On Her Majesty's Secret Service ~ H.S.

Epilogue

Harry and I stand tall and proud atop a large stage. There are lights from above shining into my eyes, but I try to stop them from distracting me. The hand which rests over my heart beats harshly against my chest with excitement. Although I can't turn my head to look at the man beside me, I feel his comforting presence.

Finally, it's my turn to speak the words I've had memorized for years. Harry and I practiced them last night in bed, more for his sake than mine.

"I, Rosy Louise Frasier, do swear that I will be faithful and bear true allegiance to Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth II, her service, her heirs and successors, according to the law. So help me God."

I try to keep the smile off my face to keep from appearing too unprofessional. After all, professional spies don't seem to smile much under many circumstances. I hear Harry repeat the same words without a slip up beside me. I never thought I'd be inducted into MI6 so soon, and much less with a badge of honour proudly displayed across my chest.

Within 15 minutes of my satellite phone call to Andrew a special forces unit had burst into the German base and headed straight to the detonation room. Although Harry's wire ripping method had appeared to work, I had a feeling they wanted to be safe rather than sorry.

An emergency team found us still curled up by the control panel. Much to Harry's dismay, they carried him out on a stretcher while I chuckled quietly. Although we had saved the entirety of Europe just 10 minutes before, the humour of Harry being lovingly carried out by a gaggle of nurses was not lost on me.

We were flown out of Germany within the hour straight to MI6 headquarters in London. I couldn't help my relief when I saw Andrew waiting for me at the door. He wrapped me in a tight hug before I could even get a word out. There were even tears in his eyes, a rare occurrence. I eventually owed his emotion to my absolutely haggard state. My hands and the rest of my body had been doused in blood by Sarah and I's fight and Harry's injury. My hair had been haphazardly thrown into a pony tail, and the bags under my eyes made it look as though I hadn't slept in weeks.

Harry attempted to introduce himself as kindly as possible. By that point, his leg had been bandaged, he'd been given crutches, and pumped full of morphine. He tried his best to make a good impression, understanding the importance of my relationship with Andrew, and his effort really was commendable. We agreed pretty early on, though, that I would do most of the talking.

Andrew wasted no time taking us to the directors office, where I communicated everything that had happened in the last two months. From being duped into thinking we were in an official MI6 training program, my attempted murders, and the plot I uncovered the General and the rest of his 'brothers' to be hatching.

I explained what they intended for us to do at the German military base- that is, destroy it and bomb the majority of Europe. I even described their plan to oust the prime minister and enforce their weird religion across the rest of the continent. For the most part, Andrew and everyone else stayed silent while I talked. I didn't even have time to worry about etiquette as the past few months of worry and anxiety came pouring out.

My allegations were investigated and within the week 12 members of parliament had been arrested for conspiracy against the state, including Maxwell, Sterling, Maslow, Sanders and the rest I hadn't identified myself. Sarah and Mac were taken in for questioning, but I requested that they be set free. After all that had happened, I knew that they felt as though they had no other choice. Harry wanted them locked up for the hole they put in his calf, but I couldn't find it in me to blame them. After all, they were only following orders. Orders of a psychopathic pretend general and his cult, but orders nonetheless.

After 2 weeks, MI6 held a private ceremony where they presented us with our badges of honour for service to the country. Harry and I met the Queen, although only very briefly. She didn't seem to like the look of Harry's wild curls or tattoos, but kept her composure anyway. Harry had to calm me down before the ceremony to keep me from hyperventilating.