Echo
The worst thing, Tom thought as he allowed Zoe to hustle him into the car, the worst thing about it all was the noise. It echoed in his ears still - mingling with the pounding of his heart and the noise rising in his throat every time he tried not to throw up.
Zoe took him straight to Thames House. "I've already disobeyed one set of orders today. Harry'll want to see you straight away."
Tom knew that. He knew procedures, he knew the rules. He knew the odds of dying on an op and how they increased if you happened to be found out.
Knowing it didn't make the sounds go away. It didn't stop the bile building in his throat. "Pull over," he choked, grabbing at Zoe's arm, "pull over!"
Zoe turned into a side road, slowing the car to a stop and turning the engine off, She turned to look at Tom. "Tell me. What happened?"
Tom winced at her bluntness, at her curiosity. "We were found out."
"How could . . ."
"Because of me. Or Helen. Or the guys who screwed up trying to bug the place. Or the blasted reporter trying to get his big scoop. Could have been anyone really; he was a suspicious bastard."
"And Helen? How did they . . . ?" Zoe looked down, the moonlight reflecting off her hair. "I mean, what did they . . . ? Did they shoot her?"
"Yeah, he shot her. Eventually." Tom laughed, surprised that such a cold, brittle sound could come from his lips. He looked away from Zoe and wondered if his training would hold up, if he would finish talking before he broke down. And what if it did? What would it mean if he didn't cry? What would it say about the man he'd become?
"Eventually?" Zoe pushed her hair away from her face. "Tom, I don't understand."
"There was a fryer. A deep fryer. They thought I'd talk if they shoved Helen's arm in it. A fucking deep fryer and her arm and I wouldn't tell them anything. So they decided deep frying her face would be an appropriate mode or torture, and quick pathway to death. They shot her almost immediately after that." His voice was dull and at that moment he hated himself. "I can't get the noise out of my head, Zoe. I can't make it go away."
Zoe's hands were pressed against her eyes, and Tom wondered if she was crying, if she was a better human being than he was. Then she exhaled heavily and it was obvious she was becoming as cold and emotionless as him. She leant forward to start the car. "We do what we have to, Tom, to get the job done."
"Well we didn't get the job done this time, did we? We lost everything and gained absolutely nothing."
Zoe pulled out, back on the main road. "We've still got you." She said, stumbling slightly over her words.
"Thank you." His voice was weaker than he intended and for a moment he thought he might not be a heartless bastard after all.
It was too hard to know anymore.