The sense of unease grew the closer Erin got to Whitehall. One didn't ignore a direct summons from the Home Secretary. She wasn't nervous or awestruck; she had met William Towers several times before joining Section D and knew what to expect. Her unease had more to do with what they undoubtedly would be talking about. She was ushered in nearly immediately by a smart-looking young woman she recognized from the funeral. The highly polished door was barely shut behind her when she realized what exactly about this place set her on edge: Erin couldn't stand the calm. There was something about the hushed voices and plush carpet that made her grateful for the organized chaos of the Grid. At least there you didn't feel like you were working in a museum.

"Miss Watts, please sit down," Towers said.

A tea tray appeared from seemingly out of nowhere.

"How is he?"

She thought for a moment. In any other circumstance the question could be seen as innocuous, a mere conversation starter. But this reminded her more of a stick of dynamite being thrown into the middle of the room.

"As you'd expect, Home Secretary. It's only been two weeks..."

He fixed his eyes on her, and she knew that he hadn't summoned her all the way here to give him some boilerplate response.

"Operationally, he's sharp. Fierce, even."

He considered as he poured the tea into the cups.

"Yes. I've read the briefing. Nasty piece of work."

Erin wasn't sure if he was referring to the terrorists, or her boss's handling of the subsequent interrogation.

"How is he doing, personally?"

"What do you think?" Her voice was much sharper than she intended.

She had expected she would lose colleagues, it was the nature of the job. But she wasn't as prepared for losing two of them, both she would have considered friends, within such a short time. She chose her words carefully.

"There's no doubt he's hurting. He hasn't confided in me, so I'm not entirely sure I can tell you anything beyond generalities."

Towers seemed unimpressed.

"Listen. I know about this so-called "spooks' code", so you can stop trying to protect him. I appreciate your loyalty - up to a point. I need to know, and I need to know now, if I made a mistake in letting Harry Pearce come back. I certainly don't need to tell you how many lives may depend on it."

She wondered how much she should tell. Like that she hasn't seen him eat or drink anything at all since he's been back, including during some sixteen hour days. Or that she doubts that he's sleeping much, if at all. That he's on the Grid before anyone else in the morning and the last one to leave in the evening. That every few days he disappears for an hour or so and no one knows where he's been.

It was true that Harry had not confided in her, and she would've been very surprised if he had. She already felt in some way that she was imposing, having been a witness to Ruth's final moments. What happened in those twelve minutes would stay with her the rest of her life, and she could only just imagine how much it haunted Harry.

"Tring, do you think?" Towers' question brought her back to the present.

"No. I think the job is the only thing he's living for right now."

"Somehow that's not very reassuring to me, Miss Watts."

"As I said, operationally, he's fine. He just needs some time, Home Secretary."

"Starting now, I want frequent updates from you...about Harry. Anything, and I mean anything, that is going to jeopardize our security, I want to know about it...immediately."

"Yes, Home Secretary."