AUTHOR'S NOTE:  Events in the following two chapters occur during Spooks/MI5 Season 7.1, when Lucas North returns to London after eight years in a Russian prison.  Prior to that, Lucas had been section chief of Section D "Counter-Terrorism Unit" of MI5.  After his capture in Moscow, Tom Quinn succeeded him and after Tom's early retirement, Adam Carter filled the role of Section Chief.

Events in chapters 1 and 2 (apart from the recollections) occur between S7.1 and S7.2.

Oh yes!  There's now a fanfic trailer, too!  

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Don't tell me the moon is shining; show me the glint of light on broken glass.  

-Anton Chekhov 

The first time she saw him, he was walking along Regent street, his hands in his coat pockets and his head down, deep in thought. She had stared at him for a minute, trying to register the face, the aquiline nose, the thin lips, the dark hair slicked in a sideways part. But it was the haunted expression on his face that gave him away, and when he looked up, as if sensing that someone was watching him, she knew.

The moment she said his name in her mind was the same moment that he saw her, his eyes widening as he recognized her face in the crowd. Alexa George turned her gaze downwards and crossed the street, the light flashing, indicating that the time to cross was over. She ran, her heart beating inside her chest, feeling as if it were about to burst out of her thick woolen coat. Her breath came out in bursts of steam in the air before her.

Alexa stopped and ducked into a darkened alley, catching her breath. She felt sweat gather upon her brow and her breath came in heaves, the taste of bile filling her mouth.  It felt like a kick to the stomach, seeing him again. Seeing him alive. It had only been what, nine years?

Alexa peered around the corner. The crowd of shoppers milled about, lost in their own lives, shopping for the latest accessory, not noticing her at all. She scanned the crowd, her eyes alighting upon each face but no longer seeing him. She took a few minutes to keep looking, making sure, as she caught her breath and forced herself to calm down, forcing her mind to think thoughts that had nothing to do with the man she had just seen.  What could she occupy her mind with? The latest fashion? Shoes? Puppies?

But it was useless. His face invaded her thoughts - alive, breathing, walking along Regent Street, his face cast downwards.

Lucas North.

Only he'd used a different name when Alexa first met him in Moscow so many years ago. It was a time in her life which Alexa wished she could no longer remember, for she could not afford to relive it, not even for an instant. But against her will, the memories came rushing in, engulfing her, and Alexa felt faint as she left the alley and began stumbling towards home.

But as if a dam that held her memories hidden for so long had been breached, the memories returned.  Alexa remembered the way he had looked at her from the darkened hallway of the club, his blue gray eyes searching her face, studying it as he suppressed any sign that he knew her.  But she saw the look in his eyes - that glimpse of recognition.

Then, as the Russian next to him asked him which of his beauties he preferred, his expression turned into a sneer and for a moment, she thought that what she had first glimpsed in his eyes had been all an illusion. Blind foolish hope.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

She'd been eighteen then, housed along with ten other girls in an upstairs apartment of a club where women and under-age girls danced for and served men of power.  It was a place where the powerful Mikhael Lubienko conducted business.  Lubienko, a peddler of information, drugs and women.  

Including her.

He took her while she was vacationing with three friends in Paris six months earlier.  She'd been separated from her friends while visiting a crowded street festival and while she found a man wearing a police uniform to help her, who spoke flawless French like she did, he only shoved her into a dark van and changed her life forever.  

There were four other girls with her inside that van, huddled like scared animals as the Mikhael and the men laughed at them.  And all the way to Moscow they drove them, taking them by force at every stop though Mikhael exerted his claim on her - no one could touch her but him, he told his men.  And so they didn't.  But that didn't mean that she was immune from the things the other girls were forced to do, even with the drugs he pumped into her so she wouldn't care - still, she had to do bad things, terrible things.

Mikhael had stripped them all of their dignity and humanity, but even such thoughts only served to pull them down further for there was no escape from their plight. And so Alexa played his game, and to survive, she lied about enjoying everything, even the pain.

It was in Moscow that she told Mikhael that she didn't need him to give her the drugs, that she liked what he did to her, the things he wanted her to do to him - the sex.  It was a lie, of course. How could anyone like the pain and humiliation of being treated like a plaything - with no regard for anything else?

Alexa needed to be aware of her surroundings, to see and hear everything. She needed to find a way to escape. Though Mikhael still injected her with the drugs, he began to do it less and less, and soon she was his favorite. But then, Alexa had always been his favorite, his English princess.

To Alexa, it was a much better fate than that of the other girls who, after taking the drugs for so long even just so they could dance for the men, and more when they needed to have sex with them, were left too addicted that they sought it, craved it, and would do anything to get it.

No, Alexa knew she needed to have her wits about her if she wanted to escape. She knew she had to keep her dream alive and fight and fight and fight. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Lucas North's name then had been Dimitri.

He had come into the club along with a local man whose name Alexa couldn't remember, and when she overheard them saying they were looking for the "exotic ones", Dimitri pointed his finger at her with a leer on his face.

Though Mikhael at that time had kept her away from the club while she recuperated from the worst beating he had ever given her weeks earlier, it was the high price the men were willing to pay for her that made Mikhael order her to come over. Mikhael never said no to money.

Alexa had danced in the main room for Dimitri first, watching him take a sip of vodka as his eyes traveled up and down her barely sheathed body. The main room was crowded with men slumped on couches, drinking and watching the girls entertain them as they danced and slithered on poles installed throughout the room. Some of them were onstage, stripping to the loud music.

Yet some of the men gathered together in the corner, talking business, something that happened almost every night, the women here mere distractions from the business at hand. They often spoke about shipments of drugs, street prices, and money. Policemen, sitting in the club, chose to ignore such talk, swearing that they heard of no such thing.

As long as the women were free and the drink and drugs flowed for as long as required to make them happy, the local police stayed deep in Mikhael's pockets.

Dimitri studied her as she danced in front of him, his brows often knitted in concentration as if he were thinking of something else entirely. So unlike most men who came in here looking for some fun, Alexa thought. Speaking in Russian, he asked her for her name and Alexa gave him the one Mikhael had given her. Kitten.

Mikhael strolled over to talk to Dimitri about random things, making small talk as he usually did among his guests, encouraging them to spend more money in his club. When Mikhael left to attend to the group of men huddled in his favorite corner of the club, Dimitri returned his attention to Alexa. Then he beckoned her to come closer.

"I want you alone," he said in Russian. She took him into her assigned room to take care of him as she was supposed to do with all customers who requested her, but when Alexa begun unbuttoning his shirt, he stopped her.

"No, kitten," he said, taking her hands and moving it away from his chest. "You do not need to."

She stared at him with a hope that she'd almost abandoned just weeks earlier when Mikhael had discovered she had tried to escape and he beat her within an inch of her life. She searched Dimitri's face. Had it all been a dream - the look she had seen in his eyes when he had first seen her?

She lowered her eyes, feeling her face heat up, the feeling of shame rushing through.

"What is your name?" He asked and Alexa's eyes snapped up to meet his, startled.

This time he spoke in English, his voice low as not to be heard by anyone close by, even with the door closed. The look in his eyes betrayed his cover, and for the first time since Alexa had been taken, she let her guard down, and prayed that this time, her intuition was right. He had come for her.

"Alexa George," Alexa said, staring at him, her eyes wide with trepidation. The sound of his voice sent shivers up and down her spine, the words he had just asked her holding so much promise, so much hope.

Something thumped against the door outside and Alexa jumped. The sound of people laughing, their footsteps fading as they walked the past the room filled the air that had become heavy with her fear.

"Are you alright?" He asked her and she nodded, too afraid to speak, afraid her body and her voice would betray her, her eyes brimming with tears.

His hand traced a bruise beneath her eye, hidden by make up but visible under the light of the lone bulb that illuminated the room. He could see that she was missing a tooth, thankfully not where it could be seen at first glance, though it did nothing to mar her beauty.

He understood now why Mikhael called him his prized possession, his princess. His face clouded and he shook his head again when Alexa moved her hands towards his shirt the second time.

"You must let me do something," she whispered, glancing at the door behind her, afraid that Mikhael would come in, unannounced after seeing her gone from the main room.

Next door, they could hear the sound of moans and bodies slapping together. Alexa turned towards the cheap stereo next to the bed, raising the volume. "Sometimes, they come in to make sure we are doing our job."

Reluctantly, he let go of her hands, allowing her to slowly unbutton his black shirt, his skin creamy smooth underneath. She remembered seeing the pulse beating against his neck, his body tensing beneath her touch. She remembered now how she had fixated on that pulse, the throbbing beneath his skin. She focused on it, anchor to an elusive ship she called hope.

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The flash of a tourist's lightbulb blinded Alexa for a moment and she staggered, suddenly remembering where she was. The tourist apologized and promptly forgot her, directing his partner to stand in front of the Victoria Secret store behind her. Alexa had walked in front of the camera just as he had clicked the shutter.

The crowds had thinned now as she walked the streets towards home, the memory filling her mind. The sidewalk before her seemed to fade as if she were dreaming, as if she were sleepwalking.

Alexa hurried towards her flat, slamming the door behind her and bolting the locks. It had been over nine years since that night and still, the memories made her weak, her stomach threatening to rebel at the thought of the things she'd had to do all those months imprisoned in Moscow.

Those six months had aged her. It had taken away her innocence.

Alexa turned to face her reflection in the mirror on the foyer, her green eyes wide and scared. She never thought the sight of Lucas now, so many years later, would bring back so much of the memories she'd tried so hard to suppress. She had thought him to be dead, believed him to be dead.

It was the only way to keep the memories from returning.

But as she stared at herself in the mirror, the memories all returned, unbidden and unforgiving. She began to cry as she allowed herself to collapse onto the floor next to her console table, burying her face in her hands.

Seeing Lucas had opened that artery, the one leading to the darkest recesses of her soul where Alexa had thrust the demons within to conceal them, keeping them away from sight. But now the artery had been sliced wide open, and there was nothing she could do to stop the blood from flowing.

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When she unbuttoned his shirt, Dimitri let her remove it, slipping it down his shoulders. It was a gentle gesture, like the movement of a tentative lover. But Alexa knew it was her nerves that now led her every move, hoping against all hope that this man, whoever he was, could finally save her.

"They are suspicious of any foreigner who comes here looking for an English girl like me. It's a miracle you managed to do it," Alexa said. "You have to be very careful."

There was no shortage of supply when it came to little girls and teen-agers willing to travel where there was money, or worse, sold by their own families. Or if they were beautiful enough, neither were they safe enough from Mikhael's men.

Such had been Alexa's fate.

Mikhael had seen her with her friends in Paris and followed her for two days before making his move, bribing a local thug to impersonate a police man. She'd been a fool to believe in the saying "safety in numbers" for there was no such thing, that Alexa knew now. All it took was a pickpocket at a street festival, unruly crowds and she had been lost without her purse, phone, or her passport.

Just then, the door burst open and they both spun around to see a burly man standing by the door, a bottle of whiskey in his hand.

"You like her, Dimitri?" Mikhael asked, and Dimitri responded in the affirmative, sounding almost annoyed at the intrusion. Mikhael took a step forward and brought his hand around Alexa's back, caressing it, and Alexa's skin prickled. "She's my best girl. My princess."

She suppressed a shiver, keeping her eyes down. The room was too small for the three of them, the only pieces of furniture were the bed and a nightstand.

Lucas did not speak.

"We make sure that our guests enjoy their entertainment here, especially with my most prized one of all," Mikhael said, taking a swig from his whiskey. He leaned against the door, showing no sign of leaving. "You enjoying my little princess, Dimitri? You're not thinking of taking her away from me, are you?"

Dimitri laughed, shaking his head. His hands gripped Alexa's waist tightly as she remained standing in front of him.

"That's stupid, Mik," he said, but the tone of his voice had shifted. "Why would I want to do such a thing?" His voice lowered, and his eyes narrowed into slits as he looked at Alexa. Be strong, his eyes said.

Behind her, Mikhael crossed his arms over his chest, still leaning on the door frame. "So get on with it, my new friend," he chuckled, closing the door behind him and pulling out the gun that had been tucked behind his waist. "I forgot to tell you, Dimitri. I like to watch."

He added something in Russian that Alexa did not understand but she felt Dimitri's body stiffen at the threat directed towards him. Alexa stared at Dimitri, her eyes wide, a caged bird seeing no escape. There was no other choice left for either of them. Not now.

Dimitri said something back to Mikhael, smiling stiffly as he stood up and unbuckled his jeans. Alexa could no longer understand what they were saying, the rushing sound in her ears was deafening as she fought the urge to throw up.

Dimitri grabbed Alexa by the waist and pulled her towards him, setting her down upon his lap as he sat on the bed, his back against wall, propped up by pillows. He pulled her towards him, kissing her lips angrily, the sound of their breathing the only sounds in the room as Mikhael turned the radio off.

Dimitri yanked the straps of the flimsy summer dress off Alexa's shoulders, exposing her breasts, his hands cupping them and squeezing them roughly. Alexa watched his face change. This was work now, she thought. Work for him and for her. Maybe he had come to save her, but for now, her escape was not to be. And for Dimitri, this act, this conscious violation of her was going to be part of his job, and she could see in his eyes that he was repulsed by it.

He was cold and methodical in his actions, and Alexa pulled herself out of her body, the way she always did when she had to do the things Mikhael and his men made her do. Only this time, she kept getting dragged back, forced to look into Dimitri's blue-gray eyes as they penetrated her very core.

Mikhael stayed for the entire performance, for that was what it was - a performance - at times savage as Dimitri's anger made its way into his lovemaking, as if such a word could be used for it. The entire time he had stared into her eyes and she had stared back at him, not wanting to let go of his gaze, for fear that he might falter in his unspoken promise and not come back for her. He had become her beacon, that light in the darkness, a glimmer of hope amidst so much pain and uncertainty.

When Mikhael finally left, shutting the door behind him just seconds before Dimitri's release, Alexa collapsed over him, the tears spilling down her face, her body shaking uncontrollably. Both of them were breathless from the coupling, Lucas not quite believing it had all been real.

The tension she had held for so long finally left her body and she collapsed in his arms, sobbing uncontrollably. Alexa cried for a few minutes as Dimitri held her, yet not against his body, no skin against skin. No, he couldn't let her be that close to him right now.

Yet he could not let go of Alexa as she sobbed quietly. Not yet.

"Come back for me," she said when all the tears were spent from her body. "Whoever you are, come back for me."

Someone laughed right outside the door and Dimitri pushed her away and Alexa tumbled onto the bed.

He got dressed in silence, his back to her. She wondered then what he had been thinking - if he was married and if he had children. She wondered if he regretted what had just transpired between them.

She still had no idea who he was. Alexa only was aware of that knowledge that he had been sent to look for her. But a feeling was not a guarantee of freedom, and she felt her hope sink as he got ready to leave.

A few times since that encounter, Alexa found herself waiting for Dimitri to return, her eyes glued to the door, hoping he'd walk in. It would be three weeks before the officials would come for her, the delay attributed to political maneuverings between the two governments, concessions and the investigation that followed shortly after into Mikhael's criminal empire, leading to his fall from grace.  

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Alexa didn't know Dimitri's real name till a year later, when her father, a former overseas ambassador, let it slip that the man who had been sent to find her had been captured by the Russians, his fate unknown.

Nathaniel George had known Harry Pearce since their college days, and when his daughter disappeared while on a trip to Paris with friends, he begged Harry, head of the Counter Terrorism department at MI5, to help him find his daughter. It was a request Harry could not refuse.

Alexa George was also his god daughter.

It would take more than four months before they'd receive an accurate lead and when Harry finally did, hearing that a girl matching Alexa's description had been spotted at a Moscow nightclub, he sent Lucas North to find her. It had taken Lucas almost a month to find her, conducted on his own while he was in the midst of a highly classified operation for Section D. He had done it only as a favor for Harry, a man he considered his mentor.

Three weeks later after Lucas found her, Alexa was on a plane back home. Her father had personally thanked Lucas for the return of his daughter though Alexa had never met him. She had never been allowed to. And when Lucas himself disappeared in Moscow almost a year later, there was nothing her father or anyone could do to help the man who'd brought him his daughter back.

The following year, Alexa would lose her father to cancer. Since losing Alexa, the guilt of not being able to find his only daughter for six months had left her father feeling impotent, his power, wealth and influence useless against the men who had taken his daughter away from him. It was as if the guilt and the helplessness had eaten him whole, a cancer that devoured him from the inside.

Alexa watched his life ebb away, and just like that, he was gone. Her mother had died in a car accident ten years earlier, hit head-on by a drunk driver who had died as well.

She had wondered then what would become of her, but Harry had stepped in and helped her , giving her names of psychologists she could talk to if she wanted, and when that did not work out, he introduced her to Adam Carter, his chief operative, to teach her how to handle a gun after Harry learned that she'd attempted to purchase an unlicensed weapon off the streets. Not that Harry could blame her.

Alexa had never felt safe since Paris. She slept with a gun beneath her bed, and when she left the house, she carried one in her purse. She no longer had friends with whom she could carry normal conversations with. Word had gotten around about what happened to her in Moscow and instead of happy faces, she saw their eyes filled with pity, and sometimes, morbid curiosity. Did she like it, all that sex and violence? Why didn't she try to escape?

Alexa wished she could tell them that she had tried, twice. Each time, Mikhael had beaten her, broken her nose, kicked her teeth in, and even endured cigarette burns throughout her back as punishment.

But Alexa had been one of the lucky ones. Three of the girls who had tried to escape with her had not been as fortunate. She had seen them die before her very eyes.

Since her return to England, things were never the same again, just as she was no longer the same Alexa George who had left for Paris with friends, laughing at the airport and eager to see the world.

It was easy to fix the outside scars - the nose, the teeth, the cigarette burns. But there was no way to fix the horrors she had seen, the nightmares etched forever in her mind. There was no shutting the movie that played inside her head night after night.

And with Lucas believed to be imprisoned in Moscow, she feared for the life that he lived now - if he were still alive. Three years later, without a word from Harry about Lucas, Alexa believed him dead for it was easier to think that his soul was finally at peace. And each year since that day, she lit a candle on the anniversary of the day she met him, to thank him for giving her her life back - whatever was left of it.

Yet as she stared at her reflection in the mirror, a new movie began playing inside Alexa's head. Lucas North was alive. She could still see the expression on his face when he'd looked up and caught her gaze out there on Regent street, his eyes seeing her. She could not forget the look in his eyes.

Lucas North was broken.

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ANOTHER AUTHOR'S NOTE:  Chapters 1 & 2 were originally written as a short story, so don't stop here and leave just yet!