The Spying Game

Chapter Eight

Chapter Eight

Lucas's main problem was malnutrition and he spent the first week back home in hospital. Many of his wounds were infected and poorly treated, so they gave him high doses of broad spectrum antibiotics and did the best they could to close his wounds up properly.

No one from MI5 was waiting for him and he began to wonder about that. If nothing else they should have come to make sure he wasn't a threat, that he hadn't been turned, that he wasn't going to go to the newspapers and tell all. At the very least he should have been debriefed.

On the third day he was feeling much stronger and was taken to see a physiotherapist, due to some slight muscle atrophy he had suffered. The therapist went through various exercises he could do to help rebuild his muscle mass and gave him detailed instruction sheets to take away with him. By the end of the hour, Lucas was exhausted, yet he had hardly done anything!

As he walked back to his room, he could already feeling his muscles protesting after their workout, and it was probably that fact which kept him from noticing Harry as he approached his room.

"Lucas."

He turned to the voice and saw Harry blanch slightly.

"I know I look a mess but I didn't think it was that bad," Lucas joked, but his voice lacked it's usual warmth when he was joking.

Harry smiled slightly but more out of politeness that humour.

"How are you?" he asked.

"I'm fine," Lucas assured him.

"You don't look fine. In fact I'd say you look like you've been to hell and back."

"Well, they didn't exactly take kindly to finding me trespassing in their complex. You know what sticklers these Russians can be for etiquette."

"Lucas-"

"Harry!" Lucas cut him off. "We both knew how this would end and I walked into this with my eyes open. It wasn't a summer camp but then again, I wasn't expecting it to be. I completed my mission, that's what matters."

"Yes, you did," Harry acknowledged. "Well done."

Lucas looked into Harry's eyes as he said that, wondering if he meant it. Lucas wanted to ask about returning to section D but he wasn't ready to hear a rejection, so he kept quiet.

Harry had already asked the nursing staff about him and they had informed him that Lucas was malnourished, dehydrated and suffering from numerous cuts and abrasions and a few second and third degree burns. However they assured him that Lucas should quickly recover from those symptoms. His biggest problems seemed to be psychological and even with sedatives, his sleep was disturbed.

"I can't imagine what you went through, Lucas, but... I hope you know that I'm proud of you."

"Proud?" Lucas laughed.

There was a time when he would have given anything to hear those words from Harry but now... now things were different. He was different. He didn't go to Russia because Harry asked him to. He didn't go because he wanted to work for MI5 again. He went because someone had to and he knew that he stood the best chance.

"I arranged to have someone killed, Harry, that's not exactly one for the scrapbook."

"Because you had to, and you did so at great personal cost. The act itself might have been distasteful but your bravery is undeniable."

Lucas looked away, too choked with conflicting emotions to know exactly how he felt right now.

"I know you doubted that my offer to rejoin us was genuine, and I suppose in a way it was. I never expected you to make it out alive and I couldn't see the harm in giving you some comfort."