Kidnapped.

Sasha had been milling over the thought for a while. Because who in their right mind would kidnap Catherine Standish?

Lamb returned to Slough House shortly after River had disappeared, confirming the theory. The man on the pub CCTV seemed to be their best lead. And the call River had received might be their closest hint to solving anything – if he ever picked up his fucking phone.

It was almost midday when Marcus and Shirley entered the staffroom. Sasha was pacing the width back and forth, fingernails tapping aggressively against her phone screen. Roddy, meanwhile, was making a protein shake.

"She's been kidnapped ?" Shirley asked disbelievingly.

"That's what Lamb's saying," Roddy answered,  scooping powder into his cup.

"By who?" Marcus pressed. "What do they want?"

"No idea, but we've got CCTV images, so we're trying to get an ID," Sasha informed, coming to a stop in front of the pair. She glanced up from her phone. "River thinks the suspect might have been following Catherine yesterday."

"You'd have to ask Cartwright, though," Roddy added. "He got a message, supposedly from Standish, then he ran out like a whippet with a chilli up its arse."

"What's Lamb doing about it?"

"More than you two," Lamb stated, striding into the office. He went straight to the window and peered cautiously through the gap in the blinds. "I watched you come in, in case you were being followed. Save you the bother."

"We'd have known if we had," Marcus insisted.

"Nah. Yeah, there was no one on you as it happens, but these people are good." Lamb stepped away from the window. "I think they're out there."

Sasha glanced down at the street. There was a woman loitering around the bus stop; two big, black bin liners in front of her. A man smoking in the shop doorway. People wandered past, but nothing out of the ordinary.

"Call 999," Lamb instructed. "Give 'em the address and tell them that there's some guy out here on the street, waving his dick at passersby." He sighed, crossing the room. "They followed Standish from here to AA. And they knew that Cartwright–" Lamb paused, pulling out a half-empty pack of cigarettes from his top pocket. "– was gonna be here when they contacted him. They probably have the whole building under surveillance and a tap on the phones." He pointed back at the window. "Get out there. Tail anyone who moves from the café to the bus stop opposite the minute after the call goes in."

"How long should we follow for?" Shirley asked.

Cigarette placed between his teeth, Lamb replied, "Until we can work out who they are and what they want." He lit the cigarette. Sasha shared a glance with Marcus and Shirley. She assumed that was the natural conclusion to his spiel. Not wanting to waste any time, they headed out the room. "Keep your distance!"

"Police please. Yeah, I'm at 152 Aldersgate street and there's a man outside with his dick in one hand and a gun in the other, shouting about God telling him to kill."

—

The street was busy. Swarmed with kids in uniforms, white shirts untucked and ties askew – they must have just been let out of school. An old lady shuffled past them, a brown walking stick in hand. Sasha watched closely to make sure they wouldn't bother her. Kids were assholes.

Sasha spared a brief glance at her phone. Still nothing from River. As the thought crossed her mind, the device buzzed in her hands, and she almost got excited until she spotted Lamb's name flashing up in bold on the screen. She swiped across to answer the call.

"Prick in a baseball cap. Bus stop," Lamb said. Sasha shifted her weight, subtly turning her head. She located the target, wearing a black cap, as described, and a bomber jacket. "And don't spook them. They could lead us to Standish."

"Roger that."

Lamb hung up.

Sasha shoved her phone in her jeans pocket and peeled away from the wall. Across the road, Shirley caught her attention and frowned. Sasha motioned her head in the suspect's direction. Shirley seemed to understand.

They followed him down the street; Shirley directly behind, whilst Sasha took a more careful distance and Marcus went from...in front? Sasha couldn't figure that logic out.

The crossing beeped, flashing green. Sasha stepped into the road, blending with the moving crowd. She darted across the pavement and cut down a side street.

Her phone vibrated. She fished it out, Shirley's name on the screen this time. "Where are you going?"

"I'm cutting him off. Just stay on–"

"Shit!"

The call dropped out.

Sasha immediately took off running. She knew the back streets well enough, had gotten familiar with them over last year. Sasha hoped that Marcus and Shirley had taken sensible directions, as there would only be several routes the target could use.

The cobbles were challenging to navigate with such urgency. She stumbled through a narrow alleyway, arm stinging as her bare skin scuffed against the brick wall. Sasha was led straight into the road, a loud horn and a vehicle in her peripheral prompting her to flinch back onto the path. Fucking hell. She crossed behind the car and made a sharp turn left, down another side street, and then another and then–

"Fuck!"

Sasha slammed into something hard. In fact, two something's hard.

The force knocked her on the ground where, after overcoming the initial pain in her tailbone, she groaned upon the sight of Marcus and Shirley collapsed beside her.

"Fuck's sake."

"Nice one."

Sasha scrambled onto her hands and knees, "Keep going!"

Barely stopping to catch her breath, Sasha shook herself off and picked up the pace again. She hurtled directly down the street, where she spotted the target ahead. Sasha diverted through a slim gap, nearly smacking into a disgruntled looking man in a posh business suit. She twisted to dodge him, skimming past his shoulder.

"Oi!"

"Sorry!"

Regaining her balance, she made a sharp right, and then another, through the bustling main square to reach the bridge, mere seconds before a breathless Shirley arrived.

Above them, their target rushed across the bridge, Marcus close on his tail. The women hurried to intercept, tearing down the alleyway, and almost knocking several people over as they barged through.

But they were too late.

By the time they reached them, a black vehicle was already speeding down the road, leaving Marcus doubled over on the ground.

Sasha stumbled to a stop, hands on her knees as she breathed heavily.

Then appeared the last person they wanted to see after such a catastrophic screw up. "I told you to keep your bloody distance, not scare him off like a pigeon!" Lamb heckled.

Sasha threw her head back with a groan. Her throat was tight, almost acidic, maybe the taste of metal? It felt like blood, or she was about to throw up. Jesus, was she that unfit? Nowadays, she was used to shuffling papers, not running through the streets of London.

Shirley recovered first, making a feeble attempt of jogging over to Lamb. He strolled down the road, phone pressed to his ear. "I got the plate," Shirley offered a saving grace. " Lamb ," she prompted.

But her paid her no mind. Instead, Lamb simply told the person on the other end of the phone, "I need to do some laundry."

Sasha tried not to collapse.

All she could hope was that River and Louisa were having more luck.

—

Having retreated defeatedly to Slough House, the agents were cramped into the downstairs office. Sasha stood in the corner, arms folded as she watched Ho's fingers skim his light-up keyboard.

"You run the plates?" Marcus asked.

He took a sip of his protein shake. "It's fake."

Perched on the edge of her desk, Shirley pointed out, "Why Lamb didn't stop to get it."

"Where did he disappear to then?" Marcus questioned.

"He's got nothing to go on," Ho said.

"Can we find out who faked the plates?" Marcus pressed.

Ho sighed, span in his chair to face him. "There's about 500 people on the dark web who offer that service, and they won't know who they sold it to. Why am I having to explain this?" He turned back around. "This must be how Jesus felt, surrounded by dickheads."

"Yeah, and he was famously hated by everyone who met him."

Metal clanged, the back door crashed open.

Sasha's head perked up. She leaned out the doorway to take a look. It was Louisa. She shifted across to make room for her.

Louisa walked inside, dropping a file on Ho's desk. "Uh, a hire car was left outside the café where Catherine was snatched. Those are the details of the guy who hired it."

Ho scoffed. "What, you think the kidnapper signed their real name and address? Sean Donovan. Pfft." He dangled the folder behind him to discard it, but Marcus snatched and opened it before he could.

"Well, it's something to go on, isn't it?" Louisa defended.

"That's nothing to go on, babes."

Sasha outwardly cringed on Louisa's behalf. "Ew."

"Babes?"

Fortunately for him, there was no time to delve deeper into that. The computer chimed with a notification. They crammed around the desk to read it.

"Is that the van?" Marcus asked.

"Shut up about the fucking van!" Ho snapped.

Marcus used the folder to smack Ho on the back of the head. "You should be tracking it."

"I am tracking it," he insisted. "But after you spooked them, they'll have swapped the fake plates for a new set."

"Well, what's that ping then?"

"Cartwright," Ho answered. "He turned his phone on."

Sasha straightened up, patting down her pockets. "Where?"

Ho sat back. "The Park."

Sasha sighed. "Of course. Call Lamb."

"Why me?"

"Just do it," she barked.

Sasha unlocked her phone and scrolled down her contacts, selecting River (Dickhead) 🌊 The phone rang several times, but she was greeted with the dial tone and a voicemail message, to which she simply honoured with an "answer your fucking phone right now," and disconnected.

Roddy had his mobile pressed to his ear. "Cartwright's at the Park," he told Lamb.

"What the fuck is he doing at the Park?"

"Search me," Roddy responded. Lamb asked something Sasha couldn't hear. "Yeah, and now he's AWOL in the building."

A few seconds later, he put down the device and turned his attention to the computer.

"Name and address check out," Louisa spoke, holding up her phone.

"Yeah, right," Ho said disbelievingly.

"Let's see who this is."

"We'll stake out the address," Shirley offered, motioning to Marcus. He nodded in acknowledgement and they got up to leave.

"Wait, it's my lead!" Louisa protested.

"Not a lead," Ho remarked.

"Please don't leave us with Ho!" Louisa called after them, but Shirley and Marcus didn't stop.

Fair enough. Sasha would've taken any opportunity to get out of there too.

Louisa tapped her phone aggressively. Then she made a small noise of triumph, and turned it around to show Sasha a screen full of profiles. At the top, Sean Donovan. The name on the hire car. And the man matching the exact CCTV capture.

"Shit, that's him."

Smugly, Louisa shoved it in front of Ho. "Still think it's a fake ID?"

"So I made a mistake." Ho faced her, giving her the eyes. "I'm vulnerable."

Sasha pulled an expression of disgust. Gross.

She stepped out of the room, intending to dial River again, but her phone rang instead.

Jack Pearce.

Fucks sake. Sasha was used to receiving calls from her former colleague, but not so early in the day.

She pressed the green icon to answer.

"Little busy for a booty call, thanks."

"Yeah, me too," Jack replied, surly as ever. Sasha could imagine him, sat in his stupid glass box office, pristine navy blue suit, flashy silver Rolex on his wrist. "Been looking for one of your Slow Horses gone rogue in the Park."

"Ah."

"So you know where he is?" Jack asked presumptuously.

"What, you think we have a tracker on him? Like he's a dog or something?" Sasha retorted, then took a moment to consider the thought. "Actually, that's a good idea. Why's Lamb never thought of that?"

"This isn't a joke. He's in some serious shit," Jack insisted. "Just gave Hobbs the slip, stole his pass, apparently he's now in the basement. If the Dogs get hold of him–"

"Why would–" Sasha interrupted herself. "Why would he be in the basement?"

"No clue, just a load of shit in there, so he'll fit right in."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever, nice one. But what the hell could he be looking for?"

"Knowing him, probably something that's not even there."

Sasha tuned out. Because whilst it would be easier to brush it off as River indulging in his usual shenanigans, there was often a reason behind his idiocy.

She traced back to the phone call he had received. Catherine's alleged kidnappers had targeted Slough House, chosen her, and then River, but why? Lamb seemed convinced they must have a decent level of knowledge about him, about Standish, and Slough House. So an inside job? A current agent? A former one?

Had they given River an ultimatum? Retrieve an item at the Park or Standish dies? But not all dodgy files worth stealing were at the Park, because Diana Tavener was a shady bitch and that was exactly why Sasha and River's office had been filled to the brim with boxes needing to be itemised. So Jack's snarky comment had a point to it – whatever River was looking for, might not even be there. Fuck.

Why would the kidnappers send in a Slow Horse, of all people, to do that job though? It was literally setting him up to fail, like–

Oh.

Maybe it was supposed to fail.

Did they want River caught? Did they want  something bad to happen to him? Did they want him dead? Like, Sasha could understand that, but oh my God this was bad.

"Fuck."

"Yeah, well Cartwright's really in the shit if the Dogs get to him."

"Have any of you considered this could be a set up?" Sasha questioned. She straightened up, beginning to stalk the corridor back and forth, working the hypothesis through her head. It made so much sense, but zero sense all at once. Either River was being played, or someone desperately wanted a lame file that they were prepared to kill Catherine over. But there had to be a reason they were holding her and targeting him. "There's something bigger at play here. Can you buy him some time before the Dogs step in?"

"I dunno, I'd enjoy seeing 'em beat the crap out the cocky prick."

"Jack–"

"Molly won't let the Dogs anywhere near the basement, that should hold them off," he conceded. "But they'll be out for blood after this. A Slow Horse infiltrating the Park  doesn't look good."

"No, it doesn't," Sasha agreed. "Maybe you should tighten up your security?"

Jack let out a half-hearted chuckle. "Yeah, yeah. Whatever. Anyway–" Sasha knew what was coming, could  sense his grin "You free tonight?"

"No. Bye."

Sasha hung up and quickly dialled River's number. It rang three times before crackling, his voice coming through a little panicked. "Hey, uh, kinda busy at the moment!"

Paper rustled in the background. A thud. A phone was ringing incessantly. He must have still been in the basement, which was sort-of a good sign – not been caught yet.

"Fucking finally!" Sasha snapped. "What the fuck are you doing in the basement?"

"How– how do you know where I am?"

"Not important. What are you after?"

"Uh– it's, uh, the PM's vetting files. Fuck's sake, can't find anything in this place."

Sasha hesitated, slightly disappointed by his answer. "Oh. That's much less exciting than I expected."

"Yeah, well, they threatened to kill Catherine. Spider's sister too. So if I don't get these damn files– "

"Woah, woah, back up," Sasha interrupted. "Spider's involved in this?"

"They took his sister."

"Nah." Sasha shook her head. "Nope. I don't like this. You need to get out of there."

River let out a frustrated groan. "I can't just leave, Catherine's life is at stake!"

"Listen to me, yeah? I think you've been set up. I don't know who took Catherine but I think they're using her, to use you in–  I don't have time to explain, but imagine a game of chess, and you're like a...like a prawn–"

"–Pawn," he corrected.

"Oh my God, does it even matter?! Just get out of there!"

" Cartwright!" She heard another woman shout. Must have been Molly Doran. Sasha had only had the pleasure of meeting her a handful of times, but she could be quite terrifying when necessary. "Phone, now ."

"Sash, I gotta go," River said. "Are you sure about this?"

"I'm, like, eighty percent certain."

"Jesus Christ," he muttered. "You're gonna be the death of me one day, Hartley."

"Let's hope it's not today!"