as she glares at him, her eyes burning. "If you don't want to talk about Sellafield, then how about Sizewell? Or Dungeness? No? Then how about Chapelcross or Torness? We have a long list, Chester. When you look deep enough, it's a whole book of corner cutting, cover ups – including cover ups where the staff have been threatened - and 'incidents'."

"I refuse to comment. Anymore questions, you can go through my legal team. Now get out!"

"We know you're involved, we know you've covered up other so called incidents – we have evidence."

"Rubbish! Now I won't tell you again – get out!"

It's clear we're not going to get anything more out of him. At least not for the moment, but we won't give up.

"Have a nice evening, Mr Chester. It looks like there could be a storm brewing."

At that we march out. I and Tate follow Landon. She has a sly smirk on her face. We've hit him where it hurts.

Back at the complex, we sit in the canteen, talking about our conversations with Sir Chester.

"If we apply a bit more pressure, he'll crack." Tate comments.

Oakley grimaces. "That could be dangerous. He's a powerful man and if he is in deep...," he takes a deep breath. "We're going to have play this very carefully with him."

"We could leave him alone for a bit. Try to dig deeper into his background. Let him feel safe." Landon suggests, sitting back in her chair. "And maybe we should look closer to home. You have to ask, why didn't the IAEA push harder?"

"He was there – at Sellafield. His wife told us that." I mutter, again fighting with the rage inside of me.

They all fall silent at stare at me. None of them know what to say to me given recent revelations about my parents. Indeed, I've been like a bear with a very sore head since they came to light.

Oakley clears his throat. "Then we should pay a visit too. Look around the site, ask a few questions. See if any of the staff remember him and if they do, why was he there? Who did he speak to? And was he there alone?" He pauses to take a swig of coffee and another deep breath. "Let's make it an official visit – the whole complex, Windscale, Calder Hall etcetera. And let's try and get on site over the next couple of days. As you say, we'll leave Chester alone. Let him cool off – let him get comfortable. I'll talk to my contacts, see what I can pull up from his files."

As the others disperse, I stare at the blank wall opposite me. I'm lost in a daydream until Landon touches my shoulder and I jump. She chuckles and steps back.

"Sorry." She pulls over a chair and sits close to me. I swallow hard at her nearness. "You did well today, keeping your temper in check."

"Yeah well, I didn't want to lose it in front of the kids."

"Do you have a problem with us, Harry, with me? You seem.... angry."

"I'm entitled to be angry, don't you think? They erased all knowledge of my parents and you kept that from me. You should have told me. I had a right to know."

"I know you did and I'm sorry. There are only so many times I can apologise to you, Harry. I – we – were trying to protect you." She closes her eyes and rubs them before glancing towards the others. "Last night...."

"What about last night?"

I glare at her and she doesn't finish her sentence. Her mouth hangs open but no words escape. I know what she wants to say but I won't let her. I won't let her get that close to me. It's best if she doesn't. For her sake. Eventually she blinks and looks away.

"Nothing. It doesn't matter."

She stares at me and I stare back, my gaze firm. She reaches over to clasp my hand but I pull it away.

"Is there anything else I should know, Caitlin? Anything else you've neglected to tell me?"

She looks hard into my eyes. It's a look I can't describe. It's almost as if, she has something else to tell me but something's stopping her. She breaks eye contact and swallows the lump in her throat. "No."

I keep coming back to the beginning of my story. That feeling of shame. It's hard to feel anything other. These people call themselves human. But there is nothing human about this, what they've done. And I find myself losing faith. Faith in the powers that be. Faith in the system. Faith in people. See, these people here might be good, honest. But they kept things that I had a right to know, from me. So, at this point, I refuse to apologise for repeating myself, for the using the same words over and over. Showing the shame is better than releasing the rage. So shame on them, bastards who cover up so easily. And shame on you for believing them so willingly.

SIX: CALDER HALL

This will be my first visit to Sellafield since the accident. Given the scale of the task and the size of the Sellafield site, we've timetabled three days. That should give us plenty of time to go over everything and question the staff. We've booked into a hotel in the nearby town of Seascale, that way we don't lose any time travelling to and from the site. This thing first started in '57 with the Windscale fire, so we'll start with the Windscale Pile and Calder Hall. If you ask me what I'm feeling right now, the honest answer is I don't know. How would you feel? That place took everything from me. Actually, as we get closer, I know exactly what I feel, what I'd like to do. But if I tell you, it would freeze the blood in your veins.

One hour after the taskforce has checked into its hotel, Landon is summoned to see Oakley. He stands at the window, looking down over the beautiful seaside town of Seascale. But he's concerned. His mind is fevered. And as usual, it's about Harry. He sips from the glass of whisky that is clutched in his left hand as he confers with Landon.

He gulps the remainder of his whisky back in one. "I don't think this is a good idea – Harry being back at Sellafield. I think perhaps, we should have confined her to desk duties. Going over the archives again, making sure there's nothing we've missed."

"I disagree. She knows the site, the staff. They might be more willing to talk to her."

"Caitlin, I saw the look in her eyes today. And it terrified me. She's volatile and you know it."

Landon sighs. Oscar's right. She does lose control so easily. She's heard Harry being compared to a volatile reactor, many times in her six month observation of her.

Oakley continues. "She hasn't come to terms with what's happened to her. She is going to be facing the reality as soon as she steps onto that site, Caitlin. It's going to come up and slap her in the face."

"I'll handle her."

"And what if you can't?"

"Oscar, she's not dangerous."

He raises an eyebrow. "Really?"

"Yes. We can't give up on her. Christ Oscar, she is twenty one years old. Think how you'd feel in her shoes."

"I've been in her position, remember. But I am responsible for the safety of this taskforce and its operatives. We already have targets on our backs. We can't afford to be easy targets."

"We lied to her, Oscar! And we're still lying to her, aren't we?"

He sighs and looks right into her eyes. "No one is giving up on Miss Jenkins. But I am concerned about her state of mind - even more so being back at Sellafield."

"No, you're afraid the full truth will come out."

At that, Landon turns on her heels and marches to the door. Before she can exit, Oakley calls her back.

"I lie to protect her, Caitlin. At this stage of our investigation, we can ill afford volatile reactors."

Landon holds his gaze for a moment before exiting. Oakley rubs his chin and turns back to the view of Seascale, lost in contemplation.

DAY ONE – WINDSCALE PILE.

Do you know why this place was build originally? It wasn't about money or cheaper electricity. It was about bombs. They needed Plutonium for the Atom bomb. So, in 1947 when the British Government confirmed its commitment to building Britain's very own nuclear bomb, this place was commissioned. And of course, it was their fault too - the infamous fire on the 10th October 1957. They needed more Plutonium, faster. So they took away the safety features, cutting back on the Aluminium fins that surrounded the fuel. A fatal decision. But of course, the men on the ground, the operators, the ones who actually battled Windscale – they got the blame. Why doesn't that surprise me? The men at the very top never want to take responsibility, do they? The Windscale piles – you can't miss them. The tall chimneys, just rising into the heavens. Decommissioning began in the 90s. It's not expected to finish until, at least, 2037.

The Sellafield complex is enormous. It's impressive at first sight – all the hustle and bustle. Some areas are in the process of being decommissioned, others are busy reprocessing nuclear waste. Sellafield itself is actually a reprocessing site, but there are all sorts of different plants, all doing different but vital jobs. We'll get to them later \- first we're heading for the Windscale Pile. You can see the Sellafield railway station from here. Nuclear waste can and usually is brought into the reprocessing plants using this railway. It's an interesting sight when the freights pull in – well, if you're new here. Over time, you get used to it. You know, my parents used to tell me they felt a sense of pride coming to work in a morning. They gave this place twenty years of their lives. And now they're here for good. But I wonder if they'd still feel that pride, if they knew the truth. If they knew about the cover ups, about what the politicians have done to them in death.

Again, I find myself in awe of this taskforce and its authority. How they always get their own way. We say jump, they say how high. The scientists want a complete free reign of the Windscale piles today, so they get it. The decommissioning stops and everyone except us, clears out. We have the place to ourselves. It has to be done – we don't want anyone who may have ulterior motives, interfering.

"Do we really need to be so.... brash?" I ask.

"Given the serious nature of our investigation, yes. We can't afford to be polite. We must show that we mean business." Oakley answers as we walk up to the entrance of the Windscale plant. "Unfortunately, good manners are flushed down the toilet." As we stop a few feet from the entrance, he turns to face us. "Landon, Tate I want you stay here. Don't let anyone in, contaminating our investigation. If you have to use force, then so be it. But do try to keep your weapons holstered."

Was that another one of his jokes? Because if it was, it's not funny.

I could have stayed with Landon and Tate but I like to keep on the move. Standing around waiting doesn't appeal to me. Oakley went off with Benedict so I'm with Cain. I know enough but I'm not a scientist - certainly not a nuclear one. So I keep quiet while she carries out her checks. To you, this might seem a pointless waste of time. The Windscale piles were shut down a long time ago after all. But this is where it all started - in here. The very first cover up. Twenty, fifty three – that's where the fire started, channel twenty fifty three. Besides, I find this interesting. The whole nuclear process. Power, reactors, reprocessing, decommissioning – it's fascinating. It's the future – so we're told.

"They reduced the Aluminium."

I look up at Cain and she turns to me, a smile lighting up her face. She's at home here. This is her natural habitat and she loves it. It's like she read my mind, knew exactly what I was thinking.

"To produce more Plutonium quicker, they reduced the Aluminium surrounding the fuel. A disastrous mistake. More risk of a fire starting because of the enormous heat produced. And indeed, a fire did start."

I decide to show off my own knowledge of that night and this installation. I might be young but I'm not a kid. "It didn't help that they carried out a second Wigner release."

"You know about Wigner? But can you explain it to me?"

I chuckle. "I can actually. Heat the graphite core to a higher temp than normal, the stored energy will be safely released."

She laughs. "Very good. Very good indeed."

"The reactor was cooled by air. Cutting off the air killed the fire. But the filters failed."

"Cockcroft's Folly's. Yes, they failed to stop the radiation spreading over the land - in particular, Iodine-131."

"That's why they destroyed the milk for about a month after."

She stops her work and looks directly at me. She's clearly impressed. She says nothing. It's almost as if she's waiting, expecting more information.

"This is where this all started. That night. The workers get the blame but in reality, the politicians are the ones to blame. All so we could build the bomb."

"That's also why Calder Hall was built - for the Hydrogen bomb. To make more Plutonium. Although, that's not what the public was told."

Of course, Windscale wasn't done. The third unit wasn't shut down until '81. But in 1962, the Windscale AGR – that's Advanced Gas Cooled Reactor – was complete. An AGR is a second generation reactor, supposedly better than the Magnox reactors - safer. Supposedly. It's decommissioned now but still used to demonstrate the safe decommissioning of reactors. After working with this taskforce, and after my own little.... encounter with the hidden face of nuclear power, I find myself questioning, is any reactor safe? I suppose the answer to that is, there are always risks you can't eliminate. But then I ask, surely, the money would be better spent exploring safer methods - liquid fuel reactors? Surely if the scientists are right, if they prove to have less risk than other designs, isn't that the future we should be heading for? Instead of going backwards as we seem to be?

Job done, we head back to entrance where the others are already waiting. We walk out in silence. We don't talk or discuss anything with the site operators. After all, we don't know who we can and can't trust. That's why we started with Windscale today and Calder Hall tomorrow. To them, it's just a routine inspection of the complex. Nothing to talk about. That way, they can't forewarn anyone who might want to cover anything up.

Back at the hotel, we all meet in Oakley's room for the debrief. I stand at the door, I want to be the first one out. Things seem to be coming to the surface again - nightmares mostly, vivid flashbacks. As soon as I stepped foot onto that site, I was back. My first day. My parents. Then that explosion and a.... feral scream. Although I surprised myself. I could feel my rage bubbling, like a raging volcano but somehow I kept it down. Day three will be the real test. That's when I'll be needed. I'll be confronting the very people I worked with, people who I thought were good friends of my parents and hoped to be my friends.

Oakley clears his throat. "Tomorrow, Calder Hall. They have no idea that this is not just a normal inspection. Day three will be when things get interesting. Alison and Dale, you'll have free reign over the sites you wish to inspect. Primarily, I want to know if Mr Chester was on site after that accident and if so, why."

Alison looks up from her notebook. "There are few areas we'd like to check. After the 2005 leak, I'd like to check the THORP plant. The radioactive waste stores and dirty thirty – err, the B30 waste pond," she blushes." "Also, the MOX plant, given that it was only recently closed."

"What about the plant where my accident happened? Where my parents ashes now lay."

They all look directly at me. I can feel their eyes burning into me. There's something they're not telling me. I can see it in their eyes, but I can figure out what they're not saying. I think I'm about to find out. Dale Benedict clears his throat. Oakley subtly attempts to silence him but fails. His own voice dry and silent, all he can do is glare at Benedict. So now I know there's something else they've hidden from me.

"There's no need. We've already got those reports. One of Oscar's contacts smuggled us copies of numerous classified reports, including the original inspection report created six months before the acc...," he stops. He swallows hard as he realises his mistake.

He doesn't need to continue, I can read between the lines.

"Something else you neglected to tell me. Forget the IAEA, this taskforce knew, you all knew. And did nothing."

"You weren't supposed to find...."

"No, I bet I wasn't." I glare at them all individually. I can see the guilt in their eyes. "I'm supposed to be a part of this team. I'm supposed to trust you. You're all as bad as the bastards covering up."

"What's the point in repeating things you already know?" Oakley voice is soft but firm. "This is about weeding out information. Names, facts, truth. Getting to the bottom of the conspiracy."

"No. No this taskforce knew what was about to happen. You chose not to act on what you knew. And that means you know more about what's happening to me than I do. Oh there is a conspiracy at work here, and maybe I was right, you are a part of it."

I say nothing more. I turn my back on them and exit, though I stop just outside to listen.

"We shouldn't have kept things from her, Oscar." Landon's voice rings out. "She had a right to know. I told you that at the start of this."

The others remain silent for a long time. They need my trust, but keeping certain things from me may have just lost them that trust - trust that they struggled to gain in the first place.

Alison speaks now. "We should have told her about her parents, admitted how much we knew – before and after the accident. Because let's face it Oscar, we could have prevented that accident if we'd wanted. We could have gone in there as we are now. That girl's parents would still be alive and she would still have a long, healthy life ahead of her. Now we might have just lost her."

Does this story seem as chaotic to you as it does to me? Does it make sense? Because nothing makes sense to me anymore. And I'm the one living this. But then, I suppose that's life, isn't it? Chaos, confusion, wavy lines instead of straight. If they knew, and this taskforce knew, why didn't they stop it? They say they have a lot of weight, friends in high places, support, but they did nothing. So I find myself wondering, am I here, only, out of guilt?

DAY TWO: CALDER HALL.

The journey onto the site today was fractious. The air was blue with the tension. Again, I join Cain, alone, as she carries out her inspection. Like Landon, I feel more trust for her. I don't know. I can't describe or understand it. We're inside Calder Hall today. Four reactors – Magnox. Generation here ceased in 2003. The infamous cooling towers no longer exist, so nothing to see. Again, built to build bombs. Always about the bomb – it was back then anyway. Now it's about money. Now we're all friends again. As I mentioned yesterday, the public wasn't told that. No, this place was connected to the National Grid. Cheaper electricity, they said. Officially opened by Queen Elizabeth the second on the 17th October 1956. At least Calder Hall was a closed system – no chimneys to spew out radiation.

"You know, Harry, I and Caitlin did agree that you should be told everything. It was Oscar's idea to keep certain things from you. He did it for your... sanity. He thought, we all thought that you'd been through enough."

"You could have stopped it. Your little taskforce could have done something. You chose not to."

"It wasn't that simple."

"Bollocks. This place took everything from me. I don't even know what's going to happen to me. Do you?" I scoff. "Of course you do. You have your little spies, connections at the very top. They said they didn't know, but clearly that was a lie, wasn't it?"

"Harry...." She stares at me but doesn't or can't finish what she wants to say. She knows. I can see it.

"Don't you think I have a right to know? You said it yourself - you don't want to keep things from me."

"I have seen the medical reports, your test results. I spent some time going over them. And I'm sorry I kept that from you. We were trying to protect you."

"See, I didn't ask to be protected. I didn't ask to be lied to or mollycoddled. I just.... I only want the truth. I've had enough of people lying to me, Alison. Of people thinking they're protecting me, when in fact, they're just hurting me more."

She looks into my eyes and swallows hard. "We should move on. We have a lot to get through."

"Tell me what is going to happen to me, Alison?"

"As I said, we should move on. Time is.... of the essence."

"So still you chose to lie to me."

She sighs. "We didn't lie to you. With your.... state of mind, we protected you."

"I don't want to be protected."

I barge past. She struggles to keep up with my pace.

As we continue on with the inspection in silence, I find my anger softening. I understand they were trying to protect me, but I didn't ask them to. I know the truth hurts, but I'm already in pain, so it couldn't have hurt much more. I know they're not a part of this conspiracy. That was just.... rage and said out of spite. They are good people. But I have to wonder if there is anything else. When I asked Landon if there was anything else, she said no. There was nothing else they were keeping from me. So how would you feel if you were me? I find I've lost my interest in this place. Just more dark corridors with pipes, different rooms but uniform. She carries out her inspection, making quick scribbles on her notepad. Most of the time, she plays with the Geiger counter. Like I said, I'm not really taking much notice. My mind is preoccupied.

As we stop in the control room of Calder Hall for Alison to scrawl her notes down onto paper, I sit in one of the seats with my head in my hands.

"It hurts, sometimes. There's a burning and a tingling. I shouldn't be able to feel it down my burned side, but I do."

She looks up from her work to stare directly at me.

"Last night, all night, I could feel it. It felt like I was lying on a bed of nuclear flames. Even the cold water couldn't soothe my skin, settle me." I look up at her. "Please, Alison. Tell me the truth. You've seen my test results, my reports. Is there anything, you can do? Even just to take the pain away?"

With a sigh, she throws her notepad onto the worktop before resting against it. "You want the truth? The blunt, honest, un-sugar coated truth? Ok. No. There is nothing myself, Dale or any doctor can do for you - no matter how experienced or how good they are. There's no pain relief that will work. There are no cures, as yet, for what is happening to your body. You're dying, very slowly. Your cells are degrading. As for a time scale – there is no way of knowing, accurately, of how long you will live. You see, everyone is different. Our systems work very differently. The stronger you are, the longer you might be able to fight and therefore live. All you can do, is delay the inevitable. Harry, you should not have lived in the first place – that's the honest answer. You should have died."

"It is going to kill me?"

She doesn't reply. Instead, she just stares at me and her eyes say it all. Then, then she nods.

"Answer me one last thing, will it hurt? Will it be....? I mean...."

"Your death is likely to be very lingering and painful. Possibly even, taking days. You would feel.... you will suffer until the very end. Pain relief won't be effective. You'll become very sick in a very short space of time. Violent vomiting, headaches etcetera. You'll become bedridden as it progresses. You won't be able to do anything for yourself. You'll lose control of all functions - bladder, bowels etcetera. Every movement, touch, is likely to be.... painful. I'm afraid your death won't be very dignified."

She begins to describe, in horrific detail, what my death will be. And I mean horrific detail. So graphic I can't bring myself to repeat the words. And it's like she's speaking from a mile away, though she's only feet away from me. What she describes is.... disturbing to say the least.

I swallow as I realise she is staring oddly at me. "How long will take? Before it'll be over?"

"I don't know, Harry. I really don't. It could take a matter of hours or.... it could take days."

"So I would have been better off dying alongside my parents then?"

"Harry...."

I stand. "That was a rhetorical question."

As I brush past, she grabs my arm to stop me. There's desperation in her eyes and voice.

"Harry, scientists make breakthroughs every day. With the right tests and equipment, we could....."

My gaze stops her before she can continue. "I don't want to wait for a miracle cure that will never arrive. And you shouldn't play with my hopes, Alison. Don't you even dare." I pull free to exit before turn back to address her one more time. "Promise me, you won't tell the others about this. Promise me, Alison."

"The others should know, Harry. No more secrets, right?"

"Promise me! It's my life. I decide if and when I tell them. I have that right, don't I?"

She looks deep into my eyes and nods. She knows I'm right.

"I promise. I won't say anything."

There's nothing left to say on this matter. I'm going to die, and no one and nothing can stop that. I hold her gaze for a second longer before turning and marching from the room. I need some air. And I need to think. Alone. I always knew this was coming but I.... Maybe I should have jumped into that river.

"I thought you were with Alison."

I look up, roused from my thoughts, to see Landon standing, hands on hips, in front of me. I'm sitting on a slap of concrete a bit away from the plant. I've been here a while, I don't know how long. My skin is numb with the cold. When I don't answer, she sits beside me.

"Harry...."

"Don't. Just don't, Caitlin."

"I wanted to tell you the full truth but Oscar...."

"I've just heard all this from Alison. So don't."

She goes to say something but I glare at her. My eyes say the words for me – quiet - so she closes her mouth and we sit together in silence. We sit watching and listening to the life of the Sellafield complex. The workers that scurry about, the sounds of alarms and vehicles. The operating plants, meticulous in their work. The plane in the distance, carrying unsuspecting passengers, heading for.... somewhere. Eventually I find my voice has returned, so I half turn to confront Landon.

"You lied to me." As she stares right at me in puzzlement, I stare back, cold and hard. "Just after I found out about my parents, I asked you if there was anything else I should know. You said no. But you must have known this would come out. I mean it had to, right? One slip of the tongue – that's all this was. You knew what was going to happen here, but you did nothing. You sat back and watched. Why? So that you could prove your point? Prove that there really is a conspiracy? You let two people die and me.... just so you could be sure that you were right."

"Well at the time, we weren't so...."

"Bullshit. I've seen your archives remember. You know, I'd started to trust you. I was even starting to feel like I belonged, but now.... now I don't know who to trust or what to believe."

She says nothing. She knows I'm right, and probably agrees.

"Was it guilt? Bringing me in, making me a part of the team?"

"No."

"I'm going to ask you one more time. If you lie and I find out, I'm gone. Do you understand? Is there anything else I should know? If there is, tell me now. Because I mean it, I'll walk away and watch your little taskforce burn."

"I swear, cross my heart, on my life, there is nothing else we're keeping from you."

"You said that before."

She turns and takes me by my shoulders to look deep into my eyes. "Harry, I swear to you, as far as I am aware, there is nothing else."

I hold her gaze and that feeling comes to the surface again. Like butterflies in the stomach. My heart is pounding and my pulse is racing. Her eyes say she is truthful. But still, it's going to take me a lot of time to learn to trust these people again. If they'd have told me at the beginning, it would be different.

"You should have told me from the beginning. I didn't ask to be protected, Caitlin. I've been lied to enough already, don't you think?"

"Yes. I am so sorry."

"Just leave me alone for a bit, please. I need to think."

"Harry...."

"Please, Caitlin. Just leave me alone. I need to.... to think."

I watch her stand and march back towards Calder Hall. I glance around at the complex, my mind racing, fevered. I need to be alone with my thoughts.

There's Oscar, chatting to one of his friends or contacts. I've a good mind to confront him. They told me it was his idea – to keep things from me. I'd like to know why. Wouldn't you? It's like there's a war raging inside of me. I close my eyes and breathe deeply. The air smells and tastes musty. Dust, carried by the wind, clings to my throat. I swallow it – radioactive or not, it's not like it's going to kill me. You can only die once.

"Oscar!"

I march pointedly towards him, my face firm and unreadable. I don't want to show my anger. See, I do understand that they were trying to protect me, but I don't want protecting. I've had to handle enough already, I think I can handle a little more. He swallows hard as he looks towards me. Politely breaking away from his conversation, making some excuse to ensure his friend walks away, he waits calmly for me to reach him.

"I want to know why you kept what you did from me. And don't say to protect me, because I'm tired of hearing it."

"I didn't want to push you over the edge...."

"I've handled enough, Oscar."

"Exactly. We all know about your suicidal thoughts, your anger issues."

"I only want the truth – whether it hurts or not! It's my right. Haven't I been lied to enough already? You...."

"I failed you, Harry!" He snaps, stopping me midsentence. "I failed. I ordered the truth to be kept from you because I was ashamed of myself. I had reports on my desk that told me something terrible was about to happen. And I did nothing. I chose to sit back and do nothing. We had the power, to walk onto this site and order an investigation, to stop..... So you see I failed you. Because if I'd done something, your parents would be alive and you would still have a long and healthy life ahead of you."

Always that word keeps coming back. Shame. That seems to be a common theme in my life now.

"And I realise that was a mistake, Harry. I should have learned from my own past. It didn't have to happen again. But I let it. I failed your parents. I failed you and I'm ashamed at that, at what I had become \- as bad as them. I am trying to make up for that, but alas, it seems I've failed you again because of another bad decision."

"Yes, it was a bad decision. You should have told me. I could – can – handle it, Oscar. I might be dying but I'm not weak. Whatever happened to me has made me stronger, in here," I point to my head. "I can handle things I couldn't before, because I've had to. I had no one to help me. And yes, that got to me. Yes, I began to have suicidal thoughts. But then you lot came along and I started to feel.... I let you in. You didn't have to lie to me, Oscar. You didn't."

"Then how do we – I – regain your trust?"

"By not lying to me again. About anything, no matter how hard for me to hear. Agreed?"

He stares at me for a long time before nodding his agreement. It seems our heated conversation has attracted attention from passing workers and indeed our fellow colleagues, who stand watching outside the entrance of Calder Hall. We both swallow hard as we glance around at the curious and concerned faces.

"We start again, Harry. No more lies, no more cover ups. I promise."

"You had better mean it. Otherwise, I go home."

"And I wouldn't blame you."

He turns to walk away but something's niggling at me, something he said during our conversation, so I grab him arm.

"What did you mean – should have learned from your own past, happening again?"

He lets out a long breath as he stares into my eyes. "Perhaps I should.... but not here. Not now, later. I'll tell you later. It's the very least I can do."

I watch him as he walks away. I seem to have hit a nerve. He walks away like a broken man. And that look in his eyes. Three emotions – despair, anguish and sorrow. I'm left curious by him comment. It has to have something to do with his family. I can guess that much from what the others have said and by that look in his eyes. It's a look you only acquire when you've lost everything that means something to you.

"I was attached to Sizewell B plant. It's the only PWR plant in the UK – pressured water reactor. I'd only been there about four weeks when it happened."

I'm sat in Oscar's room. We're alone and the room is lit by only a single lamp. He says the darkness soothes his troubled mind. He promised he tell me his story earlier today, so here we are. I listen without interrupting, despite his often long moments of silence.

"There was a.... they called it incident. It wasn't, it was an accident. And it could have been a serious one had specialists such as myself not been on site. What happened is irrelevant. Why it happened isn't. I later discovered, on an inspection, that certain safety margins had not been met. Cutbacks, similar to Windscale, had been made. Deliberately. I threatened to expose the flaws to not only my superiors, but to the press and the public. I felt they had a right to know. And in turn, the men in charge, they threatened me, my life. Of course it wasn't quite worded like that, but that's what they meant." He pauses again, this time to finish his glass of whisky. Only after he's poured another does he continue. "I ignored them. My conscience outweighed my fear. I was a relatively young man. I felt invincible. But it wasn't me that.... It should have been, but they couldn't have known that I'd changed my plans that day. I should have been on site, which means I should have had the car. But I decided to stay home. So my wife took the car. It was the summer holidays, I was working from home, she wanted to keeps the girls out of my way. She knew how important my work was. They loved the seaside." He stops as tears cloud his vision. I can see in his face just how hard this is for him. "The brakes had been cut. They said it was an accident. But it wasn't. They threatened me, they knew I should have had the car that day. My wife, my baby girls.... It's my fault. If I hadn't changed my plans, they'd still be here. It should have been me. I vowed that I'd never let it happen again. But so far I've failed. And worse, I then proceeded to lie to you. All because I was ashamed of admitting my failure."

I don't know what to say to him. What can I say? What would you say?

"It won't happen again. I won't let you down again, Harry. I will get you justice and I will help you with your problems, as much as I possibly can."

"Oscar.... you can't. I'm d.... If you want to do something for me, don't lie to me. And we put an end to this conspiracy, together."

DAY THREE: SELLAFIELD.

Describing the plants we'll be visiting today could be hard. Not because I'm rubbish with words, but because of security. See, Nuclear plants, the insides, the workings are usually kept.... discreet. I can't describe anything that would compromise the safety and security of the complex. You know the world we're living, the state of things. There are bad people in this world that would jump at the chance to take over a nuclear plant. I'll tell you what I can but you'll just have to bear with. Windscale and Calder Hall are in the process of decommissioning. Sellafield is still active. I'm sure you understand. If not, tough.

I, Landon and Tate are heading for the Central Laboratory. We can question certain members of staff there, away from the noise and chaos of the complex. I wonder if they'll remember me. Only certain members have been chosen for us to speak to. The ones in the know, with the high level access, people at the top of the chains. The first place Cain and Benedict are heading for is the THORP plant – sorry, the Thermal Oxide Reprocessing plant. It reprocesses irradiated fuel from both UK and foreign reactors. There was a leak there in 2005. All because of a cracked pipe. But it was only discovered because of a discrepancy in the amounts going in and out of the plant. No one was hurt but a lot of radioactivity escaped to the secondary containment. My parents were there for that one. Said it was categorised as level 3 on the International Nuclear Event Scale. Cain said they'd meet us later.

"Harry, I want you to ask the questions today. The staff knew your parents, know you – they might tell you more than they'd tell us two." Landon turns to me as we wait to be escorted to an office. "Don't mess about, no pleasantries. Just get straight down to business. Why were IAEA recommendations not adhered to? Was Chester here? If so, why? Also, you might want to ask about your parents. Probe a little. See how much they know about the accident and cover up."

"Landon, I know."

"We'll be right beside you...."

"I'll be fine." I snap more harshly than I'd intended. That'll be the rage bubbling inside my stomach.

She doesn't get a chance to reply as our guide arrives to escort us to our commandeered office.

The office is small and stuffy. The windows look out over the entire complex. A freight train has just pulled into the station. Dropping off more nuclear waste for reprocessing no doubt. I watch the activity below while we wait for our first interviewee. There'll be no names today, no identities given away - for their protection. After all, they're probably like Oakley was – under threat not to say anything. This taskforce isn't in the business of getting people killed, simply because they talk to us. I take this time to prepare myself, mostly to calm the underlying rage that bubbles in me. My whole body trembles. I keep my hands firmly stuffed into my pockets. We don't have to wait long for the first one to walk through the door.

"Come in, sit down."

Landon stands beside me. Tate closes the door and stands guard with his back to the glass - there's no lock and we don't want any interference during our questioning. I recognise him. I met him on my first day. He's surprised to see me and swallows hard as his eyes fall on my burns.

"Harry...."

I want to stay calm and professional so I clear my throat. I'm tired of losing control. "Do you know what this is about?"

"The incident eight months ago," he answers in a croak.

His throat is dry through nervousness. Landon hands him a cup of water from the cooler at the far end of the room and he gulps it down.

I continue. "I need to ask you some questions. Just answers as best as you can."

"Harry, I'm sorry about your parents. They were good people. Most of us knew them well."

"The IAEA carried out an inspection six months before the accident. They made recommendations. Are you aware of that?"

He's taken aback by me, by my coldness. "I err.... I knew about the inspection, yes."

"So why weren't the recommendations acted on?"

"I don't know. Only a select few of us knew about the findings...," he stops. He's revealed too much and he knows it.

"What?" I press him as he hesitates, looking to the floor.

"Harry...."

"We'd like you to elaborate, sir?" Landon steps forward, glaring at him.

"I can't. I've been told not to discuss the IAEA findings with you. That they're not relevant to the acc.... to the incident."

Landon and I glance to each other. She sighs and steps back to whisper to me.

"Press him. Use your parents, their friendship."

I sigh and sit opposite him. I stare at him, trying to soften my expression.

"You err.... you knew my parents for ten years, didn't you? You came to birthday parties. They considered you a good friend."

"I was. They were very good friends."

"Did they know about the IAEA recommendations?"

"Harry...."

"Come on, they were my parents. I have a right to know."

"Like I said, the inspection was routine."

"But their recommendations could have stopped that accident." Landon jumps in.

He glares up at her. A look I've never seen on his face before. "You don't know that."

Before I can say anything else, Landon cuts me off. "It sounds to me like the findings were covered up. Just like the accident."

"It was a minor incident." He looks pointedly to me. "Harry, what happened was a tragedy but it could have happened to anyone, anywhere, at any time."

I scoff. He's supposed to be a friend. "What do actually know about what happened?"

"I wasn't there, Harry. So, only what I was told. Same as the papers said."

"How could it be an incident when my parents were killed? You're supposed to be a friend."

He looks to floor again. Sweat drips from his forehead. He swallows hard before looking back at me.

"Look I'm sorry, but I can't discuss your parents."

"What?"

"You heard me."

I look to Landon and she understands right away and takes over. "Do you know their files from here are missing? Gone completely. Like they were never here. Do you know why?"

"Admin error."

"Admin error? You believe that?"

"I can't say anything more on that matter."

Landon is put off that easily. "We think, it was deliberate. No employment files, no mention to the public about their deaths – seems like a cover up, wouldn't you agree?"

"No comment."

"Not an option I'm afraid."

He looks into her eyes. "No comment."

"I'm not police mate, I'm military. I don't do, no comment. Tell us about the accident, and why there are no records of her parents twenty years of employment here."

He continues to stare at both her and me but remains silent. Landon sighs and looks back at me before continuing.

"Ok. Let's get back to the IAEA recommendations. Why weren't they implemented and why were they kept classified?"

"I don't know."

"Why didn't you speak out?" I snap, sitting forwards to glare at him past Landon. "Come on, you knew but said nothing. Did they bribe you? The men at the top?"

"Speak out?" He half chuckles, running his hand through his hair. "You have no idea. It's not that simple."

"Why not?" Landon asks.

"You know why not."

Landon looks up at Tate and he returns her gaze. "Ok. Different question altogether. One you can answer. Do you know a man by the name of Lucas Chester?"

The sweat is running off his forehead. "I can't...."

Landon glances to Tate. "If you've been threatened, you don't have to worry. Whatever you say to us, no one will find out. We protect our sources. Forget the incident and the IAEA, just tell us about Chester."

"Politician. Big fan of nuclear power."

"Was he here? Did he come here often?"

"A few times if I recall. Like I said, he's a big fan, likes to take an active role in the industry."

"What about after the accident? A day or so maybe - did he visit?"

"I don't remember. It was eight months ago – over now. A lot's happened since then."

"Try." Landon presses.

He squints, clearly straining his mind to remember. Then his eyes fall on me but he quickly looks away. "I think.... I think he did. The next day. He came with another guy, but I don't know who he was. Politician, businessman maybe – I'm not sure."

Landon smirks, looking back at me. "Do you know why they were here?"

"I assumed it was about the accident but I can't be certain."

"See, that was so bad, was it?"

As she steps back, he looks at me and swallows hard. "Harry.... I'm sorry. I.... I know it must be hard for you, given everything."

"What did they tell you about me?"

"That you'd been burned, but that's obvious."

"Nothing else?"

He frowns. He's clearly puzzled by my question. "What else? What do you mean?"

I look up at Landon and she looks back. Finally I return my gaze to him.

"Nothing. It doesn't matter. You can.... go now."

Before he exits, Tate grabs his arm. "Remember, you're not to discuss what was said in here with anyone. The consequences will be dire if you do. Do you understand?"

He nods and rushes from the room. I glare up at Tate, my eyes on fire.

"Did you have to say that? Threaten him? I thought we were supposed to be better than that."

Landon answers before he can. "It has to be done, Harry. For our own safety, and theirs."

We continue to question the staff but the answers are the same. No comment. I can't answer that question. I don't know. The information they do give us – there are always the same discrepancies. Who's told them to keep quiet? Why did only a select few know about the IAEA findings and recommendations? They all agree one thing though. Chester was here the day after. So we know he was lying. And we know he wasn't here alone. So, who was his friend? And why were they here when there was no valid reason for them to be? This visit has only produced more questions than answers so far. And the answers it has given us, are cryptic. They don't appear to make much – if any - sense. It seems the plot is thickening.

We been here four hours already and I'm starting to bite a little. I'm losing my patients with the same answers. I started calm but now that's wearing thin. You see, I don't like the answers we're getting. It's brick walls, you know. Bullshit. More questions. I'm so sick of brick walls and bull. I stand at the window now. I lost it with the last guy, snapped. I didn't lunge for him. I threw the chair across the room instead. It really spooked him. I guess I was – to him – feral. That's when Landon called time.

"I think we should stop for lunch. An hour or so, freshen up," she glances to me. "Calm down. Andrew, find Alison and Dale, I'm going off site and Harry's coming with me."

We drive out of Sellafield and park up by the beach to walk on the sand – despite the rain and cold.

"I had to get you out of there, Harry. You were losing it."

"I'm tired."

"I know."

"I didn't used to be like this. That place made me into this. It's warped me into.... something I don't recognise," I chuckle. "Can't recognise. I just need some time to clear my head."

"Come on, I'll treat you to fish and chips."

She winks at me and we both laugh. She seems to be able to control the rage in me, to keep it on a tight leash. She's able to evaporate all the negativity away. Her smile melts my.... my heart.

We sit on a bench under cover while we eat. We watch with amusement, all the people rushing for cover as they go about their business. Splashing in the puddles. Cursing when a car goes by, drenching those who stand too close to the curb. When we've finished, we remain sitting, watching the world pass us by. And I have to admit, I do feel calmer. Relaxed even. It's been a hard couple of days. There isn't much conversation between us. I guess, neither of us knows what to say. We can't ignore the tension that's passing between us – sexual tension. It's so blatantly obvious, it's a wonder the people on the street can't see it.

"Feeling calmer?"

"Somewhat."

"Good."

She turns to face me and our eyes meet. Before I know it, our hands are touching as they rest on the back of the bench. She slips her free hand inside my hood to caress my cheek. I should pull away, put a stop to this but something stops me. And then, just as we move closer, her phone rings. She jumps out of her skin, we both do and she answers.

"Yeah." She listens for a while, glancing at me. "Alright, we'll be there in ten, fifteen tops." With that, she hangs up and turns back to me. "We need to get back. Top man's just got in and we need to question him – so does Alison."

"He won't talk." I sigh, my heart and stomach sinking again.

"Well we'll see. Come on."

We make good time getting back. When we get back to the office, they're already waiting for us – Alison, Dale, Tate and the man we're to interrogate. Like I said before, no names. He recognises me straight away – he gave me the job here. He can't bear to look at me when I lower my hood and he's faced with the burns. There's guilt in his eyes and something else. Fear. He's afraid of me. Landon seems to completely blank him, choosing instead to address Alison.

"Finished already?"

"We've seen enough if that's what you mean. And I didn't like much of what I saw."

Now Alison turns on the man in the hot seat.

"The MOX plant had some worrying decay in the containment. However, as it was closed in 2011, I expect you'll be decommissioning soon?"

"Yes. As ordered by the erm...."

Alison interrupts. "NDA – Nuclear Decommissioning Authority."

"Yes."

"Much more worrying, however, were the radioactive waste stores. We found major decay in three of the stores, including the Vitrified Product store – high level waste. What's more frightening, is that the decay seems to have been completely overlooked. Most of the stores also appear to be overloaded. At risk of serious breaches and leaks. Conditions don't seem to have improved much in the THORP plant either – despite the incident of 2005 and consequences. That's a serious breach of health and safety at the very least."

That really is the hot seat. He's broke out into a serious sweat and keeps licking his lips.

"If you...," he clears his throat. His throat is dry and his voice is a croak. "Give me a list of improvements and I'll see they're carried out."

"Like you did before? When the IAEA gave you a list of recommendations? Recommendations that were never implemented. And while we're on that subject, where is that list? It seems to have disappeared, without a trace."

I'm impressed. Alison is just as good at interrogation as Landon and Tate are. He struggles to form an answer and indeed, fails to say anything at all.
"Well?"

"The acc... incident happened.... there wasn't time to implement the IAEA recommendations."

"The accident happened precisely six months after the IAEA inspection. Those recommendations should have been carried out immediately. It was labelled high risk. For immediate attention."

"I don't...."

"I'm a scientist, sir. I work for them. Don't try to pull the wool over my eyes. I'm no fool."

"Like I said, give me your recommendations, I'll see they're attended too."

"No. I'm going to pass on my concerns to my colleagues at the IAEA. I'll let the nuclear authorities deal with you. Now, I believe my colleagues here want a chat."

Landon steps forward. "Since Ms Cain has already asked some of my questions, I won't repeat them. They've been answered, just as I expected. Sir Lucas Chester visited this site, the day after the accident, yes?"

"Yes."

"He was with another male. Who was he?"

"I'm.... not sure. A colleague of Sir Chester's."

"Did he have a name?" Landon asks, somewhat sarcastically.

"Obviously. But he didn't give it. I didn't ask."

"Why were they here when they had no reason to be?"

Here it comes again. I can see it coming in his eyes.

"No comment."

"It's a simple enough question."

"One I'm not obliged to answer."

"You are actually. We work with the IAEA, this taskforce was created by them, to investigate a culture of cover ups in the industry. So, one more time, why were Sir Lucas Chester and friend here, when they had no apparent or valid reason to be?"

"No comment."

"We think, they were here to make sure the details and truths of that accident were covered up. Including the deaths of Mr and Mrs Jenkins and the details of Harriet Jenkins's state of health."

"Don't be absurd."

"Then where are their employment records? They worked here for twenty years."

"No comment."

Landon lets out a frustrated sigh – although she suppresses the frustrated bit. She turns to us.

"We're not going to get anymore out of him. Or anyone. I think we should return to base. Poole together what we have and go from there."

I scoff. We don't have much.

"Can I go now?" The male asks.

"Yes. Thank you for your cooperation." She waves him away and as he exits adds. " Or, lack of it."

"So what now? Back to the hotel and then back to base?" I ask.

"Yes. It's clear we're done here. They're becoming uncooperative."

"There's one last place I want to visit first." Alison adds. "The B30 waste pond – Dirty Thirty."

The B30 waste pond – fondly called Dirty Thirty. Used from 1960 until 1986, it was used to store the spent fuel from Magnox reactors. Time and bad weather has taken its toll on the pond - it's decaying and is prone to leaks, and this water is seriously contaminated, so not good for your health. Sometimes the radiation around the pond is so high, you can only be here for two minutes. Any longer.... you can use your imagination. It's hard to describe the colour of the water – dirty. It's hard to tell. Algae have formed on the surface of the water, so there isn't much to see. Carrying out an inspection on Dirty Thirty isn't easy. Or pleasant.

"You're wasting your time here." I mutter as I stand next to her.

"Nothing is ever a waste of time." Alison turns to me, a crafty smile on her lips. "I can get all I need to know from simply looking. The Algae makes inspection extremely hard. It's clearly in a poor condition due to wear and tear of the weather and time. And it's obvious there has been a recent leak." She points out a patch of grass at the far end of the pond. It is a funny colour. "Contaminated."

Landon blows out an impatient breath as she shifts from foot to foot. She's clearly unsettled by Dirty Thirty and the risks it poses to us right now. All it takes is a sudden radiation increase and.... well put it this way - shortened life span.

"Hurry it up, Alison. I'm not keen on spending too much time around this thing."

"I'm almost done."

We'll all be much happier when we're back on the road. We're not satisfied. All this trip has done is raise more questions. But it has strengthened our suspicions of a conspiracy.

SEVEN: COVERT OPERATIONS

SIR VEER'S BUILDING, CENTRAL LONDON.

Sir Veer runs his fingers across the stubble on his face as he reads a report on his desk. His eyes are alive with, what can best be described as, annoyance. He reads the same report over and over again as he waits for Lucas. And his patience is wearing thin. Why is it, every time he has something of the utmost urgency to discuss with Lucas, he's late?.

"You're late. Again." His tone is harsh but he doesn't care. He wants Lucas to know he's annoyed – raging now even.

"I know, I'm sorry. Family problems."

"My contact was right. They've been to Sellafield."

"We ordered the staff to keep their mouths firmly shut. They haven't talked."

"So what do you suggest, Lucas?"

Lucas runs his hands through his hair and sighs. "They're shouting their mouths off - which is problematic. They've certainly got my wife's feathers ruffled. But they know nothing. They're clutching at straws."

"Have they mentioned me?"

Lucas shakes his head. "And I haven't mentioned your name. They're just probing \- which means they don't know anything."

Veer glares at him. "They knew enough to visit Sellafield."

"Only because of Miss Jenkins."

"You should have let me take care of her."

"Listen to me right now - I don't, won't condone what you're talking about. I might be many things, but I won't go there."

"We may not have another option if this continues. Do you really think our friends will stand by us if they get too deep? Don't be naive, Lucas. They'll leave us to the wolves, just to save their own skins. They don't want and will not allow themselves to be caught up in this, if it comes out."

"These people are good, Ernest. They know which buttons to press and how to press them. All my contacts say they don't exist. They know nothing of an IAEA taskforce. Your contact is close, what do they say?"

"They have archives - archives of accidents dating right back to 1957, Windscale."

"Terrible business. It proves nothing."

"We should take care of them...."

"No mysterious disappearances, Ernest. No mysterious deaths."

Veer scoffs. "Not yet."

"I mean it, Ernest. That's not what I.... That is a step too far."

Veer half chuckles. "Are you sure that you can hold your nerve?"

"I have so far, haven't I?"

"You had better keep it that way."

"Or what? You'll take care of me too?"

Veer looks him right in the eye. "Don't push it, Lucas. I have all the friends in all the right places. Just remember who your friends are."

With that, Lucas laughs and turns on his heels. He looks back to say something but, looking into Veer's eyes, decides against it and marches out.

IAEA TASKFORCE FACILITY.

I've had some time to think. The journey back allowed me that quite time to really think about the past few days and the things that have happened. It's very easy to be angry - and I think I have a right to be. I'll be honest, I did think seriously about quitting this taskforce. They kept major things from me and, because of that, my trust in them has thinned - although some of my trust has been restored after listening to Oscar's story. The evidence does seem to be stacking up in favour of a conspiracy. There is something going on beneath the surface.... I've had to face the reality of my.... situation, being back there. And it terrifies me. It might look like it doesn't, I might be cold on the surface, but deep down I'm shaken to the core. A part of me almost wishes I'd finished what I started on that bridge.

We've all had a good night's sleep – almost all of us. I was wide awake. My mind was.... somewhere else. The others argue amongst themselves about what the next and best course of action is. Alison wants to visit more nuclear sites, while Landon wants to interrogate Sir Chester further – and more aggressively. And you know what that means. We all know what that means - a snatch and torture. She's fully prepared to do whatever it takes to get answers from him – no matter what the answers are, as long as he actually opens his mouth and coherent words come out.

"That's a barbaric method and I don't agree with it." Alison argues.

"If it gets us answers." Landon fights back.

"It's barbaric!"

"It's a means to an end!"

"Well, what does Harry think? She knows Chester better than any of us." Dale asks, trying desperately to bring the heated argument to an end.

They turn to stare at me, expecting me to have all the answers when I don't. I have other things on my mind at the moment.

"I don't know what to think, and honestly, I don't care."

With that, I drag myself to my feet and head for the door. I can feel their eyes watching me, confused and concerned, I think, by my answer.

"Harry?" Landon calls after me.

"It's hot in here. I need some air."

I exit the room but stop just outside, where they can't see me.

"She's not right. Ever since she found out that we knew...." Landon starts.

"It's not that, Caitlin." Alison interrupts, clearing her throat and averting her eyes. "It's something else, that's occupying her mind."

"What?"

"I can't say. I promised her I wouldn't."

"Alison...?"

"She will discuss it with you in her own time. I made her a promise, I won't break it. So just drop it, Caitlin."

"Alison if something's...."

"Why don't you concentrate on regaining her trust! Then and only then, she may confide in you!"

Landon is taken back. They all are. I'm guessing that this is the first time Alison Cain has ever snapped at them, and with such bite to her tone. And now she turns on Oscar.

"We've gone too far. And that's your fault. We had no right in keeping what we did from her. No right at all. That girl's right – we are no better than the people we are standing against, right now."

"Alison, that is not...." Oscar starts.

"We kept the same things from her! Yet we claim to be better!"

Oscar sighs, looking to the floor. "I failed, Alison! That's why I kept it from her. I chose, of my own volition, to do nothing. How do you think that makes me feel? I had the chance to save three lives, and chose not to. Why? Because I was afraid. I let my past get in the way of my duty. No more lies and no more secrets, from now on. Agreed?"

They all mutter and nod their agreement.

As I walk back in the room, I remain silent. I'm disinterested. Her words have hit them hard – I can see that from their guilty faces. I sit back at my desk and say nothing. Oakley clears his throat in an attempt to change the mood.

"Right then. Next move. I'm open to suggestions."

"Sellafield only gave us more questions." I mutter. "We need to know how deep Chester is in it, and who his friend was."

Both Landon and Cain agree with me.

"And who ordered the staff – even at the highest levels – to keep their mouths shut? It would have to be someone with connections, pull."

"Perhaps the male he was at Sellafield with?"

I sigh. I'm tired and my eyes hurt. "So what do we do next?"

"Surveillance – I think – is the best option." Oakley pulls himself to his full height. A commanding figure. "Chester is clearly in it up to his neck, but he's not giving the orders. My friends in politics tell me that Chester is a man who likes to act big. In reality, he's a disinterested coward – to put it politely. He's obsessed with the money and the prestige but other than that.... So we watch him. He may very well lead us to the one giving the orders."

"Andrew and I can handle that. We'll make it so he can't take a shit without us knowing."

"I don't want quite that detail but carry on."

Cain stands, followed by Benedict. "I want to go over our findings from Sellafield. It could take a while though."

"Fine."

As the scientists disperse and Landon and Tate confer, I'm left wondering what I should do. I watch them all as they go about their business - their paths as clear as crystal. Mine isn't so clear cut. I don't know what to do – and I mean in general not just with the taskforce. I watch both groups as they chat urgently about their state of play. I suppose the logical thing for me to do, would be to stay with Landon. But then, Alison knows things. And Landon blatantly lied to me. So I'm torn. Because, whatever she's done, I'm still drawn to Landon – like a lost sheep looking for its master.

I guess it was inevitable that I'd choose to tag along with Landon and Tate. I don't want to interfere with Cain and her work. And, Landon seems to easy my mind, seems able to control me, my thoughts. Besides, I have my own score to settle with Chester. Every accident, his name keeps cropping up, so Oakley's going to be looking deeper at his background and family, try to dredge up some answers. I, Tate and Landon are sat in the canteen planning our own moves against Chester. It's like a game of chess – moving our pieces into place, he makes a move and we make a move. It's all strategy and spying - very military. I'm out of my depth – I don't mind admitting. I'm neither a spy nor a soldier, so I'll just go along with what they think is best. They tell me, this is the boring part – surveillance. Nothing to do but sit and wait. I find it a bit exciting actually – spying and things. Wouldn't you? It is the stuff you see in the movies and read in books.

"We'll put a tracker on his car so we'll always know where he is, and we'll plant some bugs in his office." Landon explains, mostly for my benefit.

"What sort of bugs?" I ask.

"Camera's and listening devices ideally. They'll allow us to watch him from a distance and gives us access to his communications." Tate answers. "We can put the tracker on his car tonight – the sooner the better I say."

"Absolutely. We'll hit his office tomorrow night. We'll wait till it's nice and quiet, around midnight. Break in, place the bugs and get out again."

"It's a fairly standard op, shouldn't take us more than a few hours. We'll be long gone by the time the street comes to life."

I look at both of them as they fall silent. "And then what?"

Landon and Tate both break into laughter before she answers. "Well, then comes the mundane but.... awkward phase. Following, watching. Where he goes, we go."

"Why is that awkward? It's seems perfectly straightforward to me."

"Awkward, because we could get caught." Tate smirks as he gulps down the rest of his coffee, getting to his feet.

"And what if we do get caught?"

Landon sighs, also getting to her feet. "Best not to think about that."

I scoff. "So we just sneak around his home in the dead of night and break into his office? Isn't that breaking the law?"

"That is why it's best not to get caught," she laughs. "It is in the interests of security, and we do have the authority to do whatever we have to, to accomplish our objectives." She half turns to me, a sly smirk on her face. "If you're uncomfortable, you can always join Alison in the lab. A lecture every hour on.... things I've never heard of."

A part of me is tempted - Alison knows things about my condition. No. No, I've heard all I need to know.

I force a smile. "Well when you put it like that."

Landon stops and turns to me. "It is dicey, but do as exactly as we tell you and everything should be fine."

"You've done this before?"

"Oh yes. Many times."

Ten o'clock and he's late. He should have been home by now. Probably having a quick one in some back alley. Landon and Tate don't seem bothered by this.... boredom. But then, they've done this before. Tate's dozing in the driver's seat while Landon reads a newspaper. I don't know what to do with myself. It's still exciting – just the thought that we could be seen or caught, it gets the adrenaline pumping for sure - adrenaline and nerves. The trick is not to draw attention to ourselves. We can't afford a nosey neighbour asking questions. The thing is, we'll have to wait until he goes to bed to plant the tracker, and the later he is, the longer we're going to be here. Fortunately for us, there aren't many streetlights to contend with. There's nothing to do but sit and think.

Eleven o'clock and he's finally pulling onto the drive. Two hours late. He wife is stood at the door – she doesn't look happy. Lucas looks drunk - judging by the way he's stumbled out of his car and is now, somehow, making his way down the path. It looks as if unpleasant words are being passed between him and his wife. I sit forward to whisper to Landon.

"Why aren't we bugging his home?"

"Remember what his wife said? He never brings work home. And there are some lines we won't cross." She sighs, scanning the street and throwing the newspaper onto the dashboard. "We'll give it another hour. They should all be asleep by then. Then we can move in and plant the tracker."

"And tomorrow night we bug his office?"

"That's the plan. After that, we'll take it in turns to follow Chester – that's the tricky part. If he notices he's being followed, it's over. He'd question his security, he may change offices, ditch his car. Men like him are usually paranoid at the best of times, if we're compromised...," she turns to look me in the eye. "Surveillance is meant to be covert"

"So maybe I shouldn't be tagging along."

"I didn't say that." She flashes a playful smirk at me.

Midnight and the lights in his home have finally gone out. Time to make our move. I say our move – Landon and Tate have ordered me to stay in the car. On lookout, apparently. They move quickly, darting from shadow to shadow, one bit of cover to the next before dropping to the ground beside his car. It's hard to see them – the lack of street lighting is working in our favour. It doesn't take them long. Less than five minutes later and they're already making their way back to the car. They jump in and we don't waste time in getting out of here.

We left the complex at eleven. We spent most of the day preparing the camera and listening equipment. It's pitch black and the weather's terrible – the perfect cover for us. Tate's gone on ahead to disable the security system. Myself and Landon wait in an uncomfortable silence. The tension between us is rapidly becoming unbearable.

"There's his signal – let's go."

I follow Landon, two black bags slung over my shoulder. We must be careful to leave everything as it is – otherwise Chester'll know someone's been here. We make our way to Chester's office as quickly and as carefully as we can, ensuring we leave no prints and no trace. We scan the room – there aren't many places to hide cameras and listening devices.

Landon looks up. "Put the listening device and a camera in the light fixture. We'll put the rest in the sprinkler system, it should give us good coverage. I'll put a tap on his phone."

I don't feel of much use. I can only pass tools and equipment when they ask for it – which I suppose makes the job quicker, as long as I keep on my toes. Speed is key but difficult when you can't afford to make mistakes. And everything must be painstakingly put back the way it was before we can make our escape. Even at this time of night, we could easily be discovered. Traffic is still fairly heavy, only a couple of streets away, and there a few stragglers making their way home from nightclubs. All it really takes is for the police helicopter to pass by.

We've made good time. It's only taken just over two hours. We make a quick exit – again, careful not to leave prints or traces. Myself and Landon head for the car while Tate resets the security system. We want a speedy getaway, we can't afford to be held up now.

UKAEA FACILITY.

"What now?" I ask as we make our way through the complex.

"We wait."

Wait. It seems that's what my life has become now – a waiting game. I say nothing, I don't even look at her. I keep walking. In my room, I close my door and slide to the floor, resting against it. The thing about waiting, is that it gives you plenty of time to think. Too much time. A knock at my door drags me from my thoughts.

"Harry?"

"Go away, Caitlin. I'm tired."

I lie. I'm in no mood for a conversation. I still find myself questioning my trust in these people. And with recent things still going round in my head, I....

"You're with me tomorrow. Seven o'clock."

I bite my lip. I hear her sigh before marching away. We can have the fresh start, but there are things that I still need to think about - alone. You know, I've had to grow up, real quick lately. And I can't help feeling that I've... wasted these last eight months. And then I think, maybe they were trying to finish me off. No one knows how long it will take for me to.... become ill. And they don't want the truth to come out, do they?

We followed Chester to his office and now just sit and wait. If he goes out.... you get the idea. I have a feeling it's going to be a long day. One half of me, thinks I'd be better back at base – helping Oakley dig into his life. But then, this spying stuff intrigues me. And it gives me time to think – no matter how much it hurts. As I fail to stifle a yawn, Landon chuckles. I turn to her.

"How do you stay focused?"

"Practice."

I blow out a long breath, glaring out of the window at the people passing by. Lost to their own little worlds, wrapped up in their own little problems. Tate gets the easy job – back at base monitoring our little bugs. At least he can have a coffee whenever he feels like.

"You look tired."

I look at Landon but remain silent. I didn't sleep. I haven't since my conversation with Alison.

"I'm fine."

"Are you? Alison said you...."

"Can we put the radio on? It might kill time."

As the music plays, she opens her mouth to say something but decides against it. I'm not ready to discuss this with her yet. I'm still trying to get my own head around it. She sighs deeply.

"Are you hungry? I can nip out, get some sarnies and some coffee."

I shake my head. "I'm not hungry."

"What's wrong with you? And don't say, nothing. I thought we were starting a fresh. There are only so many times we can...."

"It's not.... I've got.... other things, going round in my head. Just, leave it for now. Please."

"You're clearly dealing with something. What is it?"

"Please, Caitlin, just drop it."

Her hand clutches mine gently. I can see she wants to push me further. I'm determined not to let her. "If you need to talk, my door's always open."

"I know. But I.... I have to deal with this myself first."

"Harry...."

"Don't, Landon. Please."

I look at her and shake my head. No more words. Just the gripping tighter of hands. There's a clear rise of sexual tension between us as we slip closer. But alas, I pull away to stare out of the window. I can sense she's hurt, but I won't allow myself to....

He didn't leave his office all day and when he did, he went home and stayed there. We have nothing. We could be in for a long wait. But we can't wait forever. Again, I find I'm distancing myself from the others. I've too much on my mind to play silly games or... whatever. I suppose we start this all over again tomorrow.

Again we sit outside his office and wait. Still, like I said earlier, it gives me plenty of time to think. The thing is, I don't like the thoughts going round in my head, the images that keep popping in. But I have no choice, I have to drag myself through this. I'm just so.... tired.

"You're tired."

It's almost as if Landon can see right through me.

"We're supposed to be a team, Harry. Whatever you're dealing with, you shouldn't be dealing with it alone."

"I have to."

"Why?"

"Because it's something I.... Just leave it alone, Caitlin."

"You talked to Allison about it."

"She knew before me. She's seen my.... medical files."

"Your files? Tell me what it is, Harry."

Before I can say anything, Sir Chester emerges from his building. He appears to scan the street, before heading right for us at a stroll.

"What do we do?" I ask, sinking in my seat. I wish it would swallow me whole.

As he gets closer to our position, Landon thinks fast. Scanning the car, her eyes fall on me. Before I can say anything, her lips are on mine, locked in a lovers embrace. And I can't help but run my hands over her slender curves. Electricity seems to pass between us. A kiss has never felt so.... natural, so breathtaking. As Chester passes without even a second's glance, she breaks the kiss but remains close. She watches him.

"Err... Caitlin."

She looks down at me and, realising her position, pulls back, freeing me.

She blushes and must feel she has to explain. "So he didn't see us...."

"Shouldn't we follow?" I smile, saving her the embarrassment.

She clears her throat firing up the engine and we give chase.

We follow Chester to a small bistro. He sits at a window table, giving us a perfect view. He's soon joined by a female. I recognise her but I can't remember her name. She works in the cabinet – some minister or other I think. I only met her a few times while I was with him. Even then, we hardly spoke. I explain this to Landon as she discreetly takes photographs of the pair.

"I'll run an ID and background check when we get back. She could be important. The cover up was ordered from the very top."

UKAEA FACILITY.

"Her name is Evelyn Sampson. Minister for the Development of Domestic Nuclear Technology." Caitlin briefs as we all sit in the nerve centre.

"That's quite a title." Alison chuckles.

"She's untouchable." Landon continues. "Friends in very high places. I'm talking the IAEA and the UN."

"So another dead end?" I ask not really expecting an answer.

Oakley stands. "Not necessarily. There are ways around problems. In the meantime, I've found a name, a connection to Chester. Sir Ernest Montgomery Veer. You may have heard of him – expert businessman, financial wizard, wealth and power. His father and Chester's father worked together, promoting and developing the nuclear industry. He and Chester have been seen together on numerous occasions, and I believe it was Veer who accompanied Chester to Sellafield. He has deep connections, and funds, in the nuclear industry and seems to have taken over from where his father left off."

"Just like Chester." I mutter.

He takes a breath and looks pointedly at each of us. "However, Veer too has powerful friends - and he is well liked. Quite the philanthropist I understand. He's done a lot for the economy, including facilitating the creation of thousands of jobs across the UK."

"So he's untouchable too?" I scoff.

"No. Not necessarily." Oakley licks his lips. "We keep watching Chester – he might lead us to Veer. If not, we'll bring Chester in and resort to more.... aggressive measures."

"You mean torture?"

Oakley smirks at me. "Not necessarily."

He likes that phrase, doesn't he? It doesn't mean anything. It still feels like we're no further forward. As I watch the others break into conversation, I return to my thoughts but jump when a hand touches mine.

"Can I have a word – in private?" Landon asks.

I follow her out into the corridor. She leads me away from the door – out of view of the cameras. She swallows hard as she stares at me.

"About that kiss, I...."

I cut her off. "It's ok. I understand. If you hadn't, he would have...."

"I'd like to do it again?"

I look up at her, silent. She swallows and moves closer, cupping my face in her hands. Her touch is warm. A touch, you could easily lose yourself in. But alas, I step away. I say nothing. I turn my back and march away from her. Again, I need to be alone.

The tension this morning is almost unbearable. Why do I have to be sat in the car with Landon? After last night. I did ask Tate to take my place but, he's better with the technology so.... I can't look at her. It's not that I don't want to, but it's....

"You didn't actually say no," she looks to me.

"Don't. You'd be a fool to fall for me."

"Why?"

When I don't reply, she shuffles to turn to me. I can feel her eyes boring into me. She wants an answer and she's determined to get one.

"Answer me. Why would I be a fool to fall for you?"

I snap, the rage making itself known in my voice. "Look at me! Really look at me, Caitlin. Burned flesh and bones. Death. It hurts enough already. Love, you – they're things I can't have anymore."

My outburst has taken her aback. She sits forward, stunned into silence.

"I look at you, and you're beautiful. Then I look at myself and I see a monster. And they never get the girl."

"Do you know what I see, when I look at you? I see a woman who is determined, fighting, despite everything she feels and fears. I see someone, who won't give up. You have so much strength, so much potential. You just can't see it." She runs her fingers over my own.

"You have no idea, Caitlin."

"Then tell me."

Maybe I should. I find myself finally coming to terms with it, and it might make it easier to deal with if I let her in. "I...."

Her phone rings cutting me off. She sighs and answers, never taking her eyes off of me.

"He should still be in his office. We're sat right outside.... Are you certain?"

With Landon busy on the phone, I can't help but clock the two security guards that are heading right for us. They're built like tanks – I wouldn't want to run into them in a dark alley. I tap her arm and nod towards them.

"Caitlin."

She hangs up and lets out an annoyed grunt. Starting the engine, we make a quick getaway and as we drive off, I look back to see the two men sprinting after us. They soon give up though. I look at Landon. She scratches her cheek before looking to me.

"Chester is, as we speak, on a plane to Geneva. He must have snuck out the back."

"So he knows we're watching?"

"He couldn't possibly.... Unless somebody's warned him. Only the IAEA and UKAEA know he's a focus of our investigation."

"So...?"

She doesn't reply. She holds my gaze for a second before returning her attention to the road.

"Clearly, someone has tipped him off for a bung." Oakley throws himself into a chair.

"The female he had lunch with the other day? She has connections. Or this, Veer guy?" I suggest.

"No. It would have to be someone who has access to the details of our investigation."

"It doesn't matter who tipped him off. What matters is, that clearly, our own people are working against us. These guys are always one step ahead of us." Landon throws herself into the seat next to me. "So what now?"

Oakley rubs him chin. "We carry on – unofficially."

"Excuse me!" Landon stands.

"You heard."

"And what about when our colleagues starting asking questions?"

"We answer them. We don't necessarily have to tell them the full story, or even the truth."

"Can we actually do that?" Alison asks.

"We have to." I stand to my full height. "They're tipping him off, they're part of the problem. If you can't trust them, you cut them loose."

They're all surprised by me. My head was so screwed up – especially after Sellafield. But I've done a lot more growing up these past few days, I've had to. I had to make a decision. The rage, the thoughts, they're still there – of course they are – but I'm going to control them. I'm going to make my parents proud.

I continue. "We carry on and we bring them down. One by one if we have to. Whatever it takes."

Oakley picks up on my point. "If any of you don't think you have the stomach for this, leave now."

They glance at each other and are silent, but not one of them moves or attempts to. Despite reservations, they're in it till the end. Oakley nods and I sit. This is going to turn nasty, that's obvious. But this has to end. One way or another.

Oakley continues. "So it's decided. When Chester arrives back in the UK, we grab him. And we interrogate him, using whatever means necessary."

With the plan set, they begin to disperse. Only I remain motionless. After a quick glance about the room, Oakley strolls to my side.

"You err.... you seem different today. I mean, since Sellafield...."

"I've grown up."

With that, I stand and look him dead in the eye before marching towards the exit. I'm hungry.

I keep thinking about that kiss. And the feelings it brought to the surface. It would be so easy to give in. But, how could anyone love me, when I look like this? And I'm dying. I don't want to fall in love, only to break a heart. Earlier it was easy to walk away, I had other things on my mind. But now, it won't be so easy to resist Landon if she....

"Can I come in?"

I turn to see Landon in the doorway. I nod and she enters, closing the door behind her. I turn away.

"You were about to say something. In the car, before we were interrupted."

"I don't see why you would be attracted to me. All I get are pointed fingers and whispers. People, taking the piss. I'm dying."

I know she doesn't really believe that. She still has hope, it burns in her eyes. I know better. She's silent for a long time.

"You and I are very alike you know – stubborn, fiery.... I can't just ignore what I feel."

She moves towards me. I feel her behind, her breath on my neck. At this point, it would be easy to give in. And maybe I should. Maybe I should indulge myself in lust and sex. It would take my mind off everything, for a while at least. It seems that kiss has weakened my defences. I close my eyes as she touches my shoulder. Turning to face her, I look deep into her eyes and I'll be honest, I'm torn. One part of me wants to surrender. The other half of me wants to run.

She caresses my face and whispers. "Let me in. I could love you, if you let me."

So what do I do? I raise my hand to caress her hair and cheek. Her skin is warm and soft, delicate. I'm almost afraid I'll break her. I swallow hard as I surrender.

I don't pull away as she kisses me. I answer the kiss. It's tender and passionate, intoxicating and.... The question is, do I let this continue? As we part and I look into her eyes, I can't help but take another kiss, wrapping my arms around hers, desperate to feel her body on mine. She cups my face, answering my kiss. We don't part as our hands feel every inch of each other's bodies, as they pull and tear at clothing. We fall back onto the bed, our bodies touching and arching together. The touch of her body on mine excites every inch of my flesh. We bite and scratch. Kiss with both mouths and tongues. Hands, bodies give pleasure that surges and swells, over and over again. We both moan as the pleasure reaches unimaginable peaks and beyond. I make sure the burns on my body are always by the sheets.

"So were you a virgin then?"

I look down at her as she rests on her elbows and laugh. I'm sat up resting against the wall and I stretch my arms above my head.

"You can't ask me that."

"Why not?" She laughs as I blush and shake my head. "Ok. So what can I ask you?"

I choke a little. I don't know how to answer that. I half laugh, resting one arm behind my head.

"You can ask me, if I want you to stay the night."

She smiles. "Do you want me to stay the night?"

I don't answer. I just nod. She pulls herself up onto her knees and I find my hand wandering down her body. She is so beautiful, she takes my breath, my words away. Sitting on top of me, she snakes her arms around my neck before placing a soft kiss onto my lips. As her hand slips between the sheets to my groin, I give a slight moan.

"Then I'll stay," she whispers.

I close my eyes as I nestle into her flesh, my own flesh surrendering to hers.

EIGHT: MORE QUESTIONS THAN ANSWERS

I rest in Caitlin's arms, my head on her bosom. Her grip is tight as she cradles me to her. We're watching the sunrise and its rays warm our skin as they fall across our bodies.

"Why do you like me?" I ask in a whisper.

"You take my breath away, you're intelligent. I feel like, I've known you all my life. You have a fire that burns... so bright. You're the strongest woman I've ever met, but you're.... broken." She looks down at me and smiles. "I want to fix you."

"I'll be honest with you. I.... I tried my hardest to resist you."

"Then why give in now?"

"Things have changed."

I smile faintly as I realise she's staring but say nothing more on the subject. She plants a kiss onto the top of my head and I breathe her in. Her scent intoxicates me, imprisons me, but it can't last. I sigh, rolling onto my back.

"So when's Lucas back?"

She rolls onto her side, resting on her elbow to stare at me. "Tonight."

She kisses me, moving a strand of hair from my face. I sigh as I jump from the bed, the sheets firmly wrapped around my body.

"I need a shower."

She makes no attempts to move. I stare hard at her biting my lip. Finally, she looks over to me.

"You... want me to go?"

"Please." I swallow hard.

She holds my gaze before dragging herself up. She pulls on her cloths before brushing past me to leave.

I find Caitlin on the firing range. I say nothing. She hasn't noticed me, so I stand against the wall, watching. She looks even more beautiful than she did two hours ago. She aims the weapon, gripped so tight but gently, down the range at the target and fires.

"Bulls eye."

She jumps, caught off guard, before smiling at me.

"I want to go with you – tonight."

"I don't think that's a good idea, Harry." She places the weapon back onto the rack. "It's not going to be pretty."

"I'm going – whether you like it or not. Chester lied to me. Right to my face."

She lets out an audible breath before scratching her forehead. It's useless to argue with me. "Fine. But we're going in armed so.... you're going to need to learn how to use a gun."

"Is that necessary?"

"Yes. There's a strong possibility he has armed guards. You saw those two yesterday – they were armed. Two nine millimetres stuffed into their pockets."

I didn't see that. But then, Caitlin has a trained eye for these things. I'm not happy about it but I nod.

"Caitlin, this morning, I wasn't...."

Before I can continue, Tate strolls in carrying two black Kevlar vests. Caitlin doesn't take her eyes off of me.

"We're going to need an extra one of those, Andy. Harry's coming with us."

"Is that...," he starts but after a stone hard look from me, nods. "No problem."

As he exits, I look back to Caitlin.

"I wasn't blowing you off."

"It's ok. Really."

I bite my lip as she turns back to the gun rack.

Learning to fire a weapon is a.... surreal experience. I never imagined I'd be learning to use a deadly weapon. Good thing Caitlin has a lot of patience. Although, learning to prep and fire a weapon is one thing. Using it, actually firing and possibly killing a live target, is quite another. There's a moral question for me, personally. I've never liked guns, I've never advocated violence. But here I am, learning to use a gun, with the possibility, I might have to use it, and possible kill someone.

Ten minutes to one. It's a private airstrip. Quiet, dark, abandoned. All three of us wear Kevlar and carry a nine millimetre sidearm each - live rounds. His plane has just landed – he's early. Two jeeps are speeding towards the plane. They appear to be occupied by armed men.

"They're armed – MP5s." Tate mutters, his eyes never leaving the night vision scope.

Lucas emerges at the door of the plane and begins his decent. Revving the engine, Caitlin floors the accelerator. My heart's pounding as we screech to a halt and jump out, guns in hand. Shots are fired and we're forced to use the vehicles as cover. Chester cowers behind his mercenaries. There are eight of them and three of us - and I'm no soldier. I can't help feeling like more of a hindrance than a help. But I raise the weapon and fire – just like Caitlin taught me. I can almost feel the bullets as they whiz past my head. Glass shatters and showers us. Metal ricochets, missing flesh by mere centimetres. I fire but I miss. Deliberately. I can't quite bring myself to shoot a man. As I take cover, I chance a quick look ahead, only to see Chester scrambling into the driver's seat of one of the jeeps. Tate and Caitlin are deep into the fire fight, I guess it's up to me. Taking a breath and expecting to be shot, I break cover. I fire blind in the general direction of the hostiles as I run faster than I've ever done before. I surprise myself. I'm at the door before Chester can start the engine. My hands tear at his shoulders and drag him from the seat. He struggles on the ground face down, but I sit on him, using all my might to pin him. It all seems to happen in slow motion, but it lasts only minutes. I look up to see Caitlin in front of me, cable ties at the ready to cuff Chester's hands. We drag him up together, and before we frog march him to our car, Caitlin slaps electricians tape across his mouth and throws a black bag over his head. Bunging him in the boot, we make good our escape. Chester's men lie dead on the tarmac behind us.

We stop outside a dilapidated warehouse - one of many abandoned since the recession. No streetlights either. Tate jumps out to open the door and we drive right inside. It's dark, dank, cold and water drips from rusting pipes above. Chester is dragged from the boot and deposited onto the ground. Landon tears the bag from his head and squeezes his cheeks, forcing him to look at her. Removing the tape from his mouth, she looks right into his eyes.

"You're part of a cover up of serious accidents in the nuclear industry. You recently covered up the deaths of two innocent people. Confess."

As an answer, he spits, and for that he receives a slap. Landon steps back slightly and paces the spot where she stands, hands on hips.

"You were at Sellafield the day after the accident, why?"

When he refuses to answer, Tate strides over and grabs his hair, yanking his head backwards.

"My colleague asked you a question. Answer!"

"Fuck you."

Landon chuckles. "Brave man, are we? You won't be so brave when I chop your testicles off." She squeezes his cheeks once more.

Silence.

"Who is Ernest Veer? Is he your boyfriend? Was he at Sellafield with you? Is he giving the orders?"

Silence.

"Where are the records - the ones from Sellafield? You will answer. I can do this all day, as long as it takes."

He looks up at her and just smiles. He must be drunk to be so brave.

"Fine. Have it your way."

Landon slaps him across his forehead before taping up his mouth once more and throwing the bag back over his head. She kicks him to the ground before stepping over him. We'll leave him to stew for a while.

Fear is an excellent weapon in the right hands. Chester's shaking like jelly. Landon and Tate pick up crowbars and smash them against the walls and piping. The sound is horrendous and it has the desired effect on Chester, who now sits in a puddle of urine. Tate fills two buckets with ice cold water and one by one throws them over him. Landon stands over him, her boot at his groin – not hard enough to really hurt him, but certainly hard enough for him to know her foot's there. You can imagine what's racing through Chester's mind right now. With terror engraved into him, it's time to question him again. Striding towards him, Caitlin removes the bag from his head and pulls the tape from his mouth. She circles him.

"Sir Lucas Chester. Politician. Businessman. An alcoholic and a cheat. Do you think your wife would miss you if you were to disappear?"

He screws his eyes shut in an effort to ignore her. Stopping in front of him, Caitlin slaps him forcing a small cry from his lips. She squeezes his cheeks and forces him to look at her.

"It would be easy. We can make it look like a nasty, tragic accident. Suicide even. No one would ever know the truth," she strolls past. "Who's to say they'd even find a body. I mean, people disappear without a trace all the time. Never seen again."

He swallows hard but still refuses to speak.

"We could cut you into tiny little pieces. Throw you onto a bonfire."

Tate chuckles. "Put you in a meat pie."

"What do you want from me?" Chester croaks.

"So he speaks." Caitlin stops in front of him once more. "We want the truth, Lucas. We know you covered up the accident at Sellafield."

"You're wrong."

"Really?" She forces him to look at me. "Her parent's records are missing. The knowledge of their deaths has been denied - access beyond classified. Her medical records have been, at the very least, censored. You've used her, and tried to silence her. Facts. Also fact – you were at Sellafield, the day after the accident. You had no reason to be there. You had a friend with you - he also had no reason to be there. And this isn't first accident where your name has popped up."

He looks from me to Caitlin but remains silent.

"Tell us what you know, Lucas, and no one gets hurt."

"You're trying to scare me – it won't work," he bites through gritted teeth. He's obviously bluffing.

"I and my colleague have been doing this for a long time. We're not afraid of using.... unsanctioned methods. So far, we've been polite, friendly even. We gave you the benefit of the doubt. It would be much easier on you, and your family, if you cooperated."

"You're bluffing."

"Can you afford to take that chance? Your friend – he wouldn't happen to have been Sir Ernest Veer, would he? Your father and his were good friends I believe. Deep connections to the industry - partners. Lot of time and money invested in it. And your father, he always made sure certain things were kept out of the public gaze, didn't he? Just like you."

He swallows hard. He's rattled. We've clearly hit a nerve.

"Tell me how deep you're in this and I can help. Give me the names of the ones who are really at the heart of this."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"If you're scared they'll come after you, we can protect you."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

She sighs. "Listen to me, we know there is some sort of conspiracy...."

"Conspiracy theory, really?" Chester scoffs.

"We have evidence to support the theory. There have been multiple nuclear accidents, covered up, dating right back to the late '50s, starting with Windscale. October 10th 1957 ring any bells?"

He trembles but says nothing.

"Tell me about Sir Ernest Veer. Did he visit Sellafield with you? Is he involved? Is he pulling the strings? Is he threatening you, Lucas?"

Silence.

"We can stay here, for as long as it takes. Now I'm being nice here. I can easily turn nasty."

"I've told you before, I don't know anything." He laughs and scoffs. "You're fantasists and scaremongers. If you had proof, of any such thing, we wouldn't be here."

"We know you have connections to Veer."

"Family friend, so what? And he's untouchable."

Chester smiles and goes to say something else but stops. He frowns and looks to the floor. The last sentence, he shouldn't have said that. Caitlin glances to Tate and they share a smirk.

"So he is involved?"

He swallows. "That is.... that's not what I meant."

"No? Why don't I believe you?"

"You people..... you're just..... pathetic. Fantasists. Nothing more."

Before Caitlin can speak, I step forward. I can feel the rage but am determined to stay calm and in control. "And what about my parents? The IAEA warned the powers that be what could happen. Men like you ignored them. And then you covered up – using me."

He swallows hard. "Harry.... we didn't cover up. There was nothing to cover up. Their deaths.... were regrettable. Simple admin error has lost their files. As for you.... we were trying to protect you. You don't want to be a lab rat, do you? You're an intelligent young woman. Don't waste your time with these.... conspiracy theorists."

"Yeah, I'm intelligent. And I can see right through you, Sir Lucas Chester. See right through the lies and bullshit. I've done a lot of growing up lately, I've had a lot to think about, things I've had to just accept. If you don't want to admit the truth, fine. But either way, Lucas, this is going to end. Men like you are going to fall, I'm going to make sure of it. For my parents sake. Enjoy your freedom while you can."

"Harry, don't be blinded by their lies."

"Their lies! What about yours? Does your wife know about the women and the drink? Look at you – you stink of booze. Was it you, Lucas? Did you order the staff at Sellafield to keep their mouths shut? Did you sweep away the IAEA inspection and recommendations? You won't answer, will you? You're a pathetic coward and in my eyes, a murderer. I'm dying because of men like you, you bastard! I'm dying and there's no...."

I scoff and walk back to the car, sitting inside and slamming the door. I have no desire to listen to any more of his lies.

I watch Caitlin continue to question Chester. After a few minutes, she confers with Tate before joining me.

"He won't say anything more. We could try to loosen his tongue but...."

"Why don't you just kill him?"

She's shocked by my callous comment. She just stares at me.

"You didn't even torture him - not properly."

"Harry, we have to be careful. There are lines we.... Stay here."

As she gets out of the car, I call out. "They would do it to us."

She seemingly ignores my comment as she places more tape across Chester's mouth. Glancing back at me and then to him, she bites her lip before throwing the bag back over his head. Together Caitlin and Tate drag him up and reinsert him into the boot.

We stop on a quiet back road. Tate gets out and, scanning the area, drags Chester out of the boot. He throws him to the ground before cutting his hands loose.

"Say anything, to anyone, about this and we will come and get you. We will hunt you down. And by the time we've finished with you, you'll be begging me to put you out of your misery."

We leave him there, in a puddle of mud on the side of the road.

UKAEA FACILITY.

"He was scared. Someone's put the fear of god into him to keep his mouth shut." Caitlin slumps down in her seat, wringing her hands.

"Veer?" I ask.

"Could be. Their father's are connected and he has connections to Chester himself."

Oakley steps forward. "Yes. I'm trying to dig deeper into Veer's background but it's proving.... difficult. They've only been seen together at social occasions."

"You said he was at Sellafield with Chester." I comment.

"No. I said I believe it was him."

I slump in my seat. "So again, more questions. No answers."

Caitlin stands. "I say we pay Veer a visit."

Oakley grimaces but sighs. "Just be tactful. He has powerful friends, and if he is involved...."

I can't help feeling we're going round in circles. And what do we actually know? Nothing. Only what we knew at the start. A few names. Brick walls.

"Can I talk to you?"

Caitlin pops her head around the door before entering. She watches me for a second before smiling and sitting next to me on the bed.

"You want to talk about your little outburst with Chester?"

"What about it?"

"You said you're dying, and I'm guessing you were going to say, there's no cure."

"Yes. Because it's the truth."

"You don't know that. Alison or Dale could find a cure I'm sure."

I'm in no mood for arguing so I turn away from her.

"I'm tired, Caitlin, so could you go."

She stares at me for a second – I can feel her eyes burning into me – but she does as I ask.

I couldn't sleep so I thought I'd have a look on my laptop – see if I could find anything about Sir Veer that Oakley had missed. It's amazing what a simple internet search can pull up. I've found that, at every plant where there have been incidents, in the past ten years, Veer has money invested or shares in those plants. It could be a coincidence or it might be a missing link. After all, it proves there is a link between him and plants where there have been cover ups. At least it gives us a worm on the hook when we question him.

"You said you were tired."

"I.... It's a link."

"Yes." She looks up at me and holds my gaze. I know that look. "You didn't answer me."

"I lied.... I didn't feel like talking, alright?"

She scrutinises me for a long time before letting out a breath. "Ok. We'll update the others and then head out."

"Now?"

"We should strike while the iron's hot."

Knowing my future, it would be nice to just stop for a moment. To go out and walk one last time on sandy beaches, dip my toes in the water. Just like when I was a kid. It would be nice to just sit and watch the world go by, without a care in the world, with an ice cream in my hand. To just laugh. Nightclubs and roller coasters. All the things we take for granted.

"So about this dying lark."

I look up at her. "If you're going to say we'll find a cure, don't."

She stares hard at me before letting out a deep sigh. As far as I'm concerned, there's nothing more to say on this matter.

We're going to play it softly with Veer – to begin with at least. He's a very powerful man. Push too hard.... I'm going to make it look like we need his help. Like, genuinely, instead of an interrogation. Compliment him and his work etcetera. It took us four hours to get here with the weather. We can play on that. His office looks impressive, judging by the reception area. The most expensive furnishings. Round the clock cleaning service to keep everything sparkling.

"Perhaps you would all like some tea? After your long journey?" Veer asks.

"Coffee would be good, thank you." Caitlin glances at me and Tate, rubbing her hands together as if trying to warm them.

Veer smiles – a smile I can't really describe, false – before sending his secretary away. He turns back to us. That smile is creepy.

"Well, what can I do for you?"

Before Caitlin can answer, I step forward. "We need your help."

She looks up at me as if to say, what are you doing, but I ignore her. She looks at Tate and he shrugs his shoulders. Veer looks right at me and the burns. I see sympathy in his eyes. Again, false. Other than that, he doesn't seem disturbed by the burns, unlike Chester.

"Of course. You're Harriet Jenkins – Harry. The one they call The Sellafield One. How can I be of assistance?"

I sit opposite him. I look back at Caitlin. She's not happy about what I'm doing but is playing along. "What do you know about what happened at Sellafield?"

"Very little I'm afraid. Only that it was an accident waiting to happen. And little fools blatantly ignored what was staring them in the face."

"What do you know about me?"

"Only that you were hurt."

I swallow. "My parents died. Were you aware of that?"

He shakes his head. "No. I'm sorry."

"You see, you have powerful friends. You're a good man, we're told. It was covered up – Sellafield, the consequences. All of my parents' records are missing. My medical records have been.... censored, erased."

Veer sits forward. "And what did the men in charge tell you?"

"Admin error."

He takes a deep breath. "It's possible. Computers – you can't always trust them."

"The thing is, we think there has been a cover up."

He raises an eyebrow. "A cover up?"

"And we think an old friend of yours may be involved - Sir Lucas Chester. He's a frightened man, but we can help him. If he talks to us."

"Yes, I see. His father and mine were good friends. Very close. Partners in business. But I'm afraid, Chester and I aren't as close as we used to be. Work, political differences. Our friendship isn't what it was."

"It is important. You see, his name keeps popping up at other.... incidents of the nuclear kind. We'd like to help him. But unfortunately, he won't talk to us. I don't think he trusts us. He might trust you."

"I'm not so sure," he smiles at me.

"Why not?"

"Like I said, differences. Too much water under the bridge."

"Ok, forget Chester. Can you help me? I need closure. I don't know what's happening to me. These people have made it so that it's like my parents didn't even exist. Sellafield was covered up. IAEA recommendations were ignored and swept under the carpet. Why?"

He stares at me for a long time. It's like he's trying to read me. I won't allow that. I remain firmly blank.

"We know you have connections." I continue. "A powerful voice in the nuclear industry."

"True. You mentioned IAEA recommendations?"

Now Caitlin steps in. "Yes. Concerning safety aspects that needed immediate attention. They were ignored. They said there wasn't time to carry them out."

"Perhaps there wasn't."

I answer before Caitlin. "The inspection was six months before the accident."

He sighs and sits back in his chair. "So there was a cover up."

"More than that. We think there's a conspiracy of some sort going on."

"What do you mean?"

I look at Caitlin before looking him in the eyes. I want to watch his reaction closely. "We have evidence of numerous accidents, around the UK, that have been covered up, completely denied even." I leave out the bit about his links to those plants.

He swallows hard and breaks eye contact. A sure sign of guilt perhaps?

"Evidence?"

"We can't disclose our evidence to outside parties at this time, sir." Caitlin answers, glancing quickly to me. She noticed his reaction too.

"Well.... I'll certainly try to help. In the meantime, why don't you take advantage of my hospitality. Please, my driver will take you to my hotel. Best suit – on me."

"Thank you, but...." Caitlin starts.

"Please. I insist." He flashes that smile again. It's really starting to unnerve me.

Caitlin looks to both me and Tate before nodding. "Very well. Thank you, sir."

"My pleasure."

He watches us leave, that smile never leaving his lips. I don't know what to make of this guy. He's clever.

He really has given us the best suit. You certainly couldn't afford to stay here on minimum wage. Or a living wage for that matter. This is the hotel of the super rich, the ones in the ivory towers, the ones at the top of the chain. There are two bed rooms plus a full size living room. And the bathroom is made of marble by the looks of it.

As we get settle in, one of the hotel staff knocks on our door. Tate answers and allows him to enter.

"I have an invitation for the young lady – Miss Jenkins. Sir Veer expresses his compliments and hopes you will join him for diner this evening."

I look at Caitlin and she looks at me. I'm about to decline the offer when she pulls me aside.

"Accept."

"What? No."

"Harry, he might tell you something important. You led the questioning back there, you're the one he trusts."

I sigh. "Tell Sir Veer, I would love to join him for diner." As he leaves, I scowl at Caitlin. "I have nothing to wear."

"I can sort that out," she smiles and winks at me.

"If he tries anything, I won't be held responsible for my actions."

I refused to wear the dress Caitlin found. It revealed too much of the burns for my liking. So she's chose me a trouser suit instead. Coming down to dinner, I got quite a few looks. I tried to ignore them but it's difficult when they whisper. I'm also wearing a wire - a little device so that Caitlin and Tate can hear every word spoken between myself and Veer. That makes me nervous slightly. What if Veer realises? Worse, it means they can also hear the whispered things about me. They'll be getting firsthand experience of what it's like to be me.

"Miss Jenkins." Veer leers at me in his white diner jacket. "So glad you decided to join me." He takes my hand and kisses it. He doesn't seem bothered by the burned flesh. "Please, this way."

He leads me into the restaurant and to a table. Like a true gentleman, he pulls out my chair for me before sitting opposite. And I thought chivalry was dead. I can help but notice the faces around me. They stare and whisper to their companions. Veer seems to notice my discomfort as he takes my burned hand in his and smiles.

"Ignore them my dear. They are ignorant fools."

I return the smile. "As you can imagine, I.... I err... don't socialise much these days."

"People can be awfully cruel, can't they?" He releases my hand before summoning the waiter. "Well, don't it let spoil our evening. Champaign - only the very best. And caviar, we must have caviar." As the waiter leaves us, he looks to me. "So, what's a young woman like you, doing working for the IAEA? You could, should, be living it up. Seeing the world."

"Like I said – I need closure."

"Yes. But still...."

"I'm dying, Sir Veer."

"Ernest, please. Dying?"

"Something happened to me in that incident. No one seems to know what."

"I'm sorry. It must be very... difficult for you."

"That's why our investigation is so important. Chester is a key player."

He averts his eyes for a moment before swallowing. It's one of those things that you could easily miss. But I don't miss anything.

"Chester is.... well he's not the... sharpest tool in the box. He's certainly not a decision maker. But he's a good man. And he wouldn't be caught up in such a thing willingly."

"You think he's being coerced?" I ask.

"It's possible," he smirks as he sips his Champaign.

That's a reveal. He didn't pick up on the point that I said, 'being' coerced, instead of was. I'll probe deeper.

"He was at Sellafield, the day after the accident. He had a friend – an unknown male. Do you have any ideas as to whom....?"

"No." He answers before I finish the question. "Look I'll be honest, I don't know how much help I'm going to be. Chester and I have grown apart and I know very little about the accident."

Is that an admission? Men like him have insisted on calling it an incident. Now he's freely using the word accident. I'm going to take a chance with my next sentence.

I laugh a little. "You know we err.... we thought it might have been you - at Sellafield with Chester."

Again he breaks eye contact and swallows before bursting into, what I'd call fake laughter. Put on.

I smile. "Well, it was just a passing thought. Late at night when we were.... mulling over facts. You know how it is. Ideas just pop into the mind, don't they?"

"Absolutely."

"I meant no offence," I add as an afterthought.

"You have to consider these things, otherwise you wouldn't be doing your job."

"Exactly."

After a few tense moments, he laughs and takes a breath.

"So how many accidents do you think there have been – and then covered up?" he asks.

"Quite a few. As I said before, we have proof of numerous incidents."

"And these accidents have been serious?"

Interesting, he still uses the word accident.

I lick my lips. "Some of them. But the last at Sellafield was the firsts where deaths have occurred."

"How deep do you think this goes?"

"That's what we intend to find out."

"I wish you luck. Although, the odds appear to be stacked against you. If I were you, Harry, I wouldn't be wasting my time on this."

So diner was interesting. But it seemed to just ask more questions. Veer's clever, that much was obvious. Is he involved? It's likely. I'll be honest, I don't know what to make of Veer. I have my suspicions, as does Caitlin, but we can't prove them. Yet. It's one in the morning and my brain is still in overdrive.

"I thought you might like some company. Given what you recently told me."

I turn to see Caitlin in the doorway. She smiles before closing the door and joining me on the bed.

"You know, your case is.... unheard of. You don't know what the future holds, Harry. Scientists are finding cures for diseases all the time."

"I wish that were true, Caitlin. So what do we do now?" I ask before she can argue with me.

She licks her lips. "Turn up the heat."

"Veer's clever. That makes him dangerous."

"That's why we carry guns."

NINE: INCOGNITO

"We hit them hard - both Chester and Veer. Wherever they go, we'll be there. Every public appearance – let's put our questions to them." Oakley pauses to look at each of us. "Alison I want you out there too. Use your findings from Sellafield. Let's really apply the pressure."

"No."

He looks to me. "What?"

"I said no. It's not working. What we have is pathetic, and they know it."

"Then what do you suggest?"

"I want to talk to Veer again." I stand. "Alone."

"Excuse me." Caitlin glares at me.

"You heard me. I'm the odd one out. Only here because I'm a... consequence. He knows that."

Oakley cuts me off. "That's not...."

"You're not listening."

I glare at Oakley and he looks into my eyes. He seems to understand as he rubs his chin.

"You're talking about going undercover?"

There's a long silence before Caitlin looks up at me.

"Do you realise the danger...."

"I'm all too aware... of the danger. The fact is we have nothing - a few names, a few connections. We go public, they'll laugh at us. We are going round in circles. It's time to change tactics."

Alison steps forward. "I hate to say this, Oscar, but she's right."

Caitlin scoffs. "It's stupid and it's dangerous, reckless even. You're not trained for this, Harry."

"What would you do? Keep questioning them and keep hit dead ends? Theses bastards are clever enough to dodge our questions. If he takes me into his confidence.... If I can get close, I might find documents, orders, something - perhaps something useful. Hard, undeniable evidence."

"But why you?!"

"Look at me! I am the Sellafield one! He believed every fucking word I said back there!"

Caitlin stands to confront me. "What makes you think it'll work? That he won't see right through you? Our own people are working against us, Harry!"

"We have to try! Because this, isn't working!"

As a stunned silence descends, Oakley stares hard at me for a long time. He's clearly surprised by my..... By how grown up I seem to be, by how focused and determined I am - they are all. Eventually he breaks eye contact and sits.

"Fine," he rubs his eyes. "We try it your way."

Now Caitlin turns her fire on him. "What?!"

"And you go with her," he orders.

I turn to him. "That's not...."

"He's dangerous, Harry! Clever. You vouch for Landon. Either she goes, or we continue to do this my way."

"Fair enough." I look from him to Caitlin. "But you follow my lead."

She scoffs. "I disagree with this, Oscar. She is not trained...."

"She's right! We can't go public with what we have, and we're getting nowhere with our questions. You go with her and follow her lead, and that is an order, Captain."

"Fine, but I am not happy about this."

Before I can leave to prepare, Oakley takes me by my arm and looks right into my eyes.

"You need to be very cautious around Veer. If he's anything like his father...."

"Oscar...."

"It was Veer's father at Sizewell."

I look back at the others and swallow. "So it was him who ordered...."

The look in his eyes stops me midsentence. "Just.... watch your back."

As I walk away, he calls out.

"So what's your plan?"

"What makes you think I have one?"

LONDON.

Now for the hard part. It's going to be a long, cold night. No thought of checking into a hotel – we're not supposed to be here. We have to make this look real.

"I hope you do understand the dangers, Harry. If he realises...."

"We don't have any other options. We can't keep hitting brick walls."

She stares at me. I think she too is surprised by how much growing up I've done lately. She has no words, no vocabulary. So I guess we'll sit in silence for the remainder of the night.

We arrived at his building early. He led us to his office where we now wait for the coffee to arrive. When it does, he dismisses his secretary before sitting opposite. He stares at us both, clearly curious and taken aback by our appearances.

"So, what can I do for you this time?"

I hesitate. I must be convincing. "We.... we haven't been very honest with you."

"Oh?"

"We know you still meet Chester. You've been seen with him on numerous occasions, including on a trip to Sellafield, the day after the accident. And we know you have a lot of money in the nuclear industry - at plants where there have been accidents covered up."

He sighs. "Yes. Are you accusing me of something? Being a part of this conspiracy perhaps?"

I look to Caitlin and back. I hope she'll follow my lead. "No. In fact.... we think there's a conspiracy against the industry, and you. That's why we're here."

He takes a moment to glare at both of us. "You had better explain."

Again I exchange glances with Caitlin - playing for time. "Oscar Oakley – he's hell-bent on blaming the politicians and the men in charge. He says he wants to protect the nuclear industry, in fact, he's trying to destroy it. And what's the best way to do that?"

I let Caitlin answer. "Concoct a conspiracy. Divide public opinion, suddenly no one wants to invest in new reactors and the industry falls."

"Why is he targeting me?"

"He blames your father for the death of his family."

He sits back, rubbing his chin. "So why are you two here? You are in the investigating taskforce."

I hold eye contact. "We thought it was about protecting a safer nuclear future. We didn't agree to target innocent men because of a vendetta, or lie to bring the industry down. You can't build a future on lies. And like it or not, nuclear is the future"

Caitlin adds after a quick look from me. "Accidents do happen, Sir Veer."

"If you learn from them, why worry the public? I and my friend here have found nothing that suggests any.... wrong doing."

He looks for me to her and back again. "You said you had proof."

"Yes. Proof that Oakley had planted or faked or forged. There are no missing documents, no cover ups. We're working for the wrong man."

Caitlin looks at me but I don't look back. It was hard enough to say it. Veer scrutinises both of us before standing and pacing. He doesn't know what to make of us or our story. I swallow hard trying to hold my nerve.

"So you two are on the run?"

We nod. He strolls to the window and rubs his chin, staring out at the bustling city below.

"Why should I believe you? What proof do you have that what've told today me is the truth?"

"None. And you don't have to believe us." I answer.

He sighs and rubs his chin once more. "I need to think about this. Go."

"But...."

"I said leave."

The look in his eyes – hard to describe. Like a raging animal. Wild, untamed. Terrifying. I look at Caitlin and we both stand. Looking back one last time at Veer, we leave, unsure of what to do next.

"What do you think?" I ask as we huddle once more in the back seat.

"I don't know, Harry. It's perfectly possible he saw right through us."

"Yeah, I think my story was a bit.... farfetched maybe."

"I don't know. Actually, I thought you played it rather well."

"Do you think this was a mistake?"

She sighs and rubs her hands together. "No."

"Have you still got that gun?"

She nods and I take a breath. Perhaps this wasn't a good idea after all.

Neither of us got much sleep. I'll be honest, I don't know what to do now. I thought that we'd come here, bluff it and he'd take us in. But it's not that simple, is it? The snows falling heavy now too. We can't stay here another night so we ditch the car. We need shelter - there are a few abandoned buildings on the outskirts of the city – so we head for them. I have a funny feeling we're being watched as we walk the streets. I catch a glimpse of someone in my peripheral vision, but when I turn there's no one. We're expecting to be followed. Veer wants proof.

Night's fallen fast. We find a quiet area in total darkness. There are a few outhouse type buildings, completely abandoned. We start a fire to keep warm but it's not enough. I hadn't thought this through. I was frustrated by the lack of progress.

"You're not the only one." Caitlin sits close to me, warming her hands over the fire. "Tired, frustrated. Wanting answers."

"Do you think this'll work?" I ask, keeping my voice as low as possible.

"I've done this a few times, trained for it but.... if it does, we'll have to be very careful. Veer's connected. He could make problems."

Before I can say anymore, there's a noise outside. Caitlin's straight on her feet, her hand on her weapon. I stand and strain my eyes to see. She looks back at me and puts her finger to her lips. Opening the door slightly, she peers out. Struggling to see in the dark, she motions for me to stay here, before stepping out. There's silence. Then a gunshot. I'm at the door and outside in a second. Silence has returned and there's no one about.

"Caitlin?"

Footsteps behind me, I turn but it's too dark. More steps head my way, behind me. Before I can turn, a hand is cupped over my mouth and two strong hands pull me backwards. There's no time to fight, everything goes black.

The bag is pulled from my head and a bucket of cold water is thrown over me. I'm tied to a chair and a hooded male is screaming at me. The room is dark, only a single light, right in my face blinding me.

"Where's my friend?!"

"You don't ask the questions bitch!" His hands grip my throat and squeeze. His face is right in mine. "You work for The Sellafield One Taskforce! You're an enemy!"

"No!"

"Yes! Your target is Sir Ernest Veer. You're trying to bring him down! Trying to set him up!"

"No!"

"Yes! You and your little friend are spies! You're trying to plant evidence! Trying to make him look guilty because you have nothing on him!"

"No!" I scream will all my might. "You've got it wrong! We were trying to warn him! We know what the taskforce is doing and it's wrong! We're on his side!"

"Liar! You're spies!" He squeezes my cheeks, hard. "Terrorists even. And we don't like those. We take pleasure in eradicating them." He looks me up and down, a dirty smile on his lips. "We'll have fun with you and your little friend. Go on for hours."

"You've got it wrong! You've got it so wrong, you can't see how wrong you've got it! We were the ones who warned Veer!"

"You lie!"

"Why would I lie?! Fucking look at me! I've got no reason to fucking lie!"

The male holds my gaze for a moment before smiling and stepping back. After a second, he opens a steel door and Sir Veer enters. He stands before me and orders the male to release me.

"I apologise for this, my dear. You understand, I have enemies that will try anything. I had to be sure that what you told me was the truth. That you weren't undercover."

I stand, my breathing deep and heavy.

"Where's Caitlin?"

"Being released as we speak. She's fine. Put up quite a fight – two of my men are lying dead."

"What do you expect? You had us... fucking kidnapped!"

"And I apologise. But I can't afford to take chances. Please."

He motions for me to follow him and I obey. I meet Caitlin in the corridor. I guess she got it harder than me. She's covered in blood and I can't help but notice the wounds to her face and arms.

"Harry. Are you alright?"

"Yeah, fine. You?"

She nods. Her eyes never leave mine.

"I think we let Chester off lightly."

She laughs and I join her.

"Please, ladies, this way."

Veer's limousine takes us to his hotel in the heart of London. He escorts us up to the suit on the topmost floor. We're tired and weary, so we're not really paying attention to our surroundings.

"Make yourselves at home, we'll talk later. Once you've.... freshened up." He smiles and turns to exit. At the door, he looks back. "Once again, I apologise for.... this." With that, he exits.

I look at Caitlin and she looks at me. Neither of us knows what to do. We're still on edge, the adrenaline hasn't yet subsided. It only now I really notice her wounds.

I swallow hard. "You should.... clean those up."

She doesn't answer. She turns and drags herself to the bathroom. I hesitate but follow. I watch her from the doorway as she fills the basin. The wounds clearly hurt. I swallow very hard before moving towards her as she struggles to peel off her clothing. I'm suddenly overwhelmed with guilt.

"This was a stupid idea, wasn't it? I didn't think it through, I didn't...."

"Harry. Don't." She bites her lip as she dabs at the wounds. "From this point, you don't say anything more that'll give us away, do you understand?"

"But...."

"Listen to me, stop. It's too late to go back."

I swallow hard as I stare at her wounds. "Why did they.... hurt you like this?"

"I'm the soldier, aren't I? Military Intelligence." She looks at me and licks her bottom lip. "I'm sorry if I snapped at you. But you're not trained for this type of work. This.... game is a dangerous one. Deadly."

"Your turn to be angry at me now then."

"I'm not angry at you, Harry. You said it yourself, you didn't think it through. Not thinking can be fatal. From now on, you think, very hard, before saying a single word."

"You've done this for a long time, haven't you?"

She closes her eyes and hangs her head. "Yes. I've seen friends, make stupid mistakes, a stupid slip of the tongue. And it's cost them their lives."

"I won't."

She looks up at me and caresses my cheek.

"You're not the woman you were when we first met. Since Sellafield, something's happened to you."

I pull back and turn away.

"What's going on in your head, Harry?"

I swallow hard and turn back to her. I hesitate. "You and I – we need to have a serious conversation. A conversation were you, just listen."

With that, I turn and march from the room. She stares after me but says nothing.

"Once again, I feel I must apologise for your treatment. I'm sure you understand I had to be sure I could trust you."

Caitlin and I exchange glances before turning back to Veer. I clear my throat.

"We understand."

"Good. So this.... conspiracy."

"We found out by accident."

"Hence why you ditched your car and slept rough." Veer sits back in his chair and clasps his hands together.

I look to Caitlin and swallow. Her words of last night ring in my ears. I need to hold it together. "Oakley's a dangerous man. Incensed."

"Why is he targeting me again?"

"He believes your father ordered the.... assassination of his family. After an incident at Sizewell B."

Caitlin looks at me before adding. "Hence why he wants to bring down the industry. He felt the incident was covered up and claims he was threatened to keep his mouth shut."

"Why would my father do such a thing?"

"Exactly. That's why we're here, Ernest. It's stopped being about a safer nuclear future. This is about a personal vendetta." I let out a deep breath. "You're a good man, like your father. Both philanthropists, from what we've seen and heard."

He smiles. "My father tried to be the best he could. Started from nothing."

Caitlin sits forward. "Let us help. We know how Oakley works."

He's silent for a moment. He pulls himself up and strolls to the window. "My driver will take you back to the hotel. Please, make yourselves comfortable."

I exchange glances with Caitlin and we stand. I look back at Veer as we exit, but he remains silent. On the way out, we can't help but notice the two, tank like goons that drag themselves into his office.

At the hotel, before I can say anything, Caitlin grabs my arm and pulls me into the bathroom. She closes the door and starts the shower. I stare at her, waiting for an explanation.

"Did you see those two men? They were outside the hotel when we left for Veer's office."

"So?"

"He doesn't trust us. If my instincts are right, those two were in here, planting listening devices."

"Like we did with Chester?"

She nods. I sigh. "If we need to discuss our plans, we do it in here, with the shower on."

I nod and turn to leave, but Caitlin grabs my arm and pulls me back. She looks deep into my eyes and I know what's coming next.

"You want to have that conversation now?"

I open my mouth to speak but change my mind. I break free of her grip and walk out. I sit on the two seater sofa and stare out of the windows. She joins me. Her closeness sends my senses spiralling.

"Harry?"

"Not now. I'm tired."

"I thought you didn't sleep."

I ignore her comment as I walk into one of the bedrooms and shut the door. Fighting back tears, I slide to the floor, resting my chin on my knees. I need a clear head for this.... road ahead. I don't know if I'm going to wake up.... each day is a gift, so I need to get to the truth.

"I'm willing to take a chance on you two. For the moment. What you've told me, appears to be the truth." Veer turns from his window and sits.

Caitlin coughs. "You should beef up your personal security."

"So should Chester."

He shoots me a look – one I can't decipher – and holds my gaze. I look to Caitlin and clear my throat.

"He was our primary target after all."

"I am aware of that, Miss.... Can I call you Harry?" I nod and he smiles. "Harry. I had a very interesting conversation with him, only this morning."

Again, I look to Caitlin. "We are very sorry for our treatment of Sir Chester. We were both taken in by Oakley's lies, sir."

"Yes.... I'm sure your knowledge will be most invaluable. Wait by my car. I have an appointment with Sir Chester in one hour."

We meet Chester in a restaurant, on the edge of the city. The waiter escorts us to a private room at the rear. The look on Chester's face when he sees us walk in, Caitlin especially – I wish I had a camera. The diner and chat are insignificant. Just normal, everyday chitchat. Nothing we can use. Something about this doesn't feel right. They seem a little too polite, considering....

As we exit the restaurant, Caitlin's suddenly on edge. Something's caught her expertly trained eye. I follow her firmly fixed gaze - two men stand at a stall across the road, holding unfolded newspapers but not reading them. The men appear to be watching us – covertly. They're shifty, looking from us to the papers. Out of place somehow. Chester and Veer seem unfazed as they continue their conversation.

"Get in the car." Caitlin orders, her eyes never leaving the men.

Chester goes to protest but she glares at him.

"Get in the car. Harry."

As we usher Veer and Chester into the back, the two men glance at each other and step forward, watching us very closely, dropping the newspapers to the ground. As Caitlin starts the engine, the men make for us, pulling something from their jacket pockets.

"Floor it!"

As we speed past the men, it becomes very clear they're holding pistols as bullets shatter the rear windows.

They give chase and we speed through the streets of London, dodging and weaving our way through the congestion. The pursuit doesn't faze Caitlin. She keeps her foot firmly on the accelerator and doesn't falter for one second. Her concentration is amazing. My heart's pounding. Even when more bullets head our way, her eyes never leave the road ahead. I can almost see her mind working meticulously. Chester is cowering but Veer - Veer seems too calm for my liking. At times, I almost catch him smirking. I don't know what it is, but something's niggling at me - this feels like a set up. I hold onto my seat for life as we swerve around a corner. Steadying the wheel, Caitlin reaches into her pocket, pulls out her gun and hands it to me.

"Fire back."

"Are you crazy?!"

"Just do it!"

I look at her then at the weapon. With a sigh I roll down the window and remove my belt. Turning in the seat, I can't believe I'm really about to do this. Sticking my head and shoulders out, I take aim and fire with trembling hands. Now I'm sure I've caught Veer smiling. Running out of bullets, I pull myself back inside just as we swerve around another corner.

"Try and hit their tires."

Reloading, I try again. And this time my bullets find the target. The front right tire bursts as the bullets slam into it. The car spins out of control and collides with a lamp post, smoke rising from the engine.

We screech to a halt outside Veer's building and take a moment before falling out. Caitlin stands, glaring at Veer.

"That was a set up, wasn't it?"

He continues to smile as he looks to Chester. "A test."

I turn my fire on him. "Test?!"

"And you passed. You're in."

"A fucking set up!"

Veer jut smiles. "I had to be sure I can trust you. Completely."

I glare at him. I want to argue so more but Caitlin grips my shoulder.

"Harry, it's alright. He's right. I'd do exactly the same in his position."

A test. Still, it doesn't matter now, he trust us. Now the real hard work begins. And this is the most dangerous part.

"Hopefully tomorrow we'll be able to explore his offices. We might have to split up so you carry a gun at all times."

I scratch my cheek. "Shouldn't we take it slowly?"

"Absolutely not. The longer we're on the inside, the more chance there is that they'll catch us out."

"And if they do?"

"Then we use the guns." She turns the shower off and turns back to me, blocking my exit. "So, that conversation. Do you...."

Before she can continue, I kiss her, my hands clutching her hips. A kiss she can't resist. She snakes her arms through mine, our lips locked. My fingers race to unbutton her blouse before fondling her bosom. She slips her hands inside my shirt, scratching at the flesh. She bites and kisses my neck. She pushes me back into the cabinet, fiddling with my belt buckle. Pushing her back slightly, I turn her to the cabinet and lift her onto it. As we continue in our passion, I open my eyes and stop. Motionless, I stare at my reflection in the mirror, and reality hits. Breathless, Caitlin stares at me.

"Harry?"

I step back, my eyes never leaving the mirror. Caitlin follows my gaze and swallows, jumping down from the cabinet. She caresses my face, pulling me to her. Planting a sensual kiss onto my lips, she takes my hands and leads me towards her bedroom.

TEN: CONFRONTATIONS

"Keep your eyes open but be discreet."

With Caitlin's words ringing in my ears, I stroll down the corridors of Veer's building. There are many of them with ample locked doors. Caitlin suggested we check security and Veer agreed, so we have access to the entire building – though the locked doors are a problem. I'm trying to get inside the mind of a man like Veer – if there are documents exposing the truth, where would he keep them? Close to him perhaps, his office? But searching his office won't be easy, unless he goes out for lunch. So for now, I'll continue my tour of the building - you never know what I might find. One thing that does trouble me – this all seems too easy. Veer accepting our word, taking us in. And there doesn't appear to be many guards around the building. Maybe it's just me but, this doesn't feel right.

After another unfruitful sweep of endless corridors, I enter the lift and hit a random button. As I wait, my patience wearing thin, I notice something on the panel I didn't notice before - an unmarked button for a floor below the basement – a subbasement level. Unsure but curious, I press it.

The lift doors open out into another corridor. This one is barely lit and badly maintained. It looks like no one's been down here for years. I stop as I hear a splash and look down to see a puddle of... something. It's not water, it smells... odd. I cough and pinch my nose before continuing. As I come to the end of the corridor, it widens out into a... cul-de-sac. There's a single red light above and it flickers on and off. There must be water in circuitry – you can hear the sizzling when it blinks off. I strain my eyes to see. At the very end, there appears to be three large, steel doors. Vault doors. Heavily armoured, encrypted. Whatever's in there, Veer obviously wants to make sure it can't be gotten at.

"What are you doing down here?"

I jump, turning to the security guard. I notice his hand is hovering over the baton at his waist as he glares down at me.

"I'm...," I clear my throat, "checking security. Sir Veer's orders."

He looks me up and down, chewing his jaw. His hand remains at his baton.

"This area is off limits. I'm going to have to ask you to leave."

"Why?"

He doesn't answer, he continues to glare at me.

I nod to the doors. "What's behind those doors?"

Again, he just stares at me. "I won't ask you again." His hand grips the baton.

Something tells me he's quite willing to use that baton. I smile courteously and nod before heading for the lift.

"I happened to hear he's out for lunch tomorrow with a familiar face - Evelyn Sampson." Caitlin dries her face with the towel. "That's our chance to search his office, see if we can find any indication as to what's in those vaults."

"Caitlin.... Do you smell a rat? I mean, doesn't all this seem just a little too easy?"

"How do you mean?"

"Think about it. He's accepted our word too quickly for my liking. And me, stumbling across those vaults today – it feels like a set up, like he wanted me to find them. I'm telling you, this doesn't make sense. It feels wrong."

"Perhaps. But it's too late to go back. Hold your nerve, and keep your eyes and ears open."

I was called in to see Veer, so I now stand outside his office. I exchange glances with Caitlin as she passes but, before I can speak, Veer calls me in. I swallow hard before entering. He greets me with his usual polite smile, slightly seductive, slightly knowing.

"Harry, I was wondering if you'd care to join me for lunch."

I hesitate, buying time to think up an excuse. "I.... would love to, but...."

"Then it's settled."

"No, I...."

"My dear, no is not a word I accept."

He stares hard into my eyes. He's not going to take no for an answer.

"Then how could I refuse."

His smile explodes into a grin and he stands, taking my hand in his. "Excellent."

Caitlin will have to search his office without me.

Sat in the back of his limousine, I don't know what I'm feeling. Apprehensive, concerned? The feeling that all this has been too easy refuses to go away. Whatever happens, I think we'll soon know the truth.

"Why do you cover your face?"

I turn from the window to see Veer scrutinising me. When I don't answer, he snakes his right hand under my hood to touch the burned flesh. Pulling the hood down, he brushes my hair from my face. Uncomfortable I pull away.

"You shouldn't have to hide, my dear."

"People are cruel. People only see what they want to see."

Again he runs his fingers over the flesh. "I don't. You are still a very beautiful woman. Intelligent too."

I turn away from him to stare at the passing city once more. I swallow. Something isn't right, but I can't put my finger on it.

"You told me you're dying."

"True."

"Then why waste your time with this? If I were you, I'd be travelling the world."

"I haven't got a passport."

He laughs at that. Again, I find myself unable to read him. I want to probe deeper.

"Doesn't your wife mind the long hours?"

"Regrettably, I don't have a wife. It's one area I've neglected. My work needs constant attention. It leaves no time for romance."

"You could delegate."

"No. One prefers to keep a firm hand on the tiller. That way, things do not slip into chaos."

"You mean you don't lose your control?"

He laughs. "Exactly."

Once again, lunch is at a restaurant outside of central London and we're ushered away from the general public to a private room. Veer introduces me to his guest, Evelyn Sampson, but she already knows me.

"Miss Jenkins, I've heard so much about you."

"You have?"

"But of course. Your story is.... something special. I'm very sorry about your parents."

"Yes, well...."

As we sit, she exchanges a glance with Veer. I have a feeling I'm about to be put under the spotlight. Her smile is soft as she looks me up and down. Like him, she's unfazed by my burns.

"A tragic accident."

I stop myself from saying what I want to by clearing my throat. "Yes. But accidents happen, don't they?"

"Indeed. Ernest tells me you're investigating a conspiracy?"

"That's correct." As an afterthought, I add. "Against Sir Veer."

"But it didn't start out like that?" she presses.

I struggle. I feel like I'm already lost in a web of lies. "I and my colleague.... realised that we were working for the wrong people. Oakley wants to bring down the industry, not make it better."

She smiles. It's almost as if she's trying to pick me apart. I feel like I'm on trial.

"Sellafield shouldn't have happened. Someone ignored the obvious. How does that make you feel?"

"Angry. But it wasn't Sir Veer's fault. Or Sir Chester's. Not like Oakley had led me to believe."

Again, she exchanges a look with him. They're speaking to each other, collaborating, but not with words.

She clears her throat and grips my hand. "You know, Miss Jenkins, I'm fully aware of your situation and I believe I can help. You shouldn't be wasting what precious time you have left with such.... dangerous matters. I have an opening for an apprentice, to work alongside me in Geneva. Switzerland is lovely at this time of year."

Veer joins in. "We could make you very comfortable."

"I have.... contacts, who may be able to solve your.... predicament."

They're trying to bribe me. They want me out of the way. But why if he believes...?

"What are you saying?"

Miss Sampson looks to Veer. "Come with me. Leave England and this.... conspiracy behind."

"Why would I do that?"

"Because you may not have much time left."

Veer grips my shoulder. "And it may no longer be safe for you here."

"Why?"

He smiles. "Just take the offer, my dear. It's for your own good."

"I can't...."

"Do they prefer you to cover the burns - Oakley and his friends?" Veer's fingers skim my left hand.

Sampson picks up his point. "We would never ask you to do such a thing."

"Caitlin doesn't. She...."

Veer exchanges glances with Sampson. "She's your lover. She could go with you. The pair of you could start a fresh, a whole new life."

I swallow hard. "The offer.... is tempting, but I can't."

Veer's tone seems to change. The smile disappears and he seems to glare at me. "The offer won't be repeated. Refuse, you can't change your mind later. And I'd hate to see you...," he caresses my cheek, "hurt."

"Why would I be hurt?"

He pulls back. It almost as if he's said too much. "You said yourself, this Oakley is...."

"I'm not going to run away. You can say what you like, the answer's no."

I can see the reaction on their faces but can't describe it. It's odd. I have a very bad feeling about all of this.

"Caitlin, they were trying to convince me to leave. I'm telling you, this isn't right."

"Harry, this operation is unofficial. If you're right, it means someone close to us is working for Veer, someone in the taskforce. And I can't believe that."

"Maybe I'm wrong, paranoid. Maybe I should have gone along with Oscar's plan. All I'm saying is that something, feels very wrong. It's been too easy and then today at lunch...."

"Alright, Harry, calm down. We've come too far to go back, and we are making progress. What he said to you indicates he's involved in something and whatever is in those vaults, he clearly doesn't want anyone to know about it. Keep your wits about you. We'll get through this."

"Did you find anything in his office?"

She holds my gaze and shakes her head. Maybe this was a mistake. And now we're in it up to our necks.

What was said at lunch yesterday still troubles me. I can't shake the feeling that Veer knows.... something. But Caitlin's right. If he does, then someone close to us is a traitor. Veer's not in his office today and the building is suspiciously quiet. And I have a very bad feeling in the pit of my stomach as we ride the lift to the subbasement.

Caitlin steps out first, her hand shoved in her pocket, no doubt with her fingers wrapped around her gun. The corridor is the same – the lights fizzing and flickering. I cough as that toxic smell hits me. I follow her towards the vaults. We walk in single file and our footsteps are carefully placed to ensure we make no noise. When we reach the vaults, Caitlin turns to me. She gestures for me to remain silent and to watch the corridor before proceeding to inspect the heavy steel doors.

Maybe it's the dark or paranoia, but the longer we're down here, the more uneasy I am. It feels like we're being watched. Again, this is too easy. It feels like a set up. I turn to Caitlin to say something, but before I can, two hands grab me from behind, a knife at my throat.

"Look who we have here."

I can't see the owner of the voice but his grip is squeezing the life out of me. Caitlin spins around, pulling the gun from her pocket.

"I wouldn't do that. Not if you want your friend to live." He pushes the blade harder into my flesh.

"Look, we're on the same side...."

"No more lies, my dear." Veer's voice rings out from behind. His footsteps are heavy as he steps forward to scrutinise us both. "Did you really think you could fool me?" he laughs. "My money ensures loyalty." He stops opposite me and looks me in the eye. There's almost pity in them and a hint of sadness. "You should have taken my offer my dear. It's an awful shame. I really didn't want to have to hurt you, but you leave me no choice."

"You knew." I mutter. "Right from...."

"Knew that you'd been sent here to spy on me? To prove me a part of your little conspiracy? Of course I knew. Didn't you suspect that all this was a little too easy?" Now he turns to Caitlin. "Put the weapon down."

She looks at me and I shake my head, a signal for her to stand her ground. She swallows hard but the gun remains firm in her hands. Veer is unimpressed. He sighs turning back to me. Taking the knife, he has no qualms about slashing open my cheek. As I cry out and the blood flows freely down my face, he turns back to Caitlin.

"The next cut won't be so harmless."

Caitlin falters and one of Veer's men swoops forward and snatches away the gun before another grabs her wrists, cuffing them at the rear with cable ties - as are mine.

"I went along with this little charade, I wasn't happy about it, but as it presented me with an opportunity to eliminate a threat...."

"How did you know?" she spits.

Veer laughs. "You trust too easily, my friend."

"Trust you?"

He laughs again and shakes his head. "Your own."

"You're saying there's traitor in our taskforce?"

He remains silent, just staring menacingly at her. She's unmoved.

"Who?"

He laughs. As he gives his orders, he doesn't take his eyes off of Caitlin. "You know where to take them. Make it look like a murder suicide. And don't mess it up."

I fight as his men try to drag me off. "You won't get away with this you bastard!"

He turns to me and smiles. "Yes, I will." He leans in close. "As always."

We were shoved into the boot of a car - we've no idea where they're taking us.

"Harry, try and snap the cable ties. Use the corner of the boot."

"I'm trying."

"When they open the boot, we're going to have to fight."

"This is my fault. This was a stupid idea."

I hear her sigh. "No, no it wasn't. At least we know we're right about Veer"

"You know this means my instincts were right. There is a spy in the taskforce. One of us is a traitor."

"I know. But we can't worry about that yet."

After almost an hour and a half the car stops and the engine's cut. My hands are almost free. The boot is opened and I wince as the sharp sunlight hits my eyes. It's hard to tell where we are as they drag us from the car. The middle of nowhere by the looks - trees and mud. We're just tossed to the ground in a puddle of mud like we're nothing but slabs of meat. Looking about as I struggle to my feet – which is difficult without my hands – I spot some derelict buildings on the edge of the dirt path just ahead of the tree line. Veer's men clearly don't see us as any sort of threat. They laugh and smoke. They're uninterested in us and are more interested in their dirty jokes. Only one of them concentrates solely on us – the rest stand about the cars. One of them is by a bush taking a piss. There are two vehicles and about five or six men. Caitlin looks at me, her gaze firm. I swallow hard. I know what she's planning.

"Come on, don't mess about. I'm freezing my bollocks off here."

The man in front of us sticks his middle finger up at his colleague before spitting. From his pocket he takes out Caitlin's weapon and aims it at me. It's hard to describe what I'm feeling as I stand here looking down the barrel of a gun. I glare at him, determined to remain defiant and not show my fear. He's dragging it out to torture us. That's a bad move as it has given Caitlin time to get her hands free. She moves like lightning, kicking him in his stomach and effortlessly grabbing the weapon. A shot rings out as she kills him.

"Head for the buildings!" she screams to me.

As the man's comrades' advance on us, Caitlin sends bullets in their direction, buying us time to scramble towards cover.

As bullets head our way, tree fragments flying everywhere, we dive inside one of the derelict buildings and Caitlin tosses the gun to me. She fumbles with her trousers, producing a smaller pistol from her.... We're still in trouble. We're outnumbered with very little ammunition.

"Are you hit?"

My heart is pounding and I can't stop shaking. I'm not going to be much use.

"Harry?!"

"No."

She holds my gaze and sighs. "Take a deep breath. We're going to have to fight our way out of here."

"I don't think I can."

"We don't have a choice."

I know she's right. They'll kill us if we don't. I nod and grip the gun tighter.

Caitlin peers out of the open doorway but is forced back into cover as a bullet ricochets off the wall. We can here the men outside laughing and saying they should just wait until our ammo runs out. And they could – they have ample ammunition. Two of them want to rush us. Again, they could – it's five against two.

"Let's just get in there! Paul pissed about and look where it got him!"

"Don't be fucking stupid! It's supposed to look like a murder suicide! We can't just pump them full of lead! We wait it out."

Caitlin looks to me. "We wait until dark."

As night falls, we search the building for another exit and find one, but Veer's men have also found it and two of them stand guard. As we watch, hoping, one of the men moves away out of view. Caitlin gestures for me to remain here before creeping out. Silently like a hunter, she snakes her way up to the man and effortlessly breaks his neck. Taking his weapon and ammunition, she motions for me to join her.

As I draw level with her, a bullet bounces off a rock, inches from my foot. The second man bounds towards us, firing well aimed shots. Caitlin and I fire back. It's her bullets that kill him - my shots went harmlessly into the distance. I still can't bring myself to shoot and kill a man. The fire fight brings shouts and the hurried footsteps of the rest of Veer's men so we make off into the woods.

We run as fast as we can deeper into the woods. We can here the men close behind. There's at least three of them left. It's hard to see, there's no light whatsoever and as I stop to catch my breath, I realise I'm alone. I don't want to call out but it's an involuntary reaction to finding myself lost. Just silence and the wind. I'll have to try to find my way back. I just hope Caitlin's alright.

I've only been walking for a few minutes but it feels like hours. I keep hearing noises in the distance but can't make them out. I keep the gun close. It sounds like.... voices. Yes, there are defiantly voices, close. Suddenly, a gunshot rings out, as clear as day. I run but can't see a thing in front of me. I'm forced to stop as my lungs scream for a breath. And the area is plunged into silence again. I want to run as another gunshot rings out but my body refuses. Suddenly I have a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach. My cheek is really starting to hurt too. Everything's happened so fast, I hadn't really noticed it before now. The adrenaline outweighs the pain I guess.

I begin to walk, slower this time but I have to keep moving. I keep seeing shadows about me but I can't be sure that it's not just me. I hear a twig snap behind me and I stop, the gun firmly in my grip. Swallowing hard, I turn slowly but there's nothing but the darkness. I close my eyes and take a breath. Then I'm grabbed from behind. Two strong hands drag me to the ground. I struggle, kicking and scratching. My attacker groans as he tries to dodge my blows. We're caught in a melee, wrestling in the mud. But he's the better fighter and he soon has me pinned. Boots and fists send blow after blow into my body. He's clearly enjoying himself as I try helplessly to defend myself and struggle to crawl away. I search the ground with my desperate hands for the gun but my fingers fail to find the cool metal. As he prepares to send another rain of kicks and punches, somehow I find the strength to kick out with my legs, catching him in his groin. He doubles over in pain, giving me a brief rest bite. But as I try to crawl away, the man makes a grab at my ankles pulling me backward. I grab hold of tree but my hands are sweating profusely and I can't get a proper grip. I try to use my legs against him, to try to force him to let go but he's not giving up. He's soon back in control and he sits on top of me, pulling a knife from his belt. He squeezes my cheek and laughs when I spit at him. He runs the blade across my neck, breaking the flesh but only slightly. He wants to have his fun before he kills me. I grit my teeth, determined not to let the pain show. I close my eyes, willing my rage to come to the surface. My hands search the ground urgently for a weapon. As the man moves the blade once more to my neck and begins to press down, my fingers clutch a rock. And I let him have it. I hit him, again and again on his head. His blood flows over my fingers and down my arms. I keep hitting him until he is still on the ground, dead. I lie back in the mud, my breathing heavy.

What have I done? I stare at the body of the man I've killed, in shock. I've killed a man. Now I'm no better than the people we're trying to stop, Veer and Chester. The sun's just starting to rise, I don't know how long I've been sat here. The blood on my hands makes me feel sick. I've been sick. I've heard nothing more than the sounds of the night. No gunshots, no voices. It doesn't bother Caitlin – killing. But she's a soldier, she's trained. I'm not.... I'm....

"Harry!"

Caitlin drops to my side and grips my shoulders. She's bloodstained and apart from the few obvious injuries, appears unhurt. I don't, can't take my eyes off the corpse. She follows my gaze and sighs.

"I had.... no choice. He was going to....."

"Harry," she grips my chin and forces me to look at her. She licks her lips as she spots the injury to my neck and pulls out a handkerchief. I wince as she presses it over the wound. "It's alright. But we need to move, we can't stay here."

"He was going to kill me."

"Harry, listen to me. We have to get back to base. Now."

With Caitlin's help, somehow I manage to get to my feet. She's more or less supporting me as we scramble through the trees. It's easier to navigate during the day and it's not long before we're back at the cars and on our way back to base.

UKAEA TASKFORCE FACILITY.

We didn't talk at all on the way back. This has hit Caitlin hard. She knows everyone in the taskforce better than me - she trusts.... trusted them with her life. And now we find that one of them.... Being the outsider I.... had feelings, suspicions. These people – Veer, Chester – they always seemed to be one step ahead of us. Now we know why.

"So which one of you is it?!"

I stand back as Caitlin confronts the others. They're shocked at her outburst and don't understand. Oakley strides into the room.

"What's going on in here? I thought you two were undercover."

"We were." I answer, glaring up at him. "Until we found out that someone here is part of the conspiracy."

"What?"

"Veer said it himself – one of us is a traitor. He knew what we were up to."

Oakley's visibly shaken by my words. "But that's...."

"I'd say it makes perfect sense. Think about it - they've always been one step ahead of us."

Alison scoffs. "Yes, but one of us...."

Caitlin turns on her. "Only the people in this room knew about us going undercover."

A stunned silence descends and the tension between us is very evident. Oakley wipes his mouth before sitting.

"Veer.... he could have been bluffing. Trying to turn us against each other."

"He knew, Oscar. He set us up, right from the beginning."

No one wants to believe there's a traitor amongst us. Personally, I don't think we should have confronted the others. I think we should have waited, watched. But Caitlin.... this is the first time I've seen her so.... angry. Full of rage even. Uncontrolled.

"No....no I don't believe that one of us would..... It's a lie. It has to be."

I glare at Oakley. "For all we know, you could be the traitor."

He shoots me a.... shocked look, but he knows I'm right. It's up to the individual person to prove their innocence.

What we do now is anyone's guess. Oakley said he had to think about this and disappeared to his office. Caitlin went to her room and I came to mine. Who do we trust, how can trust....

"How long?"

I look up from my daydream to see Caitlin at my door.

"You said you felt something wasn't right – how long?"

"I don't know. It was just a niggling gut feeling. They've always been one step ahead and.... When we first interviewed Chester, he seemed.... it was like he was expecting us."

"And you didn't say anything!"

"I thought it was just me! That I was paranoid!"

She looks to the floor and I'm surprised to see tears streaming down her face. I jump from the bed to hold her and we fall to the floor.

"You think you know someone....I was stupid. I shouldn't have confronted them. I blatantly ignored my training.... you and me, we should have...."

"Whoever it is, Veer probably would have warned them as soon as he knew we'd escaped, so...."

This is a side to Caitlin I haven't seen before. And she's fighting it. She dries her eyes, as if ashamed of shedding tears.

"Why do you think it is? You've always kept us at arm's length - you must have your suspicions."

"I don't know, Caitlin."

The truth is it could be any of us. And it's going to put a strain on all of us. I know it isn't me but the others don't. For all I know it could be Caitlin.

"Do you think it could be Oscar?"

After certain revelations, yes. But after hearing his story, no.

"I don't know."

"We have to find them."

"Yes."

She scoffs. "For all you know, it could be me."

I don't answer that, because it's true. Yes, she was seemingly in as much danger as me. But I got lost in the woods, didn't I?

"Caitlin, I'm tired. Could you.... go now?"

She looks up at me with hurt eyes before dragging herself up. Do I really think she's the traitor? Honestly, I don't know. I hope not after.... She is a trained liar.

ELEVEN: CONFRONTATIONS PART TWO

I have to live with that man's death on my conscience. I killed him. I don't think, with everything happening as it did, that I.... I didn't sleep, one wink, last night. Every time I dropped off I kept seeing his.... face. How do you live with something like this? No matter how you justify it – self defence, he was going to kill me – it still.... I still have to live with it. I had no choice, but that's not the point. I've killed a man.

I swallow hard as I'm brought back to reality by the sound of Oakley's voice. We're discussing next moves, but I don't honestly see how we can continue. He doesn't want to believe that someone here is a traitor. Understandable but stupid. The longer the traitor remains unidentified, the more danger the rest of us are in. I'm tired of this and I'm ready to snap. Their shouting is giving me a headache.

"Why can't you just accept it?! There's a traitor amongst us and the longer we sit here arguing about it, the longer he or she is at large." I stand. "For all we know, you could be the traitor."

He glares at me. "Don't be ridiculous."

"I'm not. Doesn't it make sense to you? Really? These bastards have always been one step ahead of us!"

"That doesn't prove anything."

"Oh come on."

"It's nonsense! This is Veer and his friends, trying to split us – to make us turn on each other. And it's working, isn't it?!"

"That's exactly what a traitor would say!"

"I know everyone here and I trust each and every one of them, with my life if necessary."

"And what about you, Oakley? After all, you kept things from me. What else are you hiding?"

"If it comes to that, what about you, Miss Jenkins? You spent a very long time with Chester, didn't you?"

"Me?" I scoff. "You bastard."

Caitlin steps forward. "Harry's the only one we can trust – the only one I trust. And she's right," she looks him dead in the eye. "Maybe it is you, Oscar."

"This is becoming absurd." Alison comments.

Caitlin turns to her. "And what about you? Where do your loyalties really lay, Alison?"

She looks hurt. "With this taskforce – as it always has been. We need to calm down and think logically instead of accusing people. We carry on."

I laugh sarcastically. "Someone here can't be trusted. How can we just carry on? This taskforce has to rely on trust. It's over."

Oakley runs his hand across his mouth. "That is exactly what Veer wants."

"And he's gotten it, hasn't he? You can't seriously tell me that we can continue?"

"Why not?"

"Why not?" I laugh and shift from foot to foot.

"This is Veer playing games with us."

"And what if it isn't?" I scoff when he doesn't answer. "Exactly."

I march towards the door. Oakley calls out to me.

"Where are you going?"

"Home."

"You can't just walk out."

"Watch me."

I march down the corridor and slam the door of my room shut behind me. I stand as still as I can, trying to control the rage and anger. I feel sick to the very pit of my stomach. So sick, that I run into the bathroom and vomit into the toilet. So, do I go, or do I stay?

I stroll into the canteen and find Caitlin sat alone at one of the tables. I sigh and pour myself a coffee. I sit at a different table. Caitlin is clearly hurt – her eyes never leave me – and she hesitates before moving to join me.

"I thought you were leaving."

"I changed my mind."

"Harry.... you can still trust me you know."

"Can I?"

"Yes."

"How did you escape? In the woods?"

"How do you think?"

"I don't know. I got lost, didn't I?"

She stares at me. She's hurt by my words but understands. "I'm a soldier – Military Intelligence. They train us to evade and escape. They drum it into your head until you do it automatic. I'm no traitor. I'm as angry as you." She stands and saunters over to the coffee pot and pours a cup before rejoining me. "I've known these people longer than you. I thought they were my friends. Now I find that one of them has been lying to me, to us all."

I swallow hard as guilt rises to the surface. I avert my eyes as hers fall on me.

"You're right. This could be a clever deception, but it's not. I swear to you, on my life."

I nod but remain silent. Minutes pass before I look at her.

"What are we going to do?"

"I don't know."

The truth is there isn't much we can do. Carry on and hope for the best, hope that it forces the traitor to reveal themselves.

"Of course you realise, Harry, we could still be wrong. It could be that Veer is cleverer than we've given him credit for, and this is just a game he's playing."

She is right – it could be a game. Veer is a slippery eel, however....

"You don't really believe that though, do you?"

She stares at me. She's hoping that that is the case, but knows that it's more likely that there is a traitor amongst us. We both turn our attentions back to our coffee.

Oakley called us all together about ten minutes ago. He wants to talk to us. Frankly, I'm torn. A part of me wants to hang around, see how things progress. But a large part of me is tempted to walk out that door and never look back.

He clears his throat. "I've had some time to think, clearly, about this – we all have – and I can't believe that there's a traitor. Veer is clever, determined. He's playing a game with us. Trying to split us up, throw us off track. We can't let him win."

I sigh, tired of hearing this. "Then how did he know we were undercover? That operation – only the people in this room knew about it. Come on."

"Veer is clever."

"No one's that clever." I scoff. "He'd have to be bloody physic wouldn't he?"

Oakley looks to the floor chewing his bottom lip before looking back at me. "In all honesty, we don't know how clever Veer is. He could have easily second guessed us. Simple logic – we're getting nowhere so we have to change tactics."

Caitlin beats me to it. "You're blind, Oscar. I don't want to believe that there's a traitor, but Harry's right. They've always been one step ahead of us. Sellafield is a prime example. They must have known we were coming, because they'd all been warned to keep their mouths shut."

"It doesn't mean there's a traitor in our midst." He sighs and looks to the floor, hands on hips. After a brief moment, he looks us all in the eye. "I'll tell you what we're going to do. We're going to re-group. We take some time, a few days, go over all the information we have.... We're all tired and stressed. Take some time out to...."

"And if there is a traitor?"

He looks at me. "Then we'll deal."

I scoff. "Maybe I don't trust you."

He groans as his patience finally snaps. "Then don't! Let's none of us trust each other! Let Veer win! And when the next accident happens, and innocent children die...!"

He shakes his head, looking at each of us in turn. Without another word, he backs away, turns and marches from the room.

We re-group as Oakley said but there's a clear tension between each of us. Everyone's suspicious of each other, so there's not much team work going on. Caitlin and I have come to the canteen, Oakley's in his office and I don't know where the others are. We're supposed to be going through the archives but our minds aren't on the job. I half heartedly read the words on the page. Caitlin's the same – she's on to her sixth cup of coffee. Frustrated and agitated, I pick up the file I'm reading and throw it across the table with a muttered curse. After a moment of staring into space, I swallow.

"I never realised what a.... mess a rock makes to a man's skull."

Looking up from her reading, Caitlin stares at me and blinks. "Harry, you...."

"Didn't have a choice? Yeah, I got that. That was crystal clear. But I can't get that image out of my head, his face all...."

"It gets better. The images, they fade, over time."

"Are you speaking from experience?"

She doesn't answer. I look at her and she swallows and smiles at me.

"Harry, I've done this job for a long time. I've k...."

What sounds like a series of explosions cuts her off midsentence. We exchange a quick glance and jump to our feet, unsure of what we've heard.

"Was that...?"

Another explosion is triggered above us and the fire alarm rings out. We look at each other, momentarily stunned, before running down the corridor.

As we reach the staircase, the roof above collapses. Flame, smoke and metal comes crashing down on us, forcing our retreat. We're thrown to the ground as another explosion rips through the foundations. I remain still as my body trembles with the impact. Everything is throbbing and I cough violently as the smoke invades my lungs. As I lay here, my ears ringing, I'm aware of a faint voice calling out to me and a pulling on my arms. It's Caitlin.

"Harry, we need to move!"

With my ears still ringing and my bones rattling around my body like broken glass in a box, I follow Caitlin blind back down the now smoke filled corridor. We're heading for the fire escape but as we reach it, another explosion tears through the building below us and we're pulled through the floor into the jaws of the flames.

I lay stunned. My whole body hurts and there's a sharp, stabbing pain in my side. As I'm dragged back to reality by the pain, I cry out. Looking down, I'm laying on a bed of glass shards, blood stained. I cry out again as I force myself to my knees. I look down at my side. There's a deep gash surrounded by smaller ones, all covered in glass fragments. I grit my teeth to fight through the pain as I look around for Caitlin. She's lying a few feet from me, unconscious. Coughing with the smoke, I crawl my way to her and pull her to me. She's breathing but covered in blood. I shake her shoulders but get no response so I slap her face. That works. She comes too with a coughing fit. She stares up at me and our eyes are locked for a moment before she realises what is happening.

"We have to get out."

"You think."

We support each other as we scramble to our feet. Looking around I can't see a thing. The place is thick with black smoke.

"Where are the others?" I cough as I allow Caitlin to lead me through the building.

"I don't know. Hopefully they're already out."

"There can be no denying that there's a traitor amongst us now."

"Shit."

The fire escape here is blocked by a fallen roof support, causing our retreat. Trapped by flames on one side and the debris of the collapsing building on the other, we're forced to launch ourselves through a door to our left that leads into a short corridor and office space. Caitlin picks up a chair and launches it at the window but it refuses to break. She tries again and this time it goes through. She uses her jacket to brush away the remaining shards so that we can make our exit - although we're still a good few feet from the ground.

Caitlin goes first, carefully lowering herself over the edge. I watch as she hangs from a lower ledge before dropping to the ground and rolling. A second later, she's back on her feet and beckoning to me. I take a deep breath, though that was a mistake with the smoke in my lungs. I cough as I breathe the fresh air. My hands, my whole body is trembling as I lower myself over the edge. I grip the lower ledge and hang. I don't know if I can bring myself to let go, but after a few words of encouragement from Caitlin, I find the courage to let go and fall into her arms.

We make our way to the front of the building and are met by flames. The whole building is engulfed. As we continue I can see the figures of Oakley, Alison and Benedict, but no Tate.

"Where's Andy?" Caitlin asks.

"We thought he'd be with you."

"You mean he's still in there?!"

We all have to fight with Caitlin to prevent her from going back inside and as we struggle and plead with her, another almighty explosion blows us off of our feet as the front of the building erupts with flame and glass. I lay as still as possible as shockwaves surge through my body and I scream with the pain of the impact. It's a few moments before I'm able to move and unsteadily get to my feet.

"Andy!"

None of us are quick enough to grab Caitlin. She makes for the building and disappears back into the flames.

"Caitlin!"

I'm prevented from following by Oakley. He grabs my waist and pulls me back. I fight but he's too strong. All I can do is watch and struggle in his arms.

Ten minutes, it's been ten minutes since she went back inside. Oakley stays close to me, watching me like a hawk.

"We can't just stand here!"

"Harry, there's nothing we can do!"

"We should go in after her!"

"Don't be stupid!"

Before I can say anything more, violent coughing from the entrance grabs our attention. A blood and smoke stained Caitlin emerges, the body of Andrew Tate over her shoulder. She gasps for breath as we rush to assist her. We say nothing. We stare at the body of our colleague on the ground – dead. Bullet to the head – the wound is clearly visible and I force back the urge to vomit with all the strength I can muster. There isn't much left of his face.

I look up at Oakley. "Still think there isn't a traitor?"
"I...."

Caitlin glares at everyone but me. "One of you.... I'll kill you. I swear I...."

Before she can continue, a bullet ricochets, narrowly missing its target. Then another bullet is sent our way, then another and another. We run, heading for the rear of the complex, bullets chasing us all the way until we're out of range. We can't see our attackers, even in the glow of the flames. We can only see silhouettes, feel the bullets inches from our bodies. We're outnumbered and unarmed. Caitlin's eyes are an inferno, she's seething with rage. Another side to her I haven't seen.

"One of you three has set us up!"

"Caitlin this is not...!"

"Fuck you, Oscar!"

The sound of hurried footsteps silences us as the silhouettes of our attackers come into view. We make for the garages at the far end of the complex, hoping that they haven't gone up in flames too.

We're in luck and we all clamber into one of the vehicles, Caitlin at the wheel. She revs the engine and we smash our way out of the garage, taking our attackers by surprise. They fire off a few shots but we make our escape otherwise unhindered – almost, as Caitlin slams on the breaks. She gets out and sprints towards Tate's body.

"What the hell are you doing?! Leave him, he's dead?" Oakley screams, looking back towards the rear of the complex.

"We are not leaving him!"

Cursing, Oakley jumps out and helps her drag his body into the boot.

"Hurry up!" I call as the silhouettes of our attackers come into view once more.

Just as the attackers turn the corner, coming into view with weapons raised, Caitlin floors the accelerator and we make good our escape.

"You should have left him, Caitlin!"

"No she shouldn't." I spit.

"It was stupid. It could have gotten us all killed!"

"That's what someone here wanted" Caitlin snipes.

"Yeah, and for all we know it could have been Andy."

Caitlin slams on the breaks and turns on Oakley.

"What did you say?!"

"I'm saying he could have been the traitor."

"Oh and he'd just shoot himself in the head would he?"

"Yes. Because that's the perfect way to cover his tracks, isn't it? You confronted us all remember. You warned the traitor that you knew. Think about it, Caitlin. Your warning pushed the traitor to this, this is on you. Tate could have set those explosives and then pulled the trigger on himself, thinking we'd all go up."

I swallow. "Caitlin, I hate to say this, but he's right."

She turns to me. "Well that's a first. You thought Oscar was the traitor."

"I don't know what to think anymore!"

She sits forward and sighs. After a moment, she looks at Oakley. "Andy wasn't a traitor. He was a good man, a good soldier. Besides, it doesn't make sense."

"None of this makes sense."

"That wound was not self inflicted. I've seen enough gunshot wounds to know when it's suicide. No, he was no traitor, I'd bet my life on it. He was murdered. Someone here is a liar."

As she hits the accelerator an awkward silence descends and we all look at each other. Caitlin seems so sure, which leaves Oakley, Benedict and Cain. One of them is liar, a traitor and a murderer. Whoever it is, they've been very clever.

We stop in the middle of nowhere, somewhere south, rural. We drove all night, stopping only for petrol. We're all exhausted and patience is wearing thin. We're now deep into the countryside and there's what looks to be a farmhouse just up the road. It's pretty secluded and looks to be abandoned, but still we approach slowly and with caution. The suns just rising and there's a bitter sting in the air – mostly caused by the tension between us all. I shiver and rub my hands together as we exit the vehicle and approach the house. There's only silence. It looks like it was abandoned a long time ago - it's dilapidated, but at least it's shelter.

I watch Caitlin dig a hole in the ground at the back of the farmhouse. Although the sun is strong, the air is cold and snowflakes flutter. I feel I should say something but find my throat is dry and speechless. The others watch for a moment longer before choosing to go back inside – only Alison lingers, unsure of whether to stay or follow the other two. She sends me a faint smile but turns her back and rushes inside.

With the hole dug, Caitlin lays Tate's body down, gently, and begins to shovel the mud over him. She says nothing. I watch on, unable to move or offer words. As she finishes, I step forward and clutch her hand. We both stare at the ground.

"He wasn't a traitor, Harry. He wasn't. And he didn't shoot himself. He didn't. I knew him, he wouldn't do this. He wouldn't."

"I...." She looks down at me as I hesitate, and her eyes burn into mine. She is so certain. "I believe you."

"I know gunshot wounds.... someone did that to him." She looks at me and I look at her and our eyes remain locked. "He was not a traitor."

"I...."

"He wasn't, Harry."

"I said I believe you, didn't I? Who do you think...?"

I can't finish and she can't answer so we both look back at the farmhouse.

"It could be Oakley. He pointed the finger at Tate, maybe to try to take eyes off of him."

"Sooner or later, the traitor will make a mistake. And I'll kill him."

Her comment doesn't shock me, I know exactly how she feels. I squeeze her hand. "What now?"

She paces on the spot and takes a lung full of the fresh country air. "I want to go back to the complex. Take a look around. We go – you and me – now. We'll tell the others we're going into town for supplies."

"What if the attackers are still there?"

"I hope they are. Then we might get some answers."

We stand over his grave in silence. As we stand here, she bursts into tears – suddenly, without warning. I turn to her. This is new.

"Oakley was right – this is on me. I confronted them, I warned the traitor.... this is my.... my fault. He is dead, because of me."

I can't say a word - because she's right. I take her into my arms and cradle her, and she holds on to me, with such a grip, so tight as she sobs. I don't know what else to do but hold her. I don't know what to say. So, we stand over his grave, holding each other, her sobs the only sound.

TWELVE: SETTING THE TRAP

We approach the complex with extreme caution. The fire is out and the place appears to be deserted once more. The 'incident' was mentioned briefly on the news on the radio – they're saying it was an electrical fault. Only we know otherwise – and Veer of course. The building itself is gutted. Some of the walls and ceilings have collapsed, making the complex structurally unsound. The emergency services have only just evacuated the area - we saw them leaving on our approach.

"They weren't messing around, were they?"

Caitlin blows out an audible breath. "No, they weren't. Don't wander off in there."

As she speaks, more of the building collapses. I swallow hard – this is not a good idea.

"Caitlin, I don't think this is a good idea."

"We don't have a choice. There might be clues as to who the traitor is. And.... the archives are in there."

I scoff. "They'll have burned."

"We don't know that. It was a strong room, fireproof. I just hope we can get to it." She looks around and her eyes finally fall onto me. "Come on."

Against my better judgment I follow Caitlin inside. The place is a wreck and I can't see how we're going to navigate our way around. Everything's black from the smoke and there's water dripping from.... everywhere. Parts of the roof have caved in – the whole building's slowly caving in – and the iron and concrete supports hang perilously, threatening to give way. We stand in what used to be the foyer looking around at the carnage with lumps in our throats.

"So where do you want to start?"

Caitlin looks at me and runs her hands across her mouth. She looks around, scratching her neck and points to one of the few clear corridors – I say clear, perhaps navigable would be a better word.

"Let's try down there."

I let her lead, though I make sure I stay close to her as we clamber over iron girders and concrete blocks. We're trying to make our way to the archive room in the hope that it's still there. We keep stopping so that Caitlin can examine the damage. She's looking for clues, signs anything that might tell us who the traitor is. I don't think she's having much luck. Me – I'm only aware of the creaking sounds above. It sounds like this place is about to come crashing down. I hope it holds up a little longer, I don't fancy being crushed to death.

This isn't what we were hoping for. The archive room is just.... gone. There's no other way to say it, there's just a hole where the room used to be. Caitlin squats breathing heavily. I.... All I can do is stare at the hole. And do you want to hear something really scary? There are fixed Geiger Counters all over this place. We passed one on the way, just down the corridor. It showed slightly abnormal radiation levels - not enough to kill us but still, abnormal. That means, that whoever did this, used radioactive materials in the explosives - which means they weren't just trying to scares us off, they wanted us dead.

"They weren't messing about. Whoever did this knew exactly what they were doing."

"Caitlin.... the archives...."

"Yeah. They probably set one of the explosive devices up in here. And they knew exactly how much to use which means...."

"Are you starting to think this was Andy?"

She sighs wiping her mouth. "It could have been any of them – you don't need military experience to make a bomb. Besides, you need more than C4 to create this kind of damage. You saw the Geiger."

"One of the scientists then? They have access to materials that could make one hell of bang."

"They're good – very good. Covered their tracks well. Oakley had access to those materials too," she chuckles sarcastically. "We all did."

"So we're back to square one."

"We need to set something up. Draw the traitor out."

"How?"

She sighs and stands. "I haven't thought that up yet. We should get out of here – I don't like the sounds this place is making."

"Caitlin, the archives are gone." I turn to her. "All our evidence against Veer and the others. We've got nothing."

"Then we'll have to find a way to get into Veer's vaults."

"And if we're wrong? If they don't contain what we think – proof of cover-ups, conspiracy?"

"Then it's over. We go home with our tails between our legs and they win."

"And avoidable accidents continue to happen."

"With no proof we can't continue, Harry. Veer knows that, that's why all this is happening."

As she begins to walk away, I call out. "There is another way." I look her dead in the eye as she turns back to me. "Veer won't let us walk away, not now. If we can't do this legally, then we eliminate them. Pick them off one by one. Make it look like a tragic accident, suicide even. Otherwise they'll continue to corrupt the industry and then, then there'll be more people like me, like this."

"Harry...."

"I'm serious. However we do it, we can't let them...."

Caitlin caresses my cheek and plants a kiss onto my lips to stop me from continuing. She takes my hands and smiles.

"Come on, let's get out of here."

"So how are we going to trap the traitor?" I turn away from the view of the country to look at her.

"I don't know. We're going to have to be clever. We keep an eye on them, plan.... something against Veer, I don't know."

"So basically, we carry on?"

"But under my command. And we keep a very close eye on the others. I'll figure something out. It's all about breaking their nerve you see. Break their nerve, they'll make a mistake. And I'll be waiting."

At the farmhouse Caitlin has called us all together. I stand by her side with the three suspects sat in front of us.

"I'm taking command of this taskforce."

Oakley stands. "You can't."

She glares at him. "One of ours is dead, murdered. Our base is gone and one of you three is a traitor. So yes, I can."

"You could be the traitor."

"Yes I could, couldn't I?"

"She was with me when those bombs went off, the whole time. It's one of you three and I have my suspicions, Mr Oakley." I look him up and down. Funny, he has no come back to my comment.

Caitlin continues. "First, I want this place secured. I want a perimeter set up and this building fortified. Board up the windows and all other exits except this one."

Benedict scoffs. Unusual, he's normally the quiet one. "It's stupid. If we're attacked...."

"Firstly, it makes defence easier. Secondly, what makes you think we'll be attacked?"

I watch his reactions closely. He swallows very hard and refuses to make eye contact with either of us. He tries to hide the fact that he's blushing but fails.

"I.... We've already been attacked. What's to stop them.... again?"

"Nothing. Apart from the fact that Veer doesn't know where we are. Or does he, Dale?"

He looks up at us but again, refuses eye contact. He looks nervous.

"Are you.... accusing me?"

"I don't know, am I?"

I lick my lips. "Those explosions were pretty big, weren't they? Maybe they had elements in them that you scientists were using. We'll never know, will we?"

Alison is flustered too. "This is insane. This is exactly what Veer wants."

"Maybe you're the traitor."

"Caitlin, I don't believe there is one."

I finally lose my temper. "Tate was murdered. How would you explain that?"

"We were under attack by Veer's men. They could have snuck in."

"Not a chance. Not without us knowing. Besides, that base was top secret. Only we knew its location, Alison."

She struggles and fails to find an answer to that. She rubs her temples before flopping back onto the sofa. Benedict has fallen silent again and his gaze has returned to the floor. Only Oakley remains standing. Caitlin looks to me before sighing.

"We get this place secured. I'll let you know what we do next, when you need to know."

"What do you think?" I ask Caitlin now we're alone.

"Alison I'm unsure about. Couldn't read her, she seems genuinely in denial. It could be Oakley."

"That's what I was thinking. But then Benedict opened his mouth."

"I noticed." She falls silent before turning to me. "It's the pressure that finally breaks the nerve of a traitor. Covering tracks, passing information to their contact, spying on friends. The pressure will be twice as much now. There were supposed to be no survivors."

"How much do you know about Benedict?"

"Not much. Bit of loner, keeps himself to himself."

I chuckle. "The perfect cover. Any ideas on how we're going to catch them out?"

She doesn't answer. Bringing a traitor to the surface - it's easier said than done.

The others are asleep upstairs. It's quiet, peaceful but it still feels like it could kick off any second. It's just me and Caitlin down stairs by the fire, too restless to sleep.

"Harry, can I ask you a question? How are you so sure I'm not the traitor?"

"I wasn't. At first. But.... I don't know. It's just a vibe. Since my.... what happened to me, I've been able to read people, like a... sixth sense if you like." I take a deep breath and turn to her. "I'll be honest - I don't think Alison is the traitor either. Don't ask me why, again it's just.... gut feelings."

"And your gut instincts have been right before. So that leaves Oakley and Benedict."

"Oakley for obvious reasons. Benedict – he seems too good to be true."

"We need to plan something big. Something coordinated, that'll really put the pressure on."

"You're the intelligence officer, what do you suggest?"

She sits back and chews her lip. "I'm working on it."

"How do you know I'm not the traitor?"

She laughs but quickly falls silent. "You've lost too much. These people, they took your life, they've taken your family."

Suddenly I feel sick. I sit forward cupping my hand to my mouth.

"Harry?"

"I'm ok. I just.... feel a bit sick all of a sudden."

That's it. I rush outside and throw up. Caitlin rubs my back as I try to catch my breath.

"Maybe Alison should look you over."

"No, I'm ok. It's probably just a bug or something."

It could be, or it could be.... Alison told me it would start like this. That I would become very ill, very quickly. I try to put that thought out of my head, standing straight and taking a deep breath. It's probably just stress, the strain of all this. I allow Caitlin to lead me back inside and up to the bedroom. She lies next to me, cradling me in her arms. Her eyes are the last thing I see.

I open my eyes only to find myself alone, the bed sheets wrapped tightly around me. The sun's rays are strong, burning through the window, and I prop myself up on my elbows. As I lay back, the door opens and Caitlin joins me.

"Are you feeling better?"

"I...." I clear my throat. "It was probably just stress – after...."

"Maybe you should see a doctor."

"No. I mean.... I'm fine."

She stares at me for a long time, obviously unconvinced.

"Well, while you were out cold, I was racking my brains trying to think up something to catch our traitor."

"And have you?"

A sly smile creeps onto her face. "We're going to attack Veer's HQ."

She looks down at me and the smile widens. Did I hear her right?

"What?"

"Just trust me."

My mouth hangs open as I stare at her. "It's funny – for a minute there I thought you said we're going to attack Veer's...."

"I did."

"But the traitor...."

"The traitor will tell Veer."

I sit up. "Then he'll be waiting for us."

"We won't be there. We'll be across the road." She smiles like a cat that's got the cream and jumps from the bed. "You're just going to have to trust me, Harry."

I struggle with the words as I rack my brains with hers. "I don't get it. Veer...."

"Veer is no fool, yes. Yes he'll have figured out that because of recent revelations, whatever we say we're going to do, we're not. But he won't take a chance, men like him don't. The pressure is on him and our traitor to finish what they started. Something has got to give. This will force their hands."

"Ok. But what if it doesn't? What if Veer sees right through our plan? What if the traitor doesn't have the balls to finish the job?"

She struggles to answer that. Clearly she didn't think of that.

"The plan's only in its infancy. I haven't worked out the fine details. I'm clutching at straws, but we have to try something. Until the traitor's caught, we are in serious danger. We can't go to ground, we can't...."

She sits back down next to me and I rest my head on her shoulder. I kiss the nape of her neck softly.

"We're going to have to take it as it comes. Day by... bloody day."

She sighs before looking at me. She smiles as I continue to kiss her neck and runs her hand through my hair.

"You don't look well, Harry. You look pale."

I lie. "I feel fine."

I don't, but I don't want to see a doctor or Alison even. I'm afraid that I already know what this is. That it's the beginning of.... I've been feeling sick for a few days now. I hide it well, other things to concentrate on. I don't want to know if it's.... I'm not ready to die. Not now, not like this. I thought I'd come to terms with it after Sellafield – clearly I was wrong. I stupidly thought that it wouldn't.... But I knew that it could happen at any time, didn't I? She told me in no uncertain terms that it could.

"See Alison. She is a doctor of sorts, and if you trust her...."

"Just drop it will you. I'm fine."

She's not convinced and I don't blame her. I swallow hard trying to suppress the shiver that's working its way around my body.

"Like I said, it's probably just stress. After the attack and seeing Tate like that...."

And killing a man. You can't imagine what killing a man does to you. It probably is just stress or a bug, it's just me being stupid. Caitlin looks deep into my eyes, trying to read me. Unable to, she kisses my forehead and stands.

"We'll start planning the attack today. I'll need you to follow my lead."

I nod my consent. The plan's good, in theory. Will it work? I have my doubts, but Caitlin knows what she's doing. At least I hope she does.

"Caitlin...." I let my jaw hang, the words stuck in my throat. I smile. "It doesn't matter."

Oakley paces up and down, steaming. Caitlin's just finished briefing the others on the attack and he's seething with disbelief.

"Have you lost your mind? That's the last thing we should do with a traitor on the loose."

She holds his gaze but gives nothing away. "If you don't like it, Oscar, there's the door. Walk through it."

"What?"

"You heard me."

"Caitlin, the traitor...."

"And you're making yourself the prime suspect."

He stares at her for a long time before swallowing and sitting down. Caitlin watches him before exchanging glances with me.

"You'll do as I tell you. I've got my eye on each and every one of you and if you don't like it, you can walk out that door, right now. But if you do, don't even think of coming back." She looks pointedly at each of them. "Well?!"

No one moves, not even me. They're all taken aback by her tone. I wouldn't like to get on the wrong side of her.

"Right then, big attack. Veer is going down, his friends too. This will be planned inch perfect, that's my territory. You lot, I want to know everything about him. His connections, his contacts, his investments. Every little detail, right down to his so called good deeds."

Oakley can't help but have a dig. "Sounds like a military operation."

"It is. We're not going to sit playing with ourselves anymore. No more playing the good guys."

"So...," Benedict stutters, placing himself between Caitlin and Oakley. "What.... exactly is the plan?"

"Need to know."

"We're a team."

"Yeah, and one of you is a traitor, Dale."

He opens his mouth as if to say something but decides against it. He sits back down. I watch him with curiosity. There's something about him that I can't quite make out. He's certainly not himself today. But having said that, it could just be because of everything that's happened. We've all been thrown by recent events. My suspicions remain firmly on Oakley.

As they disperse to carry out the work Caitlin's set them, I follow her outside to the car.

"Did you watch them closely?"

"I did."

"And?"

"Oakley and Benedict. It's defiantly one of those two. Alison's distraught, visibly shaken by all this. That wasn't an act, it's not her."

Caitlin scratches her cheek. "I have to agree. But even I make mistakes sometimes."

"I'm swayed towards Oakley, though there is something about Benedict I don't like."

"No, he's not his usual calm and quiet self. And he wouldn't usually put himself between me and Oakley like that. His attitude has always been I'm a scientist, not a tactician." She sits back staring out at the farmhouse. "Are you really feeling better?"

"Yes."

"And you wouldn't lie to me, would you?"

As we return to silence, I bite my bottom lip. "There is something I.... How do you get over it – killing a man?"

"You don't. You live with it."

"How?"

She looks at me. "Harry, if you're looking for absolution, I'm the wrong the person to ask. I've killed many men. Your conscience will grow easier to bear, over time." She grips my hand with her left and runs her right across my cheek. "He was trying to kill you, Harry."

Absolution. I suppose that's exactly what I'm looking for. If I hadn't.... he was under orders to kill me. It was self defence but.... it's one more cross to bear. Perhaps, one more too much.

"I hate them. Veer and his people, what they've turned me in to. They did this to me – started at Sellafield."

"Then maybe that's how you'll find absolution. Bring them to justice."

"What if your plan doesn't work? What if the traitor holds his nerve?"

She sighs and looks away. I have a funny feeling I know what she's going to say.

"Then I get nasty. And violent."

I open the car door. "I need some fresh air. You go on inside, I'll join in a moment."

"Are you sure you're...."

My glare stops her midsentence. I smile faintly and look away. She blows out a long breath and heads inside, glancing over her shoulder at me once at the door.

I breathe deeply and slowly. I don't feel right. My head is spinning. Despite the cold, I feel like I'm in an oven, weak. I rush to the rear of the farmhouse to ensure Caitlin doesn't see me being sick again.... I'm scared. That's why I don't want to see Alison. I'm scared of what she might say. The thought of what we might have to do, should the plan fail, only makes it worse. I clutch my knees, breathing deeply, and close my eyes trying to suppress the urge to vomit again. Maybe I should see Alison, get her to run some tests.

I hesitate outside her door. I've walked away twice already but this time, I will knock and enter. I will. Deep breaths. I knock and she calls for me to enter. I hesitate, my hand refusing to clutch the door handle. I'm tempted to turn around and walk away but the door opens and Alison confronts me.

"Harry?"

I know I look unwell and she can see it too – she can't help but see it.

"Are you alright?"

I can't speak so shake my head instead. She motions for me to join her in the room and closes the door behind us.

"Harry, what's the matter?"

"I err.... I think that there's something.... wrong."

"You don't look well. Are you feeling sick?"

"More than just feeling."

She presses her hand to my forehead. "You are very hot and clammy. How long have you been feeling like this?"

"Just a few days. I thought it might be just a cold or something, at first. Then I started to think that erm.... What you told me at Sellafield.... Do you think it could be...?"

She scrutinises me. I don't have to finish my sentence - she knows exactly what I'm thinking.

"I'll take some blood, run some tests. But it could be and most probably is just a virus. With your condition, a common cold could make your body respond like this. We won't know for certain until I've done the tests. In the meantime, you should rest, get plenty of fluids – preferably water or energy drinks."

"But it could be...."

"Harry, chances are it is just a virus of some sort."

"But it could be? You did say that it would start like this."

"It is possible. Yes."

She smiles sympathetically and steps away to prepare her equipment. I sit down, ready to give blood. Before she can begin, I grab her arm.

"Am I.... contagious? I mean, if I were to.... have a sexual relationship, could I.... infect them?"

She looks me dead in the eye and holds my gaze.

"It is a possibility, yes."

I swallow hard and she beings to take the blood from my arm.

"Can we.... can we keep this just between you and me, for now."

"I won't say a word."

A storms brewing – in the sky. It seems fitting given the situation we find ourselves in. Of course I'm scared of what those tests are going to say. And I'm scared of what's going to happen over the coming days. If this goes wrong.... he'll kill us.

"Harry?"

I turn to see Caitlin in the doorway. I shiver as the rain soaks me right through but make no attempts to move. Pulling on her jacket, she rushes towards me.

"What the hell are you doing? You're wet through."

"I erm, needed some air."

"Air?" she stares at me. "Are you sure you're alright?"

"I.... I saw Alison like you said. She's running some tests, thinks it might just be a virus."

"So you should be inside, resting. Not out here in the rain."

"Caitlin, it might be something else. It might be...."

"What?"

"A cold."

"Inside, now."

She escorts me to the bedroom and makes sure I get into bed. Wrapping the sheets around me, she runs her hand across my forehead and lets it linger.

"You are going to get better, Miss Jenkins. Because...," she lowers herself to whisper in my ear, "we have a traitor to catch," she pulls herself up and raises her voice, "in two days time."

"Two days?"

"My.... sources tell me, that Veer is hosting a very high profile dinner party at his headquarters. So, the game's afoot."

Two days – then we'll know who the traitor is.

THIRTEEN: TRAITOR

How long was I out? All I know is that it's now the middle of the night – the clock says two. Caitlin is flat out next to me - I can't help but smile at how peaceful she looks. I'm restless and suddenly wide awake - things are still going round in my head. Maybe a walk will clear my thoughts. As carefully as I can, I slip from the bed and walk on tip toes to the door. Looking back at Caitlin, I slip quietly from the room.

As I come to the top of the stairs, I'm sure I can hear talking, but it's two in the morning. It's a male voice, in hushed tones. Watching every step I take, I creep down a few steps and stop. It's Dale's voice, I'm sure of it. I can hear.... he's on the phone....

"Friday, it is set for Friday. Then it'll be over.... I know. I'm not a fool. I'll take care of it. Leave it to me alright, I'll see that it's done."

I cup my hand to my mouth to stop to stifle the squawk and move back up the stairs – taking care to avoid the squeaky floorboards.

I rush as quietly as I can back into the bedroom and close the door. I sit on the edge of the bed and take hold of Caitlin's shoulders to wake her. She moans as I shake her, half heartedly batting my hands away.

"Caitlin, wake up!"

"What is it?"

"Dale – I think he could be the traitor."

She blinks sleep out of her eyes as she rests on her elbows. Coughing, she pulls herself into a sitting position.

"What?"

"I couldn't sleep so I went to go down stairs. I heard him on the phone, talking to someone about Friday. He said that he'd take care of it – see it done."

"Take care of what?"

"I don't know, I only caught the rear end of the call but.... I think it's safe to assume what he was referring to."

She looks to the wall, thinking. "We.... we shouldn't jump to conclusions, given that you only heard part of the call."

"Yeah, but who else would he be talking to at two in the morning?"

She sighs and her mouth hangs open as she slips back into thought. "Say nothing. We'll soon find out if you're right. In the meantime, I'll keep my eye on him."

With that, she flops back into the bed sheets, closing her eyes. I sigh silently and lay next to her. Again, I find myself in awe of Caitlin – how calm she is, how easily she just goes back to sleep. I suppose again, it all comes back to her training. I'm not finding it so easy. My mind is too troubled to just switch off. Perhaps if I stare at one spot on the ceiling....

"I don't know how you can sleep."

"What makes you think that I'm asleep?"

She stares at me with one eye and smiles. Laughing, she turns to face me and props herself up on one elbow. She runs her warm fingers over the frozen flesh of my cheek and gazes into my eyes. She goes to plant a kiss on my lips but I turn away, pulling the sheets tight over me.

"I err.... I don't feel....Goodnight, Caitlin."

I can almost feel her eyes burning into the back of my skull. I lie as still as possible and after a brief moment I feel her plant a kiss onto the top of my head and settle beside me once more.

I find Caitlin outside doing something to the car. I stand watching, sunning myself. The rays are warm on my frozen skin. I swallow and cough to gain her attention.

"You should be inside, resting." She calls without taking her eyes off of her task.

"I've rested enough. What are you doing?"

"Tinting the windows – so no one can see in. And so that out traitor can't see out – vital if this is going to work."

"Do you think it will?"

She stops for a second and turns to me. "I don't know. What?!"

I look behind me to see Oakley standing close by. He swallows hard and shifts uneasy on the spot.

"We've finished going over the...."

"No you haven't – go over them again. And you keep going over them until I tell you to stop, do you understand?"

"Caitlin, this is...."

"Who's in charge here? Because I thought given the circumstances it was me."

"Of course."

With that, he turns and marches back into the building. I turn back to Caitlin who stands hands on hips, her eyes on fire.

"You have to be cruel to be kind, Harry. It's all about pressure."

"I didn't say a word. So, do I get to know how you're going play this?"

She motions for me to follow her and we set off across the fields at a march at first, but it soon turns into a stroll.

"We'll be in the building across the street from Veer's. Just like his building, it has underground parking - access is gained via the adjacent street, so there'll be no need to pass Veer's building and therefore no chance of getting caught. Plus it gives us an easy getaway."

"Hence why you tinted the windows – so the traitor can't see which building we're heading for."

"We'll take the elevator to the topmost floor. It opens out onto a short corridor – it's mostly disused other than for storage. At the far end, there's a small flight of stairs that leads to the roof. And if I'm right, across the street, Veer will have cancelled his little party and the place will be swarming with police and security. The pressure will finally get to the traitor because he'll realise that he's been set up, and he'll break."

"And if you're wrong?"

She stops, squints up at the sun and sighs. "Then we'll deal. It just means I'll have to revert to more.... aggressive measures to catch him."

I don't like the sound of that. Torture and guns. We are supposed to be better than that. She looks down at me and smiles.

"I've planned similar operations on numerous occasions. Nine times out of ten I've been right. I'll be right this time too."

"You hope."

"One last thing, Harry. I'm going to get real nasty on that roof. Follow my lead and when the time's right, step in."

"How will I know....?"

"You'll know. Trust me."

"Caitlin, is there something you're not telling me?"

She looks to the sky and sighs before looking me in the eye. "Just, trust me."

We continue walking in silence – there's nothing much left to say, everything's set for Friday.

It's come around quick. And today, if this works, we find out who's betrayed us. I have to say, I'm still torn between Oakley and Benedict. Oakley I've had my suspicions about from the start for obvious reasons – he lied to me. As for Benedict, well there was that phone call that I overheard, but then as Caitlin said, it proves nothing - it could have been anything. If you ask me, it's still suspicious – why take a call at two in the morning?

No one speaks as we head into the city – I don't think they dare question Caitlin given her attitude towards them. Night's fallen fast and a storm has set in – still, it'll help to mask our approach. Caitlin's driving and she's clearly in military mode as she takes us down into the underground parking lot. I can hear sirens from somewhere on the street above us, but that could be a coincidence. I keep my eye on Oakley and Benedict – both of them seem anxious, but then so does Alison and I'm not exactly a picture of tranquillity either. Only Caitlin seems calm – clinical almost – but then she's probably done this a hundred times before.

She orders us to follow her in single file to the elevators. I take the rear. Inside, she presses the button for the top floor and we wait in silence. Oakley glances about – I can tell he wants to say something but is unsure given our shortness with him. He clears his throat instead.

The doors open and Caitlin motions for us to exit. She was right about this floor – there's nothing here but a few cardboard boxes. There isn't even any working lighting. The others are confused now and they mutter amongst themselves.

"Cut the chatter." Caitlin orders from further down the corridor.

"Harry," Oakley grabs my arm. "What's going on? This isn't Veer's building, is it?"

I ignore him, raising my right eyebrow instead.

"We are supposed to be in his building, aren't we? Isn't that what we've been planning?"

"How do you know it isn't?"

Benedict scoffs. Now they're both ganging up on me. "Then where's the party? Isn't he supposed to be holding some charity thing? I only hear police cars outside."

"Hey," Caitlin marches up to us and pushes both Oakley and Benedict aside. "Didn't I say cut the chatter?"

"We want to know what the hell's going on."

"You'll find out. Now move."

She raises her pistol in warning and motions for them to shift themselves. They don't argue with her. She exchanges glances with me and we continue on to the metal staircase that leads to the roof.

"Right, up the steps."

"Caitlin, we don't understand."

"You will." I answer. "Now do as she says."

We follow Caitlin up and out onto the roof. There's a bitter sting as she throws open the door and the bitter night air cuts at our faces. Caitlin explains as she leads across the roof.

"You three weren't privy to this plan. No, no, no, I and Harry set this one up. We're actually in the building across the street from Veer's. I got you to plan a fake attack on Veer's building because one of you.... is a traitor. A murderous, stinking traitor. And there's my proof."

Across the street, at Veer's building, the area is swarming with police and various private security officers. The majority of them are armed and are clad in heavy duty body armour. Road blocks have been set up at either end of the road, guarded by armed police officers and dog units. The night is illuminated by flashing blue lights. We can see Veer and his sharp suited friends marching about too – barking orders. It's clear from where we are that the party is cancelled. It's also clear, that Veer is setting a trap for us.

"We got you to plan a fake assault, knowing that our little coward of a traitor, would be straight on the phone to Ernest Veer."

Even as she speaks a police helicopter swoops above our heads – I say speaks, she has to shout to be heard over the battering winds. The rain is coming down harder too and the thunder's getting closer. I shiver, I'm soaked to the skin already. I only hope the chopper crew didn't spot us.

"So the question is...," Caitlin's livid. She paces in front of Oakley and Benedict like a thing possessed. "Which one of you two has betrayed us?" She looks both of them in the eye and steps back slightly. "What, no takers? Looks like I'll have to shoot you both then."

She waves that pistol about like a wild animal. I hope the safety's on. Oakley and Benedict are obviously spooked. They look at each other before looking at me and Alison. See, now she's got my attention. Because now, she's as calm as anything.

Caitlin gets in their faces now. "You two have been acting very suspiciously. I mean, Oscar, you lied to Harry."

"We all did. You knew what I knew about her."

She scoffs. "And Dale, who was you little phone call to at two in the morning? Because Harry heard you – you'll take care of it. Friday."

"It wasn't what you think."

"Then what was it, Dale?!"

Now Oakley's losing his temper. "And what about you, Caitlin?! Harry got lost in those woods before, didn't she? No one really knows how you escaped Veer's men."

My eyes are fixed firmly on Alison – though I'm discreet – as the three of them continue to fight it out. For some reason now, she's caught my attention. She's not said a single thing and she's suddenly very calm. I mean, I'm on edge, uncomfortable. But Alison.... she's cold, blank. She's watching them very closely as they argue. And if I'm not mistaken, though it is pitch black up here, I could swear that's a smirk on her lips. The sort of smirk a viper wears when it's caught its prey sleeping. I'm pulled back to reality when Benedict screams. I look over to see Caitlin towering over him. She has him by the scruff of his neck, on his knees and is brandishing the weapon, very close to his face. She screams at him as she bashes him across his cheek with the butt of the gun, cutting his face wide open. Time to step in. I rush over and grab her wrist as she attempts to lash out again, this time at Oakley. I have to drag her back. She's like a raging beast.

"Caitlin, stop! Just stop!" I push her away and place myself between her and the others. "Clearly this isn't working!"

"We're not leaving here until I find the bastard who killed my friend!"

She lunges for them again but I manage, just, to hold her back. Out of the corner of my eye I can see Oakley and Benedict cower together, clearly terrified. Again, Alison hasn't moved. She hasn't flinched once. Was I wrong about her? My heart seems to beat ten times faster as my gaze switches from Caitlin, to the men and Alison. Time seems to be going in slow motion all of a sudden. I almost don't believe what I'm seeing. I'm sure Alison's pulling out a....

"Alison!"

She has, she's got a gun.

"What are you doing? It's Alison! She's the traitor!"

I scream out at the top of my lungs to make myself heard over the others as they scream at each other. But it's too late. The smile on her lips widens as the others realise in horror. She raises the gun before Caitlin can react.

"Just, put it down and slide it towards me. Nice and slowly if you please."

Caitlin does as she asks as we all stand stunned. There's only shock. Alison nods, cackling.

"Yes, it was me. Little old, bumbling me. The one none of you suspected, the one who befriended, mothered you," she looks me in the eye. "The one who told you the truth. I've been making sure Veer was always one step ahead. I covered up IAEA findings at the various nuclear plants – making sure the accidents never became public knowledge or ensured they could be played down. I covered up the death of your parents," she looks to Caitlin. "And I killed your friend Andrew Tate. He.... stumbled across me, as I was placing those charges in the complex. I just had to kill him. And now I have to kill you."

"Why? Why did you do it, Alison?"

"Because I could, my dear. And he pays me more than the IAEA ever could. You had your chance, Harry – you and Caitlin. You could have turned your back, but no. Veer was very specific. He thought that you might have something like this in mind. If he can't capture you, I kill you. Simple. I'll start with the soldier, with her gun. And then I'll put a single bullet through each of your heads. It'll look like murder suicide. Tragic – happening a lot these days."

"So he was right." We all look at Dale who's stood, hands on hips, laughing and shaking his head. "I never.... I never thought he could be right, not really. I've known you a long time, I never truly thought that you could...."

"Who was right?" Caitlin asks.

"My friend and mentor in the IAEA. He had his suspicions about Alison, for a long time. He knew she was covering up, changing and forging documentation. Giving seriously at risk nuclear plants clean bills of health. He just couldn't prove anything. So, when he heard she'd been chosen for this taskforce, he made sure I would be too. So that I could keep an eye on her. She wouldn't suspect me – the hypochondriac, junior scientist. The loner."

I look at Caitlin. "Did you know about this?"

"No. Harry I'll be honest with you, I had my suspicions about Alison. I agreed with you because you seemed so sure, but I...."

"I didn't want to believe it," Dale continues, "but he was right. Why did you do it, Alison? We're supposed to stop the accidents, the rogues. We're supposed to be the good guys, protecting the industry, making it safer."

"Veer offered me more."

"So you were seduced by money and power, is that it? You're a coward, Alison. You're no scientist, you have no honour. You're pathetic. I promised him I would stop you before you could hurt anyone else."

Alison laughs hysterically. "Dale, you are nothing but a junior scientist. Standing in my shadow. A hypochondriac. And you call me pathetic. I fooled you all – not a single one of you believed it was me."

"That's not true." Caitlin steps forward. "I started to suspect you. I don't know why, but something in my gut was pushing me towards you. I didn't show it because I'm good at my job. I'm trained to trust no one. Harry is the only one I knew was completely innocent."

"But you weren't sure, were you? I had you all questioning each other's loyalty, fighting amongst yourselves, running in circles. So you can't be that good at your job, can you, Captain?"

Caitlin doesn't reply to that, her mouth hangs open but no words come out. Alison's right. She's played us extremely well. She's been very clever.

"Alison...." Dale starts. He's to her left now – used Caitlin's distraction to get round her.

"End of the conversation I'm afraid. I have a jet waiting to take me to Switzerland."

She raises the gun to Caitlin's head but Dale raises a gun to her head.

"Don't make me do this, Alison. Throw down your weapon. No one has to die tonight."

She glances to him and laughs. "You won't kill me, you're a coward."

"I was given two choices – just like you. If I can't deliver you to the IAEA in chains, I'm to eliminate you. I might not like it, but I don't have a choice. I won't let you pull that trigger. Put the gun down and get on your knees with your hands above your head."

"No."

"I won't warn you again, Alison. Please, don't make me pull this trigger."

The look in his eyes says he will. But Alison is unconvinced as her weapon remains firmly at Caitlin's head. It's a question of who falters first in this standoff.

"I mean it! I will pull this trigger!"

"No you won't! You are a gutless coward!"

She laughs as she looks at him and takes a step back, preparing to fire her gun. Her finger hovers on the trigger and a shot rings out.

The smile on Alison's lips quickly disappears. Blood flows down her neck from the gunshot wound. She cups her hand to the wound and looks up at Dale and at the smoking gun in his hand before dropping to her knees. It only takes another second for her to fall face down on the concrete, dead.

We stand motionless in the rain, completely in shock at what's just unfolded. We're speechless. Alison's blood runs away with the rain and we just stare at her body. I can feel the colour drain from my face and I feel.... dizzy. I double over, my hands on my knees, taking deep breaths. I notice Oakley and Caitlin doing the same. Dale is motionless, calm. He glares down at Alison's body, the gun still firmly in his hand. He's.... callous almost. He squats and turns her body over. Placing his weapon on her chest, he makes sure her fingers are firmly wrapped around it before picking up the weapon she had. He looks up at me and holds my gaze before standing and slipping the gun into the inside pocket of his jacket.

"I don't understand.... I can't...." Oakley stutters for words. "Alison was....."

I swallow as I find my voice. I feel angry at his deception. "Why didn't you tell us, Dale?"

"I couldn't. It would have jeopardised everything. If she'd found out that I knew about her dodgy dealings and was sent to spy on her....

"You put us in danger knowing she was...." Oakley starts, pacing and running his hands over his head.

Caitlin steps up to him. "If you'd told us, Andy might still be here!"

"I'm sorry. I was ordered not to break my cover, not until I had to. I had to make Alison - all of you - believe that I was the hypochondriac loner. The one always in the background. Again, I apologise for my deception."

"No." I swallow as I stare at her body before looking directly at Dale. "I'm sorry. I was so sure that it was.... you or Oakley...."

"We both were." Caitlin looks up at Oakley and Dale.

"Alison was good at deception."

Caitlin scoffs. "She didn't fool your friend, did she?"

"Can you forgive us?"

"We're a team. Of course we forgive you. Alison was.... clearly she was an exceptional liar."

Oakley smiles at us and Dale nods his head in agreement.

"What do we do now?" I ask.

Caitlin sighs. "We get away from here, far away."

"But this isn't done – Veer, the conspiracy."

"We need a break, Harry. We need to stop, we need to, to get our heads around this. We need to get away – Brighton maybe, fresh air."

"I agree. I'll contact my.... friend, tell him it's done."

Oakley turns to him. "Your friend, he wouldn't happen to be Sir Carter Anderson, would he?"

Dale smiles. "You know him."

"Somewhat – he founded this taskforce. He's a good man. Brilliant mind. You will stay on with us, won't you?"

He nods. "Besides, I have no choice, you've lost two already."

The sirens seem to get louder as more police cars gather below. I swallow hard as the helicopter hovers into view again.

"Perhaps we should make a quick exit."

Caitlin follows my lead."She's right. Veer's clever, he'll start searching soon."

"I'm more worried about that chopper."

As we start back down the metal staircase, I look back.

"What about Alison's body?"

"Let Veer find it. It should send him a nice clear message."

We make our getaway easily enough and are soon merging with the traffic back on the main road. I'm troubled. I trusted her and believed her. I couldn't see past her lies. And it's got me thinking, what else did she lie about?

FOURTEEN: INTERMISSION

I hesitate outside his door. Taking a deep breath, I find the courage to knock. He calls for me to enter so I do, even though a part of me is telling me to run in the opposite direction. Dale is sat at his desk, reading over some papers. As I approach, he looks up.

"What can I do for you, Harry?"

I hesitate. My throat is so dry. "I don't know if you erm.... Alison took some blood samples. I was unwell and I thought.... I just wondered if you...."

"Had your results? Yes, I've got them. I was just about to come and see you actually. Come in, sit down," he stands and goes the shelf on the far wall. He picks up a brown file and sits next to me. My hands are shaking so violently I can't move them. Dale smiles sympathetically and opens the file. "It seems you contracted a rather aggressive virus. Nothing to be too concerned about, but with your condition, I would like to keep an eye on it."

"Are you sure it's only a virus?"

"Yes. It's the unusual weather I'm afraid, playing havoc. How are you feeling now?"

"Better. I haven't been sick for a while now so...."

"Good. I'll take some fresh blood samples, run the tests again, just to make sure...."

"That it's not something else?"

He stares at me for a long time and sighs. He grips my trembling shoulders gently. "Harry, it's not that. I assure you."

I swallow hard and jump to my feet. "It's just.... Alison told me that it would start like this. I just wondered.... I mean she lied to us..... What else did she lie about?"

He sighs again. "Sit back down."

I do as he asks. He sits forward, close to me, and takes my hands in his.

"Harry, she didn't lie to you about your condition. That was one of the few things she didn't lie about. I have scrutinised your medical records, they are quite conclusive. Yes, it will start with severe vomiting, but it is not happening now. There will be other symptoms such as headaches, violent headaches. Diarrhoea. Swelling, changes to your skin. Have you had any of those symptoms?"

I shake my head. "No."

"This is a virus, nothing more. I want to run the tests only to make sure that you're fighting it, given your condition. We need to be very careful when it comes to your health."

"Is there a cure?" He holds my gaze, hesitant. I swallow. "I'm not afraid, Dale. Tell me."

"No. And the chances of a cure being found are.... There may be a cure one day, but it's not likely one will be found in our lifetime."

"Well.... That's.... that's all I wanted to know. Thank you, Dale. And I'm sorry, I got you wrong."

I stand and march to the door. Before I can leave he calls out to me.

"Harry...."

I want to leave but something stops me. I turn back to him.

"She lied to me – Alison. She said it could be.... that it was happening now. I'm scared, Dale. This thing, inside of me is killing me. But I don't know how or when."

"Harry, she was trying to scare you. There isn't much difference between your blood work in the recent tests and the tests undertaken eight months ago." He groans and rubs his tired eyes trying to think of a simpler way to explain. "There haven't been any significant changes to your system, so far. It could take years for the deterioration to...."

"Or just days. You can't be definitive, can you? Because this has never happened before, I'm a freak of nature. I shouldn't be here, I should have died alongside my parents.... Maybe you should explain it to the others, Dale, because I can't. Caitlin still thinks that I'll be cured."

"She's fallen for you, hasn't she? You need to talk to her about this, Oscar too."

"I've tried. She won't listen."

"Make her listen. Tomorrow afternoon could be the right time, when we're all together. We're your friends, Harry. And you are going to need all the support you can get."

Tomorrow afternoon – we're having a bit of a.... a dink, in Andrew Tate's honour. We haven't really had the chance to mourn him.

I swallow hard. "We've been.... I and Caitlin...."

"Having a sexual relationship?"

I nod. "Can I.... infect her?"

"No, you're not contagious. Your condition cannot be passed on – that is perhaps, the only blessing. I see no reason why you should stop having sexual relations."

"Something else Alison lied about then. She told me that I could pass it on, infect others."

"She was playing a game with you, Harry. Trying to get you to distance yourself from us. Look, if you want to talk about this, properly, my door is always open. I might not be able to cure you, but I can advise you. There are ways of delaying the inevitable. We could look at your diet, exercise etcetera. Yours is a strange case, Harry. Unheard of. Even if you just need a shoulder to cry on, I'm here."

After all that's happened, he still willing to help me in any way he can. He's not the man I judged him to be. Just goes to show you can't judge a book by its cover.

"Dale.... I thought I was a better judge of character. But I, I got you wrong. I'm so sorry."

"Don't be. Alison was a brilliant liar. She fooled us all, in one way or another. You're human, Harry. We all make mistakes."

"Yeah but.... I accused you. But you're still willing to help me. You're a good man, Dale. I'm sorry I couldn't see that. I don't know how to make it up to you."

"You don't have to. I don't do grudges, I'm better than that."

"I don't deserve your help, Dale."

"Rubbish. Now, you need to rest. I'll take the bloods in the morning."

I flash him a faint smile and leave without another word. I thought I'd gotten used to my fate, accepted it. Clearly I was lying to myself. Dale and Oakley – they are good men. They've forgiven me and Caitlin, and we accused them point blank.

We're sat together, nursing large whiskies, paying our last respects to Tate. We're all still trying to come to terms with Cain's betrayal, and with everything that's happened in the last couple of weeks. None of us speak. We've all said our pieces – cleared the air, sort of. But there's still tension between us all. I suppose it's starting to sink in. The shocks gone, now it's just.... My mind's preoccupied for another reason though. Dale was right – Caitlin and Oscar do have a right to know the truth. Maybe now, while we're coming to terms with other things, is the right time to have this talk with them. I've thought about this day for a while now, and what I'm going to say. But no, I can't. Not with things as they are now - there's still an air of mistrust, anger. My voice fails me. My eyes meet Dale's and I gulp down my drink. You see, a part of me was still clinging to hope. It's all become too much. I look at each of them, place down my glass and march out of the door, ignoring their calls. Even as they pursue me, I ignore them and my march turns into a sprint.

Caitlin finds me on the beach at sunset. I sit watching the sea as the sun sets behind it. I don't look at her as she sits beside me. She shivers and blows into her hands as a bitter chill sweeps across us – a gust of wind, so powerful, it carries some of the sand along with it. It doesn't bother me – I like the sting.

"We've been looking for you for hours. You shouldn't have run off like that."

When I don't reply, she sighs and turns away to stare at the sunset. And we sit like this for a while. I don't know how long. Time seems to be deceptive these days.

"There's something I have to say to you, because you have a right to know. I'm dying." I look to her. "For real."

"We've been through this. There might be something...."

"Just listen, Caitlin! Please!" I glare pointedly at her before looking back to the sea. "I had a chat with Alison, at Sellafield. She told me everything."

"She was a traitor...."

"Dale's confirmed it. There is no cure. Dale tells me, that one might be found one day," I laugh. "But it won't be in my lifetime. I don't know when, but it is going to happen, Caitlin. I shouldn't have survived, that's the truth of it."

A long silence descends between us. I can see in her – she doesn't really believe me. Hope still burns bright in her eyes.

"And it hurts." I finally croak as my throat and lips are so dry. She looks directly at me but I don't look at her. "I thought that it had sunk in, thought that I had accepted it. And you know what – I find I've lost my faith. In people. In justice. In this fucking world!"

"Harry...."

"You know, I wake up in a morning – not that I really sleep – but I wake up and I.... I get this real sense of.... dread. And then, then I wish.... I wish that I'd jumped – when you saw me on that bridge, I wish...."

I stop and she just stares at me. She doesn't speak. Doesn't know what to say I suppose. I let another few minutes of silence pass.

"I don't want to die, Caitlin. I don't want this. I want a normal life."

"Harry, you are not...."

"I am! And there is nothing, anyone can do about it! Time to face the facts. Do you think that this is an easy thing to say, that I want to say this?"

Now I look at her and again, I find her sitting so close to me, so close I can feel the warmth of her breath, her body.

"Harry...," she whispers.

As a tear rolls down my cheek she wipes it away with a single finger. And she lets that finger linger on my skin. And there it is again – that.... connection. That feeling, I haven't felt in such a long time. Desire and longing.

I whisper. "I want to kiss you...."

She smiles and laughs before looking right into my eyes. "So kiss me then."

I stare at her and she stares back. I can feel her breath on my face as her breathing is steady, and.... and I do it. I kiss her. And she answers my kiss with her own. I can't describe it. It's like.... all spark and magic. But alas, I pull away and drag myself to my feet. She's clearly hurt by my sudden rejection, but I can't help that. How can I ask her to love me? I am scarred and I am dying. I don't know how long I've got. I could live for years yet.... or I could die in next few minutes.

"Kiss you goodbye."

"What?"

"I can't do this, Caitlin. I can't let you love me. The nights we spent together were mistakes." I turn to glare at her. "And they won't happen again." My words and the look in my eyes hurt her. That's clear.

"You can't tell me...."

"Yes, I can. Because there is something I need to ask. There's something important that I want, need you to do for me. You're the only person, I trust with this. When it's time, when I'm.... Caitlin, I want you to make it quick. I want you to put your gun to my head, and pull the trigger."

Now it's her turn to glare at me. And her eyes are so full of.... rage at my request. Her breathing heavy, she jumps to her feet to confront me eye to eye.

"You can't ask me to do that, Harry."

"I can and I am."

"You don't even know if you're going to..... We might find a treatment or.... something. You can't give up."

I step back but hold her gaze. My face is unreadable. Blank. "Haven't you listened to a word I've said?! There isn't going to be some miracle cure! There is no treatment, Caitlin! There is nothing Dale can do! I have to face that, so do you and the others!" I take a long breath, looking away for a moment but my eyes always fall back on her.

"But asking me to...."

"I've thought long and hard about it for a while now – since Sellafield actually. It is going to be bad, Caitlin. I mean, really bad. Long and lingering. It's going to really hurt, every second until I finally..... I don't want to go out like that. I don't want you, to have to see me go out like that. Please, Caitlin, you are the only one, I can trust with this." I reach out to caress her cheek before running my fingers over her silky hair. "And that's why I won't let you love me."

She moves her hands up to her hips and sighs before looking back at me.

"You're a fool then. You know you're dying, you should live every single moment you have, to the full. Laughing, living. Loving. If you're trying to protect me, I don't want protecting." She moves closer to me and reaches up to run her fingers over my skin. "Do you really want to spend each night, what could be your last, alone? Or do you want to spend them with someone who wants to be with you?"

"I want – need – you to promise me, Caitlin."

"I will do what you ask of me, on one condition. Let me love you. Let me hold you at night, kiss you, make love to you. Don't push me out because you want to protect me. You once told me, that you didn't want protecting. Well neither do I."

I smile faintly. "I can't let you, Caitlin, knowing what you are going to do for me. I mean it. Because you are going to have to look me in the eye and if I let you love me, it'll kill you."

"But it might not even...."

"No! See, this is the reason why I can't love you, Caitlin. I can't love someone who is still clinging to the idea that I'm not going to die, that someone's going to find a cure. I can't talk to you about it because all I get back is, you're wrong. We'll find a cure. There is no cure! Don't you get it?! Are you really so stubborn that you...."

"You can't talk to me? Who listened to you when you were fighting fears about your burns? Who held you tight...?"

"I'm dying! You won't accept that! It's like you've got blinkers on! I'm having a hard enough time myself getting my head around it! And you're making it worse!"

"You're being selfish! Killing yourself is the cowards' way. And asking me to do it! You selfish coward!"

"Caitlin...."

The way she looks at me right now, it could turn you to stone. She scoffs as she runs her fingers through her hair. She reaches out to touch me but I back away. My mind's made up, and, her words have hurt me, more than I'm willing to show. As a tear rolls down her cheek, she turns and runs off towards the lights of town.

Once again, I find myself at his door. I don't know why but I feel myself drawn to him. Maybe it's guilt. Maybe. I enter without knocking. He's immersed in a book. The only light is from a candle on the cabinet beside the bed.

"I'm dying. There, I said it. I'm finally admitting it myself."

He looks up as I say it, tears streaming down my face. I bite my lip, so hard it bleeds. And the tears just keep on coming.

"Harry."

He drops his book and stands, rushing over to me and taking me by the shoulders. He sits me down on the bed and squats in front of me, my forearms still firmly in his grasp.

"I'm scared, Dale. I am so scared. I don't want to die. I don't want any of this. I feel like I'm being punished for something I...."

"This is not your fault."

"It feels like it is. It hurts. I don't know if I'm strong enough anymore. I don't know if I can keep this up for much longer – keep fighting. Everything hurts so much. I want to live a life. I want to fall in love...."

"I thought that you and Caitlin were...."

"I can't. She's still clinging onto the hope that there'll be a cure. I can't talk to her. She won't listen or accept...." I take a deep breath in a vain attempt to calm myself. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have disturbed you."

"Yes, you should. I told you, that if you wanted to talk about this, my door was open. I meant it. You can talk and I'll just listen. I won't say a word unless you want me to. You're bleeding."

He pulls out a handkerchief and gently dabs at the wound on my lip.

"They need to know the truth, Harry. You're our friend." He falls silent for a while before swallowing. "Did you fall in love with her?"

"I don't know. If you want the truth, I'd never...."

"You'd never had a sexual partner before."

I nod. "I had this.... stupid idea that I was going to drop dead there and then. So I.... I didn't want to die before I'd had sex."

He smiles. "Well, you're young, you could, feasibly, still have many years. There's no reason why you shouldn't go out there and.... do what other women your age do."

"How can I? Who could ever fall in love with me? How could I ask someone to romance me? Look at me, Dale. I'm a scarred.... freak."

He winces at that word. "I don't think you are a freak. I think you're beautiful. Like a rose in full bloom. Like a brand new butterfly, fresh from its cocoon."

I blush. "I thought you were a scientist."

"I was in love, once. She was like you, dying. Brain tumour. It made her.... very ill. But I didn't care." He smiles as he remembers. "I loved her, so much."

"I'm sorry."

He looks up at me and smiles. "If I was a few years younger, I would romance you. I would make sure that you knew all the joys of love. I would show you the world and wonders of it. You're scared – rightly so. I wouldn't let you go through this alone."

He never takes his eyes off of mine as he wipes a tear from my cheek with his thumb. He is so close to me now we share breath. I never noticed before just how handsome he is.

"I feel like a stranger in my own body. I want to do the things that others my age do."

"So do them. Don't let this thing inside of you stop you. And certainly don't let the scars stop you."

"That's what she said."

"She's right, Harry. Every night should be special. You should strive to see every sunrise and sunset. You should strive to experience everything you possibly can."

I find myself drawn to Dale, as I was drawn to Caitlin when this story began. There's one difference, he's not in denial. He's here, he's listening. He knows it's going to be heartbreaking but.... I don't even think about it. My hands clasp his chin and I kiss him – not just a peck, a proper, passion filled kiss. I pull away and we just stare at each other, breathless.

"Harry, I...."

"You listen to me.... You're the first person to call me beautiful." After moment, realisation hits and I sigh and stand. "You're right, I'm sorry, I shouldn't.... I should go."

He takes my hand and grips my chin to make me look up into his eyes. He dips his head to plant a sensual kiss onto my lips - a kiss I answer with my own. He takes me into his strong arms and our heads touch as our lips part.

"Harry, I.... I don't want to hurt you."

I laugh. "Hurt me? I don't think you could."

"What about Caitlin?"

"She's forced me from her because she won't listen. And I want to talk about what's going to happen to me. I've spent, so long, running from it, I need to face it."

"She denies it because she cares."

"You care, but you're not denying it. You're here, listening."

He sighs and closes his eyes for a second. "Lying to you.... Lies hurt more than the truth."

Our lips meet again and so do our tongues. In slow movements, he lifts my shirt over my head and I fiddle with the buttons on his. I never noticed before – he has quite the upper body. I run my fingers across his chest hair and lay my head against it. I can almost feel his heart beating.

I lay on the bed and he sits beside me, towering above me. My heart is racing and my body is.... tingling with anticipation. His nearness makes my body hard and willing. The touch of his fingers on my naked skin only intensifies my excitement. He kisses the nape of my neck and my hands brush against his groin – his groin becoming hard at my touch. I give a slight moan of delight as he enters me. I can feel him inside and he is so gentle, but skilful. My hands scratch his body as I struggle to contain myself as I'm overcome with pleasure. We move as one, our bodies reading each other, anticipating each other. He kisses me as moan after moan escapes my lips. I see him grimace as he comes inside of me and I feel it too. We come together. My body convulses and I grip his flesh, so tight that I make him bleed. But he doesn't complain. He holds me as I tremble in his arms. Our breathing is heavy as we look into each other's eyes and our bodies are moist. We don't speak and we don't move from our position - and I don't want him to. In this moment, I want him again. I want to feel what I just felt, again. It felt good. It feels like bliss. It made me feel alive again. My eyes are filled with panic as I notice the blood on the sheets but he just smiles and kisses my forehead.

"It's ok. It's your first time, first experience of penetrative sex, it's perfectly normal."

His voice more so than his words calms me. I don't say a word. I look up into his eyes and hold him to me.

It's late now and I lay awake in his arms, my head on his chest. He too is awake and he runs his fingers across my bare back ever so gently – it's almost as if he's afraid he's going to break me. I pull myself up him so that our eyes are level. I can feel his body trembling beneath me.

"I haven't been entirely honest with you, Dale. Caitlin's angry at me because I.... I can't die like that. I don't want you to see me suffer, any of you. You said yourself what it's going to be like. If I have to die, I've decided I want to go out my way. While I still have control."

"You're talking about suicide."

I just stare at him before swallowing. "My mind is made up."

He sighs but he doesn't argue with me. He looks away for a moment but quickly looks back into my eyes and nods.

"I got you wrong, when we first met. I thought you were.... I don't know."

"That was an act, Harry. I was undercover. You're about to see another side, the real me."

His breathing deepens as I let my hand brush his groin. I kiss his neck and whisper into his ear.

"Can we do it again?"

As I pull back and stare into his eyes, his hands grip my forearms and we roll in the bed so he's on top of me. For a second he just towers, staring into me, but then I feel him enter me and I close my eyes, my hands caressing every inch of him. Again, I find he is gentle inside of me but the pleasure he gives is so intense. This time, he is less afraid of breaking me. His hands caress the flesh and erect nipples of my breasts as he kisses and nibbles the nape of my neck. He grimaces as I pull on his chest hair and scratch. It seems to last longer this time too – much longer. Never ending even. Again, we come together and we both fail to stifle the moans that rise in our throats. He falls onto the sheets, next to me, his hands still clasping mine as he pulls me to him. I nestle into him and close my eyes as sleep overpowers me.

I wake slowly, wrapped in the bed sheets. I rub sleep my eyes and prop myself up on my elbows.

"Morning." A shirtless Dale sits beside me. "Are you ok?"

I nod. I don't know what to say, I feel a bit awkward actually. I guess he does too – he blushes slightly and lowers his eyes. I never actually intended to jump into bed with him, it just.... happened. I cough.

"Can we.... can we keep last night, just between you and me?"

His eyes meet mine. "I won't say a word." He smiles coyly. "Although, I was planning a brief announcement."

As he bursts into laughter I playfully punch his arm before smiling.

"Was that a smile?"

"No."

He gently runs his thumb across my cheek and kisses my forehead.

"Do you want to go first?"

"No. I'll follow you in a few minutes."

He smiles and grabs his shirt as he stands. I watch him pull it on and at the door he turns and flashes me a smile before exiting. I sigh and flop back in the sheets. What have I done?

I swallow the coffee hard, refusing to make eye contact with Dale. He chats nonchalantly with Oakley. I can't stop thinking about last night. I tense up as Caitlin enters. There's a clear tension between us which Dale and Oakley can't help but pick up on. She ignores me completely as she pours coffee and marches back out of the room. I feel eyes on me and I blush.

"Is everything alright?" Oakley asks.

I struggle. "Err.... I have to...."

I stand and follow Caitlin.

I find her sat on the step outside the door. I swallow before sitting beside her.

"Caitlin, I'm...."

"No. You were right.... You hurt me, Harry, with the things you said."

"It's how I feel. I know you helped me overcome my fears and I thank you. But I meant every word I said to you. You hurt me too, with what you said."

"I'm s.... I'm sorry. But asking.... How can you just...."

"Forget what I asked you to do for me, Caitlin. I was wrong to ask, it's my responsibility. When this is done, I'm going.... far away. So when the time comes, I'll do it myself."

I stand and attempt to go back inside but she grabs my hand.

"You've thought about it before – suicide. I saw you, remember, on that bridge. You said you wish you'd jumped."

"Almost wish I'd jumped. I couldn't do it because I couldn't accept what is happening to me. A part of me still had hope, I guess. Something always stopped me. But now, I have accepted my fate, my mind is very clear. It could be years, Caitlin."

"Did you shag Dale?"

"What?" I turn back to her.

"I saw you sneak into his room last night. Did you have sex with him?"

I don't answer but my eyes betray me. She gives a faux smile and nods, turning away.

"Why? Because he's not clinging to hope? Because he didn't sugarcoat the truth?"

"Yes."

With that, I turn from her and march back inside.

"Where are we going to operate from?" I ask once we're all settled in for the night, while we're discussing what we do next.

"Sir Carter Anderson has solved that problem for us. Dale."

"Carter has an estate in Oxford. He's kindly granted us permission to use it. It's a fairly large estate, so we should be comfortable. Safe too. Carter was always very security conscious. No one will know we're there."

"Do we get to meet our benefactor?" I ask.

"No. Regrettably, his work in Vienna is of the highest priority."

"At IAEA Headquarters?" Oakley looks up at him with a raised eyebrow. "Dale, is there something else you'd like to share with us?"

"Carter has.... suspicions that this conspiracy runs deeper than just the United Kingdom. He can't be certain with the evidence he has, but his suspicions have been proved right before, haven't they?"

I sit forward. "You're talking about a global conspiracy?"

"It's too early to tell, but perhaps."

"So where does that leave this taskforce?" Caitlin asks.

"I don't know. We were set up to put an end to conspiracies and cover ups, so...."

"Is there anything else you need to tell us, Dale?"

He shakes his head.

Caitlin stands. "If you're lying...."

"I'm not."

She squares up to him, looking deep into his eyes. After a moment, she looks to me and back to him before marching out of the room. Oakley clears his throat.

"I think I'll turn in, I can feel a headache coming on."

Dale watches him leave before turning to me.

"Did you tell her about last night?"

"She guessed."

He sighs and sits close to me. "Are you alright?"

I give him a faint smile before resting my head on his shoulder.

Anderson's estate is vast and secluded. Dale wasn't joking when he said he was security conscious. The grounds are cut off from the outside world by a ten foot high concrete wall. Even if you get over that, behind it is a six foot electrified barbed wire fence. Then you have the security guards – hired mercenaries by the looks of them.

"Can we trust these goons?" I ask as we drive past a cluster of them.

Dale smiles. "These men were handpicked by Carter himself. We can trust them. Whatever Veer could offer them, Carter can triple."

The grounds themselves are beautiful. Well kempt and clean. Oak trees line the road up to the house with various statues dotted about here and there. The house.... stunning. Very old manor house, like you see in films. Part of it looks like it's been refurbished recently – must have been badly damaged in the bad weather. It's kind of a mix of old and modern. The original oak doors remain but most of the windows are new, double glazed. To the left and right of the building are two fountains, with cherub statues in the centre.

Inside the place is like a fortress – a very prestigious fortress. Iron bars across the windows, bullet proof walls and doors. Armed guards and a strong room marked armoury, state of the art security locks and cameras. But then there are gold plaques and tapestries on the walls. Marble statues and suits of armour. Velvet royal blue carpets throughout and oak four poster beds in the bedrooms. Marble tiled bathrooms complete with gold furnishings. And this is to be our home for the foreseeable future.

FIFTEEN: INTO THE VAULTS

We have to get into Veer's vaults, but it won't be easy - and I'm not talking about the job. We're all on a knife edge, under immense stress. The last few days, we've had time to dwell. Tempers are fraying under the weight of recent revelations. The tension between me and Caitlin is obvious and I sense another argument approaching.

"We need to get into Ernest Veer's vaults. It's the only option we have left."

"Are you in charge now, Dale?" Caitlin looks up at him.

"No. I was stating a fact."

"How are we supposed to trust you when you've lied to us for so long?"

"That's your problem."

"Yes it is. My colleague died because of you."

"Me? You're the one who opened your mouth, confronted us when you found out about a traitor."

"And I wouldn't of if I'd had a heads up from you, Dale."

Oscar slams his hand down on the table, setting off an echo. "Caitlin that is enough! What has gotten into you?"

"Why don't you ask Harry? Ask her what she asked me to do."

I sigh. "I told you to forget that."

She scoffs. "Forget that you...."

"Forget it! We have a job to do, remember! We get into his vaults and end this. Then we can all go our separate ways, can't we?"

"You don't mean that, Harry."

"Don't I?"

"Enough!"

We all jump as Oakley voice cuts through us, as the sound of his fist on the oak table echoes.

"I don't know what has gotten into you three, but we have a job to do. So we do it! End this petty squabbling now! Or we all go home and Carter finds others to finish this!"

Caitlin scoffs. "Right now, that would suit me."

"I said enough. Veer is leaving for Geneva tonight. He'll be gone for two nights only. Security at his office should be minimal, but we go in fully prepared in case it isn't. We have been through hell the last couple of weeks, yes. Don't any of you understand that this is exactly what Veer and his friends want. No more arguing amongst ourselves."

We all blush at his words. He's right, us fighting amongst ourselves is exactly what Veer wants. We're all creaking under the strain and it's going to take time for the cracks to heal fully. But we haven't got any more time to sit around and wait.

LONDON.

It's ten to midnight and we're in the building next to Veer's headquarters. We're going to break through the wall with explosive charges to get into his office. From there we hit his vaults. And this time, we've come prepared. Full Special Forces kit. Armed to the teeth, Kevlar, gasmasks etcetera. We're not playing the friendly routine anymore.

"Dale you'll stick with me, Caitlin I want you with Harry."

"I don't...."

"That is an order, Harry. We'll take the stairwell to the left, you and Caitlin will take the right. The gas should knock out any resistance but if not use your weapons. Do try not to kill anyone, especially not each other."

The charges blow dead on midnight and we charge through the opening, throwing gas canisters as we go. We took out the fire and security system beforehand so as not to alert outside authorities. We have night vision goggles so we don't even have to switch the lights on. We charge through unstoppable passing unconscious security guards sprawled out on the floor. The place is quiet, though it's hard to see ahead through the thick cloud of smoke and gas.

We split us as Oakley ordered, meeting minor resistance in the corridor that leads to the stairwell. We exchange a few shots before Caitlin tosses a canister of gas towards them. They soon fall quiet, overcome with the gas, and we push onwards.

Entering the stairwell, we take careful aim but meet no resistance. With the air clear, we pull off our gasmasks and begin our descent. About half way down, the sound of voices make us stop. Caitlin takes aim as a head pops into view in the doorway just below us. She squeezes the trigger but I tap her on her shoulder.

"Oakley said no deaths remember."

She scowls back at me but sighs, lowering her weapon. She pulls out her pistol, loaded with tranquilizes, and takes aim. Slowly stepping down a few steps for a clearer shot, she fires multiple times before bursting through the door. More shots ring out before she re-emerges.

"Happy?"

"Ecstatic."

She marches off and I follow after a brief mutter under my breath.

"Caitlin I understand you're angry but.... I never meant to sleep with Dale. It just happened. He was there, I was upset...."

"You really think that's why I'm pissed off with you?" She turns on me and scoffs. "You asked me to kill you, Harry!"

I look back as her words echo. "I'll be dying anyway."

"That is not the point!"

"Keep your voice down. Don't I have the right to die how I want?"

"We have a job to do."

With that she turns and sets off down the steps once more. I sigh and follow.

We finish our descent unopposed and meet up with Oakley and Dale on the bottom floor. The only way into the basement is via the lift, which makes things difficult if they're waiting for us. We pull our gasmasks back on and prepare for a fight. Caitlin and Dale ready gas canisters. As the doors open, they toss them out and we wait. Silence. Weapons in hand, we cautiously step out. The lights flicker above and our footsteps echo in the puddles of water.

"There are the vaults. Harry, Dale, watch the rear."

I watch Caitlin hand a charge to Oakley before turning to the corridor.

"Where are the heavies? Veer must know we'd try to get in here."

"Quiet!" Caitlin orders.

"Getting in was always going to be the easy part." Dale comments.

"I said quiet!"

We take cover part way down the corridor as the charges are detonated. If Veer's men didn't know we were in before, they will now. An alarm rings out.

"Security for the vaults must be on a different circuit."

The lift comes to life behind us.

"Move!"

We sprint towards the vaults, taking cover inside. The two vaults are interconnected. What we're faced with makes us gasp and pull off our gasmasks. We're faced with an arsenal of weapons, money, gold, diamonds. The place is a treasure trove. Not what we expected. Having said that, at the far end is a lone safe. About as wide and as tall as the room, give or take.

"Keep me covered. The charge is going to draw attention."

"No." Dale moves towards the safe. "Let me."

"What are you a safe cracker now?"

He laughs and looks back at us. "Just trust me."

Caitlin scoffs and sniffs the air before moving cautiously towards the entrance, weapon at the ready. We can hear voices at the top of the corridor but they don't seem to be moving this way. Not yet. I can't help but admire Veer's collection. Of course, this gives us a huge advantage over Veer's men. He won't want his little collection damaged, so his men are limited in what they can use against us and they'll have to be careful with their aim.

"Who the hell does Veer think he is?"

"Someone." Oakley scoops up a fist full of diamonds. "If I'm not mistaken, these are illegal."

Caitlin glances back. "Conflict diamonds?"

"Could be. We'll take a few back with us, get them tested." Oakley turns to Dale. "How are you doing with that safe?"

"I need a few minutes."

Caitlin takes a step back. "We may not have a few minutes. Hostiles coming our way – lots of them."

"Dale, get that thing open as fast as you can. Caitlin, Harry, at arms."

We get ourselves into combat positions using what little cover there is as best as we can. A deathly silence has descended. We have plenty of ammunition and the best kit in the world, but we're outnumbered. Caitlin looks back at us and motions for us to be as still as possible.

"Wait for my signal," she mouths to us.

Their footsteps and voices grow louder as they get closer to our position. My heart is racing and my hands are trembling so bad I can barely hold the gun straight. I swallow a very heavy lump in my throat as I'm once again faced with the reality that we're going to have to shoot our way out of here. I may have to take a life if I want to get out of this alive, but it will be a last resort. There is no other way out of these vaults – so once again Veer's played his hand well. The situation is not looking good for us, but we knew we'd have to fight our way out. We can clearly see our enemy now and they are nothing like the security guards we faced on the way in. Like us, these guys are armed to the teeth, wearing Kevlar and gasmasks and are clearly better trained. We have plenty of ammo but theirs is unlimited. We're boxed in down here. All they have to do is sit and wait.

"These guys are professionals." Caitlin whispers, tapping her head with two fingers. "We're going to have to shoot to kill." Oakley goes to protest but Caitlin cuts him off. "We don't have a choice."

A covered head appears in the doorway. We hold ourselves still as more appear. Caitlin gives us a hand signal to go on three.

Three seconds, it feels like forever. Caitlin counts down on her fingers. Three. Two. One. And all hell breaks loose. As the hostiles step inside the vault, we jump up. We give no warnings, we open fire and make each shot count. The men stumble and fall but their body armour saves them, so they get up and keep on coming. We scramble to put on our gasmasks as multiple smoke grenades are thrown towards us.

"Take the head shots!" Caitlin screams over the gunfire and ricochets.

That's easy for her to say, my hands are shaking like mad. I find I'm in a daze, like everything's happening in slow motion. Every time I lift my head to take a shot, a bullet heads my way. I shoot blind from my cover. I'm not a soldier, I'm fighting for my life.

"Harry, you can't shoot blind from cover like that! You'll hit one of us!" Caitlin cries as she moves towards me, firing as she goes. She drops beside me and shakes my shoulders. "Harry, trust me. They are going to kill us. Deep breaths," she taps her head with two fingers. "For the head."

I close my eyes and swallow hard but nod my agreement. Together we jump up, taking aim. And our bullets find their targets. The bodies fall, lifeless and silence soon descends.

We each stand motionless for a few moments, the smoking guns firm in our hands. Again, it seems to be in slow motion – our breathing, the river of blood and brains, the smoke from the guns. I pull off my mask, a stupid move. I get a lung full of gas and within seconds my eyes and nose are streaming. I cough and spit, trying anything to get rid of the mucus.

"Dale, you better have good news." Oakley drops a spent clip to the floor, reloading.

"Give me a minute."

"We don't have much time, Dale. That was just a first wave. They won't be so easy next time round." Caitlin warns.

Dale steps back, pulling the heavy door of the safe open. Inside is exactly what we came here for. Files. Lots of them, all marked, BEYOND CLASSIFIED. Caitlin tosses him a black bag.

"Bag them. And get a move on."

"How do we know they're what we're looking for?" I gasp between mucus filled breaths.

"Why else keep them in a safe in a vault? They must prove something."

"We'll find out soon enough. We need to get out of here first." Oakley snaps.

I open my mouth to say something but hurried footsteps make us all take cover. I grip my weapon tight – so tight my knuckles are white – and hold my breath. The footsteps are getting closer and are more cautious now. I let out a slow breath and almost jump out of my skin when I feel a hand on my shoulder. I turn to see Caitlin at my side and she motions for me to put my gasmask back on. Then there is only silence. A deafening silence.

The next thing I hear is the distinctive sound of a smoke grenade exploding close to me. After that, I'm engulfed by a wall of thick, white smoke. I can feel Caitlin next to me but I can't see her. There are those footsteps again, heavy, confident. I can't breathe. I want to pull my mask off but Caitlin's hand grips my own and she pins me to the ground. After a moment, as the footsteps stop right in front of us, she releases me, her silenced pistol ready in her hands. I hear the sound of a gun cocking and then a body hitting the floor. I strain my eyes to see through the smoke and sweat and I cough. I can feel the sweat running down my face, the itching enough to drive you crazy.

"We can't stay here!" Caitlin screams. "We need to move!"

We move from our cover slowly, expecting bullets to slam into us. Caitlin and Dale lead the way forward. The corridor is now pitch black, filled with smoke and gas. Our exit ahead is heavily guarded. They don't intend to let us escape – not alive anyway. Dale pulls out a cluster of live, and lethal, grenades. He pulls the pins and tosses them towards the lift. The screams of the men are drowned by the explosion.

We move forwards together, firing as we go, making sure that the remaining hostiles keep their heads down. They fire blind at us. I can feel the bullets, passing my head by mere inches. I can feel the wind created by the speeding bullet on my clammy flesh and my heart is beating right out of my chest. We make a run for the stairs, sprinting up them two at a time. My turn to take the lead while Caitlin covers the rear. I can hear cries and barked orders from both behind and in front of us so I hold up my hand, indicating to the others to stop. I swallow and take a few tentative steps upwards. Concrete and metal sparks dance about my feet as rifles come to life, forcing me back into cover. We attempt to retreat downwards but meet the same resistance. Caitlin curses as a ricochet bounces across her arm, cutting deep into the flesh. She bites her lip as Dale comes to her assistance, tying a handkerchief tight around the wound.

"This way."

Oakley leads us down the corridor of what must be the sixth or seventh floor. To our left there are rows of desks separated by cheap partitions and to our right, locked executive suits for Veer's wealthier comrades, his right hand men. Literally – there's not one female executive on the list.

Oakley leads us towards the lifts – it's a gamble but it's our best chance of getting out now. We wait in silence. When the doors open, we're ready with our weapons but the corridor is clear. I can hear the footsteps of our attackers on the stairs to our left and to our right, getting closer all the time. We sprint at full pelt towards the office where we made our entry and as we scramble through the hole in the wall, Caitlin hangs back.

"Caitlin?"

"Go. I'm going to leave them a little surprise. Claymore mines."

I swallow hard. I don't know what to say to that. This is an office building not a warzone, but that's exactly what it's turned in to.

"What are you waiting for, Harry? Go!"

I wait on the other side for Caitlin. Dale and Oakley went on ahead to secure a fast escape.

"I thought I told you to go!"

"I wasn't leaving you on your own. We're a team, remember."

I hold her gaze and she eventually sighs, glancing back at the hole before grabbing my upper arm and ushering me out of the room.

We sprint down the corridor towards the lift but Caitlin pulls me instead into the stairwell.

"Take the stairs, those claymores are going to cause a lot of damage."

As she finishes, an almighty explosion rips through the foundations above us and the alarms in this building deafen us. Dust and debris rains down on us as we bound down the stairs, two at a time. But the explosion hasn't shaken all of our pursuers and by the sounds of it outside, it's not just Veer's men we have to worry about. There are a lot of sirens, and they're getting closer to our location.

As we continue our descent, gunfire chases us. Bullets and little concrete shards dance about our feet and above our heads. Both Caitlin and I return fire blindly, we stop for nothing. As we burst through the door into the underground car park, we're glad to see Oakley and Dale already in the car with the engine running. Those sirens seem to be right on top of us now. We're barely in the vehicle and Dale's already flooring the accelerator, the force sending us clattering about in the back. Veer's men chase after us on foot, firing their weapons, all in vain. We're up the ramp and racing down the street in seconds – heading in the opposite direction to the rapidly approaching police, fire and ambulance.

SIXTEEN: DEFIANCE

Dale drops the bag down onto the table and we all gather round it. Our faces are moist with sweat and we're all exhausted and wanting showers. But first we want to make sure our hard work tonight has paid off, make sure it was worth our efforts. We're all eager to get our hands on the documents but Oakley brushes us away, sitting calmly with documents in hand. Caitlin sighs and paces impatiently while Dale confers with Oakley. I sit. My eyes are still sore from that gas and my ears are ringing. I've got a pounding headache too.

"Well?" Caitlin finally snaps.

"Well." Oakley clears his throat.

"Does it prove his involvement or not?" I ask trying my very best to stay calm.

"To an extent." Dale looks up at me before standing back and rubbing his temples. "If you read between the lines."

Caitlin stops pacing. "Are you saying we've wasted our time?"

"No, not necessarily." Oakley looks pointedly up at her. "These documents connect him with numerous cover ups in the nuclear industry, but not directly."

She punches the table hard. "For fuck sakes!"

"It just means we're back at square one. This information is exactly what we had in our archives, what we already knew. But at the very least it does proves both he and Chester are involved - their names are all over the documents."

"Yeah." I stand rubbing my sore eyes. "But it doesn't prove they gave the orders, called the shots. Any half decent lawyer will be able to dismiss them without a second glance. And Veer can afford the very best lawyers."

Dale sighs. "Look we can't do much tonight. We're drained, physically and mentally. Let's go over these properly in the morning, when our eyes and minds are fresh."

"I agree. We can't dismiss anything at a first glance. We'll reconvene here at say.... ten thirty."

Caitlin's the first one at the door but Dale calls her back.

"I should look at your arm."

"It's fine."

"It could get infected."

"I said it's fine!"

Without thinking I follow her out.

"Caitlin."

I grab her arm but she yanks it away.

"Caitlin, we need...."

"I'm tired."

She marches off up the stairs and all I can do is watch. It's very late now and my own body's screaming out for rest. The next thing I know there's a hand on my shoulder, Dale's.

"Harry?"

"Goodnight, Dale."

I drag myself up the stairs, I don't feel like talking.

I let out a tired sigh and toss the paper across the desk before slumping back in my seat. "All this tells us is that Veer was present at the various nuclear incidents – him and or Chester."

Oakley shakes his head. "Present at every nuclear incident since he took over from his father – every incident that has been covered up."

"But we already knew that!"

"But we couldn't back it up with evidence – now we can."

"But it doesn't prove anything! It doesn't prove he gave the orders! It's circumstantial, it's bollocks! They'll laugh at us."

Caitlin looks from me to Oakley with an amused grin on her face. "I agree with her. We're back where we started, where we've been all a bloody long."

"I disagree. The documents we had never actually named Veer or Chester as being on the site, physically, before, during or after the incidents. These documents do."

"And like I said before, Oscar, any half decent lawyer would take one look at this and laugh in our faces. We're talking about a justice system that is just as corrupt as the politicians. A joke. Anyone with wealth, power, the sort of prestige Veer and Chester have, are untouchable. No matter how many documents like these we have."

Caitlin scoffs. "That's a bit strong isn't it, Harry?"

"No. It's the truth. The men with the power get away with murder while the rest of us burn. We're wasting our time, we always have been."

"What about those diamonds we found? Are they conflict diamonds?"

Oakley shrugs his shoulders. "I've sent them for testing. We won't know for at least a few days."

"Have any of you bothered to look at the small print in these documents?"

We look over at Dale. He doesn't take his eyes off of the documents for even a second. He spreads them out in front of him, his eyes darting across each meticulously.

"Something was niggling at me all morning but I couldn't put my finger on it until now. If you look hard enough, there are what appear to be hidden orders in the text. There's one here, refers to the most recent incident at Sellafield. With the authority granted to me by H.M.G, I hereby authorise the disposal of records from plant S relating to the incident of.... The rest of the text is omitted. It's signed, E.M.V." He looks up at us and licks his lips. "There's a few of these signed orders throughout the documentation, all relating to different plants, but the coding is the same."

"The coding is crap. Anyone with half a brain could easily figure it out." Caitlin glances at each of us in turn. "Plant S is obviously Sellafield."

"It's suspicious if you ask me. These documents are probably a plant. Another attempt by Veer to catch us out, to make us a laughing stock. It feels like another set up."

Caitlin nods in agreement with me. "He's clever enough."

Oakley rubs his chin. "We must remember, these documents were never meant to be seen by anyone outside of Veer's circle. The wording wouldn't have to be complex. If anyone outside of the industry did see them.... Well, the orders are hidden within the text. Hidden by all that technical jargon."

"And only Veer's friends know how to read them, because they're the only ones who are supposed to." Dale picks up on his point. "We spent the entire morning and half the afternoon going over these things and found nothing. I just got lucky. If I didn't have a trained eye for these things...."

I scoff. "It's too simple, too easy. They have to be plant, to catch us out."

"She's right. It doesn't make sense, Veer wouldn't make a stupid mistake like this."

Oakley smiles. "In the 70s, one of the main reasons why the Watergate scandal was exposed, was because there was a piece of paper discovered with W House written on it."

"Why not destroy them? Why hide them in a vault that someone could easily break in to – especially once he was aware of our investigation?"

"Veer is overconfident and arrogant. He believed his vaults were impregnable. He hid them in there until he could dispose of them safely and without drawing attention."

"Ok, say it's plausible. Can we use these documents against them in a court of law?"

"I didn't say that. A lawyer could still disregard them by simply arguing that the signature is not Ernest Veer's."

Caitlin looks up from the paper in front of her. "Forensics could prove that it is."

"Veer has powerful friends. They could argue that we're seeing things that aren't there. So, we are back at square one." I sigh and slump back in my seat, staring at the papers. "What's H.M.G?"

"It could be anything. A name of person, an organisation."

"The government?" Even as I say it they look at me... in a way I can't describe. "Think about it. The government has always known at least some detail, regardless of who was in power at the time. We don't know for certain how deep this goes. So we can't be certain that the government isn't involved."

They're all silent, staring at nothing. They know I'm right.

"So the question remains, where do we go from here? What can we actually do?"

There's a long pause before Oakley looks up at us.

"We use these documents the only way we can. Both Chester and Veer have been actively involved in promoting the building of new reactors to the people. If we starting asking the awkward questions, the press, the public will follow."

"You hope."

"Like it or not, we have no other options available at this time. If we get out there, confront them, apply that pressure – just like you did with us to draw out the traitor.... We use everything we've got, everything that's happened, every little detail, in public, at every single opportunity. The press won't be able to resist. And that's all we need, one of them will break – if not both."

Caitlin stands and looks him in the eye before turning on her heels. I go to grab her arm as she goes but she pulls it away and marches out. This hasn't gone unnoticed.

"What is going on between you two?" Oakley asks.

I hold his gaze but swallow hard. "Nothing."

"Bullshit. Sort it out. Today."

His eyes burn into mine like fire. I drag myself up and set off in pursuit of Caitlin.

Before I can set off up the stairs, an arm pulls me back and into a small study. Dale closes the door and places himself between it and me. He stares at me, breathing deeply.

"Do you want me to talk to her?"

"She's not angry at you, Dale, or at the fact we slept together. She's angry because I asked her to...." I cup my mouth and run my fingers across my dry lips. "It's between me and her."

"You asked her to do it, didn't you? You asked her to help you die, when the time comes."

I say nothing. I just nod. He steps back slightly, running his hand through his hair.

"Suicide's one thing, but what you're talking about.... You do realise that is a criminal offence in this country."

"I don't know if I can do it myself, Dale. I've thought about it before, but haven't had the guts to actually do it. Something always stops me."

"Because it's wrong!"

"Is it? Dale, you know how it's going to be. Why do I have to suffer? Is that what you want?"

"No, of course not."

"Don't I have the right to choose? The right to die? It's not the judges or the politicians or the do gooders that have to go through it, it's me, Dale. It's my life. If I have to leave this country to get what I want then so be it. I'd rather not but.... it's a farce."

As I go to leave he grabs my arm.

"I'll do it. If she won't and you are absolutely sure.... I'll go with you and I'll.... Anaesthetic overdose should be peaceful. You shouldn't feel anything, you should just fall asleep."

I can see in his face how hard it was for him to say that. Suddenly he looks ten years older. I smile faintly and cup his cheek in my hand.

"Thank you."

I hesitate outside Caitlin's door. I know Oakley told me to sort things out between us but, she was so angry at me - so angry, I couldn't look in her eyes, it hurt too much seeing that.... anger. I rest my head on the wood, taking deep breaths, but finally I knock. I don't wait for a response, I enter.

"Caitlin, we have to talk."

"I don't really feel like talking to you, Harry. Right now, I can't even look at you."

I say nothing. I just watch her, stood at the window with her hands on her hips. It's a few moments before she turns to me, and her eyes are burning with rage. Something I haven't seen in Caitlin.

"You asked me to help you die. You asked me to.... You selfish....."

"Selfish?! Would you say that if it was you? If our positions were reversed?"

She remains silent. I scoff and nod.

"No. Didn't think so. Do you know how it's going to be? Shall I tell you? It'll start with severe vomiting and headaches. I'll lose complete control of my functions so that when I'm bedridden, I'll be lying in my own waste. And you and Dale and Oakley will have to clean me up, day after day. Each day will get worse, and I'll be in constant agony until the very end. And that's the edited version. If you want all the unedited, gory details, you can talk to Dale. It's my life, Caitlin. I want the right to choose, the right to die, while I still have my dignity."

She turns away as her eyes cloud. Silent tears are already rolling down her cheeks. My eyes are dry – no more tears left to shed.

"Please, Caitlin. You need to accept this and accept my decision. My mind is very clear and made up."

I turn to leave but she calls out.

"When did you become so grown up?" she turns to me. "When we first met you were.... an angry, petulant child."

"I've had to grow up, Caitlin. I have a lot on my shoulders."

"I still love you."

I close my eyes and let out a slow breath. I can feel her eyes on me. I lift my head, open the door and march out without saying another word.

Oscar Oakley leans on the desk and looks pointedly at each of us as we continue our discussion.

"This is about greed, yes? So where's the money going – the profits?" I ask.

"Off shore tax havens." Caitlin slumps in her seat, chewing her pen. "As always."

"Exactly, another stick to beat them with. It is tax fraud."

It's only now Oakley clears his throat. "I've just had word that there's some sort of gala being held in Hyde Park at the weekend to raise money for charity. Veer is the main benefactor, he's donating one hundred thousand pounds and will be there to hand over the cheque personally. Chester is being sent to represent Her Majesties Government, given the event's high status. This could be a prime opportunity to catch them together, in public and in front of the press."

I look up at him. "It's a bit inappropriate."

Caitlin scoffs. "I think it's the perfect opportunity to show the public the true face of their so called philanthropist."

I half laugh and stand. "He's going to give away one hundred thousand pounds - do you really think anyone's going to listen to us?"

She stands and steps up close to me. "Since we started our investigation, they've planned their schedules so that they're never together in public. We can't afford to miss this opportunity, because we may never get another chance like this."

"It's the wrong time and place. When did you get so ruthless, Caitlin?"

"When Veer had my friend murdered by that traitor."

"That's bullshit. Why don't you tell us why you're really so pissed off today."

Dale clears his throat as he steps between us. "Perhaps it is inappropriate."

Caitlin turns on him. "Then what do you suggest, Dale? Come on, you're the expert now, aren't you?"

He laughs off her comment. "We leak what we have to the press – not standard practice I know, but I'd say we're desperate enough. Then we hit them in public – whether they're together or not."

She steps up to him. "Why am I not surprised."

"Alright!" Oakley slams his fist down on the table. "We will leak our information to the press, today. But we will be attending the gala to confront both Chester and Veer. And that is final!" He glares at both Caitlin and me. "I thought I told you to sort things out between you two."

Caitlin never takes her eyes off of me. "I don't know what you're talking about, Oscar. Everything's fine, isn't it, Harry?"

I look away, swallow the lump in my throat and nod.

I can feel Oakley's eyes burning into me. I can't look at him. There's a long, awkward silence.

"Fine." He strolls to the door and turns back to us. "But you don't fool me."

We sent copies of everything we have to the press and as expected, both Veer and Chester have remain tight lipped, releasing only brief statements.... laughing off the accusations almost. They haven't even acknowledged the information to question its credibility. An indication of their guilt perhaps. As for the tax thing – they claim that they're perfectly within the law. And the press, people they still hang on their every word. They still smell of roses and the press seem reluctant to upset them – another indication of how deep the corruption goes perhaps. But they haven't exactly denied the accusations. So now it's time to stoke the fire.

It looks like it's going to be a surprisingly nice day – the suns out, the sky's cloud free. A good day for gala. Not going to be such a good day for Ernest Veer and Lucas Chester though. The atmosphere is electrified. There's an air of excitement and fun. Lots of noise and smells. Candyfloss and carnival rides. Hot dogs, burgers and popcorn. I can almost taste them, mouth watering. There's just laughter. The recession and peoples worries seem to have evaporated. They're just here to have fun, no matter how brief, and raise money for charity. There's something for everyone. Stalls selling a variety of items, foodstuffs, drinks and more. Everything you'd see at a funfair. I'd forgotten how this kind of thing makes you feel. Giddy and childlike. The atmosphere is so powerful, overwhelming, you could easily forget why we're really here. There's nothing but temptation all around you. Temptation to buy, to eat, to drink, to go on the rides or take part in the various games scatted about. I fancy a go on the dodgems. Caitlin however has not been taken over by the rush, she's as.... focused as ever.

"Chester and Veer are to be together on the main stage to hand over the check. That's scheduled for one o'clock." Oakley reads from a paper pamphlet he picked up at the entrance.

They have live music, with top bands too. It's a strategic layout – the main stage is centre with all the other attractions gathered around it. One o'clock, it means we have a few hours to kill. There's no sign of Veer or Chester, but then, it's a big spread.

"So what do we do for the next two hours?"

"I say we split up, try and get eyeballs on our targets." Caitlin turns to us. "Meet up at the main stage at twelve fifty five."

We disperse into the crowds of people, blending in – all except me. I find myself once again wearing a hooded jumper, to hide the burns. I keep my head low and my hands shoved in my pockets. Suddenly that old feeling of shame returns. I find I want to run and hide in the nearest dark place I can find. Caitlin got me over this feeling before, but now she's angry at me. All this time, with everything, I'd forgotten about the burns almost. But being here, among all these people, the same people who taunt and call.... these people would prefer me locked away out of sight. Shame. I have to stop and take a long, deep breath to calm the rising rage in me.

And there he is – Ernest Veer. Throwing money about like it's nothing. I need to be careful that he doesn't see me. He really is a two faced bastard. Looking at him now, you wouldn't know that he tried to have us killed, or that he's involved in any sort of dodgy dealings. I haven't seen Chester though.

We stand in the centre of the crowd that has gathered at the main stage. We must be the only ones not cheering and clapping as Veer and Chester stride onto the stage. There's a pure... roar almost of welcome. We give each other a quick glance and in unison march towards the stage. Of course the security guards try to stop us but we have the higher authority so all they can do is watch on powerlessly. We agreed last night that Caitlin, being a Captain in Military Intelligence, will take the lead. We're going to be tactful – unless they refuse to cooperate. Veer and Chester are not pleased to see us – Veer especially.

"Ernest Veer, Lucas Chester, we're going to have to ask you to come with us."

"I've told you before - I have nothing to say to you people."

It's almost like he's spitting venom at us. He's very red in the face all of a sudden. Chester seems to have shrunk in his shoes – that's not like him.

"We have questions that need answers, sir. If you cooperate fully...."

"I've given you answers. I've told you everything I know. Please stop trying to scaremonger."

"We're an official IAEA taskforce doing our duty, sir."

"And as you can see, I'm in the middle of something very important."

"Yes, sir. But we still have our duty, Sir. And our questions still need answers."

"Tough. This is not the right time."

Caitlin's becoming impatient now but she still manages to keep her cool.

"We have evidence that links you to a conspiracy in the nuclear industry. You can either come with us and answer our questions, in privacy. Or we can do it here, in front of these people and cameras."

"The only conspiracy here is against me, trying to tarnish my career and reputation. You have nothing worth my time or the time of the good citizens of the United Kingdom."

"Then perhaps you can explain why you and or Sir Chester were present at various nuclear plants across the UK, either during or immediately after incidents, ninety percent of which we're deemed serious and or posing an increased risk to life."

"Prove it."

"We do have copies of the documents we have obtained with us, sir." Oakley hands her the brown file. "We have also sent copies to our IAEA and UKAEA colleagues for further analysis."

He scoffs. "These aren't worth the paper they're printed on."

He doesn't even look at the papers. He tears them in two. Caitlin remains firm and unreadable.

"Sir you can destroy them all you want, I stress that they are only copies."

"It's a set up."

"Why would we set you up? We are simply doing our jobs, trying to investigate the evidence we have been presented with."

"I strenuously deny the accusations."

"So do I."

So Chester does speak. Caitlin conceals a sly smirk.

"I haven't made any accusations." She turns to us. "Did you hear me make an accusation? Sir, I simply asked a question. If you have a perfectly reasonable answer, fair enough. The matter will be dropped. I understand that you have a keen interest in the industry and its development, just like your father – who incidentally also has links to certain cover ups at nuclear stations. For instance, without naming the plant, Oscar Oakley's family killed in mysterious circumstances, after he complained to your father about a fault in the reactor which, incidentally, was the cause of another 'minor incident'."

"I have nothing more to say to you."

He goes to walk away but we're not done just yet.

"Then perhaps you'd prefer to talk about conflict diamonds. Diamonds which were found in your building in central London. Diamonds which are illegal. No? Then what about tax? How much have you actually paid? Or is it all going out to tax havens?"

"I don't know what you're talking about. And my tax matters are perfectly legal."

"We've had the diamonds tested. They are conflict diamonds. And they were found in your headquarters."

"I'm not the only one who works in that building."

"No, but the other occupiers work under you. Following your orders. That makes you responsible, wouldn't you agree?"

"Not at all. I can't be held responsible for the actions of other people, just because they work for me. And even if what you say is true and I was indeed avoiding tax, it proves nothing of a 'conspiracy', and frankly, out of your.... jurisdiction. Now if you're quite finished."

"Not quite. I'd like to talk about the murder of Captain Andrew Tate. The perpetrator was captured by myself and my colleagues and when question, claimed that she was following your orders."

"Claimed being the operative word."

"Fair enough. What about the attempt on my life, and the life of Harry Jenkins? Myself and Miss Jenkins went undercover if you recall sir, to investigate your involvement in this. It was a perfectly legal operation, given the sensitive and serious nature of our investigation. You, I and Miss Jenkins are witnesses, ordered our elimination, right there in front of us. You gave your personal security detail, the order to make it look like a murder suicide. Do you wish to comment on that, sir?"

He swallows hard at that but remains silent. We conceal smiles and Caitlin clears her throat, flashing us a quick glance. I notice Chester looking at Veer in a way I have never seen before. He notices me watching and we make eye contact before he swallows hard and looks to the floor.

"I.... you can talk to my lawyers."

"Just one last thing. We found a number of hidden documents. One of them ordered the disposal of all records from Sellafield following the most recent accident. The order was approved by H.M.G and signed E.M.V. That is your signature, Ernest Montgomery Veer, isn't it?" She smiles when he doesn't respond. "If necessary, a forensic examination can be carried out."

"This is all circumstantial. And it's rubbish."

"Then answer our concerns, and prove your innocence." She looks to Chester. "H.M.G – correct me if I'm wrong please, it does stand for Her Majesties Government, doesn't it? You should know, you are the politician with friends at the top of the food chain, aren't you? Did you bung them a few thousand pounds or did you just not bother to mention the 'minor' details?"

Again Chester looks away. Veer steps in between them.

"I, we refuse to talk with you any longer. I believe that I am a victim, that I am being made a scapegoat and set up – and that goes for Sir Chester as well. And rest assured, I will be seeking legal advice."

"Ok. We'll go." She turns as we reach the steps. "Oh, we have sent copies of everything to every major press companies in the country, but you already know that. But now their questions, I suspect, will be more.... scrutinous. And I suspect people will be less quick to believe every word you say. And don't think this is the last you'll see of us. This won't just go away, I assure you. We'll make sure of that," she winks at them. "Have a nice day boys."

The packs of journalists begin to hound Veer and Chester, shouting at the top of their lungs, fighting to be heard over one another. It seems the public too have questions about what they've just heard. We march away, our job done, huge, defiant smirks hanging on our lips. Now, we turn up the heat.

SEVENTEEN: THE HEAT IS ON

Veer and Chester are all over the press. Of course they're denying everything but, as Caitlin warned them, the press, the public, they're not so quick to accept their words this time. And the pressure is starting to get to them. Chester is trying to stay out of the way. He has already cancelled a number of public meetings and such. As for Veer well, he's not his usual charming self. He's short winded and aggressive in most interviews – not just his words, his body language – especially when asked about his tax and conflict diamonds. Overly defensive.

"Now we hit them hard. We give them no let up, no breathing space. Everywhere they go, every move they make, we'll be there, applying that pressure. Cracks are already showing. A little longer, they'll break."

"What makes you so certain, Oscar? I mean, they've knocked us back to square one, every time."

He looks up at me, surprised. That's the first time I've used his first name.

"I'm not. But I'm not ready to hang my head and admit defeat just yet. The cracks are starting to show already with the press breathing down their necks – that is blatantly obvious."

"Chester's the weak link. He's the one that seems to be cracking the most."

I bite my lip. "That's what's stumping me. Why? You've seen how Chester's been when we've questioned him. Something is going on behind the scenes."

Caitlin looks to me. "You spent all those months with him, you should deal with him."

"That's seems logical to me."

I nod. "He is not the one calling the shots. I might be able to convince him to testify against Veer, but knowing him, he'll want something in return. My guess, he'll only testify if we guarantee his safety, and his freedom."

"That can be arranged. We could of course be wrong about him. Veer could be under his thumb."

"No. He's not smart enough to be calling the shots. He acts big but that's all it is, an act."

"Ok well, he's all yours. Take Caitlin with you – just in case."

I look at her and she looks at me but neither of us protest.

We're on our way to his home. We haven't spoken since we left. It's awkward, Caitlin keeps glancing to me as though she wants to say something but words fail her.

"Harry I.... I'm sorry. I was angry at you, at what you.... I don't want to accept this. I don't want to believe that you're going to die, like that. I don't."

"You have to."

"I know! I know. Your mind really is made up, isn't it?"

I nod. "I don't want to die like that. I can't. It's my choice, my right to chose."

"I fell in love with you, Harry. But I can't.... I think you're, what you want is wrong, selfish."

I don't even look at her. "It's my life. No one has the right to tell me how...."

She bites her bottom lip and nods. "Are you having an affair with Dale?"

I close my eyes and bite my bottom lip, turning away from her. We return to silence.

We arrive at Chester's home just as he's getting out of his car. When he spots us heading his way, he sprints for his front door.

"Lucas, wait!" I call out, running up to him. "Please, we just want to talk."

He's clearly terrified. A shadow of his former self. He shakes violently, pinned up against his door. He looks from me to Caitlin and back again.

"We only want a chat. Please."

He looks hard into my eyes so I try my best to give him a reassuring look and he nods.

Inside, he leads us into the sitting room. He paces, wringing his hands.

"My... My wife has taken the children to her sister's for a few days."

Caitlin nods to me. "Lucas, we know you're not the one giving the orders. Tell us who is and we can protect you."

"No. No, you can't. Not from him."

"We can. Just talk to us, and we can finish this. Today."

He laughs hysterically. "You have no idea. No idea."

"Then talk to us."

Caitlin steps forward. "You admit that there is some sort of conspiracy at least?"

He shoots her a look and swallows hard. "You have no idea. You are way out of your depth. If you stop now, go home, you might just have a long and healthy future. But only if you stop now."

"What do you mean, Lucas?"

"Just.... leave.... me alone! I'm.... I'm in enough trouble already because of you.... because I.... because I couldn't do what was.... expected of me. I failed him, and he's mad."

"Lucas, we can help you."

"Just go! You've ruined everything! You couldn't keep your mouths shut, could you? Didn't know when to quit, can't see what you're getting into!"

"What do you mean?"

"GET OUT!"

Caitlin grips my shoulder. "Come on, we're wasting our time here." At the door, she turns back to Chester, who sits rocking back and forth in his seat. "This isn't over, Chester. We're not going to stop."

This is a Lucas Chester we haven't seen before. And what a change. What has Veer done to him? What's going on?

At Dale's door I wait. As he opens it, I push him inside, my lips on his, my hands at his groin. I kick the door shut with my foot, my lips never leaving his.

"Harry, what are you doing?"

He holds my hands in his, breathless.

"Living."

He stares deep into my eyes. We're both breathless. Unable to resist, he pulls me into a kiss, both of us tearing at each other's clothes. We waste no time with foreplay. He lifts me up into his strong arms, wrapping my legs around his waist to carry me to the four poster bed. He enters me straight away and I moan at the sheer excitement that courses through me at the feel of him moving inside of me. Our hands clasp and our tongues embrace - we try everything possible to stifle the moans of pleasure, and fail. My body arches into his and we both grimace and moan as we come together, before falling limp in the sheets. Breathless, we just stare at each other. Dale brushes a strand of hair from my eyes, letting his hand linger on my skin. He doesn't flinch at the feel of the burned flesh. And in way, somehow, his touch is soothing.

"Can I ask you something? Did you mean it, what you said, that you'll stand by me?"

He nods. "Every word."

I clasp his hand and kiss it, closing my eyes. I pull his arm around, an indication for him to hold me and he does.

Veer's giving a press statement today, announcing his businesses growth figures for the past year. We're attending too. We stand, defiant, at the back of the press pack, waiting. Only myself and Caitlin – we watch with smirks on our faces. It's not long before he notices us either, and his whole demeanour changes. Because once he notices us, so do the press. And then, the awkward questions start. Our smirks grow wider as panic fills his eyes. His answers are short and cryptic, his jaw snapping aggressively like some famished alligator. He gets more and more agitated as the press refuse to be satisfied. We glance at each other and laugh before turning on our heels and marching out. Our work here today is done.

Chester's ward surgery. He's ten minutes late, and there's already a crowd gathered. He's missed four of his meetings already, the crowds are crowing with anger. They elected him, the least he could do is show up when he's expected to. And quite right. This time, I'm alone. Like I said, Chester's the weak link. The change in him has been.... dramatic to say the least. If I can get to the bottom of it, I can get him on side. And if I can get him on side, we'll be at least one step closer to nipping this thing in the bud. He's close to breaking, but maybe applying pressure isn't a good idea with him. We don't want him to crack up completely.

Half an hour late but he's finally here. I wait, biding my time. He looks a mess. Like he hasn't slept much, if at all. It's like he's in the process of a complete mental breakdown.

"Lucas...."

"Oh no, not you again. Look...."

"I'm here alone. Can we talk? Please?"

He looks about him, at all his constituents who are taking an interest in us, before ushering me towards a small room to our left.

"Lucas, I meant what I said to you before. We can protect you."

"And I meant what I said, you can't. You have no idea what I'm caught up in."

"Then tell me. Look, you are not the man I knew eight months ago. You're broken – tell me why, who's turned into this, Lucas?"

"I can't!" he looks away to calm himself. I've never seen him like this before. "He'll do to me, to my family, what his spy did to your friend – the soldier. Worse."

"Is it Veer? You don't have to say anything, just nod."

"I can't. Now please, just drop this. Go home, while you all still can."

He goes to exit but I grab his arm. "Lucas.... Forget the past between us. You once told me that you were a good man."

"I am."

"Then prove it. Help us."

We make eye contact and I know my eyes are telling him, trust me. But still he shakes his head.

"I just can't, Harry. I'm in too deep - no exits, no lifelines." He half laughs, shaking his head. "You think it's so simple. That it's all about money. It's not. Profit is a big part of this but.... This goes way beyond accidents and cover ups. It's about so much more."

"Then come with me, Lucas, explain it to us. If you really are a good man."

"I'm sorry, Harry. For everything I, we, did to you. None of this was your fault, or your parents fault."

"Just tell me if Veer is the one calling the shots."

He looks at me, and his eyes say it all. Yes. But of course, he remains silent and still. A look in his eyes isn't good enough.

"I have to go. I'm sorry."

"Lucas, wait.... if you change your mind, contact me on this number." I hand him a slip of paper. "This taskforce won't stop, Lucas. We have power and protection. Whose side do you really want to be on? Who would you rather trust with your life, with your family's life?"

He takes the paper, looks at it and looks back at me. He smiles faintly before rejoining his constituents.

"You went alone?!"

It was more of a statement than a question as Caitlin glares at me.

"Because I knew he'd open up more."

"And did he?" Oakley asks.

"Kind of. He clearly did want to get in this as deep as he is. He's been dragged in, and I think by Veer."

"But he didn't actually say Veer?"

"No, but he didn't have to. It was in his eyes. Think about this for a second. Look at his reactions recently – that is not the Lucas Chester we, I know. It's not. He is in the shit, and not just with us."

Oakley sighs and leans on the desk. Caitlin runs her hand through her hair. Dale, Dale can't look at me. I guess he's frightened he'd give away our secret.

"Ok." Oakley finally speaks. "Harry, you keep working on him."

"What?" Caitlin stops pacing to glare at him.

I stand. "He's tempted to turn. He started to open up, he just needs a little more push."

"This is...." Caitlin starts.

"He'll talk to me! He used me, and it's killing him. You can see that every time he looks at me. You've seen it, Caitlin - all those times we questioned him. He hid it well, even fooling me sometimes, but his guilt is there."

"Alright." She looks up, looking me dead in the eye. "You're determined to get your own way, aren't you?"

I don't answer but I don't have to. She half laughs and nods before brushing past me to exit. Oakley watches her before moving close to me.

"Did he tell you anything useful?"

"He did say one thing that got my attention. He said this was about more than money. And he indicated that maybe, some of them weren't accidents at all. That there was something more to them."

"That they were deliberate?"

"He wasn't being very clear. He's scared, Oscar. I've never seen him like this \- ever."

He sighs and looks away for a second. "We all thought we knew Alison. Her deception fooled us all, Harry. Lucas could be playing the same game."

"Yes, he could. But he's not. He's losing it, Oscar. He's losing everything - his family have already left. His life is unravelling right before him and he's terrified."

"Just.... keep him at arm's length. And.... make sure you're prepared, should the unexpected arise."

He grips my shoulder before leaving the room too, leaving me alone with Dale. He clears his throat and finally looks up at me. His smile makes me go weak at the knees and I have to sit. I suddenly find myself shy. I brush my hair behind my ears before returning the smile. I can feel myself blush as he comes to my side.

"I err.... feel I should say something." His voice is but a whisper. He keeps an eye on the door.

"Can we keep this to ourselves?"

"And what is this, Harry? What are we doing?"

I don't know how to answer that, because the truth is, I don't know the answer.

"Harry...."

Before he can say anything more, Oakley returns reading some papers. He looks up at us as he senses the tension rising between me and Dale. I just hope he doesn't realises it's sexual tension. I swallow hard, giving Oakley a quick glance before making a quick exit.

Again, I and Caitlin are on our way to see Ernest Veer. This time at a party he's holding for all his shareholders. It's taking place on and around the London Eye and should already be in full swing by the time we arrive.

They've lit the place up like it's Christmas. And of course the area has been sealed off to the general public. Veer has bouncers guarding the entrance, keeping out all the undesirables who might fancy their chances – and you should see them. You wouldn't want to meet these boys in dark alley and get on their bad side. There's even a live band playing. Waiters and waitresses hand out nibbles and glasses of only the very finest champagne. Veer certainly knows how to throw a party. His guests are clearly in another league – Ladies, Lords and Sirs, all of them. All the cabinet members are here, including Prime Minister Sutton-Smyth. And if I'm not mistaken, a few high profile celebs are also in attendance. There is one person missing though – Sir Chester. A very exclusive guest list indeed. So I don't suppose Veer will be too happy to see us – if we can get past the bouncers.

We stride right up to the entrance and Caitlin makes short work of the bouncer who tries to stop us. She throws him to the ground like he's nothing. When his friends come to his aid, she politely reminds them that we are carrying out an official investigation and have authority to go anywhere we think necessary. They make no fuss and we stride past, self satisfied smirks on our lips, grabbing a glass of champagne each as we go – as we don't have to drive all the way home tonight.

We munch on the nibbles and sip our champagne, staying silent for the moment. Our attire does attract some funny looks and, especially in my case, the odd whispers and finger pointing. Again, I find my anxiety returning and have to force myself to keep calm. Caitlin notices this and squeezes my hand, giving me a reassuring smile. Our eyes are locked and the noise around us seems to fade.

"You're trespassing. This is a private party and you, were most certainly NOT invited."

We break our gaze to turn to Veer. He's seething – though is trying his very best to remain calm.

"The only way you'll get rid of us, Sir Veer, is if you talk to us." Caitlin smiles as politely as she can as she scans the curious faces that have taken an interest in us. "We told you, we're not stopping until we've nipped this little conspiracy in the bud. Capuche."

"Now look here." He seems to be feeling the pressure. He's suddenly become a whole lot redder in the face. If he loses it anymore, they'll be steam coming out of his nostrils. "Nobody is interested in your little lies, so why don't you do us all a favour and piss off. Why don't you go and take a very big jump off of a very tall building."

"Well that's not very polite, is it?" she looks to me. "We've been nothing but polite to you, Sir Veer. I suggest you remember your manners." She slips closer to him to whisper. "Especially in front of your little friends here. You wouldn't want to give them the wrong impression, would you?"

"These people here know the truth. And these people are the only people who matter. So go and take that jump."

"They might matter, Veer. But they won't save you when the truth comes out. And it will, Ernest. Trust me, it will. We'll make sure your shares are carved up and go to something that really matters – like funding for a safer nuclear future perhaps. The building of safer reactors, even maybe to fund the research of liquid fuel reactors. Instead of lining your pockets in off shore tax havens."

"GET OUT!"

He blushes at the gasps of his guests as all eyes are suddenly on us.

"Touched a nerve, Ernest."

She laughs and I shift from foot to foot as more eyes fall on us.

"We know you're calling the shots, Veer. Talk to us and it won't be so bad for you. This is your last chance."

He laughs hysterically and steps right up to us to whisper. "Go on then, do your best. Even if you catch me out, the British justice system is all for the criminal. I'll get a nice comfy cell, luxury, while you lot will still have to sweat and bleed to make ends meet."

Caitlin laughs. "Who said anything about sending you to prison? What makes you think we can't just make you disappear? And believe me, Veer, we can make it look like a very nasty accident. An eye for an eye – like you ordered the death of my friend, Andrew Tate."

"I want you both to leave, right now."

"No. No, I think we'll stay a while. Right Harry?"

"Absolutely."

Now he's really showing his anger. He steps right up to Caitlin, right in her face and grabs her by the scruff of her neck, ignoring the gasps of the stunned and outraged onlookers. He yanks her head back to glare into her eyes. His eyes are full of rage, pure rage. He looks like a wild animal, frothing at the mouth like a rabid dog, like the devil himself. I attempt to intervene and receive a slap across my face for my trouble, a slap that knocks me backwards but fails to knock me to the ground. He doesn't afford me a second glance, instead slipping both hands around Caitlin's neck in an attempt to squeeze the life out of her. Only the screams of the crowd make him stop. He looks about him, suddenly aware and swallows hard, releasing Caitlin. Her composure is like nothing I've ever seen. She's as calm as ever. Didn't even flinch or struggle in his grip. That sly smirk, the same smirk she wears now, never left her lips for even a second.

"Easy, Ernest. You're losing it."

We back away from him, grabbing another glass of champagne, and merge into the crowd. There's nothing Veer can do about us being here and he knows it – especially after his little outburst.
"He's defiantly feeling the pressure."

"How's your neck?"

"Sore, but I'll live. How's your face?"

"It feels fine. I don't think he's broke my jaw."

Caitlin throws herself down onto the sofa in our hotel suit and yawns as she stretches. I stand, shifting from foot to foot. This is awkward – only one bed. I can't deny that there's been a tension between us tonight - that same sexual tension that we felt when we first met. I close my eyes to push out those thoughts and rub my forehead.

"Caitlin...."

She's read my mind. "You take the bed, I'll sleep here."

I look to the floor and nod. I feel like I want to say something, but something stops me. i just can't form the words. I clear my throat and set off towards the bedroom.

"Harry...." She waits for me to come back into view before looking up at me. "You looked beautiful tonight," she laughs. "You always look beautiful to me. I just didn't, don't, know how to tell you."

I swallow very hard and turn away, intending to lock myself in that bedroom. I don't want an argument tonight. But it seems she's determined to say what she apparently needs to.

"Harry, I meant what I said. I fell in love with you, every part of you. I'm not good with words. I never know how to say these things. I try but...."

"Caitlin, I can't love someone who won't...."

"I know you're dying and that there's nothing.... I do. But when you love someone, how I love you, you don't want to believe that you're going to lose them. It hurts too much to ever think.... But it hurts not being with you."

"And what about what I want? What I intend to do when my death finally arrives – can you accept that too?"

She remains silent and looks away. I shake my head and swallow the tears.

"No. How can I love someone, who wants to tell me what I can and can't do with my own body, my life? I am so sick, of people trying to run my life for me, of...."

I look into her eyes and can't finish my sentence. I hold up my hands and back away into the bedroom, slamming the door behind me.

There's a knock at my door. It's only been about an hour since our.... conversation. Caitlin doesn't wait for me to answer - she enters, coming to sit beside me on the bed. I can't look at her. My eyes remain firmly fixed on the ceiling.

"Harry.... I want to believe that this is some nightmare, that it'll all be ok...."

"It isn't and it won't."

"I know...! I don't want to give up on you, because I love you. If I accept what you want.... it feels like I'd be giving up on you. And I'm the one who has said all along, that we shouldn't give up on you."

An awkward silence descends between us and it seems to last forever, but eventually, Caitlin reaches out and takes my hand.

"If it's what you really want, and you are absolutely sure.... then I accept your decision. It's killing me, but I accept it, because you're right, as usual. It's your life, your death. No one has the right to dictate, to choose for you. It will break my heart but...."

I don't let her finish. I thrust my lips onto hers, pulling her into an embrace. As our lips part slightly, while we share breath, I whisper to her.

"I'm glad you didn't give up on me.... when so many had."

And there it is again - that sexual tension. So overpowering and intoxicating, so hard to resist. The way she looks at me, I'm certain she feels it too. She grips my hand tighter and runs her free hand beneath my shirt. I don't stop her, I know I probably should, but I don't want to. In fact, I pull her down on top of me, my lips desperate for hers. We tear at each other's clothing as we roll onto the floor laughing, entwined with each other. She looks down into my eyes, suddenly serious, after a brief moment. There are no words. She pulls back, pulling me to my feet. Our eyes never part as we stand close, sharing breath. And then she kisses me, and I'm lost. Hers once more.

We lie naked on the bed, moist with sweat, breathless, lost in each other. Her touch, her kisses, her movements are so delicate but so precise. We move together in perfect harmony. We seem to be tireless, and nothing seems to matter anymore. There's nothing, only me and her in this sweet moment, this moment of complete bliss.

I lie in her arms, once we finally fall into exhaustion. I cling to her body like never before. And she holds me like never before. She kisses my forehead as we stares into each other's eyes. Again, there are no words. Even as the sun breaks, its rays warming our skin, we are silent. Lost in the moment, knowing it can't last. Knowing that, all too soon, it's back to reality.

We drive back to base in complete silence - the full journey. Neither of us knows what to say. We are speechless.

"Veer is certainly feeling the heat." Caitlin briefs as she sits, throwing her legs up onto the table.

I remain silent. I can't look Dale in the eye. Quite a triangle – Dale or Caitlin.

"Yes," Oakley sighs, "We saw you on the news."

Caitlin bursts into laughter. Oakley isn't so amused.

"We've been receiving calls all morning – angry calls from very angry ministers who happen to be close friends with Veer."

"It's proof he's feeling the strain. Also proof that he is involved – right up to his neck. Otherwise why react like that?"

"They're saying you provoked him."

I scoff. "He didn't take much provoking, Oscar. Like she said, if he's innocent, why lash out like that? And so quickly too?"

Caitlin chuckles. "Look of course they're going to defend him. He's the one who's lining their pockets, swelling their coffers. They could all be involved in this."

"Well of course they are." I look at each of them. "If not directly, then indirectly. By not asking where the money comes from, by turning blind eyes. In one way or another we're all guilty. None of us bother to ask the awkward questions, we all accept what these politicians tell us. Why? Because it's easier, there's no fight involved, no truth. That's typical of the world we live in today."

Caitlin raises an eyebrow. "She's right, Oscar. We always knew we'd be swimming against the tide. That we'd need strong stomachs and strong minds to get through it."

"He could have seriously hurt you, both of you."

I shrug. "That's nothing new, is it?"

Oakley looks from me to Caitlin before shaking his head and sighing. "From now on, when you leave the safety of these grounds, you each carry a sidearm."

As we head for the door, he calls us back.

"It's good to see you two have sorted things out."

Caitlin and I exchange a glance and I'm the first to break it. I look back at Dale and Oakley, give a faint smile and disappear out the door.

"Harry." Caitlin stops me on the stairs, clutching both my hands in hers. "I guess we should talk about last night."

"I need a shower."

I am so confused right now.

"I pushed you into his arms, I understand that. But I want you back in mine. Despite everything.... I want you, Harry. And I will do anything to get you back. But I don't want to hurt you so.... it's your choice. I won't push you. If you'd rather I let you go.... Because this is my fault, isn't it? My stubborn, stupid...."

I stop her midsentence by planting a kiss on her lips, a kiss she answers with her own.

"My head is killing me." I whisper. "I really need a shower and some sleep."

I turn and continue to my room. What do I do? Who do I choose?

"You two have got to see this on the news."

Dale bursts through the door of study where myself and Caitlin are sat reading some stuff on the internet. He's closely followed by Oakley who switches on the TV before perching himself on the desk. We watch the broadcast, a speech being given by Prime Minister Sutton-Smyth.

"Ernest Veer has my full support and the support of my cabinet. These accusations are based only on circumstantial evidence – evidence which myself and my cabinet have not been made privy to. His outburst the other evening was completely out of character, and I strongly believe was down to the stress, which The Sellafield One Taskforce has unfairly placed upon him. My own commission has found no evidence whatsoever that shows any form of conspiracy in the nuclear industry. There has been no cover ups, no lies and no backhanders as the taskforce are saying. Ernest Veer is a close and valued friend, and has been for many years. He has given this country prosperity, jobs and hope. We are all indebted to him. I have recommended that he take a short break to recover from the stress, and have insisted that The Sellafield One Taskforce are presented with a restraining order, preventing them from further harassing Sir Veer. They will face prosecution if they ignore this order."

"I've heard enough."

Oscar switches off the TV and slumps down into a chair, his hand across his mouth.

"Can they do that?" I ask. "Put a restraining order on us? Prosecute us if we ignore it?"

"Well...." Caitlin starts.

"They can try." Oakley looks up at us. "We have the higher authority and they know it. They're trying to scare us. They might be able to have us arrested, lock us in a cell for the night, but they can't prosecute in court. Our evidence may be circumstantial, but it is proof of something going on in the industry and beyond. It warrants further investigation."

Caitlin nods. "There's no smoke without fire."

"Exactly. We stay calm, and carry on."

I bite my lip. "He didn't say anything about Lucas."

"Well, Chester's a lost cause, isn't he? As far as they're concerned, the only one who matters is Ernest Veer – the man with the money."

"He's being made a scapegoat – always has been. That's why there's been such a dramatic change in his character lately – they're using him but he is still at their mercy. So maybe I can use that. If he thinks he's been abandoned, that he has nothing to lose because he's already lost it, we might be able to.... tempt him to our side – if we can guarantee his protection, and that of his family."

Oakley thinks on my words. "Go and see him again, at home. He's sure to have seen the broadcast. But take Caitlin with you, just in case."

We pull up outside his home and get out of the car. We've already agreed Caitlin will stay in the car, keeping watch. I stroll up to his front door and knock. His expression is hard to read. He looks like a broken man. His clothing is dishevelled, he's unshaven and, by the looks of it, hasn't slept in a while. He allows me entry without even saying a word. He leads me into his front room.

"Coffee? Tea?"

I hesitate. I'm not really thirsty, but then again. "Coffee, please."

"Make yourself at home."

When he returns with the coffee, I sip mine. We don't speak for the first few minutes.

"Lucas, you know why I'm here."

"Harry.... I can't help you. Please, stop this. Before you get yourself killed. He'll do it, have you killed. He tried before. Tried to have you run down in a hit and run."

I swallow hard at those words and stare at him. I blink, trying to clear my head.

"Who? Ernest Veer?"

"You all need to stop. It's useless."

"I take you'll have seen the PM's little speech? About us and Veer?"

He smiles faintly and nods, taking a large gulp of his coffee.

"No mention of you, was there, Lucas? It looks like you're on your own. They've thrown you to the mercy of the wolves, so why keep this us? Why don't you come and join us? We can make this right, Lucas? We can make your family and your people, your constituents, proud of you again."

"No. No, it's too late for me. Veer has me right where he wants me, as usual."

"It doesn't have to be like that." I sigh and look away for a moment. "I was ready to give up on myself - everyone else had. But then this taskforce, they gave me a purpose again. Something to live for, something to be proud of. No matter how many restraining orders Veer takes out on us we can't be touched. Our evidence is proof that there is something big going on, something illegal. And we will get to the bottom of it, one way or another. Help us, and we can help you."

He closes his eyes and shakes his head.

"They've abandoned you, Lucas. We haven't. I'm here, aren't I? Despite everything. I'm not giving up on you and neither is The Sellafield One Taskforce." I place my cup down and stand. "You can call me, day or night. Think about it. Keep this up and fall, ruin everything. Or stand with us, be counted, and change things for the better. Your choice."

Before I can leave, he calls me back.

"Harry.... I truly am sorry.... for everything we, I, put you through."

I sigh and look away. After a brief moments thought, I look him right in the eye.

"I forgive you."

He half laughs. "You forgive me, just like that."

"Yes. Because I am better than you." I go to leave but something makes me turn back to him. "I dare you to prove me wrong on that."

It just goes to show, you really can't judge a book by its cover.

"Ernest Veer is back in town." Oakley announces as he strides into the dining room. "So, business as usual."

"Is this where we get ourselves arrested?" I ask.

"Probably. But Sir Carter Anderson will no doubt, come up trumps for us."

"Me and Caitlin?"

"No. We're all going. If we're going to be facing arrest, we do it together."

EIGHTEEN: ANY MEANS NECESSARY

We're on our way to intercept Veer, he's on his way to a charity lunch. There's a good chance that we're going to get ourselves arrested. But to me, that just proves his guilt. He's panicking that we're close to exposing the truth, and he is prepared to try anything and everything in his power to stop us.

We've arrived before him, as planned. He's clearly expecting us, there's a high police presence, so we'll wait out of view for now. We all take a deep breath of.... anxiety as his car pulls up outside the restaurant. As he steps out of his car, we step out of ours. We cross the street together, in perfect step with each other. He spots us immediately but doesn't look as worried – not with his uniformed bodyguards and restraining order.

"You have orders to stay away from me."

He smiles like a fox that's caught its prey fast asleep out in the open.

"Stay away from you? Why would we possibly want to do that? You're such a charmer to be around. We're big fans." Caitlin mocks him. She winks at him and laughs.

"We don't end this until we get the truth." Oakley steps between them removing his sunglasses. "This would all be a lot easier if you just cooperated, Sir."

Veer laughs. "I don't have to cooperate. You on the other hand, are about to be arrested. I strongly suggest you take heed my friends, because I have powerful friends - friends who will stop at nothing to protect me."

As a gang of police officers descend on us, Oakley motions for us to make no fuss before looking Veer dead in the eye.

"This isn't over, Veer, far from it. You can have us arrested as many times as you want – frankly I think that's a waste of police resources – we don't back down, ever. We also have powerful friends, more powerful than yours. You've been warned, Sir Veer. Your time is coming."

That's got him a little shaken. He swallows hard before looking right at me.

"They promised you a life, did they? A better life, something to live for? But tell me, do they flinch when they look at you? Do they accept what's going to happen to you, do they accept your wishes without a fight?" I look away and swallow hard. I know that creepy smile is back on his lips. "You could have been someone, Miss Jenkins. I could have given you everything you've ever wanted. You've chosen the wrong side."

"You're wrong, Ernest. You can't give me back my parents." I scoff. "These people, they've given me a home, family. Something a man like you wouldn't understand"

"You'd be surprised."

It's taking me all my strength to keep my rage in check. He's deliberately trying to make me angry, to force me to show the rage. I'm better than that. "You took them from me, men like you! Your lies, your ignorance, your blatant disregard for.... human life, safety. Their deaths are on you, and I'm going to prove it. Even if it kills me." I look back at the others. Again I see that.... surprise in their eyes. They're still shocked by how.... grown up I've become. "These people, they are the only ones who haven't given up on me."

Veer looks away to the officers. "Get them out of here."

As two officers grab my arms and attempt to pull me away, I call out. "I mean it, Veer! I'm not going to stop! I'm going to show you for what you really are! A liar and a murderer!"

We're pulled away by the police officers and loaded into the back of their van. None of us speak. We knew this would happen, we're prepared.

In custody, we follow the plan to the letter. Name, address and date of birth, nothing more, nothing less. We let Oakley do the talking.

"You can contact Sir Carter Anderson of the International Atomic Energy Agency. This taskforce is a legitimate operational unit, as is our investigation. Given the nature and seriousness of our investigation, myself and my team refuse to comment further."

The desk sergeant is clearly thrown. He scratches his chin as he confers with his colleagues. We're lead away to the cells without further comment.

Of course we were released without charge – as we knew we would. The taskforce is of the highest authority – to an extent anyway. I suspect though, that won't be the last time we see the inside of a police custody suite. It's the police I feel sorry for. They have to arrest us because of Veer but then have to release us without charge – they're caught in the middle of a vicious circle. And Oakley was right, it is a waste of valuable police resources.

"You never answered my question."

I turn to see Dale standing in the doorway with his arms folded.

"What are we doing, Harry?"

I swallow hard and turn away from him.

"Your heart still belongs to her, doesn't it?"

"She loves me, Dale."

"Loves you? She couldn't accept that you're dying. She won't accept your decision."

"She has. She loves me...."

"I could love you, Harry."

I bite my lip. "I think.... I love her. Dale, I was upset and you were there. You were supportive and you listened. I think.... I used you, because I think I needed to. I'm sorry."

He's silent for a long time. He can't even look at me.

"It's ok. If that's what you want, then I'm happy for you. But just remember who broke your heart." He strides to the door but hesitates. "Harry, if she ever breaks your heart again, I'll be here. If you want."

I wait for his footsteps to fade before letting out the breath I was holding. I hope I've made the right decision.

"Did you mean it?" I close her door behind me. "What you said in that hotel room?"

She stares at me and nods.

"Even though it's going to leave you broken hearted?"

She licks her lips as she thinks. "Being without you, is breaking my heart."

I don't say another word. I jump into her arms, my lips firmly on hers.

Once again we confront Veer, and once again we find ourselves in a custody suite. Six times now, but we're not giving in. Every day, everywhere he goes, we're there. I think the officers are getting used to us now, they know the drill off by heart. A couple of hours in a cell and we're released. And the process starts all over again. And Veer is starting to crack under the strain. He's got a new court order against us, three in fact, he's even tried to turn the press against us – and failed. Meanwhile the awkward questions keep heading his way – despite the Prime Minister's support and that of his cabinet. Veer's meetings are considerably shorter than they used to be and he's missed a few important diners with his shareholders. He's become even shorter tempered and prone to violent outbursts, extremely violent outbursts – broke the jaw of an innocent photographer yesterday. He thought he was taking pictures of him - he made a right show of himself. I haven't seen Chester in a while. I think maybe we've pushed him too far. He's not like Veer and he's defiantly not running the show. If he would just talk to us, to me even, we might be able to help him. He seemed genuinely.... terrified. He was adamant that his life would be in serious danger if he talked to us, that we wouldn't be able to protect him. Why does Veer have such a hold over him? It can't just be because of his alcohol and sex addiction. There must be something else. Something bigger, something.... I don't know. But I want to.... I'm going to find out.

"Take a break, Harry." Caitlin pulls me back to her and kisses the nape of my neck, snatching my shirt from my hands. "Veer is out of the country for the next three days, enjoy it while it lasts."

"I want to talk to Lucas again. He's close to joining us, I know it."

"Harry, this is the man who used you to cover up. You couldn't even grieve because of him."

"I forgave him."

She laughs. "You what?"

"I'm better than him, Caitlin. We have to be better than them." I close my eyes and sigh. "Besides we need him."

I look back at her and kiss her. She answers my kiss with her own before resting her chin on my shoulder.

"Give me ten minutes, I'll go with you."

Before we're out the front door, Oakley calls out to us and orders us into the study. He waits for us to enter before closing the door and sitting on the desk.

"We were just on our way to see Chester again. We...." I start.

"Good. Because I've just had some news."

Caitlin and I swap glances as we wait for him to continue.

"Lucas Chester has just had his Knighthood taken from him. Sir Carter tells me that Prime Minister Sutton-Smyth has also demanded his resignation within the next forty eight hours. It's seems they're making him the scapegoat."

"Sacrificing Lucas Chester to save Ernest Veer." I scoff. "Why I am not surprised."

"Go to see him as planned. Use this information - remind him of who his real friends are."

He let us in without an argument. Again, he's dishevelled, unshaven, tired. He makes us coffee in silence and for a while, we sit together in silence. I'm trying a different approach - Caitlin's following my lead, thankfully. He forces a faux smile – it doesn't last long.

"I take it you've heard the news, you wouldn't be here otherwise."

"How are the family?"

He smiles, again only very briefly. "Well they.... she wants a divorce. Said she can't stay married to a liar, to someone who.... She said she loved me, not the money."

"I'm sorry."

He smiles faintly, forcing back his tears and failing miserably. "You know, if I could turn back time, I would.... I would have walked away. I wouldn't have got myself involved in all of this."

I sit forward. "In what, Lucas?"

"I can't."

"We know Veer's calling the shots, pulling your strings. Why does he have such a hold over you, still? What do you owe him, Lucas? Look around you – your world is falling apart. You're the scapegoat so that Veer walks free. What do you owe him?"

"Everything. A couple of years ago.... I was falling. My career was pretty much over, bankrupt. Then Veer stepped in for me, on my behalf. Said his father owed my father so.... But I got greedy, wanted more and more."

"Money. Why is it always about money?" I try my best to sound sympathetic.

"It's a cancer, a sickness. But it's addictive. It intoxicates, and once it has a hold over you – like every addiction – it's hard to let it go. But it's not just about money – not with Veer. It's about blood, family. His father, my father, me and him – a blood pact. Conning the system, ruling the world. He's a mad man. If he finds out I've told you this, he won't just kill me. He'll kill my family too."

"The bastard." Caitlin mutters.

I take a breath and think very hard about he's just said. "Ok. Lucas, you need to tell us everything."

"I've told you too much already. They might have thrown me to the wolves, but he still owns me."

"Owns you? Lucas, nobody owns you. You're your own man."

"He'll kill my family. Besides, you're wasting your time with me – I'm useless, pointless."

"You're wrong, Lucas. You, your testimony, could bring him down, for good. We can protect you and your family. I promise you. Lucas, we can bring him down with your help. We can end all this – you'll be a hero."

He smiles, but it's a.... sad smile. If that makes sense.

"You can't even protect yourselves. He always wins, in the end."

Caitlin sits forward. "What do you mean by that?"

"You think it's coincidence that he's out of the country for the next three days? Really? It's an alibi. Three days, and you will all be dead. That's the plan."

I look at Caitlin and she looks at me.

"You should go now. Run, as far and as fast as you can, if you have any sense. Get out of the country, disappear. Live what life you have left, while you still can."

"We don't run away, Lucas."

He seems to have ignored Caitlin's comment.

"They're watching my home. They'll know you're here. They'll probably wait until you're back on the road. Just like Oscar Oakley's family."

Again we exchange glances. A cold shiver has just run right through me.

"Court order, the police, everything legal hasn't worked, hasn't stopped you, has it? You should go. Go, before their orders come through."

Caitlin stands and motions to me that it's time to go. I stand and grip his shoulder.

"They'll fail, Lucas. That I can promise. They've tried to kill us before, and failed. You have my number. I dare you to be the better man."

As I walk out the door, he calls me back.

"Harry...." He just stares at me, his mouth hanging open.

I squat in front of him to look him in the eye.

"He's building a new one. A new nuclear plant. You should see the plans, every corner cut to the bone."

I grip his hands tight. "Ok, we can deal with that. Just tell me everything you know."

He rocks back and forth, struggling through the tears that now flow freely down his face.

"Harry, we should move. If they really are watching him, they could have guys already on the way."

"One minute! Lucas, come with us, right now."

"I can't. I'm sorry, I.... I can't."

"Harry, we're compromised!"

"One second! Lucas, give us a location. This plant – where is it?"

"I'm sorry. Go. Get out of here, while you still can."

Caitlin runs over to me and pulls me to my feet. He can't look at me as Caitlin all but drags me out. I protest but she's having none of it.

"We are not staying when there's a risk that we are compromised. The taskforce is already two members down."

"And what about Lucas?"

"He'll be fine, he's Ernest Veer's pet isn't he."

Well we made it back in one piece. But we did see a suspicious vehicle outside of Chester's. The occupants appeared to be keeping a watch on his home. But then, they could have been innocent bystanders, a coincidence. He wants to open up, he's desperate to. I need to convince him that it's the right thing. That we can protect him and his family. What's the best way to control someone? Use their family.

"We're getting out of here." Caitlin takes my hand and pulls me to my feet. "Just you and me, we're taking a break. I don't know about you, but I'm going crazy sitting here thinking about what Chester said the other day."

"I agree."

"I know we're in the middle of.... what?"

"All I've thought about for the past.... gods knows how many hours, was that conversation, everything that's happened, and I need to...."

"Clear your head. You said he was breaking, I didn't think he'd be like that. He really is terrified. You were right, that was not an act. I know we got it wrong about Alison but...."

"He wants to talk. We need to convince him that we can protect him and his family."

"The thing is, I'm not sure we can. Veer has come.... so close, to killing us before. We have our hands full trying to keep ourselves alive. Him, maybe, but his family...."

We haven't gone far, just for a walk across the fields. It is a beautiful day. We walk hand in hand and why not, the area's deserted. It's just fields and woodland surrounding the mansion. Our attention soon turns from work to each other and before we know it, we're well out of sight of the mansion, maybe a few miles. We lay out in the grass on the other side of the woods, close to each other – so close our bodies touch.

"Caitlin, me and Dale...."

"Don't. I understand. I pushed you away, into his arms and I was a fool. I don't intend to let you slip away again."

She smiles and we both laugh. It feels good to laugh again – with everything that's happened recently. She holds my gaze, a cheeky smile creeping onto her lips.

"So who was better – him or me? In bed?"

I laugh. "You cannot ask me that."

"Why not? Come on, who's the better lover?"

"I'm not doing this, Caitlin. I'm not."

We laugh together.

"Ok, I'll drop it. I bet I'm the better lover though."

As I shake my head, laughing, she pounces on me, pinning me to the ground. We roll in the grass laughing, teasing each other, embracing each other. But there are storm clouds on the horizon.

We feel like we could stay here all day, but know we can't. So as the air turns cold and those storm clouds creep closer, we help each other to our feet and set off back the way we came through the woods. We make sure we stay close, our hands clasped tight so as not to lose one another.

"This brings back memories." I mutter.

She looks at me and smiles. "Except this time no one's trying to kill us."

We're about half way through the woods when Caitlin stops dead in her tracks. I go to speak but she covers my mouth with her hand and motions for me to be quiet.

"I thought I could hear footsteps following us," she whispers.

"Don't be daft \- we're in the middle of nowhere. Who would be...."

"Shh, quiet."

"I don't hear anything. It's your imagination, playing tricks."

Again she puts a finger to my lips. Now I hear it too – footsteps slightly behind us, to our right maybe. I can hear the leaves rustling. Remembering Chester's warning, I swallow hard. With everything else going round in our heads, his warning had slipped completely out of our minds – mine certainly.

"Could it be an animal?"

She shakes her head. "The footsteps are too heavy."

"Maybe Lucas was right."

She leans in close to whisper in my ear, slipping her arms around me to make it look like we're locked in a lovers embrace.

"When I say run, you run like hell. And don't stop, no matter what."

She kisses my neck and then my lips. Her hands are on the pistol I have tucked inside my jacket. I follow her lead, taking her weapon from her pocket. We hold our position for a moment, sharing breath as our lips part.

"One, two...."

I don't think about it, I just kiss her. And I hold that kiss, for as long as possible, before looking into her eyes, both of us breathless. Adrenaline is pumping through me like a speeding runaway train as she runs her fingers over my skin one last time.

It happens in slow motion almost. We run, so hard and so fast. My heart pounds beneath my chest. My breathing is deep and heavy. She told me not to stop and not to look back. But I can't help it as multiple shots echo. It's only now I realise that Caitlin isn't beside me. She's behind me, taking cover behind a fallen tree, firing into the wilderness at nothing it seems. Except it's not nothing, nothing wouldn't fire back. I stop. I look ahead, I can see the tree line and the field just beyond, but look back to Caitlin and curse. I'm not leaving her behind again. I gip the weapon in my hands tighter and fire off several shots as I make my way back to her. Bullets ricochet around me, sending tree fragments flying as they slam into the wood. Caitlin glares at me as I drop to her side.

"I told you not to stop!"

"I am not leaving you!"

She continues to glare at me and I return it with my own. Until everything falls silent. We daren't peer out from our cover.

"How many of them are there?" I whisper.

She shakes her head, she doesn't know. How could she? We can't see them, but we can hear them. Their footsteps rustle the leaves, snap twigs.

"Stay close to me and don't waste any more ammo. Only fire if you get a clear shot at a target."

We take a deep breath and bolt from our position together. As soon as we do, the gunfire starts again, the bullets missing us by mere inches. We don't stop, we keeping running, together. We don't get very far before we're forced to take cover again. They've got us pinned, trapped like mice. We both curse.

"We need to send out an SOS."

Caitlin looks at me then scans the area about her.

"How far do you think we are from the mansion?"

"I don't know, why?"

"We're not close enough for them to hear the shots, but maybe they'd come running if they see smoke."

She squats, pulling out a lighter. She takes the flame to the undergrowth but it's not catching.

"The ground's too wet."

"Just give me a minute."

"Caitlin they're coming."

"Hold on."

She curses as she tries everything she can to get the flame to take hold and eventually, her patience pays off. One flame spreads and soon turns into something that won't be easily put out. Terrible for the environment and technically arson I know, but we are desperate, people are trying to kill us. Caitlin grabs my forearm and pulls me back as the flames spread. Now we run, and this time we won't stop. Hopefully the flames will work in our favour, not just brining us help, but also slowing down our pursuers.

As we reach the end of the wood, I lose my footing and slip in the long grass. My ankle hurts bad - I think I've twisted it. Caitlin does her best to try to pull me back up but barked orders from the woods make her drop to ground on top of me. She puts her finger to my lips in an effort to keep me silent. Maybe in the long grass, if we're silent and still, they won't see us. Maybe. There are footsteps on the edge of the wood but they seem reluctant to advance out into open ground. I don't think about it. I find myself fantasising – with Caitlin on top of me like this. I feel a sudden rush of desire, of lust. I want to kiss her, to make love to her right now, right here. She seems to sense the sexual tension as she looks down at me. I run my fingers across her cheek, running my hand through her hair, holding her. She leans down to kiss me....

"We saw smoke, is everything alright?"

His voice doesn't register at first as we hold the moment of staring into each other.

"Harry, Caitlin?"

We look up at the group stood beside us. Oakley looks down at us, worried, curious. Caitlin clears her throat and helps me to my feet.

"We were being chased – assassins. In the woods."

Oakley looks back at the twelve armed men – Carter's men - and orders them into the woods to find our pursuers. It's only now I notice Dale. He looks hurt at seeing myself and Caitlin in that position.

"What were you doing out here alone anyway?" Oakley asks, glaring at us.

"We needed some air."

"Air? Caitlin, you know what we're facing, the danger we're in. How could you be so stupid?"

"Veer is not supposed to know where we are. We were supposed to be safe here, remember." Caitlin puts an arm around me to support me. "Come on, I'll take a look at that ankle."

My phone rings and I answer straight away.

"Lucas." I listen. He wants to meet me, alone. "Ok, calm down. Ok, I'll meet you. Yes, I'll come alone, I promise. One hour, I'll be there."

We meet in a small cafe in the town centre. He's already sat at a table, nursing a black coffee. He's unshaven and dishevelled, and I can smell alcohol on him, even before I get close. He stands as I approach.

"Would you like a coffee or a tea?"

"No, thank you."

"Something cold perhaps – water, lemonade?"

"Lucas."

"Perhaps a strong drink – vodka, whisky?"

"Lucas!"

I hold his gaze before sitting. He looks about him before sitting down close to me. There's a long moment of silence, but I have no intentions of starting this conversation. He called me. He's edgy and keeps looking about him, scrutinising every face that comes and goes.

"I am a good man, or at least I used to be, I want you to know that. I need you to know that. I didn't want this, any of this, but I had no choice."

"Everyone has a choice, Lucas."

He half laughs and mutters under his breath, so quietly I can only just make out what he's says. "My father's debt became my debt." He swallows hard and gulps his coffee down in one.

"Your father's debt? I thought you said his father owed your father?"

"He did, but.... other things happened - it's complicated. Look, these debts are irrelevant. I've thought long and hard about this. And this wasn't an easy decision, because in doing this I'm putting my family at risk. I've past caring what happens to me." He holds my gaze and takes a deep breath. "I want to help you. I'll do it - I'll be an informer for your taskforce. I'll tell you everything that I know. Because I can't live with myself anymore, with what I've done. But understand this, I only help you when I know my family is safe – I don't care about myself but my family...."

I reach out and take his hand in an effort to reassure and, I suppose, to comfort. He's clearly very distressed.

"It's alright, Lucas. We can protect you and your family, I promise. We can have them out of country before nightfall." I clear my throat. "So, are we right - is Ernest Veer calling the shots?"

He nods frantically. "He always has been. It was my job to keep Prime Minister Sutton-Smyth and his cabinet at bay."

"Is Government, the Prime Minister involved?"

"We're all involved, in one way or another. The Prime Minister, Government, they know that something is.... going on. But they don't ask questions. They look the other way, because it gets them the results they want. It's all about profits and results, justifying government policies."

"What do you mean? Lucas?"

"I.... hinted to you before that some incidents weren't...," he leans in closer, "what they seem. That this wasn't all about money. They weren't all accidents, Harry. We needed a reason, to spy on our citizens, to go to war even."

I sit back, shocked by what I think he's suggesting. I swallow the lump in my throat, and it's a hard one to swallow.

"Ok. Ok, we need to go, we can't talk about this here. You're coming back with me. You're going to have to brief us, in depth. We need to know everything you know, in detail, Lucas."

"Not until my family is safe."

"We'll have someone pick them up. I promise, we'll...."

This conversation has.... I find myself struggling for words at the implications of what he's just told me.

"Sir Lucas Chester?"

We both look up. A police officer stands before us.

"That's me. What can I do for you officer?"

"Sir I need you to come with me."

I stand. "Hold on. I'm with The Sellafield One Taskforce, this man is in my custody."

"You don't understand – he's not under arrest. Sir, I'm afraid there has been an accident."

The officer escorts us to the hospital where we're taken to a private room. I'm not letting Lucas out of my sight, not now. We've been told nothing, just that there was an accident, so we sit in silence until a doctor enters.

"Where's my wife, my children? Can I.... can I see them?"

The doctor looks to me and then back to Lucas. I think I know what's coming next.

"Sir, your family sustained major internal injuries. We tried...."

"Where are they? I want to see them."

"I'm very sorry. Your children were declared dead at the scene of the accident. The paramedics tried everything they could to revive them. Your wife sadly died ten minutes after she arrived at the hospital. I'm afraid there was nothing we could...."

"No.... no, no, no..... no."

"As I said, they all sustained major internal...."

"No! You're lying!"

He makes a guttural throat noise as he clasps his hands to his mouth and nose. His breathing has become erratic and he rocks back and forth in the seat. All the doctor and I can do is watch on with sympathy in silence as he begins to weep like a baby. This wasn't an accident. This was a warning shot, from Sir Ernest Veer.

As the doctor leaves I follow her out into the corridor and grab her arm.

"Doctor, I'm with The Sellafield One Taskforce, can I ask how this happened? What were you told had happened?"

"Really you'd have to ask the police."

"They must have told you something. Look, you know of us and our investigation – you must do, we're all over the news. Lucas Chester is a key witness. What happened today could be important to our investigation."

She looks at me and sighs. "We were told that car was going too fast, hit a bend and lost control."

"Had the breaks been cut?"

"I couldn't say – like I said, you'd have to ask the police. Now if you'll excuse me."

I watch her walk away before rejoining Chester. You can imagine how he is, and as I find myself alone with him, I do something I never thought I'd do – I slip my arm around him and cradle him. He sobs into me, his tears soaking through my shirt to my skin and I'm speechless. This is not the Lucas Chester I once knew.

I hold his hand as we stand outside the room where the bodies of his family are being kept. He trembles and his grip is tight. He suddenly looks to me.

"Will you come in with me? Please?"

My throat is so dry, I just nod. We enter slowly, cautiously, expecting.... I don't know. We stand, tall above the bodies. Again he begins to weep and I can't do a dam thing.

"Why? Why them?"

"Lucas, Veer did this. This wasn't an accident. He did this to keep you in his power, at his mercy. Don't let him win."

"You promised you'd protect them."

"I know. I am so sorry, Lucas."

He tears his hand from mine, turning to me in anger.

"You said...!"

He doesn't finish. He breaks down, falling into my arms. And I hold him, I cradle him like a mother cradles a child. We stand like this for what feels like an eternity.

I leave him alone with his family. I stand outside and watch. I don't know what to say, I'm numb. The phone in my pocket rings and it takes a moment for it to register before I answer.

"Yeah, I'm at the hospital with him now. It looks deliberate." I fall silent as I listen to Caitlin's voice. And I find myself comforted, despite the words. "Yeah, I know, I will. We'll be back soon."

With that, I hang up and replace the phone to my pocket. My eyes haven't left Chester for even a second. Even when the footsteps stop beside me, my eyes remain on him. The police officer lets out a deep breath.

"It was a tragic accident."

"We don't believe it was – an accident I mean."

"We?"

"The Sellafield One Taskforce."

"Yeah, the doctor mentioned someone from that taskforce was asking questions. What's your interest?"

"Sir Chester here is helping us with our investigations, he's our key witness."

"And do you have proof – that you are with said taskforce?"

He raises his eyebrows as I glare at him. He swallows hard as I drop my hood and his eyes fall onto my burns. "Proof enough for you."

"You think this was deliberate? Or that it was meant for him?"

I don't answer, I bite my lip. "Did it look to you like they'd been speeding? That they didn't see the bend coming up?"

The officer hesitates but sighs. "In my opinion, no. It's a fifty mile an hour road, good weather conditions and good visibility. I don't see a reason why she missed that bend. The sun wouldn't have even been in her eyes – it was behind her. And we found no evidence of distractions – no mobile phone etcetera."

"She saw the bend alright. I'd bet my life on it."

"You think the breaks had been cut, that this was murder?"

"Yes."

The officer is looking at me, I can feel his eyes burning into the side of my head. He's waiting for me to tell him more, but I won't.

"If you're right, then it's a police matter to be investigated – a murder investigation."

I shake my head. "Sorry, it's a part of our investigation now. And we don't know who we can trust."

"Then you have a suspect?"

"We do." I turn to look the officer in the eye. "But like I said, we don't know who we can trust."

As I go to return to Chester, the officer grips my shoulder.

"You can't suspect foul play in the police, surely? This is a police matter."

"Not anymore."

"But you can't just...."

I pull my arm from his grasp. "Yes, we can."

I leave the officer to stare after me. I've done exactly as Caitlin told me. I put my hand on Lucas's shoulder as he bends over his wife, breaking his heart.

"Lucas, it's time to go. I'm sorry."

"This is my fault. I shouldn't have talked to you."

"Lucas, Veer would have ordered this anyway, at some point. At some point when you became obsolete, an embarrassment. How much longer do you think he was going to remain loyal to you – with your.... addictions? Help us, Lucas. And we will bring him to justice. He'll pay for this, I promise."

"You promised you could protect my family."

"This is a promise I know I can keep. But we'll need your help."

He stands to his full height and turns to face me.

"Do you really think the justice system will give him what he deserves? Do you really think this will even get to court?"

"Who said anything about court or prison?"

"What?"

I smile. "Like Veer, we too have powerful friends, power and authority. Who's to say he won't meet with a very nasty accident. After all, accidents happen all the time, don't they?"

"Why don't you just do it now?"

"Because he'd die a hero. The truth would be...."

"Ignored." He looks into my eyes and I recognise that look – rage. Pure, uncontrolled rage. "Let's get that bastard."

I escort him to the arranged meeting point with the others – one of Caitlin's safe houses. They're already waiting by the time we arrive, a little after midnight.

"Well Sir Chester, we can't wait to hear what you've got for us." Oakley beams.

I clear my throat and pull him aside. Caitlin and Dale follow my lead.

"I think we should wait until morning."

Caitlin nods. "I agree with her. It is late."

"I disagree. Oscar's right we should get straight to business."

I rub my tired eyes. "He's just lost his family. I've just sat in that hospital with him, on my shoulder crying like a baby. Give him a couple hours at least before we start grilling him. And you let me handle him."

Oakley goes to protest but Caitlin comes to my defence. "He wouldn't be here if it wasn't for Harry. He trusts her because he's guilty about the way he treat her."

Oakley wants to protest but decides against it. "Nine o'clock, sharp."

He turns on his heels and storms off, Dale close behind him. Caitlin looks at me and we both look at Lucas. I approach him and squat, gripping his shoulder.

"You should try to get some sleep. I'm sorry, but we'll need to be briefed in the morning. Time is.... short, I'm sure you understand. I'm sorry, Lucas."

"You know what the last thing she said to me was? She said she didn't know me anymore. That I wasn't the man she married. That I was a coward – a greedy, unscrupulous coward."

I don't know what to say.

"She was right. If I had stood up to Veer, a long time ago...."

"Lucas, you're doing the right thing now. I'm sure.... she would be proud of you. If it's right what people say, and she's looking down on you right now, she'll be proud. She'll be saying, that's the man I fell in love with, a good man, doing the right thing. It just took him some time to realise what the right thing was."

"And if there's nothing? She'll have died thinking me a coward. A bad man. And that's why I'm doing this – she looked at me with such.... in a way I'd never seen before. She thought me a.... she was disgusted with me. I love her.... so much."

I look up at Caitlin for some.... inspiration, I suppose, but we are both silent as he sobs. I look to the floor and back to him.

"Lucas, you know she loved you. That she didn't mean...."

"Don't. Don't you dare try to comfort me. After all I've done to you." He stands and wipes his eyes. "Maybe I will try to get some rest."

Caitlin finds me alone in my room, stood at the window. My mind is troubled and I'm unable to shut my brain down to sleep. She slips her arms around me and plants a soft kiss on my cheek.

"Are you ok?"

I shake my head but say nothing. She kisses me again.

"It's funny – I saw that look in his eye. The look I had when we first met, rage. And it got me thinking, me and him, we're not so different after all. He's still human. I didn't know what to say to him. All I could do was stand there and watch as his world fell apart. As he wept in my arms like a child."

"Veer did this and he knows it. He's angry, like you were."

"Will you stay with me tonight?"

She nods and I rest my head on her chest, closing my sore, tired eyes. She cradles me, like I cradled Lucas, just a few short hours ago.

We're sat before Chester as he tells his story. We sit in silence, shocked, disturbed. Those are the only words to describe how we – how I certainly – feel right now.

"There's corner cutting at every opportunity – but you already know that. Again, IAEA recommendations, they're swept away either by myself or by Ernest Veer."

"How does he do that?"

"Backhanders – money, payoffs. Most of the time, during an inspection, the inspector is given cash in hand to.... play down the obvious problems and to turn a blind eye to the less obvious."

"The IAEA know this?"

"Only certain people know. We have a set list of contacts. When an inspection is due, we call one of the names on the list. No questions asked."

Oakley scratches his chin. "You have a set list of trusted names, inspectors in the IAEA, who are on Veer's payroll?"

"Yes. Like I said, there's an inspection due, we call one of these names. Veer gives them a package and they write up a report that says everything is...."

"They give the plant a clean bill of health." I sit forward rubbing my sore eyes. "Let's talk about the corner cutting."

"Well that's easy. Cheaper materials are used, components etcetera. Repairs and replacements are held off to the very last possible moments. And even then, components are replaced with equipment that is degraded, refurbished. Components that will only last.... months maybe, not even. It's all about cutting the cost. Maximum profits."

"But not all the inspections are carried out by.... chosen names from a list?"

"No. But then we just ignore them, make it look like an inspection's never taken place. Change and or fake documentation. Like I said, we make a call. Give the staff cash handouts. The inspection before the accident, I made a call and it was taken care of. The IAEA didn't push, because they never got the original report."

Dale scoffs. "That was Alison's doing, Carter just couldn't prove it."

"You said that not all of the incidents were accidents. That some were.... deliberate."

He smiles faintly and nods. "That is perhaps the worst part about this whole thing. Corner cutting, backhanders, blind eyes, greed – these are nothing new in the world we live in today. But think about the world we live in. Crime, terrorism, there's a lot of bad people out there. But spying on your own citizens with Communication Bills, GCHQ, the war on terror – try justifying it and you're hit with Human Rights Laws, Privacy Laws.... But if a terrorist succeeded in causing some incident, however minor, at a nuclear plant in the United Kingdom, it justifies a war on terror. Justifies segregating a nation. Justifies the spying. Justifies men and women dying on a battlefield thousands of miles away. So the government turned a blind eye to what we were doing. Because it kept them in power, in control. And the people are none the wiser. They believe what they're told, they believe every word."

We all find ourselves speechless, even Oakley.

"Hold on...." Caitlin struggles. "They cause an incident and make it look like we're under attack?"

"How do convince the people, the taxpayer, that bringing in a Communication Bill, which allows the security services to watch every move you make online, listen in to every phone call, is in their best interests? Or that sending troops to face bullets and bomb thousands of miles away is necessary? How do you justify increasing, expanding police anti-terror powers, anti-terror measures? Think about it."

"I am thinking about it."

"There's more. Because of course, it didn't start out by being a justification of government policy. That was said to save our own skins when the government discovered what we were doing." He falls silent for a long time, sipping his glass of water. "Originally, accidents were induced, so that we could monitor the effects on the surrounding population."

Even as he says it I can't believe it. It doesn't sink in.

I lick my dry lips. "What?! Why would you...?"

"Profits, Harry. There's a lot of money to be made out of new drugs. New weapons."

Caitlin looks to me as I shoot her a look of terror. "It's not the first time governments have illegally experimented on their citizens. Didn't the US do a similar thing in the fifties?"

Oakley nods. "And I have it on good authority that the Russians did the same thing during the Cold War. And they're not the only ones – look at where it all started. Germany in the Second World War. The Nazi's carried out all kinds of experimentation on their prisoners."

Lucas continues. "Of course this goes way beyond the UK. You really think that we're the only ones doing it? All we've done is perfect the deception, the techniques."

We're all silent for a long time before Oakley clears his throat.

"Proof, Lucas. We need proof. Your testimony alone isn't enough."

"Veer has the proof, tucked away in his secret little.... bunker."

"A bunker?"

"That's the best way I can describe it. It's inside a warehouse. The warehouse is just a storage unit – pretty basic. But that's just a cover. There's a floor beneath, like a basement type thing. It's all down there. Everything you need to expose the whole affair."

"Where is this warehouse?"

"I don't know."

Caitlin scoffs. "You don't know?"

"I've never actually, physically been there. I've only heard about it?"

"So it might not even exist?"

"It exists. I've seen a.... floor plan of it, in Veer's office."

"We didn't find anything like that."

"He destroyed it. Burned it to a cinder."

"How convenient." Caitlin scoffs again before standing to pace the room.

Lucas shakes his head. "Did you really think that he'd keep all the important stuff in that little vault that you broke in to? Veer's clever. He knew it was only a matter of time before someone broke into his office, and therefore into his vaults. Trust me, it's there and it has all the proof you need. And, this goes way beyond the nuclear industry. There's a culture of cover ups in this country, and the proof is down in that bunker."

After another long, tense moment of silence, Oakley pulls himself up.

"I err.... I think we need a break. Err.... yes, a break. Fresh air.... Let all this sink in."

With that, he unsteadily drags himself from the room. We're all.... dumb struck by what Chester has told us. I mean, we knew about the corner cutting, blind eyes – all for money, profits, greed. I don't think any of us were expecting.... it sounds almost impossible. Unbelievable.

"I need some air."

I rush from the room. I can't process this.

"Harry?"

Caitlin grips my shoulders as I throw up my breakfast. I take several deep breaths to try to calm myself.

"This is.... I mean.... How is this even possible?"

"When money's involved, anything's possible. The men who have the money see to that. Men who have power, money, they'll do anything to keep hold of it."

"Is this real, Caitlin? Is this even happening? Is this some nightmare, some fantasy, a work of fiction?"

"It's real, Harry. Very real."

"Because this no longer feels real, Caitlin. Deliberate accidents to monitor the effects. To justify spying and.... and war and..... bloodshed."

"I know, Harry. I know exactly how you feel."

"You don't look as.... I mean you, you're....."

"I'm trained to expect the unexpected. Believe the.... unbelievable. I'm as gobsmacked as you."

"No one's ever going to believe us."

"They will if Lucas is telling the truth about that bunker."

"Names on a list, the government turning blind eyes – do you really think we're going to win this?"

She takes a deep breath and thinks for a moment, looking out across the landscape. "We always knew we'd be fighting against the odds. We have to try. The people have a right to know the truth, no matter how unbelievable it is."

"This could bring the state to its knees, incite riots, violence."

"Good. They turned their backs, let it go on. They deserve everything they get." I'm shocked by her comment and as she glares at me, she realises what she's said. Her expression softens and she smiles at me. "It'll be ok, Harry. One way or another."

"Do you trust him, trust what he's saying is the truth?"

"Well, what do you think?"

I breathe heavily. My mind is troubled by all this. Do I trust him? I've been wrong before, haven't I? Caitlin smiles at me and pulls me to her.

"I think we have to trust him. He's all we've really got. Besides, when you think about what he's said, really think, it makes sense. I wish it didn't but, look at the world around you, Harry. And it starts to really make sense."

"Yes but.... I was wrong about Alison, wasn't I?"

"Don't doubt yourself, Harry. He has no reason to lie to us now, Veer has taken away everything, murdered his family. He's been hung out to dry."

I'm alone with Chester as we wait for the others to return. There's an awkward atmosphere between us. Silent tears still stream down his face – understandable – and I don't know what to do. I don't know what to say to him. But I feel I should say something, so I clear my throat.

"Lucas...." I start but it's like my throat has swelled up, closed up.

He smiles faintly at me. "You know, Harry, you've been very kind to me. After all I put you through. You are not the same bitter, angry woman I knew. You've grown up."

"I've had to, Lucas."

"You really have forgiven me."

Before I can say anything, the others return and rejoin us at the table. Oakley takes a deep breath and waits for Lucas to wipe his eyes before speaking.

"Lucas, you told Harry and Captain Landon about the building of a new plant?"

"Yes. Veer's personal project. It would be a great asset for this country if it wasn't such a.... book of lies. He's skimped on materials, using outdated equipment, cutting every corner possible just to save a few quid. Just like Windscale, Three Mile Island, Chernobyl – it's a ticking time bomb. This has been built, from scratch, cutting every corner."

As he falls silent we look at each other. This makes our task all the more important, and urgent. I clear my throat as Oakley nudges me.

"We need a location, Lucas."

He laughs. "I know where it is, but you won't get anywhere near it."

"Why not?"

"Mercenaries – Ex-soldiers who know the area well. Veer's not stupid. As soon as you lot started sniffing around, he was straight on the phone to one of his many contacts. Hired guns guard it – out of view, covert – but they're there."

I scoff. "How does someone get away with that? Hired guns? I thought this was the UK not the.... Congo."

"If they were discovered, the contract could never be traced back to Ernest Veer. He has a long list of willing friends, able and ready to take the blame. You think all his bodyguards, his security are off the dole queue? Most of them are ex-cons. Thugs, murderers, hard nuts, you know."

"And the rest?" Caitlin raises an eyebrow.

"Former soldiers – Special Forces mostly."

She sits forward and sighs. "We can worry about them later, just tell us where this plant is situated."

Dale chuckles. "Is this where you tell us he's hidden it in plain sight, slap bang in the middle of a town centre."

I laugh. "How the hell do you hide a nuclear reactor in plain sight? Don't be stupid. I mean, it's not something you could easily miss, is it? What's he going to do, use camouflage?"

"Salisbury Plain." We turn back to Lucas. With all eyes on him, he looks to the floor and swallows hard. "It's sparsely populated, out of the way. And part of the area is used by the army, isn't it? The excuse was security – due to the threat of terrorism. In reality, it's because he knows just how deep it has been cut to the bone, and he doesn't want to draw attention."

I half laugh. Did I just hear him right? "Salisbury Plain? Are you serious?"

"Very serious. At this stage it's only an, to quote the government's stance, experimental exercise."

Oakley scratches his chin. "Tell us about the reactor unit."

"There's only one reactor on site. Just a square, grey building. Closed system, no cooling towers. PWR – pressured water reactor. Light water I think, but I can't be certain."

"He's put it well out of the way – there must be another reason why."

Caitlin scratches her head. "Almost half of the Plain is used by the army, and we don't know far the corruption goes."

Lucas shakes his head and shrugs his shoulders. "I don't know. But like I said, he realises what he's done, which means he also realises that that could be his downfall. His name is all over this project. The chances of the flaws being discovered out there are slim, and if there was an accident...."

"No one would ever know." I finish. "It doesn't make sense. Why put his name on this? Why get so personally involved?"

"I don't know. He said something about his father." Lucas scans me and half heartedly smiles. "You want everything to make sense, but it doesn't always work like that, Harry. Things happen that don't make sense and never do. Some things remain a mystery. Some conundrums are never solved. That's life for you."

I stare at him and he holds my gaze. I don't like it – things not making sense. There must be another reason why Veer's built it on Salisbury Plain – that is, if Lucas is telling us the truth. I stand without another word and march from the room. All of this sounds impossible. But then, when I think about it, and the longer I think about, the more it does start to make sense – looking around at the world, know how it works. And that terrifies me. Because we are supposed to be civilized.... free.

NINETEEN: A TAKEOVER

"I guess you all know what's coming next. We're going to Salisbury Plain, to pay Veer's pet project a little visit."

We're all sat before Oakley, including Lucas. Even as he says it Lucas is on his feet ready to protest.

"No. No, that is not a good idea. Ok. Veer is a dangerous man - you know that, you know what he's capable of. Why would you even consider this?"

"It's our job, Sir Chester."

"I'm not a Sir anymore, remember?"

Oakley breaks eye contact for a brief moment. "Veer and his little friends don't scare us, Lucas, and they are certainly not going to stop us. It's the easiest thing to do at this point – without the location of Veer's storage unit. We get inside, get the proof that he's cut corners – photographs, documentation - he can't deny it when we confront him because his name is all over it."

"You won't get within a mile of that site, I can guarantee it. You haven't seen these guys - you do not want to mess with them. Weren't you paying attention earlier? Half of them are killers and the rest are former Special Forces."

Oakley ignores his comment. "We are heading to Salisbury Plain, and that is final. This is the break we've been looking for – short of getting into this warehouse you mentioned. I have faith in Captain Landon and her training."

"I am a professional, Lucas. I've carried out countless successful infiltration exercises throughout my career, I know what I'm doing. This is a fairly standard op as far as I'm concerned."

Lucas relents and slumps back down into his seat. He's a broken man. And there's that look again – pure, uncontrolled rage, begging to be released.

"Fine. On one condition."

"Oh?"

He flashes a dangerous look, like a man on the brink of losing control. "Veer is mine. He murdered my family. I want him. The courts in this country won't do me justice. But a gun will."

The others might be surprised by this.... outburst, but I'm not. I know exactly how he feels. I felt that way myself, once. It's so easy to give in to it – the rage. It's so easy to lash out. But you're the only one who really ends up hurting. Oakley's comment shocks me though.

"When we're done, Lucas, you can do with Ernest Veer, whatever you like. The man is poison, just like his father."

Lucas looks up at him. "His father had your family killed."

"And now his son has had your family killed."

I guess Oakley's still hooked on revenge too. So I guess the alcohol doesn't numb the pain as much as he'd like it to.

"You know, I still don't like this." I scratch my head. "Why do this? Why put your name to this project, when you know you're being investigated?"

Chester shakes his head. "He started this project well before you lot started poking around in his affairs."

"What is so special about this plant? It doesn't make sense."

"Like I said, not everything in life makes sense – sometimes things never do. Sometimes things just happen, for no logical reason why. That's life, Harry."

"I'm not comfortable with this. I don't like things not making sense."

Dale stands and paces. "Of course it makes sense, Harry. More reactors mean more money in his arse pocket. He's built it way out there so that he can get away with cutting every corner possible, and if nobody knows about it, nobody is going to worry about it. If an accident happens it doesn't matter, because no one will ever know. It's the way the industry's going. That's why we're here now. And he can justify not revealing the location, because of security, the threat of terrorism. He is trying to pioneer the way forward, to building these things in sparsely populated areas. Because then, then they can cut as many corners as they want. Low cost, sky high profits."

We're staying in a nice, quiet little hotel surrounded by the moor – nice place but we're not really concerned with the scenery. Our heads are well and truly in the game as it were. Apart from just a few residents, ramblers mostly, we've got the hotel to ourselves, which should make our lives easier – no interference from prying eyes and ears.

"So, first thing in the morning we'll head onto the plain, scout the immediate area thoroughly. We don't want to risk a confrontation at this point, so we need to be as covert as possible. Try to make yourselves look like ramblers, out for a nice innocent trek across the moors. We'll head out just before dawn, so I suggest we all get to bed early. We'll meet at the vehicle at say...." Caitlin looks at her watch. "Five o'clock?"

Caitlin's leading this part or the operation because of her military training and experience. We're all putting our faith in her survival skills, not to mention map reading skills. We all mutter our agreement before dispersing to our rooms.

I've just closed my eyes and there's a knock at my door. I curse under my breath and drag myself from the bed to answer. Lucas is stood before me, wringing his hands. I wait for an explanation as to why he's at my door at this time of the night.

"I need to talk to you. Can I come in?"

I let out a tired sigh but his pleading eyes win me over. He waits for me to close the door before speaking again.

"This has to stop, Harry - Veer and his games. That's all this is to him – a game. I have a plan to bring him down, to expose this to the citizens of the UK, and the world. We can use his plant, here on Salisbury Plain."

"Lucas...."

"We could take it over – all of us. Bring the press in, show them. Show them what he's done."

"That's not the way we work, Lucas."

"But your way hasn't worked so far has it? We need to be radical, extreme times call for extreme measures."

I sigh again and run my hand through my hair. "We'd be the bad guys – accused of.... terrorism or something."

"So what are doing here then, Harry?! What, we're just going to sit on this, take photographs of a grey containment building that proves nothing?"

"You heard Caitlin earlier – we infiltrate, spy.... whatever she calls it. She's done this before, Lucas, she Military Intelligence."

"It's bollocks. Infiltration of a top secret nuclear plant – we'll be the ones in the dock, Harry. Veer will prosecute, and he'll win. Then we'll disappear – there'll be a tragic accident. My way – we take the plant over, call in the press and bring a shitstorm down on his head."

"We'll.... think of something."

"Playing by the rules has got you nowhere. Sod that for a game of soldiers. That bastard's ruined everything – my career, my reputation, my life. And worse, he's taken my family from me. I might have been a cheat and an alcoholic – too weak to admit I had a problem, to fight my addictions - but I loved my family to bits. I would have died for them. He used me, all along. I thought he was my friend, I treat him like a brother."

This is a side of Lucas I find myself speechless at. This is the first time he's admitted his problems, probably the first time he's admitted just how much he loved his family. It's a pity it's took their deaths to open his eyes, but unfortunately that's how it happens sometimes. We don't see what we had until we lose everything. It's easy to take things for granted. I know you could say that a lot of this he brought on himself but, it's hard not to feel sorry for him – when he looks at me with those eyes.

"So what do you say? Will you help me?"

"Lucas, I.... I don't think you should mention this to the others, or ever again. What you're talking about – it's not the way to go. It's not the way to solve this problem. I know you're angry and you're hurting, trust me I know exactly how you feel as you well know, but this is not the answer. You know how devious Veer is, he'd talk his way out of it somehow. And we'd be the bad guys."

"Not if he left in body bag."

"Ok that's enough, Lucas. I'm serious. Go and get some sleep, I will see you in the morning. And we won't say anything about this, it will never be mentioned again, do you understand? We can't condone that kind of action. We are supposed to be better than men like Ernest Veer."

"I'm serious, Harry. I have a list of press contacts right here in my phone. We take over that plant and send out a few calls. We tell them everything, tell them that we've taken it over. They won't be able to resist a story like this. You lot have got nothing and you're going nowhere. We might be labelled if we do this, imprisoned even maybe, but it won't be swept under the carpet, won't go away. All it takes is a spark to start a fire, right? And a fire can soon become an inferno. This is our spark."

"Or maybe it's just your revenge, Lucas."

I open the door for him to leave, I've heard enough. He looks like he's going to protest, but instead he holds my gaze for a moment before marching out. I let out a slow breath as I watch him stride down the hallway. Maybe I should tell Caitlin about what's just happened.

Against my better judgment, I haven't said anything to Caitlin about my conversation with Lucas last night. But I'm going to keep a very close eye on him. It's a cold morning, it looks like rain as we load up and head off.

We park up in a deserted part of the moorland – I don't know why I said that, it's all deserted. Anyway, now we head out on foot. At first glance, you'd think we're just normal ramblers – hiking equipment etcetera. What you don't see are the Kevlar vest we're wearing beneath our jackets and the weapons we have tucked inside our pockets. We haven't armed Lucas – we're still unsure of whether to trust him. After our conversation last night, I'm glad he's unarmed.

It's beautiful up here, peaceful. We're surrounded by nothing. Moorland for miles and miles, as far as the eye can see. If you're lucky, you might see wild animals run across your path. I could get used to this peace. No hustle and bustle, no cars polluting the air. No noise, just silence. That might drive some crazy, but silence is something I've been craving for a long time. I feel at peace up here, no fears and no worries. I feel free. I think, out here, so far away from civilisation, it would be easy to lose yourself. To disappear. It takes me a few moments to realise that Caitlin is beside me, talking to me.

"We need to stay together, we could easily get lost. Harry?"

"Yes. It's beautiful out here, isn't it?"

She smiles. "England's green and pleasant land. And Veer's trying to spoil it with a dirty great nuclear reactor."

We've been walking for feels like hours – especially in the legs – and so far we've only found evidence that appears to point to heavy vehicles being driven over the moor – tire tracks embedded deep into the ground, churned up, spoilt earth. In our equipment we've got Geiger Counters. If there is a nuclear reactor here – assuming it's operational – the Geiger's should pick up a trace of increased radiation levels. That's the theory anyway. The problem is Lucas doesn't know the exact location of this plant – if it even exists. For all we know, Lucas could still be leading us into a trap.

"Hey look at this!" Caitlin calls out to us.

She's squatting over something in the ground. Something buried deep into the earth. Something metallic, camera like.

"What is it?" I ask.

"Motion sensor by the looks. There's another a few paces to the left and to the right. Set out like a perimeter."

"An unseen perimeter? Looks like Lucas, has been telling the truth after all."

She pulls herself up. "Yep. We move cautiously from now on."

A perimeter of motion sensors, and we can't even see the reactor yet. These things are buried deep, you're lucky if you spot them. It's got me thinking. What happens to unsuspecting tourists who cross by accident? It seems Caitlin has read my mind.

"What do they do about tourists, Lucas? I mean these things aren't easy to see. Innocent people must cross all the time."

"This is only the first layer of security. Only really here to warn that there's people on the moor. Cross the line, there'll be someone constantly watching you until you leave the area."

"Ok. So let's cross the line."

We continue on and there can be no denying that Veer's security teams know we're here. Ten minutes after crossing those sensors, we're been followed by a motorcycle with two riders. We can hear the engine of a helicopter or a plane or a drone, but we can't actually see it. And now another vehicle has joined us – a jeep with blacked out windows. It's blatantly obvious that they're observing us – every time we stop, they stop. We move, they move. They follow us constantly on a parallel heading. Even sudden, erratic changes of course don't shake them. We never see them or their faces. They never get out of the car and the two on the bike keep their heads covered with their helmets. One thing we can see, they're obviously armed. They have no qualms about making that obvious, playing with their weapons when we stop to rest – although no shots are actually fired in our direction.

After another couple of hours, we arrive at the gates of a barbwire fence – an outer perimeter. There's another fence beyond, electrified, and beyond that, another. We can see the reactor – just your average nuclear plant, not much to see. Just a grey containment structure with a few other smaller buildings around it. It's only very small, covers only a mere fraction of the area. Again the perimeter looks deserted at first glance, but it so obviously isn't. There's a complex set up of motion sensors, CCTV. It looks like there's some sort of barrack buildings, a couple of guard huts – all clearly occupied. You can see the lights, see people roaming about, cars coming and going.

Caitlin laughs. "Well there it is – it exists."

"Why would I lie to you?"

She turns to Lucas and laughs again. "I don't know – get us out in the middle of nowhere to kill us perhaps. Isn't that what Veer wants?"

I turn away from the plant. "Don't the tourists ask questions? The press even?"

He shrugs his shoulders. "The Official Secrets Act is a powerful weapon in the right hands, if you know how to use it."

Our friends in the car are still watching us, although the bike has now disappeared. Probably gone on to the plant to warn security that they have visitors. It certainly seems that way – an alarm that wasn't ringing before is now, somewhere on the site. And the activity appears to have become more frantic.

Caitlin turns back to us, casting her eye over our observers. "I think we've seen enough."

Oakley nods. "I agree. We don't want to push it, not yet."

I'll be honest, I'm much happier now we're on our way back to our car. That car, the bike, the sound of something hovering above us, it gave me the creeps. I kept an eye on Lucas, like I said I would. I think his little idea is still burning in his head. He looked to me like he was searching for a weakness in that fence, a blind spot in the perimeter, a way in.

I'm still troubled by this. There must be another reason why he's built a reactor way out here, there must be.

"Penny for them."

I turn to see Caitlin standing in the doorway, resting against the frame, arms folded.

"I was just thinking."

"I could see that."

She sighs and moves to me, slipping her arms around me.

"There must be another reason why he's built it here."

"The military could be involved."

"What do we do now? About the plant I mean?"

She doesn't answer. Instead, she pulls away, turning in the doorway to look at me.

"Get some sleep, you look knackered."

"I thought you were going to infiltrate – you know, take photographs, steal documents?"

Again she doesn't respond. She just stares at me, one eyebrow raised.

"Caitlin...." Do I tell her about Lucas's idea. "Goodnight."

She smiles at me before strolling off down the corridor. Why didn't I tell her? The honest truth – a part of me agrees with Lucas. Taking over that plant would bring a shitstorm down on Veer's head – regardless of what happens to me.

I can't sleep so I watch the lightning race across the sky, out over the moor. I'm fascinated by the way it lights up the landscape, illuminating everything in its path, even the rain seems to glow. But now something catches my eye just below – movement of some sort around our vehicle. I turn off the lamp and strain my eyes to see. It's Lucas. He's loading some gear into the car. I know what he's planning. I should call for the others, stop him, but like I said earlier, a part of me agrees with him.

"Lucas."

"You're not going to stop me, Harry."

"I'm coming with you."

"I don't care what you and the.... What?"

I look back at the hotel – I have no reason to worry, the place is in darkness.

"I asked Caitlin what we were going to do next about this plant. She couldn't answer. That's because this taskforce can't do anything, because it plays by the bloody rules, even when Veer and his friends don't. Infiltration is easy in theory and a nice idea but.... I'm tired of being dragged, kicking and screaming, back to where we started. Dead ends and cover ups. I'm with you, Lucas, all the way. But we do this my way. We get inside, take photographs and find documentation. They haven't got the balls to carry out what we planned back at base, I have. If Veer really has put his name on this, the documents will be inside that plant. We get back out again and no one ever knows we've been there. If we get caught, the taskforce walks free, we've lost nothing. Agreed?"

He steps up close to me and scans my eyes. "You and me – we're more alike than you'd confess to."

"We've got nothing left to lose. Now are you agreed?"

"Ok, we do it your way."

We park up in the same place as before. This time, we're not in disguise. We wear the Kevlar and carry the weapons overtly. And we're prepared for a fight if necessary. And we might have one – we're planning to highjack that car that came out to watch us before. With its blacked out windows, we should have no problems in getting past security – that's assuming they don't stop us at the gates to ask for our passes. But with the way they keep a close eye on the area, it's our only chance.

"When we cross the perimeter, we split up. You keep the security boys on their toes, I'll sneak up from behind and get us their vehicle."

"So you want me to be the bait?"

"Do you think you can bring yourself to kill a man, Harry?"

"Yes." He's taken aback by my answer. "I have killed a man. I went undercover, Veer found out, tried to have us killed. I had no choice. So yeah, if I have to, I'll kill a man. Look, Caitlin's taught me a few things. You'd make the better bait."

We hold each other's gaze for a long time before he swallows hard.

"Ok, I'll keep them distracted, you sneak up on them."

If we're really doing this, I'm determined I'm going to be in control of the situation. Lucas is not in control of his emotions.

The night is on our side, it's pitch black out here over the moor. That'll help me sneak up on them. We cross together them split up, hopefully they won't see me as I pin myself to ground, doing my very best to hide myself in the shrubbery and mud. I wait. I'll give Lucas twenty minutes to get ahead. Hopefully, they won't realise I'm here and I'll be behind them. I remember what Caitlin taught me – stay low, chose your footing accurately and think about every move before you make them. Calm, control.

I hate the waiting. Time seems to drag, every minute seems to last forever. And the longer I'm sat here in this sopping mud, freezing my arse off, the more my nerves are getting to me. I check my weapons and my gear for about the sixth time in the last five minutes but something catches my ear. A car engine, in the near distance and heading this way. I press myself harder into ground, lying as flat as I can, reaching for my binoculars. I force myself to peer out from my position. My heart is pounding as I raise my head ever so slightly and slowly, expecting a bullet at any second. There's vehicle in the distance, a truck. There are barrels of some sort in the back with some kind of makings. I can just about make out the markings through the binoculars – they look like hazmat markings, hazardous materials, but at this range I can't be one hundred percent sure. It looks like the truck's slowing, coming to a stop so I'll continue to watch. If I'm right about the markings, then those barrels are from the plant. There are three men getting out and moving round to the rear of the truck. It looks like they're unloading the barrels – yes, they are. They're not just going to dump them here, surely? I can't see too well from here. They carry the barrels one at time – it's takes all three of them to carry them – and disappear. The land here is not a straight, smooth surface. There are depressions, ridges in the ground. And they've just headed down into one of them. When the men come back into view, they're hands are empty. So they are dumping those barrels, somewhere over that ridge. There's nothing I can do about it myself, now. But I will make a mental note of the activity I've witnessed, the taskforce can investigate later. If it is hazardous material and they are just dumping them, on Veer's orders, it fuel to add to the fire. I lower my binoculars and make myself flat against the ground once more.

Keeping low and keeping my movements simple, I move from my position. I'm not easy to spot in the dark – dressed all in black and with blackening on my face. And everything seems to be going according to plan. I can see the car in the distance, parked up. Lucas is just below the vehicle. He's lit a fire and appears to be setting up a camp – that should keep the guys in the car focused on him. I move swiftly but carefully, making sure I keep myself in a position where I can't be easily spotted as I creep closer. There should be a blind spot, I can use that – they won't be able to see me without turning around, therefore removing their attention from Lucas. Of course, we don't know how many occupants there are, but we're assuming two.

I chose my footing extra carefully as I get closer. The slightest thing could give me away now. I check my weapon and remove the safety. I crouch as I make my way up to the vehicle. My hand hovers on the rear door handle as I take a deep breath. Simultaneously I release the breath and open the door and point my weapon at the two male occupants. They don't have time to react, I've taken them completely by surprise. They attempt to reach for their own weapons but I bring my own up in warning, my finger on the trigger.

"I wouldn't if I you. Not unless you want to catch a bullet. Throw your weapons out of the car and get out."

At gunpoint they do as I say. I kick their weapons out of their reach.

"On the ground, now. And put your hands behind your head."

They ignore me this time - I think they fancy their chances – so I fire a warning shot above their heads.

"Do as I say or the next bullet will be lower."

Still they refuse so I take aim and squeeze the trigger. One of them falls clutching his leg. He cries out in agony, I got him just above the knee. Some colleague, his mate doesn't attempt to help him, doesn't even flinch at his cries.

"You'll be next pal. Get down with your hands above your head."

He does as I say, somewhat reluctantly. I toss him a handkerchief.

"Here. See to his leg."

By this point, Lucas is racing towards us, his own weapon at the ready. When he finally reaches me, he pounces on the men, handcuffing their hands behind their backs. Reaching into his rucksack, he pulls out a roll of electricians tape to gag them.

"Take their boots and socks too." I order. "If they somehow managed to get loose, they'd have a hard time walking over this ground with bare feet."

Lucas flashes me a smile. "We should shoot them. If they're alive, they're a threat."

"Don't you dare. We are better than that, Lucas. Put our kit in the boot and grab theirs. It'll help us blend in when we get into the plant."

"Good idea. Looks like your friend the Captain has taught you well."

"I always was a fast learner."

We take their body armour and jackets and put them on – hiding our own in the boot of the car as I said. We find two khaki caps in the glove compartment and don them, pulling them down as far as they'll go to conceal our facial features. I don't know if it'll work - I've just seen it done in the movies. Before we set off, I approach our prisoners and crouch at one of them. I pull away the tape.

"What were those men in the truck doing?"

He remains silent, a crafty, lecherous smirk on his lips. I slap him.

"I saw them, in the truck the barrels of hazardous materials. Are they waste from plant? Are you just dumping them over the moor?"

Again, he remains silent. Lucas taps my shoulder.

"We're wasting time."

I look up at him and back to the prisoner. I shake my head and sigh, replacing the tape over his mouth.

"We'll find out. That I promise. Whatever you're doing here, it's going to end. And nothing and no one is going to stop us."

Once we're on the move, Lucas gives me a quick glance.

"What was that all about back there?"

"I saw something. A truck dumping what look like hazardous materials."

"That wouldn't surprise me. I wouldn't put it past Veer. He doesn't care about the countryside or preserving it. To him, that's a waste of valuable land and resources."

"And what about you, Lucas?"

"Me? I love the countryside. I love the idea of losing myself out here. Out here I am free, I am.... absolved. I don't have to be the man Ernest Veer made me."

"You can be whoever you want to be – without Ernest Veer."

"It's a shame I realised that too late."

"It's never too late, Lucas. Look at you, look at what you're doing. You're helping us, taking a stand against Ernest Veer. You are absolved, Lucas."

"The thing is you're wrong. Veer's just a middleman. He always was – same as his father, and mine."

"What do you mean?"

"I don't know what I mean, Harry. But it never quite fit, never quite made sense. But I am certain, that there is something else or someone else behind all this. My guts tell me, that we were just middlemen. I'd bet my life on it."

"Why didn't you mention this before?"

"Because.... I thought I was going crazy. I don't have any proof, it was just a feeling."

"We go off instinct all the time. You could, should, have told us."

"Well I'm telling you now. I didn't want you to think...."

"Lucas, all we have to go on is gut instinct, rumour, hearsay. But it's a start. If he's just a middleman, who's really pulling the strings?"

It was more a rhetorical question than anything.

"Like I told you, this goes way beyond the United Kingdom. I think, there's more than one, calling the shots. I think you're spot on about a conspiracy, this is more than just corruption. And I think that it's being going on for a lot longer, and that it started well before 1957."

We get through the first two security gates unhampered. But now for the hard part – the last security point, a manned security point, before the plant itself. Lucas brings the car to a gentle stop at the gate. An armed guard stroll out from the small pillbox to our right. He strolls around the car, spitting a few times and sniffing the air. He stops at the driver's door, we hold our breath. He taps on the window and shouts something. Lucas and I exchange a glance.

"Sorry pal?!" Lucas deepens his voice.

"I said that's ten quid you own me – your team lost the match."

I whisper, letting out the breath I was holding. "He's talking about football."

Lucas laughs. "Yeah, whatever."

"Ten quid – I'll pick it up after my shift."

I nudge Lucas. "Say something. It has to look real."

"I was out on the moor, wasn't I? You could be taking me for a ride for all I know."

"And how about our visitors?"

"Just ramblers taking in the night air. Mad if you ask me. Who'd want to be stuck out here?"

The guard turns and strolls back towards the pillbox, laughing as he goes. A few moments later, the gate opens and we're in.

It's a small plant, well camouflaged. What I mean is, it would be easy for someone like Veer to pass it off as something else – a military installation perhaps, given that the army use about half of the Plain. In total, there are only three buildings to the plant itself. There's a lot of activity though – workers rushing or strolling from area to area mostly. Part of it is still under construction – although at this time of the night, most of the machinery is silent. Scaffolding covers two of the buildings – one of them the containment that houses the reactor. Apart from the odd worker and or guard mulling about, the area is still, quite, deserted almost.

"I don't like this, Lucas. It's too.... quiet."

"Veer wants it that way. It doesn't draw attention."

I scan the area, taking a deep breath. "Alright. Nice and calm, don't draw attention to ourselves, we should be fine." I swallow the hard lump and take another deep breath before muttering under my breath. "That's a theory." I look to Lucas. "Keep your weapon handy, and the safety off."

We step out of the car and make for the reactor. We've made good time, the sun's just rising but it doesn't matter now. Of course by now, Caitlin and the others will know we're missing. I couldn't just leave without saying anything – I left a note for them, explaining everything. I knew by the time she found it, it would too late to stop us.

Our movements are swift but cautious and silent. Again, we think about every move before we make it, before we turn every corner. It's well lit inside – the corridors. All shiny and new. I let Lucas lead the way – he says he knows the layout, knows the way to the control room off by heart apparently. I'm not so sure. And the longer we're exposed like this in the corridors, the more likely we're going to be caught. It only takes someone – a worker or a guard – to walk around the corner, to pop out of one the many closed doors, and it is game well and truly over.

"Lucas, are you sure you know the way?"

"Shh. Yes. Stay close."

I let out a frustrated sigh before following.

We stop outside the control room – the doors are locked.

"What are we doing here? You agreed to do this my way."

"The control room is the nerve centre. We need to be in there. The staff might know things, important things."

I don't like it but.... I drop to one knee to cover the corridor as Lucas works at the control panel on the wall further down the corridor.

"I thought you were a politician, not an electrician." I whisper.

He laughs. "I did my apprenticeship in engineering. Politics came later – much later. I wanted to be an engineer. It was my father who persuaded me in to politics." The panel sparks and he curses. "I'll fix it so that once we're inside, only we can control the door from in there."

"There's a lot I don't know about you, Lucas."

"You never asked."

I judged him. I didn't want to know him. I was blinded by my anger. I didn't think that he was being used like I was - that he was just another pawn in a game of political chess.

"Got it."

We ready ourselves outside the door, bring our weapons up. The door begins to slide back. One thing's for certain – Veer wants this place completely secure. We charge into the control, brandishing our weapons in the faces of the skeleton crew of three. We don't give them time to react - we use our weapons to herd them to the back of the room, their hands above their heads. Lucas is aggressive and violent, lashing out at them. I push him back, stepping in between.

"Lucas, calm down!" I turn to the crew. "We need to ask you some question."

They just stare at me with eyes of fear. This doesn't deter me.

"I'm with The Sellafield One Taskforce, you've heard of us, yes?"

They all nod and mutter under their breath.

"Then you'll know no one is going to hurt you. We have reason to believe that this plant is not only severely flawed, but is also being used for illegal activity. Your here, working at the sharp end, so I'm asking you - what's the purpose of this plant?"

They look at each other but remain silent.

"You must know something. Talk and you'll all be fine. You'll walk away from here unharmed."

One of them lowers his hands. "We don't know anything. We're just employed to monitor the reactor – it's not even operational yet."

"Who hired you?"

"A recruitment agency."

"What agency?"

"Just an agency. There are loads of recruitment agencies about these days. They were acting on behalf of the plant owner."

"Name of the plant owner? Don't piss me about – you must know, he pays your wages."

"Ernest Veer - the man you lot have been investigating."

I think for a moment. I look deep into the man's eyes – he's telling the truth. "Ok, good."

Lucas turns, bringing up his weapon again. "Get out."

"Lucas, what are you...?"

"We're going to let them go, Harry. Then we're going to seal ourselves in here. You want to bring a shitstorm down on this place, on Veer's head - I'm going to do just that." He turns to the crew, brandishing his weapon in their faces. "Go now or catch a bullet."

They don't need to be told again and rush from the room. Once they're clear Lucas seals the doors, keeping his weapon raised – raised at me it would appear. Once he's sure we're secure in here and that the doors can only be controlled by us, he turns to me.

"This was not the plan, Lucas."

"I'm improvising. I want results, Harry. I call the press, tell them I've taken this place over. They won't be able to resist coming out here, exposing this place to the public for what it really is."

I cup my mouth with both hands and sigh. I don't have much choice but to go along with him. "Ok, call your press friends. But remember, we're not killers or criminals, Lucas. We are not here to hurt innocent people. Make your call. Tell them we've done this as part of an official raid by The Sellafield One Taskforce. It might be the only thing that'll save us if this goes wrong."

I slump into one of the seats, making myself comfortable. There's no way back now. I just hope that this doesn't backfire on us. And that Caitlin and the others take our lead and back us up. I close my eyes and take a deep breath. This was not the plan, this is not a covert infiltration to find evidence. A siren is already ringing out across the plant. I can just imagine the chaos that will be happening outside. But as I sit here, with Lucas chattering away on his phone, it's his conversation that catches my attention now. The words don't sink in, and the way he is staring at me. I've seen that look before, and it is not good. Nor are his words. And now I'm sure his gun is pointed at me.

"I'm sorry, Harry." He swallows hard and blinks, his eyes turning cold and.... enraged. "No. I am acting alone. I have a taken a member of The Sellafield One Taskforce hostage, and have taken over the control room of a nuclear reactor on Salisbury Plain. I want the press and Ernest Veer on this site within the next four hours, or I'm going to blow it up." He pauses as he listens to the voice on the other end. I can't believe what I've just heard. Did I hear him right? "It's here! I am standing in the control room as we speak! I am holding a gun to an innocent woman's head and my finger is on the trigger. I swear, if my demands are not met, I will blow up this reactor. If you don't believe me, listen to this." He approaches the console and fiddles with the buttons. I'm paralysed. I can see what he is doing but my body won't let me stop him. Is it shock, disbelief? I can't even think. "You know what that sound is? That is the sound of the reactor, powering up – a terribly flawed reactor. In here I have control. This place is such a mess, I won't have any problems making the reactor a ticking bomb, and then all I have to do is push a button. The truth will be told! And you will listen! Otherwise, well let us just say Salisbury Plain won't be quite the same ever again!"

With that he hangs up and slips the phone into his pocket. I just stare at him, speechless.

"I'm sorry, Harry. But there's no other way."

"We were supposed to be covert, Lucas. Take photographs, find documentation. Threatening to blow this place up, was not what I agreed to!"

"No! That's why I told them that you're my hostage."

"Lucas, this is not the way!"

"Yes it is! Don't you see, Harry! This is the only way to stop Veer, to show him for whom he really is!"

I bring up my weapon. "Don't do this, Lucas. Don't make me have to stop you."

"Go ahead, fire. I gave you dud ammunition."

"You're bluffing."

He laughs. "Squeeze the trigger if you don't believe me."

The gun fires but he's telling the truth – blank ammunition. And now he's holding his weapon to my head.

"Lucas, don't be stupid. Shut the reactor down and calm down. This is not the way to go!"

"My bullets are real, Harry. Don't make me have to hurt you."

He can see I don't believe him about the ammo so he fires a shot to my left. It's real alright, the bullet ricochets off of the wall.

"Sit down. And don't make any moves."

He will – he's really willing to hurt me if I don't comply. He planned this the whole time.

"Lucas, yes this will get everybody's attention. But you'll be called a terrorist. You've taken a hostage, threatened to blow this place up, do you really think they're going to take you seriously?!"

"They'll have to! Your way wasn't working, you said it yourself. Nothing but dead ends, concrete walls thrown in your way. If we'd found documents, photo's, you really think Veer wouldn't have a way to sweep then under the carpet?"

"And what is this going to achieve?!"

"Everything. Veer will come here and I'll bring him right inside. I'll get his confession, played out live to all the press outside. He'll confess that he's covered up accidents, authorised corner cutting and illegal experiments. He'll admit that he, that he had my family killed!"

"A confession under duress will mean nothing in a court of law, the judges will throw it out! His lawyers will protest that of course he was going to confess! You were threatening to blow up a nuclear reactor, kill innocent people!"

"Who said anything about court. No. No, when he's confessed, I'm going to put this gun to his head, and I'm going to look right into his eyes, and then I'm going to pull the trigger."

"Have you used us all along, Lucas? Were we your way here?"

"Yes. And I'm sorry."

"Yeah, yeah you knew, of course you did. That's why you really told us about this place – you knew we'd be compelled to investigate. Did you lie to us? Everything you told us about this whole affair – was it lies, Lucas?"

"No. And that is just another reason why I'm doing this, and why nothing is going to stop me. He's ruined so many lives. Your parents, your life. He ordered me to cover up Sellafield, before and after."

"Lucas, we'll get him. We'll find his warehouse and his bunker you told us about, somehow."

"No. No it's too late now."

"Lucas...."

"Shut up! Sit down! Do as you're told, or else."

I hold my hands up as he brandishes his weapon once more and sit. "I thought you were a better man, Lucas."

"I am. That's why I'm doing this."

"You realise, they could just ignore your call. Pass you off as just another crazy lunatic."

"No. They know who I am, who I used to be, what I'm connected to. Besides, you know what the press are like, they can't resist a story."

"Lucas, please."

"I'd rather not have to gag you, Harry. I won't tell you again."

Arguing with him won't do me any good, not yet anyway.

We've sat in silence, for.... I don't know how long. Hours, I know that. We watch the frenzy outside on the monitors. Armed guards, workers and the press. Even the police and the army are arriving now. I hope Caitlin and the others are out there too. Not that they'll be much help but, it is comforting to know that they're out there. The pressures on me. I joined this little tirade – yes he lied to me – but it's my responsibility to talk him down. I chose to ignore the warning signs, chose not to tell the others about his plan. So it's down to me. I almost jump out of my skin when the phone on the wall rings. Lucas snatches the handset.

"Yes, this is Lucas Chester. You know what I want! Don't fuck me about! Get me Ernest Veer here, now! I swear, I will blow this place." He listens for a long time. "My hostage is safe. She's fine. No I won't let her go! She's important to this. No more talk! You're stalling! You think I won't blow this place but I will. I have nothing left to lose. You only have two hours left before I push that button, I suggest you stop wasting them."

I swallow hard. "Lucas, is this really what your wife would want?"

"She's not here, is she?! She's dead!"

Is this really happening? Because it feels like a dream, or a nightmare.

TWENTY: SHOWDOWN

Only an hour left of Lucas's deadline. If Veer doesn't show up soon, I really think he's going to do it. That look in his eyes – he's like a madman, a wild, raging animal. He really does have the balls, I do believe, to carry out his threat. He really thinks he has nothing left to live for.

"It looks like Veer wants to test me. Maybe I should flood the containment with radiation, give them the fright of their lives. What do you think?"

"I think you should.... think very hard before you make any rash decisions."

He laughs maniacally, playing with the gun in his hands, before jumping to his feet and marching up to the control console. He begins to flip switches. With his back turned I risk getting to my feet, slowly, quietly.

"Don't even think about it, Harry." He looks back at me, taking careful aim with his sidearm. "I can blow this thing before you even get to me. All I have to do is push a button."

"I'm just stretching my legs."

"Sit down!"

I don't have much choice with a gun at my head. I'm no use if I'm dead. I watch him press buttons, flip switches and soon an alarm begins to ring. We can see the panicked activity on the monitors, lights flashing urgently, frenzied people scurrying about.

"I hope nobody's in there, otherwise they'll die a horrific death," he laughs. "Radiation poisoning – not an easy way to go."

"You've lost your mind, Lucas."

"Yeah well, that's what happens when everyone turns their backs on you, throws you to the wolves. That's what happens when you lose everything you love – you should know that better than anyone, Harry." He turns and scrutinises every inch of me. "It's still there. I can see it, when I look at you – really look. You're still angry, still.... wild."

"You're wrong."

"Am I? I don't think so. Why are you really here, Harry? You didn't have to go along with me – when we arrived in here. You could have resisted, made a run for it even."

"Considering you put blank ammunition in my weapons, it would have been pointless, wouldn't it? The outcome would have been the same, no matter what I tried."

He smiles and turns back to the console. "Look at them, out there."

Whatever he's done, they very aware of it outside now. There's blind panic by the looks. Police and military personnel trying to usher people back. Personnel in hazmat suits rushing towards the containment, taking one look at their Geiger's and retreating. I'm not surprised that the phone's ringing now. Lucas answers.

"That was just a warning. If Ernest Veer is not here within the hour, BANG! Do you understand?"

With that he hangs up, completely ignoring the, I imagine, urgent and pleading voice on the other end.

"How do you know so much about nuclear reactors, Lucas?"

"I told you – I did an apprenticeship in engineering."

"Yeah but.... knowing how to power one up, which buttons to press to flood the containment, to blow it up."

"Oh I've learned a lot in my years. You cut corners like Veer has in this place, and it doesn't take a nuclear scientist to blow it up. The thing is already a ticking time bomb."

We return to silence for a long time as he slumps down into his seat.

"You were right you know – it's not an easy way to go."

He looks up at me. "What?"

"Dying a radiation death. It's how it's going to happen for me. One of our scientists told me. It's going to be long, lingering and excruciatingly painful. They tell me, that it'll start with a pounding headache, violent vomiting. Gradually, I'll lose control of everything – bladder, bowels. Someone will have to.... clean me up, because I'll be bedridden. I'll be lying there, in my own waste, in agony with absolutely no control whatsoever. Eventually, my skin and hair will start to peel – every time I move, it'll just pull away like paper. That's the censored version, Lucas. I'll tell you, in full detail if you want. But I'll whisper it in your ear, just to you. You see, I can't bring myself to say it properly, out loud. Because it hurts too much. You know, I think I preferred not knowing better."

He holds my gaze for a long time before swallowing. He stands and strolls to my, kneeling at my side.

"Tell me."

"Are you sure? Because once you've heard it, you can't un-hear it. You won't be able to wipe it so easily from your mind."

"I said tell me. But no tricks, I won't hesitate to put a bullet through you."

He will have it his way. I bend to whisper into his ear and proceed to tell him everything about my death that I know. I hold nothing back, spare no detail. And my words have the desired effect. His face drains of colour and he keeps swallowing very hard. He pulls at his clothing and is sweating profusely. When I'm done, he pulls back and returns to his seat in silence. His eyes never leave me.

"You see Lucas, if you do this, you'll be condemning hundreds, thousands even to a similar death. Is it really worth it, Lucas? Honestly?"

He looks to the floor and is silent for a long time before looking me dead in the eye.

"If that is what it takes for the people to see the truth, then so be it."

"Lucas, for petty's sake give it up. Please."

"Look on the bright side, Harry. You'll go quick with me. You won't suffer the death you described."

Ten minutes to go. I really don't think Veer's going to show up.

"Any last requests, Harry?"

"Yeah, let me go. Or better yet, switch that thing off and let's walk out of here together."

He laughs. "Funny. Real funny, Harry." His expression changes suddenly, suddenly he's serious. "Thing is, it might not be so easy to just shut it off. This place is a catalogue of errors. One wrong flip of a switch, push of a button.... bang. Like I said, ticking time bomb."

"Ok. We can call in specialists from the IAEA, my team can do it. All you have to do is open those doors and walk out with me."

"Harry, they'll shoot me."

"Not if you come with me. You've got the press here, the army, the police. Lucas they can't just shoot you. You're in my custody, custody of The Sellafield One Taskforce, they won't shoot."

"If you really believe that, then you are blind."

Before I can say anything more, the phone rings. Lucas is on his feet in an instant, snatching the handset.

"Good. Send him in, alone. If you follow I'll know, and then I'll have to push more buttons. And if you try to rush me, I'll blow the reactor." He slams the receiver down and looks up at me. "He's here."

We watch Veer every step of the way. He looks confident, but looks can be deceptive. He stops outside the door and Lucas depresses the switch to open it, keeping his weapon trained between me and the door. It opens and Ernest Veer steps inside. Immediately, Lucas jumps on the controls, re-sealing the door. It all happens in seconds – no one would have time to rush him. Veer has that same crafty smile on his lips as he looks from me to Lucas before making himself comfortable in one of the chairs.

"Well you wanted me, here I am."

Lucas laughs and returns to the phone to give out his next instructions – orders rather. While he's busy doing that, Veer looks to me.

"Miss Jenkins. I figured you'd be involved."

I laugh. "I'm his hostage, Veer. He played me like a good one. Nevertheless, I did help him infiltrate your little plant. This wasn't our objective." I scrutinise him. "Quite a place you've built here. Quite a book of tales – lies, deceit, corner cutting."

"Who's going to really care? It's doing no harm, way up here on Salisbury Plain. It's actually quite an achievement. I've built a fully operational – almost – nuclear reactor at a rock bottom price."

"And what if it explodes? You've cut every corner possible, skimped on materials at every opportunity. What about the fallout, Veer?"

He shrugs his shoulders. "Won't harm me. I can be safely on a plane out of the country within thirty minutes of any such thing occurring. So why should I care?"

"You really are a piece of work. You've cut every corner in this place and you really don't give a shit. A whole plant, a ticking time bomb."

"It won't affect me, Harry. Or my pockets."

I open my mouth to speak but Lucas cuts me off.

"You bastard."

"If you're looking for a confession, you're wasting your time. I have nothing to confess."

Really? "You've just admitted that this place is not what it seems. I mean, there's a lot of people outside very surprised to even see a nuclear reactor out here on Salisbury Plain. You're not getting away with it this time. You're not going to make me your scapegoat, Ernest. We're all here for the truth. And if we don't get it, I'm going to blow this place sky high."

"No you won't. You," he scoffs. "You're nothing but a coward. A man who can't go a single hour without a drink, or a shag or blowjob from some whore. That's why your wife walked out on you."

"You murdered my wife! And my children! You had them killed, had the breaks cut on their car, you murdering bastard!"

"So what if I did?! It was an awful shame, but I had to teach you a lesson, Lucas. You pathetic little excuse for a man. You squealed so easily to Miss Jenkins here and her friends. You owe me, Lucas. That means I own you."

At that, Lucas launches himself at Veer, clawing and tearing at him like some animal. I'm forced to intervene, placing myself between them to push them apart.

"You murdering bastard! My family had done nothing to you!"

"No. But your wife did plenty for me. Especially between the sheets."

"What did you say?"

"What, she never told you? We'd been having an affair for years. I had to get close, Lucas. Get inside. I own you, I owned everything you had. And everyone. Of course, she thought I genuinely cared about her. She was a good screw, I'd give her that. The thing's she'd do between the sheets."

Again, I'm forced in between them as Lucas attempts to launch himself at Veer.

"Stop it! Ignore him, Lucas! He's trying it on!" I scream at the top of my voice as I struggle to force him back. "Now just calm down!" I hold them apart, standing in the centre of them. "We came here for the truth, and we're going to get it. But not if you kill each other."

"I want to tear his fucking heart out!" Lucas screams, fighting with me.

"You will get your chance later, Lucas, I guarantee it. First we need answers to questions, remember? Just calm down. Ignore him."

Lucas looks like he's going to protest but instead throws himself into a chair. I turn to Veer.

"You're at the centre of this corruption. We have questions, we want answers. Refuse, I'll set him onto you again."

"And you said you are just his hostage."

"I'm making the best out of a bad situation. We've been trying to get you, answers to our questions, for months. I'd be a fool to ignore an opportunity like this, wouldn't I? Now sit down. And I'm asking the questions." I look to Lucas. "And if you so much as go near that console, I'll give you such a smack. Now, since we've already made a start, talking about this plant, we'll continue."

"Why should I answer your questions? Give me a reason why I should tell you the truth now, after all this time and resistance."

"Veer, we're in here alone. Just us three. Why shouldn't you reveal the truth? Anything you say to me can't exactly be used in court, can it? You can deny the conversation ever took place, can't you?"

He likes that. He smiles and rubs his chin. I know what Lucas has done, I just hope Veer doesn't, otherwise he won't say a truthful word.

"Ok. Since you put it like that."

"Alright then. What is the purpose of this plant?"

"What do you think? It's a nuclear reactor - I would have thought its purpose was obvious."

"Not necessarily."

He laughs. "Oh very good. But no. We built it up here for security reasons, that's all. After all, we live in a dangerous world, in very dangerous times."

"I think you're lying. I think it has another purpose. I think that there's some.... experiment going on here. Something to do with the effects of radiation on the land perhaps. Or maybe a military purpose. Why don't you tell us about this place, Ernest."

"I will. It's still under construction. We've still got some.... issues to work out. We are in the middle of nowhere after all. We're still having the odd teething trouble with the reactor, but that's to be expected when you cut corners. Materials burn out quicker because they are not really up to the job. Plus it is a light water reactor, they're always troublesome – especially when you're using a graphite moderator."

I look to the floor and shake my head. "That is not what I meant."

"No. But it's all you're going to get."

I scoff and shake my head once more. "What about failsafe systems?"

"What about failsafe systems?"

"Oh, so they're nonexistent then?"

He smiles and shrugs. "Well they are rather costly systems."

"Systems that prevent accidents. Ok. I think I've heard enough about this place, heard all I really need, want to know. Let's get back to our original investigation. Cover ups, corruption, conspiracy. The questions you refuse to answer. I mean, you have no reason not to answer them now, in here. As it's just the three of us."

He laughs. "You think it's that simple. That it's confined to the UK, confined to the nuclear industry. That it's small fry, just a few money hungry businessmen. You have no idea."

"Then tell me about it, Ernest. You're the one pulling the strings after all, right?"

"Oh is that what you think? You think I ordered all of this, cover ups, backhanders? No. No I'm just a middleman. One of many."

"A middleman for whom?"

He just smiles at me. He clearly has no intentions of answering that, but I decide to push him anyway.

"Come on, Ernest. If you're just a middleman, talk to me. Fill me in, educate me. Maybe I can even make it worth your while."

Again, he just smiles. I sigh.

"Alright, you don't want to elaborate, yet. I can live with that, for now. Tell me about Sellafield. You ordered the cover up – Lucas here confessed that. You covered up the IAEA inspection. How? You have a list of names – trusted people. But that inspection, just before the accident, that wasn't one of your trusted people, was it? That made you panic. That's why you were there, just after the accident with Lucas. Making sure that no one talked, that the cover up could be physically implemented and.... effective, yes?"

"Yes, I'll give you that one. The inspection six months before the accident was.... a problem. I could have come undone that day. Many things could have been exposed – my list of names one of them. The recommendations weren't easy to, how should we say, erase. Too many people had seen them. But I got one of my trusted men to.... rewrite the reports, get me the originals so that I could dispose of them – I believe you knew her, Alison Cain. As for the people who had already seen them, well, money is a valuable thing these days. Works wonders if you know how to use it."

"My parents, me.... You did this. And looking into your eyes, there's nothing. You're just cold. Not an ounce of sympathy."

"Should there be?"

I try to ignore that comment. I guess he's trying to push my buttons, to push me over the edge. I'm determined it won't work.

"You took over from your father, didn't you. This.... conspiracy has been going on since 1957. The Windscale fire, October tenth. That's where it started."

"No. My dear, it started well before then."

That knocks me back a bit. I wasn't expecting that. I swallow and try to continue.

"So you admit, there is a conspiracy?"

"If that's what you want to call it, yes. But me, my father, Chester, his father – we're all just middlemen. And there are always more. You think, if you expose me, that it's going to end? My dear this is only the beginning. And rest assured, there is a lot more to this, than first meets the eye."

"Then tell me about it."

He smiles and laughs. Clearly, he's not going to so I decided to move on. For the moment.

"Your father covered up an incident at a well known nuclear plant, an incident that was exposed by a man called Oscar Oakley. Your father had his family killed."

Chester scoffs. "Like father like son."

"Except, it wasn't supposed to be his family in the car that day."

"No."

"But I have a hunch. Did your father know? Did he know that Oscar had decided to stay home that day?"

"Well, when he didn't show up for work, I suppose he did, yes."

"But I think he must have known. See, you had people watching Lucas, yes? That's how you knew he'd been talking to me. So, we can assume, that your father would have done the same. Wouldn't that be a fair assumption?"

"It's possible."

"Then your father ordered the murder of three innocent people – two of them children – knowing exactly what he was doing, knowing exactly who was in that car."

Chester spits. "I refer you back to my last sentence."

Veer sighs. "Oakley was a problem. My father found a way to ruin him, and therefore silence him. He was devoted to his family. How do you break a man, make him weak? Take away the one thing he lives for."

I continue, ignoring Lucas's ranting as best as I can. "So, how many so called incidents, have you covered up between you? But not all of them were accidents, were they?"

"I don't know what you mean."

"Yes, you do. See, we have reason to believe that some of them were deliberate."

"Ah, you are good." Veer sits back, stretches and laughs. "Well, the world is a terrible place. Protecting it costs money. But of course, the slightest hint of control, and the human rights bandwagon starts up. You can't do this, you can't do that. You can't imprison terrorists or murderers or paedophiles for life because it's inhuman and degrading. You can't spy on the public to weed out the threats to life because that would be an infringement on their privacy. Only the guilty would be collard but that's irrelevant."

"So you fake accidents, stage them, just so you can justify spying, the war on terror, ignoring human rights. I can actually understand that. I can and in a small way, maybe a part of me agrees. Because you're right about the human rights bandwagon – they go too far sometimes. Make it so that the criminal has more rights than a victim, make you terrified in your own home. But that's no excuse for putting lives at serious risk. We're supposed to be better than the terrorists, wouldn't you agree?"

"Perhaps. But nothing in life works like that, does it? Not everything is fair or just."

"No. Sometimes things are just sick. Like causing accidents, just so you can monitor the effects on the surrounding population. Experimenting on your own people – how can you really justify that? Oh yeah, money. New drugs. New weapons of mass destruction."

"New cures for diseases that are, supposedly, incurable." Veer counters. "Think about it. Think about what's happening to you. Now, my scientists, with a little more research, could one day cure what's happening to you."

"More research? You mean more test subjects. More people living a life like mine."

"Sometimes for the greater good, sacrifices are needed. They should be honoured."

"Sacrifices? You're talking about human beings, Veer. Living, breathing, innocent people. Children even. And you talk like they're nothing but slabs of meat."

"Well."

"What do you mean, well? Are you really so.... callous?"

"He is." Lucas calls out. He watches with amusement, and rage at Veer.

Veer smiles and licks his lips. "Like I said, it's for the greater good."

"And to line your pockets, and the pockets of shareholders, bankers, the government. Prime Minister Sutton-Smyth is a close friend of yours, isn't he?"

Lucas scoffs. "Are you shagging his wife too?"

I shoot him a glare. "Lucas!" I hold his gaze for a moment before looking back to Veer. "Is the Prime Minister involved like you? Is he another middleman? Or is it him calling the shots? Is he pulling your strings?"

"Then men pulling my strings, and those of many others, are far more powerful than any Prime Minister. But you're right, of course the government's involved. Turning blind eyes, ignoring the obvious. They too like the money – big, generous donations to their party funds. All the parties, not just a select few. Besides, it gets them the results they need to push measures through parliament, and the public, that would otherwise cause a controversy."

"So come on then, just how deep does this conspiracy, corruption run?"

"Politics and the nuclear industry are just two of many areas. This is about more than money. This is about control. And to control, you need more than politics and energy."

"So the justice system as well then, yes?"

"For starters. Try the military. Try the NHS. Try the police and fire. Education and employment. Try every institution you trust to protect you, to keep you living. Everything you depend on to keep things running smoothly and efficiently."

I almost choke on the breath. We expected as much, but to hear it confessed from him. It really takes your breath away. It certainly takes your vocabulary away. There's a long moment of silence before I clear my throat.

"So tell me, who is doing this? Who is behind this whole thing, who's running the show, who's...?"

"I'm just a middleman, one of many. Do you really think I'd be privy to that information?"

"Of course you would." Lucas sits forward and wipes his mouth. "You're a big shot. Well connected, plenty of money, a title. And I know you, Ernest. You're not a fool. You'd at least try to find out who you were working on behalf of. You like to be in the know, in control of your own destiny. You're not the type to sit back and follow orders like a good little soldier – or rather, an obedient dog would be a better description of you."

"And what about you, Lucas? You're not guilt free, are you?"

"I know what I have done. What I am guilty of. And no doubt, I'll pay for my crimes, but I've past caring about what is going to happen to me. I've lost everything. Because of you."

"You're a liability, Lucas. I should have known all along. And as for you, Harriet Jenkins, I should have had you killed when I had the chance. I should have sent a proper hitman, instead incompetent fools in a car – regardless of how it would have looked. I could have talked my way out of it. I had plenty of places to lay low until the heat had died down."

"What?"

"You heard me."

"It was a petty about Ms Cain, but she did enough. Killed your friend, Captain Tate. Implanted mistrust, had you fighting amongst yourselves. What she did was beautiful. I should have taken lessons."

I don't know what to say. It's still very raw. I know what I'm feeling now, but I'll try my very best to keep it in check – rage. Lucas is struggling to keep his in check though. His fists are clenched so tight the knuckles are white. He grinds his teeth and his eyes are like an inferno. If he was any redder in the face, they'd be smoke coming out of his nostrils. He reminds me of a raging bull. I hook his gaze and shake my head.

"You know, Lucas. Your wife – very passionate woman. You should be ashamed of yourself. You took her for granted. Treat her like a possession, a thing."

"Lucas, ignore him. He's trying to push you over the edge, to get you to lose control. Don't listen to him."

"She stopped loving you, a long time ago. You lost her the day she met me."

"Lucas, ignore him. Of course your wife loved you. He's stirring it."

"Same as your kids. She used to bring them with her. Lovely kids. I absolutely adored them"

I scoff. "So much you had them killed."

"I had to teach Lucas a lesson." He looks back to Lucas and there's that smile again – crafty, sly, evil. Pure evil. "Do you know what they used to call me? Daddy. Our new daddy."

"You bastard!"

Lucas once again launches himself at Veer. And this time I'm too slow. And Lucas is really going for him. Punch after punch, kick after kick. He's even biting at him – biting his nose, ears, anything he can get his teeth around. He sinks his teeth right in to Veer's left earlobe and tears it right off. There's blood everywhere and Veer's screams are constant and ear piercing. He draws his pistol and now I step in. Just as he pulls the trigger, I force his arm up, causing the bullet to ricochet harmlessly away.

"Stop Lucas! Just stop! We need him alive. Ok. Just breathe. We need him alive. Just think about this, Lucas. This is what he wants. He's pushing your buttons, he's lying. She loved you, and so did your children. Just stop. Put the gun away."

He backs off, breathing heavily, tears streaming down his face. Veer is curled on the floor, laughing his head off. I turn on him.

"You think this is funny? This man is on the edge. Do you really think he won't blow this place, Veer? He will. Look in his eyes. He is ready and willing to do it. You did this to him, you bastard."

"Yeah, blow this place sky high."

I turn to see Lucas at the controls of the reactor. He's fiddling with buttons again. I rush to his side.

"What are you doing?"

"What I said I would."

"Lucas, no. Please."

"Why not? What have we got to lose? What have we got to live for?"

"Lucas, look at me." when he refuses, I grip his cheeks and force him to look at me. "I said look at me! Please, don't do this. Lucas, I'm dying and I don't know how long I have left. I don't want to go in some blaze of glory. Out there, I have a woman who loves me. And I love her. If I'm going to die, I want to do it my way, by her side. Not like this." Now he's really in tears. "Please, Lucas. Please. This isn't what your wife would want. She'll be looking down on you right now, screaming at you to stop. Begging you to be the better man. What would your kids think of you? Wouldn't you want them to be proud of you?"

"Of course I would."

"Then this isn't the way. Stop."

"I want that bastard to pay!"

"He will, I promise!"

"No...."

He turns to Ernest Veer, gun ready in his hands, but as he takes aim a shot rings out. Lucas grips his chest before looking down. Blood covers his hands, blood from a gunshot wound to his chest. He looks up at Veer, who holds the smoking gun in his hands, and looks to me with pleading eyes before falling to the floor. I stare at his body for a moment before looking up at Veer. He points the gun at me, ready and willing to pull the trigger.

"Any last words, Miss Jenkins?"

"Yes. Thank you, Sir Ernest Veer. Thank you so much, you arrogant, murderous bastard. Because whatever happens now, you're finished. Oh, in case you're wondering what I'm going on about - Lucas left the line to the press and the people outside, open. They've heard every word of this conversation. You'll be on every news channel before the day is out."

Now the smile is wiped from his lips. I laugh.

"Yeah, that's right. You've been had, Ernest Veer. You've been outsmarted by the man you thought a coward, a sheep. The man you used, has brought you down." I scoff at the gun in his hands. "It's over, Veer. Put the gun down so I can go home. I'm tired, I want a shower and I need to make love to the woman I love."

"Oh no, we're going nowhere."

"Yes, we are. It's finished. You're exposed. Give it up. Killing me would be pointless."

"No, no it wouldn't. This is all your fault, you bitch. You should have died at Sellafield."

"Yeah well I didn't. Boohoo. You know what, if you want to shoot me, go ahead. I'm already dead, remember. At least I won't have to suffer the indignity of a horrific, humiliating death. Go on! What are you waiting for?! Do it!" I shake my head. "No. You won't, because you're the coward here. Lucas was a good man, brave and honest in the end. Finished on the right side, where it really matters."

"You think I'm a coward." He scoffs. "I'll gladly pull this trigger."

"Yeah you see, you keep saying that, don't you?"

"Ever since you started poking your nose into my affairs, I've had nothing but grief. You're worse than a wife. I'm lucky I've still got a reputation, my money, power."

"Had a reputation. Had money. Had power. Not anymore, thanks to my friend Lucas Chester – sorry, Sir Lucas Chester."

"He lost his right to be called that."

"No. No he deserves to be called that. He's given his life exposing you to the world. You – you deserve to be thrown into a deep, dark pit at the ends of the Earth and forgotten about. Or better yet, you deserve death."

"But you're going to get it instead."

I nod and laugh. "See what I mean – you keep saying it. But your finger's nowhere near the trigger."

Calling his bluff is probably not a good idea, and I wouldn't recommend it. He looks at me, deep into my eyes, and I look at him. I stand before him and hold up my hands.

"Go on then. Do it. Pull the trigger. It's so easy, isn't it? Oh sorry, you wouldn't really know, would you? You get other people to do your dirty work for you, don't you?"

"You shouldn't push me bitch."

"Oh just get it over with will you. I'm getting bored with this now."

"Then I'll put you out of your misery."

I hold his gaze. I'm determined to look him right in the eyes, the whole time. I don't even blink. I smile, he doesn't. His hands shake terribly, so bad he can barely hold the gun straight. I'm daring him to pull the trigger. Stupid I know but, calling his bluff is my only option now. If I tried to rush him or go for Lucas's gun, he could pull that trigger and I'd have no chance.

"Come on, think about this. We can walk right out that door, Veer. Right now."

"No."

"Well then shoot me you bastard! Go on! Do it!"

A shot rings out and I blink. I'm paralysed to the spot. I swallow hard and let out the breath I didn't realise I was holding. It happens in slow motion. Ernest Veer, in front of me. The gun drops from his hands, the smiles leaves his lips and he falls to the floor, dead. A bullet hole in his forehead. His brains and blood scatted on the wall beyond.

"Got you, you bastard."

I turn to see Lucas, propping himself up on one elbow, the smoking gun in his hand. The other hand is clutched to his chest, covered in blood. He struggles for breath as he stares at me and nods. There's relief in his eyes. He's taken his revenge. I drop to his side, speechless. He saved my life.

"I told you.... I get him, Harry. Harry?"

I don't know if it's the shock of what's just happened or the toll of everything that's happened over the course of these weeks, finally getting to me, but I burst into tears. And I weep like a little child. I can't stop. The next thing I know, Lucas is, trying, to punch my arm.

"Harry, no. No, you have to stop that. Now, you.... you need to be strong. Harry...."

"You saved me." I look down at him. "You saved my life."

"My absolution."

"What?"

"I killed you, Harry, your parents. Because I listened to Ernest Veer. But now, you can go.... be with the woman you love. L... live while you can." He coughs violently, as though he's choking – his is, on his own blood. "And I'm.... I'm sorry, Harry. Just.... do me one favour. Finish this – see it finished."

And that's that. He falls silent, motionless. I look down at him and swallow the tears. I caress his bloodstained face and use my fingers to close his eyes. And I just sit here, his lifeless body next to me, his blood stained hands in mine. I don't move at all. I'm paralysed.

TWENTY ONE: ONLY THE BEGINNING

"Harry, we're here."

I can still feel his blood on my hands – I must have scrubbed them at least ten times now, but still I can feel blood on them. I can still see him, laying next me in a pool of his own blood. And Veer, on the other side of the room, his brain matter scatted across the wall.

"Harry!"

I'm dragged from my daydream – nightmare more like – by Caitlin. We've arrived at Veer's warehouse. I don't really remember much of what happened after that showdown – it's all a blur really. Noise and.... blood. Shouting and questions.... We'll head back to the plant later, to tear it apart inch by inch. First his warehouse – if Lucas was telling the truth, there should be a bunker with a treasure trove of evidence. The others called in the IAEA to close off the area on Salisbury Plain – some of Sir Carter Anderson's trusted men. Men we can trust. Some of them are with us now, so that we can secure this area.

"Harry, are you sure you're ok?"

I look up. Caitlin is at my side holding the car door open. She's clearly worried about me. I just smile at her – a smile that doesn't stay on my lips long.

"Look, why don't you stay here, take a break."

"No, I'm alright. Just tired I guess. I didn't sleep on the way here."

The sun's just rising again – I haven't slept at all. We came straight from the plant to here, once all the formalities were taken care of. Once the press cameras had finished and the questions had been answered. But of course, people want to know more. The truth is, we still don't have all the answers.

"Harry, you've been through a lot. I think you should take a back seat on this one."

"I said," I push my way past her, "I'm fine."

She grabs my forearm and pulls me back. "Harry, you are not fine."

"Look, I promised Lucas that I would see this through. I promised him."

She looks into my eyes and we stay like this for a brief moment. With a heavy sigh, she swallows.

"You're not going to take no for an answer are you? Alright."

Carter's team goes on ahead – these guys are a heavily armed, well trained force. All former Special Force I believe. They're here to make sure that there are no more of Veer's hired guns to cause us problems. They've got the area secured, now they're advancing on the warehouse. Despite the fact that we're all armed and kitted out in Kevlar, we hang back. Only Caitlin goes on ahead with the team, and only because she's Military Intelligence. I watch them. They're so swift but silent – clearly professionals – sprinting across the open ground in seconds. They've made sure that nothing on their kit is going to give them away – everything's covered and or tucked away in pockets. They cover all the exits and wait. At exactly one minute past the hour, they attack. They smash the doors down with enforcers and pile in, screaming at the top of their lungs. We can't see what's going on, we can only hear. Lots of shouting and clattering. No gunshots though, thankfully, that means no resistance.

Less than ten minutes after the team made its entry, they're now emerging victorious, prisoners cuffed and in hand. The prisoners are rounded up and taken away from the warehouse. They are forced to their knees by the side of the road and are kept well covered. Caitlin sprints up to us, fiddling with her Kevlar vest. She's sweating like mad in all that kit – we all are, especially with this unusually hot weather for the time of the year. A huge, satisfied smirk hugs her lips, her whole face beams with excitement.

"Did they put up a fight?" Oakley asks, pointing to the prisoners.

"No, they didn't even have time to react. You should come and see what we've found. It's quite impressive."

We follow her inside. The warehouse is insignificant – apart from the odd crate, it's completely empty. The place is mess – debris of all kinds just strewn about the place. The cobwebs are just as thick as the dust. She leads us to an office at the back of the warehouse. Inside there's a ten inch thick steel door that has been blown up by Caitlin. It looks fairly dark inside and a flight of steel steps leads down into the depths. She motions for us to descend, that smile still firmly on her lips.

Lucas wasn't joking – it's a bunker alright. It's difficult to say just how big this place is. It's massive – it would take your breath away, just the sheer scale. We can't quite believe it ourselves, looking down. We're shell shocked even more when we see what's down here.

"There's your evidence, Oscar." Caitlin beams, leaning on the railings with her arms folded. "Mind you, it might take a while to go through it all."

How do I describe this? I'll try my best but.... Stacks, shelves, storage units – hundreds of them by the looks, maybe a thousand, more even it's hard to tell – all full of boxes, files, papers. Things Veer didn't want anyone to see, to even find. And not just him, his father, Chester's father, and more. Veer did say he was just a middleman and that there were more middlemen like him, hundreds, thousands more. This place is treasure trove of evidence alright. This is exactly what we've been looking for, hidden away, way out here in the Cumbrian countryside. Whoever Veer was working for, they've played their hand well. Successfully hidden the evidence, strategically placed their people in positions of unspeakable wealth and power. Making sure we'd have to run around like headless chickens to piece it all together, in the hope that we couldn't or that we'd give up when the going got tough. We've uncovered a culture of conspiracy and here's the proof. This goes way beyond the nuclear industry. It would have to – all these files can't surely be just about the nuclear industry. I suppose we'll find out.

"It seems...." I clear my throat. "We've got our work cut out."

"Yes, it does that."

We head down, onto the shop floor as it were. The shelves are stacked almost as high as the walls. I can't resist picking up one of files, brushing the thick dust away with the sleeve of my jacket. This one seems to pertain to the NHS. I read a few pages quickly.

"Hey!" I wait until the others are by my side before continuing. "Read this. Tell me I'm reading it wrong."

Caitlin takes the file from me and reads. When she's done, she looks up at us. Her face has drained of colour. So I didn't read it wrong. She clears her throat.

"Erm.... This says that erm.... it refers to organ donation. It seems to suggest that organs were taken without the permission of the deceased or their family, sold to the highest bidder. And not just bidders in the UK."

"That's what I though. I didn't read it wrong, did I?"

She shakes her head. "No. No, you read it right."

"There's another here." Dale falls silent as he reads. "This one goes on about jury tampering, police backhanders to turn blind eyes. The falsification of police reports concerning various incidents including RTC's, mysterious deaths." He can say no more. He looks up at us, his mouth hanging open.

Oakley sighs and runs his hand across his mouth. "So, it would appear that Lucas was telling us the truth."

"This is only one file, Oscar. There must be thousands down here. Just how far back does this go? How many are involved? Just how deep does this go?"

Caitlin picks up on my point. "What the hell have we gotten ourselves into here, Oscar?"

Before any of us can speak again, one of Carter's men rushes us to us. He salutes Caitlin before addressing Oakley.

"Sir, we've just had some news I think all of you should hear."

"What?"

"The Prime Minister, sir, he just resigned."

Again, we find ourselves speechless. We all take deep breaths and have to use the shelves for support as the news sinks in.

We're sat in the requisitioned church hall, an hour after our operation, sipping small glasses of whisky to try to tame the.... shock. The bunker is being taken apart as we speak, the archives taken to a secure location decided by Sir Carter Anderson. We haven't spoken about our findings or about the PM's resignation. It hasn't sunk in yet. It doesn't feel real yet. Everything Chester told us, everything Veer said to me in that control room – it's all real. It was the truth - there can be no denying that now. But still, there appear to be more questions than answers. Oakley marches over and sits himself down with a sigh.

"So as you know, the government is in chaos following the PM's resignation. What you don't know, is that the head of Her Majesty's security service has also resigned, effective immediately. We are expecting more resignations to follow. There's talk of an election to be held soon, but in the meantime, we are officially at a state of emergency."

"What does that mean?" I ask.

"It means we've officially caused a shitstorm." Caitlin blows out a breath. "And we haven't even started picking our way through those files yet."

Oakley watches us for a few moments, allowing the information to sink in before turning his attention to Caitlin.

"Speaking of those files, have you...."

"The evidence is being secured by our teams as we speak. They're taking it to the arranged location."

"Good. Because we have just officially been re-tasked. Our new orders are to investigate this culture of conspiracy, and bring the conspirators to justice. I know it goes deeper than our field, the nuclear industry, but we can't just leave this hanging open, we can't just hand this over to someone else. The leaders of all the mainstream political parties and the security services want us to continue our work - with their full cooperation of course. Sir Carter Anderson and his colleagues have agreed, and so do I. This is far from over."

"Veer said he was a middleman – that they all were, are."

"Then we need to find out who is running this."

"Where do we start?" Caitlin asks then laughs. "There's a lot to go over. This is messed up. This goes way beyond the nuclear industry, politics even. Oscar, we really don't know who we can and can't trust – now more than ever. I don't know if I can trust my colleagues in the military even."

"I know. It's a shit sandwich and it won't be easy, but what choice do we have? We started this. We have to finish it."

"So where do we start?"

"Salisbury Plain – the plant, the apparent dumping of hazmat waste. Carter thinks the plant is, was being used for something else. Initial scans of the complex appear to show some sort of underground network."

"It's like something out of a fiction book." Caitlin mutters.

"I can assure you it is very real," he sighs. "We need to start trawling through that evidence too. Hopefully it'll flag up some names."

"We're back to square one, aren't we? In the dark. More questions than answers."

"So Veer was right." I look up as all eyes fall on me. "This is only the beginning."

Only the beginning. What will we find? Will we succeed? Or will we end up like Lucas Chester, Andrew Tate, Alison Cain and so many others. Veer said these people, were more powerful than any Prime Minister could ever be. Who are they? And what will we be forced into, forced to do to stay safe, to stay ahead of this game? More importantly, where will it end?

To be continued...
